by Sandy James
Rebecca narrowed her eyes. Vines sprang from the ground and tied both of the revenants in neat green cocoons. Great solution, but if she had to do that too many times, she’d wipe out all her energy.
Despite his nauseating pain, he forced himself to sit up. Megan’s gun was resting next to him. He picked it up and shoved it into his waistband so the gun pressed against the small of his back. Between the throbbing in his shoulder and the spasms from his ribs, he had to take shallow breaths to keep his focus. He made himself get to his feet so he could join the fight, intending to head after Megan as soon as he could get to her.
Looking over the situation, he stumbled into the fray. The odds weren’t good. They were being attacked by the crowd and the remaining revenants. Clearly afraid of hurting the teens, Amazons and Sentinels were slowly being surrounded by an enemy they couldn’t fight because they’d sworn to protect them.
“We need to free Freya,” Artair said, his voice calmer than Johann could have managed under the circumstances. “We’ve got to get her out, and maybe she can break the enchantment.”
“If you all can handle this now, it’s my turn,” Gina said.
“You’re too weak from the lightning,” Johann said.
Gina laughed, turned her sword and handed it to him as he finally reached her side. “I still have a little juice left. Watch their backs.”
With a running jump, she literally ran on the shoulders of the teenagers, working her way toward the stage like she was in a mosh pit. Once she hit the stage, she took one big leap, flew through the air and landed only a few feet away from Freya’s cage. She dug through her pocket and produced the key she’d rescued from beneath the stage.
“Time to get you out, Freya.”
The snarls of revenants drew his attention. Grateful he didn’t have to make the choice to hurt any of the innocents, he took his anger and frustration out on the zombies. His shoulder pounded in rhythm with his rapidly beating heart. Severed revenant heads joined the dozens of others that littered the ground.
“Is she out yet?” he asked.
“Aye, I am,” Freya replied, striding purposefully out of the cage.
She marched to the front of the stage and splayed her hands out in front of her, palms out. Her lips moved though her words couldn’t be heard above the din of the remaining revenants and the angry teenagers. Every zombie stopped. For a moment, they moaned and shook like Rebecca was shifting the ground beneath their feet. Then, one by one, they fell.
Johann glanced around as the last of the revenants collapsed into heaps on the grass, thinking of the best route he could use to get to Megan.
“Wahoo!” Sarita shouted. Her joy was short-lived. “Oh, shit. The kids are still coming. Now what? We can’t hurt them!”
Johann didn’t answer because he was fighting another wave of nausea.
Looking over the situation, he figured the women and Artair would handle the remaining threat. He turned to hurry after Megan and ran into a solid wall of robed teenagers. “Freya! Please, m’lady! Get these kids free from Popov’s hold.”
Again Freya put her hands out and spoke so quietly Johann couldn’t hear her words.
Nothing happened. “Freya…”
“I am trying, Sentinel.” This time she raised her hands high, closed her eyes and shouted some foreign words.
“I really don’t want to kill them,” Gina’s said as she held her dagger at ready. She’d rejoined the fight, pulling some of the kids off Sarita and flinging them to the ground. The teens always got back up.
The followers had encircled the Amazons and Sentinels. Despite the threat, all Johann could think about was Megan. God help him, he was about ready to hack through a bunch of innocent kids to get to her.
“Freyjr! Brother—twin—I beckon thee!”
Another flash of lightning hit near the stage.
“Wasn’t me,” Gina said before she whirled with a roundhouse kick to one of Max’s followers, knocking him into two other kids.
Thoroughly surrounded, the Amazons and Sentinels backed into each other.
“It’s Freyjr!” Sarita shouted.
“What do we do?” Rebecca asked as she wrapped two of the taller teenagers in kudzu. Two more moved forward to keep advancing on the Amazons.
“We keep the innocents at bay and wait,” Artair replied. “Give the twins time to help us.”
