“That is something I trust you will find out,” Rose said.

A second wave of vampires streamed in through the open doors, surrounding us. Harker drew his sword and charged at them. His magic must have been running too low to repeat the spontaneous combustion trick again. Ignoring Rose’s warnings, I jumped into the fray to help him. I shot one of them before he could shoot Harker, then threw another one aside so I could move back-to-back with him.

“I see you’ve made your decision.” Rose’s words dripped with disappointment.

“Yeah, I guess I really have,” I told her.

Harker and I fought off the vampires together, our movements coordinated, as though we’d practiced this a million times before. Except I hadn’t. In fact, I’d never fought this well before, but I could feel him feeding me a little of his magic, of his experience—giving me a little nudge to bring me through the movements like a dancer leading his partner. And we were magnificent.

Until the Legion came.

As our own soldiers poured through the doors, engaging the never-ending stream of Rose’s vampires, that strand between me and Harker snapped.

“This was supposed to be between us. You promised you wouldn’t tell the Legion,” I said, the sting of his betrayal burning my throat.

“Are you really going to be angry about this now?” He shot another vampire. “Right now, they are saving our lives. You can be mad at me later.”

He was right, but I was too upset with him to admit it. And too busy to argue with him. I had to stay alive. Rose was right about one thing: if I died, I couldn’t save my brother.

So I fought and killed the vampires. Red stained my vision, a combination of blood and anger and that old enemy fear. I didn’t slow, and I didn’t stop to think about what I was doing. If I stopped, I was dead. The vampires were too fast. Worse yet, the realization of what I was doing—the people I was killing—would cripple me in such a way that not even supernatural speed could make up for it.

Caught in this daze of crimson, I was vaguely aware of Harker beside me, hacking through vampires left and right. Their bodies were piling up everywhere, falling in my path. Bile rose in my throat at the sheer scale of death around me.

Harker broke through the line of vampires, making a run for Rose as she tried to escape. She didn’t make it far. He lifted his sword, and in one swift stroke, he cut clear through her neck. Her head thumped to the ground, her body tumbling down a moment later. I froze, paralyzed. Rose was dead. Ivy would be crushed.

That moment of distraction cost me. A vampire grabbed hold of my arm, yanking me toward him as he bit down hard on my neck. Pain bubbled up from the mark his fangs had torn into my flesh. I kicked him in the knee, then hurled him at the wall.

I looked for my next target, but a rush of dizziness made me stumble. Something hot and wet was gushing down my neck. I lifted my hand to my throat to find it torn open and slick with my own blood. That same blood sprinkled down from me, splattering the floor. But I couldn’t give up now. The vampires had us outnumbered. Where were they all coming from? I considered reaching into my jacket for a roll of gauze and trying to bandage up my wound, but a solid thump to my head from a nearby vampire reminded me that I didn’t have time for that shit. I’d just have to fight bloody.

My mind was too stubborn to give up, but my body was failing. My vision blurred, my steps swayed. Hands caught me before I hit the ground. I blinked, looking up into Harker’s face.

“Leda, gods,” he gasped, his eyes widening. “What happened to you?”

I tried to steady myself, to stand on my own two feet, but he held on like I was one step away from falling to pieces. I was too numb to know if he was right. I could hear the clash of steel and the crunch of bones. The fight was still going on, and I should have been in it.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, pushing against his stubborn hold. “Let me go.”

“You can’t fight, Leda. Not in this state.”

I blinked several times in quick succession, trying to clear my vision. But darkness was falling, consciousness slipping. I felt a warm pulse of magic encase me like a blanket, and then I passed out.

20

Magic in a Bottle

I dreamed I was standing on the battlefield between two warring armies, each side led by angels. Beautiful and terrible, they clashed in a war of magic and might that shook the ground and echoed across the heavens. Swords clashed. Steel clanged. The stench of blood and sulfur and death permeated the air. Feathers fluttered on the wind. The soil was soaked with blood; it spread out from the battlefield, blackening the Earth. The storm of spells raged on.

A woman in a black leather Legion uniform split across the battleground in a burst of inhuman speed, her pale blonde hair swooshing across her face as she slashed through the enemy ranks with her fire sword. She threw a look over her shoulder, and that’s when I saw her face—my face—staring back at me.

She sprang into the air, then slammed her fist down. Jets of fire erupted from the ground, shooting up into raging pillars of flames. She strode across the battlefield, wings spreading out from her back, her dark purple-black feathers shimmering like petals of luxurious velvet in the light of the setting sun. Bodies fell before her. Men turned and ran from her. The ground shook beneath her.

A jolt of pain ruptured my ribcage. I looked down to find a sword protruding from my chest. I turned around to face the person who’d stabbed me in the back, but I blacked out before I could see their face.