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  As quickly as her glow brightened, haloing around her, the light was extinguished. Her eyes wild, Briony glanced around desperately before she caught sight of something Sebastian couldn’t see. From his perspective, there was nothing abnormal about this alley.

  Briony leapt from the car and started to pound her fists against the brick side of the nearby building.

  “Damn you, Radburn! Why did you take this from me? Why?”

  Chapter 5

  BRIONY didn’t care about the bits of brick she’d embedded in her hands by the time Sebastian reached her, wrenching her back against him.

  He didn’t hear me. Oh God, I hope he didn’t hear me. If Radburn heard her words for Sebastian, he was as good as dead.

  Kicking out, she made contact with the wall for a moment until her foot was propelled away. For a split second she could see Radburn’s satisfied grin before his entity vanished. This time, when she thrust her booted foot out in her last-ditch effort to destroy Radburn’s spell, a wickedly sharp nail grew from the brick the second her heel touched it.

  The nail cut through the thick rubber heel of her boot as if it was butter, and it wasn’t due to the force of her kick.

  “Stop doing this to yourself!” Sebastian forcibly dragged her away from the swirling black mass slithering in the crevices of the wall, behind where the dumpster usually was. She could see it because Radburn was letting her; as of roughly five minutes ago, she was powerless.

  Mortal.

  Soon her hands would wither, signaling her age catching up to her now-human body. When they finally turned black and crumbled into dust, the rest of her body would do the same.

  She was a ticking time bomb, only there would be no resulting destruction. There would simply be nothing left of Briony except for her coven and Sebastian. Her fists clenched, and she gasped from the regret tearing through her. Never should she have told him what could be, what would never be now that she would die.

  At least Sebastian was safe for now. If Radburn had heard them, Sebastian would already be dead.

  “What the hell’s going on? Why did you attack the wall?”

  Unwilling for Radburn to eavesdrop on another one of her conversations, she shook her head meaningfully, silent until they were safe within the walls of her home. She touched the Who Dat mural on the inside of her front door, its glitter rough against her fingers. It had been there when she moved in, and she’d planned to cover the gold, oversize fleur-de-lis and curling letters with something unrelated to a violent sport, but she’d become fond of the team and its sayings, and even found herself elated every time the Saints won a game.

  She’d never been to one. Now she probably never would, given the little time she had left was too precious for such a long event. She had two, maybe three weeks. And that was if she was lucky and Radburn merciful.

  “Forget everything I told you earlier.” She almost lied and told Sebastian she was wrong about their possible future, but she wouldn’t start that sick habit now, and especially not with him.

  All he’d ever done was put others before himself. He took care of Harry, something that had won over her entire coven long before one of its members met him. Sebastian had no idea he had a small army of witches at his disposal, should he or his pack need them.

  Many were on standby as of today, an extra precaution since Raphael and his mate were out of the city. She’d almost told Sophia and Heath about this, since they were head soldiers, but had opted not to. The element of surprise was key in any battle, and if anyone was watching the firehouse like she now knew Radburn had been watching the areas around her house, they’d be alerted to the werewolves’ extra security.

  “I damn well won’t,” Sebastian answered in a surprisingly pleasant tone. “Care to explain what’s really going on?”

  She glanced down at her hands, which were bleeding, and ignored the blood she was tracking from the deep gauge the nail had torn into her heel. She felt pain, more pain than she’d ever felt in her immortal life, because she no longer had her enhanced capacity to heal. Nothing was preventing her from feeling everything. Sensation overwhelmed her, but it was the few fine lines she saw on the backs of her hands that made her swoon.

  Swoon. Like a mortal in those regency romance novels she liked to read from time to time. She was that weak now.

  Of course Sebastian caught her, swearing when he looked down at her bloody footprints.

  “I really don’t,” she said in equally breezy, if slightly pained, tone. She wasn’t used to this. Sebastian supported the majority of her weight while she limped to her kitchen, rifling through bags and bottles of herbs in her pantry until she found what she needed.