“I don’t want to kill them,” Johann said, “but I will if I have to. Popov’s got Megan.”
Just as the revenants had slowed their movements, now the kids in the red robes did the same. It was like watching a movie going into slow motion and then suddenly grinding to a halt. One by one, they fell to the grass.
“Holy shit,” Sarita said. “Are they dead?”
“Just asleep.” The reply came from Freyjr who had popped up right in the middle of their group.
The Amazons and Sentinels all turned and pointed their swords and daggers at him.
Freyjr put his fingers against the tip of Sarita’s sword and gently pushed it away from his chest. “Such a greeting for the god who has freed you? I should be offended.” His gaze deliberately traced Sarita from head to toe. “But you, my little beauty, I shall forgive.”
Johann pushed right past Freyjr and sprinted toward the limousine, but he was too late—it was pulling away.
“Damn it!” He stabbed his sword into the grass and shouted at Freya, “Stop them! Popov’s got Megan!”
“Aye, Sentinel. I know.” She raised her hand, ready to spring some magicks when Freyjr interrupted her.
“Dear Sister. Let me.” The god grinned at Johann. “Fare thee well, Sentinel.”
Freyjr snapped his fingers and Johann’s world started spinning.
* * *
One moment Johann was staring at Freyjr, the next he found himself in the limousine, glaring at Maksim Popov as he kissed Megan. She was limp in his arms. With a snarl, he pushed Megan to the side and launched himself at Max.
Thinking surprise gave him the upper hand, Johann pounded his fists into Max’s face until the singer stopped moving. He hit him a few more times to make sure the threat was over, if only for a short time. After the way Max had healed that head wound, he’d be bouncing back pretty damned fast.
Megan lay there, as still a death—exactly like the last time Max had tried to suck the life out of her.
An icy fear raced through Johann. What if he’d been too late? What if he’d lost her?
No. No, she’s alive.
Max hadn’t wanted to kill her—she was a key part of his plan. The madman had called her his mate. Before Johann could move to help her, the partition between the sections of the limo started to descend. The two goons in the front seat were probably ready to make their move.
He jerked the gun from his waistband and pushed it against the back of driver’s head. “Pull over. Now.”
The muscle-bound guy in the passenger side growled and reached over the seat.
Johann quickly changed his target. “Try it.”
The goon held his hands up in surrender.
“Pull over,” Johann commanded, not entirely sure what his plan was. All he knew was he needed to get Megan the hell out of that limo before—
In a shower of stabbing pain, his world suddenly went black.
* * *
Megan heard Johann’s cry of pain and struggled to focus. She felt like she’d finished a whole pitcher of margaritas by herself. Nothing around her made sense, but one thing was clear—Johann needed her help.
Reality came rushing to her in a flood of panic. Maksim Popov had stabbed Johann in his injured shoulder. Johann’s eyes rolled back and he slumped forward onto the floor of the limo.
“Pull over,” Max said as he jerked back his bloody dagger. “I am ready to be rid of
this problem.”
Trying to sit up, she pushed her hair out of her face. Her arms trembled from the effort. If she didn’t find some strength from somewhere deep inside herself, Max was going to kill Johann.
She would die before she let that happen.
The limo ground to a halt. Max shoved the door open and got out. One of his goons reached in and dragged Johann out of the car by his injured arm. Megan literally crawled out after them. None of them paid her any attention. No wonder, considering she was as weak as a newborn kitten—something they clearly recognized as she got to her feet and leaned heavily against the side of the limousine.
Angry, frustrated tears clouded her eyes. She was an Amazon, damn it.
Fire. I am Fire.
She clenched her jaw and tried to follow them. After a few stumbling steps, she fell to her knees, panting.
She couldn’t lose Johann. Since Megan couldn’t do anything physically, she resorted to something she swore she would never do with an enemy.
She begged.
“Please, Max. Please. I’ll go with you. I’ll do whatever you ask. Just leave him here. Please.”
