Another of the three unarmed Fae groaned and collapsed in front of me, convulsing. I stared down at the jerking body, watching with detachment as blood trickled from its nose and mouth. Nausea that had nothing to do with the gruesome sight of the two dying Fae at my feet roiled through me, and beads of clammy sweat broke out across my body. Dizziness threatened to make me stumble as the boat rocked gently beneath me.
“Foul hellion!” cursed the Fae with the gun. He and his remaining companion staggered back, putting as much distance between us as the tethered boats would allow.
A concentrated flash of that much-hated Fae magic seared against my magical core. The connection I held to the two living Fae snapped in a burst of agony, sending me to my knees with dark spots dancing in my vision. My arms cradled my belly, trying to hold back the tide of wrongness sloshing around inside.
“You will pay for that, vile creature,” the gun-toting Fae snarled. He steadied his aim, green eyes snapping fire. “My orders were to capture you if possible, or to kill you if not. I know which I’d prefer at this point.”
The boat shifted and I sagged backward, landing on my ass. I barely caught myself with both hands behind me, or I would have ended up flat on my back.
“Orders from who?” I croaked... as though I couldn’t guess.
“From my General, of course,” he said, and shot me in the gut.
I cried out, my body slumping sideways as the bullet tore into me. That was a mistake on both counts, since the force of my cry and the impact of my shoulder against the deck combined to nearly make me pass out from the pain.
“No!” cried another voice, sounding oddly attenuated. I was pretty sure it was Guthrie. That was good, I supposed. It meant Guthrie was still alive, at least.
“Bring her here,” said the Fae who’d shot me, presumably speaking to the other one I hadn’t managed to suck dry.
My vision was still acting weirdly. A blond figure haloed by sunspots loomed over me. I bared my teeth at it, scrabbling for the knife I’d dropped earlier without knowing exactly where it was. You can’t have me, I tried to say, but only garbled nonsense emerged.
The figure reached for me, my mind turning it into every monster from every childhood nightmare I’d ever had. I tried to scream, to roar—but I could barely breathe. The air choked me, catching in my throat.
Just before that repulsive hand touched me, a second figure swirled into existence out of nothingness. I blinked, trying to get my eyes to work properly as arms closed around that blond head from behind, and wrenched. The monster’s neck crunched, and the body fell with a thump—dead weight.
“Zorah, no—” The voice was familiar, so familiar, but I’d never heard it sound like that before. I’d never heard it sound so... afraid.
“Rans?” I croaked, the word barely louder than the breath behind it.
Hands I’d know anywhere lifted me with gentle strength, cradling me against a body wet with saltwater.
An unwelcome voice intruded on the moment, reminding me of the danger still waiting beyond the protective circle of Rans’ embrace.
“I would have let you live to spare the treaty, bloodsucker,” snapped the Fae with the gun, still standing safely in the other boat. “But you’ve signed your own death warrants by killing my men. As it is, I’ll take great pleasure in putting a bullet through that creature’s brain and finishing you both.”
The arms around me tightened, and Rans let out a hiss of warning. The noise was feral; there was nothing human about it. Had I been able to see him clearly, I knew his eyes would be glowing, fangs bared in lethal menace. We were about to perish, and I hadn’t even gotten a chance to fully appreciate his return from what would have been certain death for a human.
My vision wavered briefly into focus, centering on the Fae who was poised to end my life. Our lives. The gun barrel steadied, and Rans curled around me protectively just as a large form barreled past us at inhuman speed. With a roar, it slammed into the Fae at the same instant the gun went off. Rans jerked under the impact of a bullet meant for me, and the two grappling figures toppled out of the Fae boat, disappearing into the water below.
“Hold on, Zorah. Hold on,” Rans’ voice still held that awful fear.
“S-sorry,” I rasped, not even sure what I was apologizing for—just that Rans was upset and somehow it was my fault.
“Shh, don’t talk, just swallow this—you have to swallow my blood, love.”
His wrist pressed against my lips, the seawater still clinging to his skin tasting even saltier than the slow trickle of his blood. I tried to do as he said, swallowing weakly, but the thick liquid made me gag and cough it out as my body rejected it.
“No, no no...” Rans lowered me carefully to the deck. “Come on, love, you need to stay with me...” He tore into his own flesh again, this time letting his blood drip directly into the ragged hole in my gut. “Come on, Zorah—keep fighting. Don’t you give up on me—”
Vampire healing power tingled inside the wound, forcing my flesh to knit whether it wanted to or not. I choked on the pain, rolling to the side and retching until a thin stream of red spilled from my mouth—the rest of the blood he’d tried to feed me, perhaps... or maybe my own. I wasn’t sure. Everything inside me felt like it was fighting everything else.
“Guthrie?” I whispered weakly, once the intense pain of accelerated healing had faded to a duller ache. “Is he—?”
Rans checked the wound and gave an audible sigh of relief at whatever he found. He helped me sit up, though it
