Magic sparked.
The gloom gathered, enclosing them in a cloak of invisibility.
Hidden from view, safe for the moment, Henrik relaxed into the stream that housed enchantment and rose whenever he fought. A blast of frigid air shoved at him again, tearing at his hair, pulling the hood from Cosmina’s head. A riot of curls, her hair tumbled, brushing his temples, and—
The signal whiplashed, reaching across distance and mental space.
Henrik bared his teeth, and holding the message in his mind, threw it like a dagger. It whirled end over end, then struck home. Static hissed, slithering in, then out, as it gathered speed inside his head. A growl came through the cosmic weave.
His breath hitched. “Tareek.”
“Airborne. On my way.”
Henrik flinched as the voice punched through, raking the inside of his skull. Cosmina shifted, pressing her cheek to his, helping ground him, but . . . sweet Christ. Talk about bizarre. It was working. He could hear his friend. Was communicating through—
Well hell, he didn’t know what to call it.
“How close?” he asked, testing the link, struggling to stay connected.
“Five minutes out.”
“Too long. We’re under attack.”
“I know.” Scales rattled as wind whistled through the connection. “Hold tight. I’m circling around. Head for high ground.”
Henrik frowned. High ground meant he needed to move west, not toward the northern rim as planned. “Where’s Kazim?”
“Riding hard for River’s Bend. Edge of the—”
Heavy static washed in as the storm moaned overhead. Snow blew in, swirling thick and white around him. Fisting his hands in Cosmina’s cloak, he dipped his head and pressed his forehead to the top of her shoulder, desperate to hang on to Tareek’s voice. The cosmic tether whiplashed, then snapped, whirling out into empty space, severing the connection.
“Goddamn it.”
“Did you reach him?” Cosmina asked, the urgency in her voice telling. Her palm slid across the nape of his neck and into his hair. Fingers buried in the short strands, she flexed her hand. “Did you—”
“Aye.” Lifting his head, he broke her hold. “We need to move.”
She nodded and, injured arm tucked to her side, rolled to her knees. “Let’s go. I can run for a while if you need me to.”
The offer leveled him. Christ, she was something. Far too brave for her own good. Brushing tendrils of hair from her face, he caressed her cheek. She shivered and leaned in, turning into his touch instead of away, making his chest go tight and his heart pound hard. “You’ll only slow me down. Conserve your strength, Cosmina. ’Twill be better for you in the—”
The scrape of footfalls rose from the other side of the tombstone.
Henrik glanced right. Blown clean by the wind, a sheet of ice reflected a flash of movement. With a snarl, he palmed his sword hilt and drew hard. Steel whined against leather as he shoved Cosmina backward. Her back thumped against stone. Air left her lungs in a rush. Ignoring her gasp of surprise, he leveled his blade and pivoted on the balls of his feet. Magic crackled, attacking the chill around him. Tightening his grip, he strengthened the cloak of invisibility, deepening the shadows and— Andrei skidded around the edge of the tombstone.
Shay spun around the other side, sliding to a stop in the narrow aisle. Brows drawn tight, he scanned the terrain, gaze skipping over Henrik without registering his presence. Henrik’s mouth curved. Excellent. A good sign. As much as he disliked the magic, the invisibility shield worked for him. Particularly if it ensured he stayed hidden . . . from everyone, brothers-in-arms included. Gaze narrowed on Shay, Henrik dropped his sword tip and, with a murmur, widened the scope of his spell. Both warriors slid inside his web, disappearing into thin air alongside him.
Shay jumped backward. “Jesu!”
“Merde.” Andrei threw him a startled look. “I knew you were over here somewhere. I could feel you, but . . .”
“Couldn’t see me?”
Low flames flickered, cascading over Andrei’s shoulders. “Nifty trick.”
“Only if it keeps us alive.” Reaching up and over, Henrik re-sheathed his sword. He crouched in front of Cosmina. His gaze slid over her face. Goddamn, she was pale. Far too cold—sliding fast into fatigue too. With a quick flick, he unbuckled his cloak. Wool snapped as he threw the fur-lined mantle around her shoulders. “Here, love.”
“Nay, Henrik.” Lashes shielding her eyes, she shoved at his hands. “’Tis too cold. You need it.”
“Not as much as you.”
“I’m all right. Don’t—”
“No arguing.”
Finished bundling her into his cloak, he threaded the clasp and pulled it tight. Eyes riveted to her face, he debated a moment. Should he or shouldn’t he? Getting any closer was no doubt a bad idea. Still temptation called and he couldn’t deny the urge to touch her. Just a bit more. What could it possibly hurt? Not much, considering he already stood neck-deep in infatuation. Past the point of no return—responsible for her care, in charge of keeping her safe, yearning to provide comfort even as he called himself a first-class fool. So . . .
Forget about doing the right thing. Wrong sounded a helluva lot better.
Hand shaking a little, he reached out again. Her hair caressed his palm, then tangled between his fingertips, whispering over his skin as he sank into her curls. He breathed deep, playing in the thick strands, gathering up the tendrils, twisting until the mass settled against the nape of her neck, and . . .
Desire burned a heated trail south. His body tightened. His heart throbbed. His mind went sideways inside his head, and Henrik swallowed. So inappropriate. Not even close to advisable, but . . . holy God. She had gorgeous hair. So soft and thick. So rich a red he wanted to get lost for a while and just . . .
Linger.
In her warmth. In her beauty. In the trust she showed by allowing him so close. Him. An assassin with little honor and even less worth.
The thought set him straight. Regret hit hard. He withdrew, untangling his hand from her tresses, distancing himself even as he mourned the separation. ’Twas stupid. Abject idiocy to want something more. Something pure and right. Something untouched by violence and the harsh reality he lived every day. She wasn’t his. He didn’t want her to be.
Case closed. Slam the lid, block it out, and let it lie.
Releasing a pent-up breath, he dragged his gaze from her face. Intense blue eyes met his, then ping-ponged, moving from him to Cosmina, then back again. Andrei raised a brow. Henrik almost cringed. He caught himself at the last moment. Smart son of a bitch. His comrade didn’t miss much and understood even more.
Henrik nailed his friend with a warning look. “Don’t say it.”
“Not even thinking it,” Andrei said, a glint of amusement in his gaze. Henrik gritted his teeth. Andrei’s lips twitched, then smoothed into serious lines. Unclipping his bladed boomerang from his belt, he tested its weight. As the weapon bobbed in his hand, he peeked around the edge of the tombstone. “Game plan?”
“Need one fast.” Crouched to his left, Shay threw him a sidelong look. “How much time before they reach us?”