Josephine had arranged copper rods in the air, using the Valkyries’ own lightning against them. She looked so small and delicate to be wielding such power. Those black tear tracks were like war paint against her ghostly white skin, highlighting her uncanny eyes. Her outline shimmered between bolts.
And I thought I would need to save her?
He wanted to trace to her side, but knew she’d unleash her fury on him. Though he deserved it, he needed to be in one piece once the Valkyries attacked.
Any second now, they’d spill out.
Seeming bored with the lightning, Josephine let fly all the rods, a volley of spears. The Scourge shrieked as one.
Then her attention fell on the closest oak tree. Immense, old. Probably filled to the brim with eavesdropping nymphs.
Josephine waved her hand, and the tree shot into the sky, roots exploding from the earth, like a rocket dusting off.
Nymphs within screamed, which she seemed to enjoy. When the tree plummeted, she batted it into the wraiths.
It connected in an explosion of groaning wood. She teed up another oak, then another, batting them one at a time, a barrage of cracking trunks and limbs.
Rune traced to the other Møriør. Never taking his eyes off her, he asked them, “What are you doing here?”
“We’re watching your mate,” Sian said. “Well done. She’s horrifyingly lovely.”
Rune slung his bow over his chest and returned his arrow. “How did you know Josephine’s mine?”
“Orion told us days ago she would be revealed this night at Val Hall,” Blace said. “He suggested you might need our assistance.”
Rune needed all the help he could get. On his own, he was fucking up the most important thing that had ever happened to him. It’d taken him this much anguish just to realize he could be the male his mate needed.
Sian scratched his head. “I can’t believe I asked how we would know her. I’d say one female is calling our attention.”
“What is she?” Blace asked, staring at her.
“Half vampire, half phantom.”
Sian whistled. “Those are rare.”
“And powerful.” Blace tore his gaze from Josephine. “If she’s your mate, why is she attacking alone? And why do you smell like a nymph’s bed at night’s end?” Blace had always been amused by Rune’s exploits; now he looked disappointed. “You’re mated, and you’re still with your tarts?”
Allixta sneered, “Once a whore, always a whore.”
Rune growled at her—hitting too close. “I was going to sleep with a nymph in exchange for a way around the wraiths. Josephine’s younger brother is trapped inside. She’s been separated from him for more than half her life.”
“I gather she wasn’t on board with the nymph plan,” Sian said. “Does she know she’s your mate?”
Rune nodded. “I bungled this. I hurt her. I ended up stealing the prize I’d sought instead of bedding the nymph”—they raised their brows at that—“but it was already too late.”
“What can we do?” Blace asked.
“If the Valkyries allow Josephine entry, she’ll storm the lion’s den without hesitation. I’ll try to stop her, and in her present mood, she’ll put me into the ground.” He pictured her breaking his bow and planting it over his grave site. Rune dug into his pocket, taking out the fire-red feather. “I must be able to follow her inside.” He needed his new arrow ready—now. Sweating, he split the feather with his claw.
Allixta said, “Is that what I think it is?”
“Phoenix feather. To take out the Scourge.” He plucked another arrow from his quiver, one he’d refashion with the feather. Must be straight and true. “Val Hall is filled with what smells like an army of beings. I might need cover.”
“Count us in,” Sian said.
Not wanting to take his eyes from Josephine, Rune began to craft the new flights, his fingers working from muscle memory.
She targeted the cars next. She lifted them all with one raised palm. With her other hand, she flicked two fingers, and a yellow Lamborghini shot into the wraiths. The impact sounded like a missile hitting rock.
The Scourge warbled and wobbled, but returned to formation much more slowly this time. She was weakening them!
Another flick of Josephine’s fingers. A Hummer hurtled toward the tempest.
Once he’d replaced the flights on his arrow, he used his blood to draw new runes on the shaft. Those symbols would connect his magicks with those of the feather.
As he worked, he could perceive the union—one power to direct the magicks and one to boost them.
He finished, taking one instant to gaze over his work before dropping the arrow into his quiver. He’d happily use this marvel to get his female back.
“This grows wearisome,” Allixta said. “How long will she carry on?”
“Till she gets what she wants or drops,” Rune answered, the awe in his voice undisguised. “My mate likes to keep things simple.”
With another volley of cars, Josephine screamed, “Come out and fight me, you bunch of pussies!”
“And she loves a blunt tool,” Rune added, his chest about to burst with pride.
SIXTY-FOUR
Her fury bubbling over, Jo traced to the cyclone, attacking the wraiths with her claws. Spectral matter sprayed! “I knew you could bleed!” She yelled with triumph, then called to Nïx, “You won’t come out?”—she slashed the enraged wraiths over and over—“Then I’m coming in!”
The front door to Val Hall groaned open. Jo forced herself to let up, catching her breath as she floated back to wait. Your move, Valkyries. . . .
Someone unseen tossed a small bundle onto the porch. Jo squinted. A lock of hair. A key. So the rumor was true.
A wraith swooped in, snatching it up. The tempest parted like water around a rock.
They were letting Jo in. She dropped the rest of the cars—upside down, because she was a bitch. Then she floated toward the belly of the beast. What wouldn’t I do?
“No, Josephine!”
Rune? When she spied him out of the corner of her eye, she waved her hand to pin him back.
“Gods damn it, don’t go in there!”
Before Jo could reach Val Hall, pressure collared her throat. How? She was ghosting! The wraiths were still.
Comprehension. No one had intended to let her in; they’d used that key to let someone out.
A figure emerged from Val Hall.
Thad??
He strode past the wraiths, but his boots weren’t touching the ground. Shadowy circles radiated around his eyes. His dark hair whipped over his pale face. His outline was faint.
Phantom faint. He looked as evil as they came. Dear God, he is like me. She reached for him. “Tha . . . Tha . . .”
His power slammed her to her knees, choking her. Her hands flew to her neck. She couldn’t get air!
Rune bellowed, struggling against her telekinesis. He would hurt Thad to save his mate! She directed more force at Rune.
“Harder, kid!” some woman called from Val Hall. “Pop her bobblehead off!”
He was listening to her.
“Take her down, Thad! Come on, like we taught you.”
The pressure increased, and Jo suddenly saw her future:
Thaddie’s going to kill me.
As dizziness overtook her and black dots swirled her vision, memories of the past erupted in her mind. Thad’s eyes were so like that woman’s.
Like their . . . mother’s. Jo had been with her right before her death!
Jo hadn’t been her name then. She’d been . . . Kierra. A little girl. An eight-year-old halfling in Apparitia, the murky realm of the phantoms.