  “Nothing can alter what just happened, so there’s no point in telling you.” She took out a small bottle of green comfrey salve, using it to point at him. “All this means is we can never be mated. I’m sorry…you’ll never have a mate.” Her voice broke, and she felt the burn of impending tears. I can’t let him see me cry. Tilting her head back, she refused to let the salty droplets fall.

  The tears weren’t for her…they were meant for Sebastian. There was no chance he’d find another true mate. She was it for him, his soulmate.

  It’s so unfair. He doesn’t deserve this. Like he didn’t deserve to be imprisoned for as long as he’d been.

  Be that as it may, it was better for him to be without a mate and alive than mated with only a few weeks to live. For weres and their mates, the connection wasn’t built simply on love or sexual attraction, but a magic-based connection between them, merging their powers and life spans. Death for one meant death for them both.

  Too many people depended on Sebastian for his life to be in jeopardy.

  He grasped her head in both hands, forcing her to look at him fully for the second time that night. “You don’t mean that,” he whispered, and the hurt she could see spreading in his aura almost undid her.

  “I wish I didn’t.” Tearing from his hold, she applied the salve to her foot and bandaged it before turning to limp for her bedroom.

  “Get your things,” Sebastian shouted up the stairs. “You’re staying at the firehouse whether you like it or not. I’ll make sure our rooms are separated by a few floors.”

  Pain and betrayal were apparent in his voice, and yet he was still being kind to her, trying his best to keep her safe and comfortable.

  Briony let herself bawl until there were no tears left.

  Eventually she pulled herself together enough to pack about a week’s worth of clothes and essentials into a bag she’d spelled to be self-organized. As she threw in bras, herbs, and a particularly strong protection talisman, they fell neatly into compartments separated by invisible lines.

  Getting her things in order took her longer than she anticipated. She couldn’t shake the feeling that everything in her life was about to change. Sebastian’s eyes bored through her while she scoured her home, taking a few cherished gifts her Big Mama had given her from the nooks and crannies she’d hidden them in. Finally, two spelled bags were full and she couldn’t think of anything she’d miss here other than the peaceful space.

  When she tried to lift one bag over her shoulder Sebastian made an irritated hissing noise that surprised her so much, she burst into laughter as she let her bag fall to the floor. “You sounded like an angry cat,” she exclaimed, wondering how she was able to laugh on the very day she realized she didn’t have forever to live.

  Only Sebastian could bring light into her darkness like this. He released a very canine growl that raised every hair on her body, baring his sharp, straight teeth at her. Then he grinned so quickly, she would have missed it had she blinked. Raising his head, he howled, eliciting emphatic responses from what seemed to be all the dogs in the vicinity.

  Briony smiled, finding herself at peace with her circumstances. They weren’t anywhere near ideal, but she trusted this man who was willing to make a fool out of himself in order to see her smile. He would wat
ch over Big Mama, Harry, and her coven. He’d keep her comfortable when the time came for her to pass. Most importantly, even without her magic she knew he could defeat Radburn and the float of warlocks he ran with.

  “I’m no cat, but I am angry,” Sebastian said in a soft voice as he threw her bags over his shoulders. Briony picked up the stuffed cat, Gris-Gris, she’d had since she was a child and followed him out the front door. They got into his car without looking at each other.

  “I can hardly blame you.”

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, the only outward sign of his irritation. Cutting a severe look at the alley where she’d fallen apart earlier, he turned onto the road two blocks down. “Why were you crying earlier, in your bedroom?”

  The more she found herself around weres and shapeshifters, the more Briony realized their superhuman hearing revealed far more than she liked. She didn’t answer his question, but squeezed Gris-Gris tighter. There was no reason to burden Sebastian with the truth of her until she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Once her hands began to truly wither, she wouldn’t be able to keep it from him.