Max stopped and turned back to her. The smile on his face horrified her. “You will go with me anyway, dorogoy. I cannot allow him to live. He will hunt us.” He nodded to his goons. “Stand him before me. The only way to kill a Sentinel is to pierce his heart.” He changed the grip on the dagger he’d been holding. “Now, he shall die.”
“No!” Megan shouted. She fought to get to her feet.
Johann was awake now and struggling, but the odds were two to one and he was visibly in pain. Despite his resistance, they slowly spread Johann’s arms, giving Max a perfect shot.
Her legs wouldn’t move fast enough. Holding her hand out, she tried to push one of the men holding Johann away with her mind. When nothing happened, she tried to throw fire. But she had no powers left.
Johann’s gaze met hers. “I love you, Megan.”
“Nyet. No one else shall have her.” Max whirled to stare at Megan. “She was born for me. Meant for me. Do you understand, dorogoy? You are mine.”
Johann gave Max a chilling promise. “You better get it right the first time, you son of a bitch, ’cause you’ve got one shot. You miss my heart, and I kill you with my bare hands.”
Max acted like he had all the time in the world. Of course with two brutes holding Johann and Megan stumbling around like the town drunk, he did. “Nyet. You are no threat to me. Now, you shall die. Do svidaniya, Sentinel”
He raised the dagger.
“No!” Megan reached inside for anything she had left.
She closed her eyes and let the rage at all Maksim Popov had done burn through her— she let it consume her. She saw Ashley Douglass and the other girls who, instead of blossoming into women, were reduced to nothing but mummies. She felt Nita Douglass’s grief wash over her as a wave of heat moved through her chest, spreading down her arms.
She thought of Johann, of a future without him by her side. If his life ended, so would hers. That love fed Fire and gave her a surge of strength. The heat spread through her fingers and sparks jumped from her palms. She let her wrath at how Max had used those girls—how he’d used her—mingle with her love for Johann. She forced herself to picture Maksim Popov plunging that knife into her lover’s heart.
The sparks surged to flames.
Fire! I am Fire!
As she raised her hands, enormous fireballs grew on her palms. With one last push, she launched the increasing infernos at Max before she fell to her knees again, spent.
The fireballs hit Max’s back, igniting his shirt as if it had been soaked in kerosene. He didn’t scream in pain, didn’t make a sound as the flames swiftly spread across his arms and down his legs. He faced Megan as an angry snarl fell from his lips.
Johann wasn’t the target now.
I am.
Megan had nothing left to fight him with and collapsed against the grass. All she could do was watch as Max, consumed in flames, took staggering steps toward her. When he reached her, he fell to his knees. With an angry shout, he pulled the dagger back and then buried it in her belly before he collapsed next to her.
She cried out in a strangled sob as the pain ripped through her.
* * *
“No! God, no!” The angry roar rose from Johann as he found the strength of ten men.
With a growl, he cast off the bodyguards and sprinted to Megan, praying to any Ancient who would listen that she wouldn’t die.
But his heart already knew what was going to happen as he watched the blood rapidly soaking her shirt. He scooped her up to carry her away from Max’s smoldering corpse.
Johann gently laid Megan on the grass and knelt at her side. Her eyes were closed. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
“Oh, God, Megan.”
He tried to harness his panic, almost terrified to touch her. His shaking hands hovered over her stomach. Should he pull the knife out? Should he leave it in? What would save his Megan?
“We’ll get help. I’m going to get help.”
Her blue eyes opened, but little of her spark of life remained.
He was losing her.
“It’s—it’s all right, Joeman. You’ll—you’ll be—all right. You’ll—” Her words were interrupted by a raspy cough and a grimace of pain.
“No! It’s not going to be…” He didn’t want to shout at her. Not now. But holding in his fear and pain was making his chest tighten to the point he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t let her give up. There had to be a way to save her. “We’ll get some help, baby.”
