Blood rushed down her legs as she stood. Hydra batted at Lucien, her long neck swiping his legs out from under him. His body hit the ground again, shoving air from his lungs, and he moaned.
"Lucien!" She flashed to his side and crouched down.
"I'm fine," he said, pushing to his feet. He wobbled.
Distracted as Anya was, Hydra managed to dig her teeth into Anya's arm. She screamed, the pain almost blinding. Black stars winked over her vision and fire burned her blood. Poison? Snake venom?
Stay strong. But her legs were trembling, giving out, unable to hold her weight. And then Lucien was there, right beside her, stabbing the head in the eye. The creature screeched, an unholy sound that scratched at her eardrums, before falling to the ground, dead.
Just as before, another head quickly took its place.
Anya wavered, desperate to steady herself. Lethargy beat through her with tough fists.
"Stay awake, sweetheart," Lucien breathed in her ear, warming her, strengthening her. "I have an idea, but I can't do it without you. I need you to cut off her head and cauterize it when I've distracted her. Can you do that?"
"Lucien—Yes. Yes, I can do it." For Lucien, anything. Anya straightened her back and squared her shoulders. Her vision slowly cleared with every measured breath she forced in and out of her lungs, and she saw that both of Lucien's eyes were blue. He kissed her, and then his body dematerialized, shimmered. Returned.
He frowned. "I'm not strong enough to take my body. I have to go in spirit."
His body collapsed, unconscious, but connected to him as she was Anya saw his spirit pull from it. He floated to the creature—who could no longer see him in spirit form and evidently decided his motionless body was already dead, freeing her to concentrate all of her menace on Anya. Anya forced herself to march forward.
That bitch is mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LUCIEN SETTLED HIS SPIRIT ON the creature's back. She paid him no attention, was focused solely on Anya—who was splattered with blood, cut and bruised, and looked like an Amazon warrior willing to do anything to win the battle.
He reached into Hydra's body with a ghostly hand and grabbed on to her spirit. She roared, making him cringe. Would have made his ears bleed if he'd been in corporeal form. In a panic, she lunged at Anya, but he jerked on her spirit again, holding her in place.
Since her body was alive, he knew what he was doing hurt her. She screeched again, but remained in place as if tethered. Anya leapt, higher and higher, and quickly cut off one of the creature's heads. As it tumbled to the ground, as Hydra screamed, flames erupted in the center of Anya's hand. She slammed that fire into the wound just as another head formed.
Orange-gold flames melted the skin, sizzled it, destroyed it, and cauterized the wound. Hydra spasmed and jerked in rage. Furious now, she used the last of her strength to chomp at Anya. Lucien kept a firm grip as his woman twisted out of the way and swung her sword yet again.
Contact.
The second head fell. Anya produced another fire and burned the wound, even as two of the snakes bit her arm. She cringed, but maintained the flames. Roaring, the creature went limp and collapsed into the water. The sound of that final roar continued to echo until finally, blessedly fading.
He hovered there for a moment, awed. They'd done it. They'd won!
Anya fell to the ground, panting but grinning. Lucien floated to the ground himself and tried to enter his body—but it was as if a shield separated the spirit from the corporeal. He frowned. Tried again. Failed again.
Why could he not enter?
You're too weak. The thought slammed into his mind. He was weak, yes, but he should be able to enter. If he couldn't…Scowling now, he tried one last time to slip into his body. Nothing.
He could only hover there, powerless. He glanced over at Anya. In the circle of grass beside his body, she dropped to her knees.
"Get back here," she said, glancing up at his spirit. She gave him a tired grin. "I'll doctor your wounds."
He tried again. He did. He had to touch her at least once more, this woman who'd given him more happiness in a few weeks than he'd experienced in thousands of years. But he remained exactly as he was.
"Lucien," she barked, and there was worry in the under-tones. "This isn't funny. Get back into your body!"
"I can't."
A moment passed before she gave any kind of reaction. Violently she shook her head. Her features gleamed with panic and disbelief. "You can."
"Anya…" It was best this way. He'd known it days ago, knew it now. His body would die and there would be nothing Cronus could hold over her head. She would be free, the key hers and hers alone.
"Don't give up," she said, once again shaking her head. A sob bubbled from her throat. "Keep trying."
"Anya."
"You're not going to die. Do you hear me?" Her eyes filled with tears as she stared up at him. "You're not going to die," she uttered brokenly. "I won't let you. Help me, William!" she shouted, her anger at the man clearly forgotten, but the warrior had passed out. She began to pound at Lucien's chest, trying to force his heart into motion.
"Anya. Please." Seeing her like this tore him up. He floated to her and attempted to push a hand through her hair, but the only thing he felt was the warmth of the air. "I love you."
Even as he spoke, Death roared with far more fury and pain than Hydra had. Lucien suddenly felt as though he were burning, his insides kindling to a thirsty fire. He, too, began to roar. The pain, too much. He was being ripped in half.
Gods. Man and demon were separating, he realized. Pulling apart.
"Lucien. What's wrong?" Anya shouted, pausing her ministrations to his physical form. "You're going to be okay. I'm going to give Cronus the All-Key. You're going to be okay," she repeated.
He wanted to respond, wanted to tell her to stay away from Cronus, but the burning increased and the words melted in his throat. If he and Death divided completely, Lucien would die in truth. Just as Baden had. Wouldn't he?
"I'll take care of everything." Anya disappeared. Before he could panic, she returned to that patch of bloody grass beside his body. Her eyes were luminous pools. "Tell me what's happening to you. Let me help."
Fighting the pain, trying to hold on to Death, he reached out again. Once more his fingers ghosted through. Tears were pouring from her now, and the sight broke him. "I love you," he finally managed to work out.
"Cronus," she screamed.
"Stop." He doubled over. Any moment now, Death would be completely free. Funny, he'd spent so many years wishing for a life without the demon, yet now they both were trying to cling to each other with what little strength they had left.
"Cronus!"
Lucien opened his mouth to speak again, but no sound emerged. His last tie with Death broke, and he knew nothing more.
ANYA THREW UP THE MOMENT Lucien's spirit disappeared. When her stomach was completely emptied, she screamed for Cronus again. "I'm ready to bargain. Do you hear me? I'm ready."
As always, he appeared in a blinding flash of light. She blinked against it and pushed to shaky legs. Lucien's spirit was still gone. Gone! Oh, gods. She'd seen the skeletal image of Death rip from him, howling—oh, gods, the howling—before it, too, disappeared. Please, don't let me be too late.
She closed her eyes and tried to reverse time, but failed. She'd done it once before, for Maddox and Ashlyn. Why couldn't she do so now? Why?
"I'm listening," Cronus said, and she felt him gliding toward her, his white robe brushing the thick grass.
She peered up at him, vision blurred through her tears. "The key is yours. Willingly given if you'll swear to bring Lucien back to life and leave us both alone."