  Besides, he couldn’t be thinking about her tomorrow. To stand a chance against the warlocks, he’d need rigid control over his elemental powers, and relentless focus.

  “Fine, but since you’re keeping secrets from me, I want a promise.”

  “What?”

  “Stop being afraid of me.”

  Studying his face, she saw the muscles in his jaw jumping. The waning light hit the planes of his cheekbones, making him look like the statue of a highly insulted Greek god.

  It was impossible for her to tell him everything given her gag, and wrong for her to tell him what little she could, but Briony wouldn’t allow him to think she feared him.

  That would be a lie.

  “I’m not,” she told him simply. Sensing a caustic retort, she continued on. “I’ve been afraid you’d feel stuck with me, had we mated. It’s why I wouldn’t let you come home with me last night when I really wanted you to.”

  “I’d never resent my mate!”

  Briony snorted. “You didn’t know you had one until today, and from what Harry told me, you aren’t exactly the relationship type. It would be quite the change for you.”

  Sebastian murmured something under his breath that involved stringing Harry up by his hair and allowing the gators to eat him. “But we won’t be mated anyway, right? Something to do with that brick wall?”

  Sadness wrapping her heart in a vice, she nodded.

  Confusion and grief made the air heavy until they reached the firehouse, where Sebastian settled Briony into a room on the same floor Leila stayed in most weekends. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said sincerely before he left her alone, suddenly drowning in her sorrow yet again.

  Like the rest of the rooms in the firehouse, her new bedroom was impeccably decorated. There were no expensive antiques or any designer furniture. It was homey, as if someone had handpicked every piece for comfort. The bed was soft, covered in a worn quilt made from T-shirts, some with Greek letters on them, others with names of alternative bands. A dresser painted lime green stood in the corner opposite a large window that allowed the city lights to infiltrate the space.

  A poem hung on the wall, but Briony didn’t bother to read it. She was an eternal optimist, but she wasn’t stupid. Nothing, no matter how uplifting, could make her feel better right now. The only exception was Sebastian, and she’d hurt him.

  It wasn’t half an hour before Aiyanna showed up, her hair wrapped in a messy bun on top of her head and a mug of something steaming clutched in her hand. “Sebastian said you were hurt again, so I thought I’d bring you some of my famous cayenne pepper hot chocolate along with a bit of healing.”

  Briony took the mug and drank, knowing the chocolate would help center her. She almost groaned, it was so good—Aiyanna made it thick, with just enough spice.

  When she peeled back the bandages on her foot, the shapeshifter gasped. “What the hell kind of juju have you gotten yourself into?”

  The wound hadn’t healed at all. If anything it worsened, becoming more inflamed than ever despite the healing salve she’d applied earlier.

  Making a snap decision, Briony held up her hands for Aiyanna to see. “The kind that makes me mortal.” The changes in the texture of her skin were subtle, but more than enough for any healer to see. Hers were no longer the hands of an immortal creature.

  Aiyanna cursed darkly. “You’re in some serious trouble, witch. I don’t see any way you can get out of this.” Her words were blunt, but not unkind.

  “I’m not expecting to be saved,” Briony said honestly. “I want the warlocks brought to heel without Sebastian going down with them.”

  The healer nodded as she typed something into her phone. Reaching out, her touch took the throbbing pain away from Briony’s heel and drew the stinging sensation from the palms of her hands. Vicious scars were the only traces left of her injuries, another indication of her newfound mortality. Healers’ gifts worked flawlessly on other immortal creatures, but faced staggering limitations with weaker beings.

  “What do you think you’re doing, moving in here?”

  For a startled moment, Briony thought Cael was speaking to her from where he stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, but Aiyanna responded.

  “First of all, I was invited. Sophia thought it would be a good idea for me to stick around while Raphael and Mary are gone. Mainly, though, I’m going to watch the witch’s back.”

  Cael’s normally olive skin turned markedly lighter. “She’s moved in too?”

