“As well as the Hellraisers’
gemini
,” Whit said, grim.
Zora had not considered that. Her heart sank.
“Our small army ... needs allies,” said Livia. “Gather them. But my strength ... fades. Too much. I need—”
Her words abruptly stopped as her image flickered. She tried to speak, but no sound came from her. Another flicker, and she was gone.
They waited many minutes, but Livia did not reappear.
“Do you think ... ?” Zora could not finish the question.
“I don’t know. But I do know that I want to get you far away from this place.”
Holding hands, they walked through the streets of Manchester. Darkness lay thick over the streets, and things lurked in the shadows. Zora kept her fire magic close. Whit did not sheath his sword, but had it out and ready.
Finally, they made it to the edges of the city, then continued warily onward until it was well behind them. Seeking safety, they made their way back to the glen. It had been but a few hours since they had lain here, made love here, willfully pushing the coming threat from their minds.
They had met the threat, and survived. But the fight was far from over.
She could not think of that now. She wanted only him.
In the protective shelter of the glen, they reached for each other. They kissed, deep and long. They were bold together. Tender, too. Everything she wanted. She was exhausted, wrung out, yet he renewed her spirit with his own.
“I have something of yours,” she murmured.
“My heart.”
“And I will treasure it, always. But this belongs to you.” She pulled back slightly and pressed an object into his hand.
For some moments, he simply stared at the pocket watch. Then he closed his eyes and gripped it tightly.
“They would be proud of you,” she said.
“I think ... they would, too.” He slipped the watch into his waistcoat pocket.
She reached for his hand. “There’s something I need to see.”
Summoning her fire, she brought forth just enough to illuminate his skin. What she saw made her heart lift.
“Gone.” He tugged at his clothing, pulling off his coat, his waistcoat and shirt, casting them all upon the ground like discarded regrets. Wonder and relief shone in his gaze when he beheld his flesh, marked only by the wounds he’d taken in his many battles. But the flames that had marked him as the Devil’s possession, those had vanished.
Zora pressed her lips to his shoulder. He was hot satin, tasting of sweat, blood, and him. This sinfully handsome gambler. The man who had ridden into the Rom encampment, the man whom she had cheated at cards, and desired upon first sight. He was the same, yet entirely altered. As was she. They had traveled together and changed together, and with each stage of their transformation, they became precisely who they needed to be. For themselves, and each other.
A perilous journey lay ahead of them, and she would not deny her fear. She thought of all their adversaries, all the hazards: the
gemini
, demons, the Devil, the Hellraisers.
She gazed up at him. “To love you in the midst of danger means I have everything to lose.”
“I will always be with you,” he vowed, framing her face with his hands. “Fighting beside you. Loving you.”
“If I have that, if I have you,” she murmured against his lips, “I gladly take the gamble.”