He looked around frantically, trying to think of what to do. They were in the middle of nowhere.
There would be no rescue.
Megan reached out a trembling hand. He enfolded it in his. She squeezed Johann’s fingers. “You’ll—you’ll get through this.”
This wasn’t happening—it couldn’t be happening. “Quit talking like that. You’re going to be fine.”
“Don’t be—sad,” she gasped. “When I’m—gone, don’t be—sad. Promise me?”
He couldn’t utter an answer to her ridiculous request. Megan couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her. “You’re not leaving me.”
She stretched her other shaky hand toward his face. “Always—bossing me—around.”
He leaned in closer. Her cool fingers caressed his cheek, making his own blood run cold. Her fire was going out.
“I—love—you.”
“Don’t leave me, Megan,” he begged, his voice hoarse and ragged. “Just hang on.”
“I’ll—always—love you.” Her chest rose in shallow breaths, and her hand fell away.
“Freya!” Johann shouted. “Freya, get your ass here now!”
The goddess appeared at his side. “Megan!” Freya dropped to her knees and took Megan’s free hand. “My Megan.” The goddess looked over to Max’s smoldering carcass. “You fulfilled the prophecy, just as the seer predicted. You saved this world.”
“I don’t give a shit about any of that. Help her!” What the hell was wrong with Freya? They were losing Megan and all she could do was talk about some fucking prophecy.
Freya was an Ancient—she could stop this.
“You do not think I would, had I those magicks? ’Tis not within my power.” The goddess stroked Megan’s cheek.
Fire’s breaths came slower and more shallow as she struggled to draw in air.
“Help her!”
“I cannot. Few Ancients hold the power over human life, and none would lift a finger to help an Amazon. Only Rhiannon can help her now.”
“Rhiannon!” Johann bellowed. “Please, m’lady! We need you! I need you!”
“She will not come,” Freya said. “Rhiannon will not break the
vow she made to no longer be my ally. She will not come for my daughter.” Tears rolled down Freya’s cheeks while she stroked Megan’s tangled hair away from her face.
“Rhiannon! Please!” There had to be something he could offer her, something that would sway the goddess. “I’ll give you anything, damn it! Anything!”
The Lady of the Lake appeared in a bright flash. Her gaze quickly swept the scene. “Fire is dying.”
“Save her. Freya said you can save her.”
Rhiannon’s face hardened. “Save an Amazon who betrays me?” When she shook her head, Johann scrambled to his feet.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to beg for her help or grab her and shake her until she agreed. “She didn’t betray you.”
Even though he didn’t think it possible, Rhiannon’s expression grew stiffer.
“If anyone betrayed you it was me.” He looked down at Megan. How she was still alive was beyond him, but he would do anything to keep her from slipping away—he’d humble himself before Rhiannon. “Save her, I beg you. I’ll promise you anything.”
Rhiannon’s blond eyebrow arched. “Anything?”
Johann nodded. “Anything.”
“And should I ask you to leave her—to never see Megan Feurer again in this lifetime? Would you so readily agree? Even knowing that was the cost?”
“You wouldn’t—you couldn’t—” he stammered.
Freya nodded. “Aye, she would. In exchange for the precious gift of life, she demands the hardest thing for you to give.”
Hard? Promising never to see Megan again?
Hard didn’t come close to describing it.
Freya reached up and laid a hand on his arm. “You must save her, Sentinel. You must save Megan.”
Rhiannon was asking the impossible.
Johann stared down at Megan. He really would do anything to save her—he’d take her place if he had to. Because if she died, his soul would die with her. Every day from this one forward would be agony, knowing Megan was out there and that he couldn’t share a single minute with her.
At least she’d be alive.
That would have to be enough. “Fine. Whatever you want.”
“Swear it,” the goddess demanded. “Just as you made a vow to save your sister, swear to me now that you will do exactly as I demand.”