  “Yep.”

  The werewolf shook his head. “When Raphael gets back, I’m going to kick his ass.” He looked up with a sigh. “Still need help packing up?”

  “Oh, yes.” Aiyanna hopped to her feet with the type of grace reserved for only the most catlike of creatures. She pinned Briony with a glare. “Stay away from sharp objects and Heath when he teleports. I may be a healer by trade, but I’ve hit my limit with your booboos for the day.”

  Cael didn’t comment, but looked at them both strangely before he followed Aiyanna down the hall.

  Suddenly weary, Briony laid back and called Big Mama like she did most evenings. It was later than usual, but her grandmother picked up on the first ring. The conversation followed its usual pattern of Big Mama’s complaints about the coven’s High Witch, who’d taken her place once Big Mama decided she’d earned a peaceful retirement.

  As usual, her grandmother tried to end their talk positively. “At least Noam tries to keep our babies together, even if Harry won’t cooperate. They’re so vulnerable, out there on their own. Without their full powers, the mildest of spells can kill them.”

  Briony felt her breath hitch, praying Big Mama wasn’t heading in the direction she feared she was.

  “You could die, sug. I’d be driving into the city right now if I didn’t know you were with that sweet werewolf. We both knew the coven won’t help you.”

  Briony’s stomach lurched. That was a conversation she didn’t want to have with anyone.

  Besides, her grandmother was far too old to be worrying about her—having chosen to allow herself to age after the passing of her human husband, Big Mama was physically weak and only becoming weaker as time passed. She wasn’t quite mortal, though, having retained the majority of her magic.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Briony said in her most convincing tone. “A healer is going to stay with me in case I get hurt.”

  “That won’t stop the aging process,” Big Mama said on a tsk. Silence hung on the line for a long minute before Big Mama spoke again. “But you see, child, you’re not going to die of old age.”

  “What?”

  “If you pass on it’ll be soon, in a way I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. And if you let that happen to yourself I’ll never forgive you.”

  “But he’s taken all of my defense
s away. I don’t see how I can fight back, for myself or anyone else.” She didn’t like having others fight her battles, but what option did she have? She thought about the knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, shouting that he would gum his opponents to death.

  Everything had been taken away from her, to the extent where she felt as if all of her limbs had been taken away. I’d rather lose both legs than my magic. What good was her body if it couldn’t do what it was meant to?

  “I didn’t raise you to be a victim, Briony Belle.” With that harsh pronouncement, Big Mama hung up after a quickly murmured, “I love you.”

  Later that night, Briony tossed and turned for hours until exhaustion pulled her into a restless sleep filled with nightmares.

  Blood soaked her dreams, and there was no regulating her terror. It poured from her relentlessly, keeping her within the confining walls of sleep, where control was out of reach and Radburn’s laughing voice reigned supreme.

  Chapter 6

  SEBASTIAN grabbed his backpack when he heard Aiyanna sliding down the pole to land by the firehouse’s front door.

  He’d hoped to see Briony before leaving to go after the warlocks, but she’d been fast asleep the last time he’d checked on her half an hour ago. Her screams had echoed throughout the whole house last night, keeping even the heaviest sleepers awake. Unable to stop himself, he climbed into bed with her and held her while she convulsed in horror, sweat pouring, causing her beautiful hair to stick to her skin.

  Now she seemed to be sleeping somewhat peacefully, as if her body had said, enough, and shut down.

  What was going on with her? Ever since she’d gone berserk on that wall yesterday her scent had been off, and the only words she spoke to him were ones of rejection. What happened?

  Once he got back from killing Radburn, he intended to find out. Then he could begin the process of convincing her to be his mate.

  She didn’t stand a chance.

  “You guys ready?” Harry emerged from the kitchen, a huge muffin dotted with cranberries in his hand. The subtle scent of a second muffin emanated from where he’d stuffed it in his backpack.