Chapter Forty-Four
Asher
She's fast, braced for a fight before we reach her.
The parents huddle in the corner, shaking, bruised but alive.
At least we're not too late.
"Oh, sure," Kayden mutters, voice sharp. "The parents who disowned their daughter because she didn't dance to their tune. I couldn't care less if they die, but you do, Sage, deep down, you still do."
Sage presses a hand to her chest in mock solemnity. "Ah yes, my little heart, how it bleeds."
She moves before the words fade. A blur. I step in, intercept her mid-lunge, slam her into the wall. Kayden's there too, closing in. We move together like we used to, with reflex and instinct, but every strike we pull makes it harder.
She laughs through it.
"Get out!" I bark at the parents as we force her back toward the corner.
They scramble up. The mother stumbles, heels catching on the floor.
Sage moves too fast for me to intercept and catches her from behind, hand clamping the woman's throat.
"One twist," she purrs. "And it's over."
We freeze.
She laughs again, low and bright. "Two pathetic excuses for vampires. So much empathy. It's sad, really."
Then the air changes. A hiss from the vents. The scent hits first—sharp and acrid.
Wildbane. And nightshade.
Sage coughs, choking, her grip faltering. The mother breaks free, finally running.
But it's in us, too. My lungs seize. Kayden staggers, cursing.
"The bastard," he grunts between coughs. "He set us up. He'll take her and leave us to die."
I drop to one knee, vision swimming, breath burning. I don't answer. I don't know. I'm afraid of the same thing. Once she's caught, we're dispensable. Especially if Darius isn't looking to save her, but to fulfill his duty.
The alarm screams, shrill and metallic. I can hear the guests flood the exits, panic tripping through high heels and velvet coats.
I try to move but my body's heavy, muscles sluggish from the gas. Then the door swings open. The red-haired púca steps in, mask on, two more in hand. He doesn't waste words. He straps one over my face, one over Kayden's. I pull in a clean breath.
He snaps earpieces into place, and his voice crackles through comms.
"Snap out of it, bloodsuckers. I need you vertical. People she touched are losing their minds. Get them down before they start killing each other."
He's already turning toward Sage, collapsed on the floor. Kayden blocks him.
"No. You don't touch her. I've got her."
The púca sighs, rolling his eyes behind the mask. "Sure, lover boy. Just don't drop her."
Kayden's moving before he's finished talking, grim determination and stubborn will holding him together.
I follow the púca out into the main hall. "I'll neutralize anyone showing aggression," I say over comms. "Non-lethal only."
A snort buzzes in my ear. "Adorable. A vampire preaching restraint. What a century."
I ignore him. The ballroom's a war zone. Civility gone in seconds, animal panic surfacing. I've seen it before—civilization is paper-thin.
A man grabs a knife from a table. He lunges for a musician's back. I cross the distance in a blur and drop him with one hit, catch his head before it hits marble. Lay him down gently. Another, then another. Controlled, efficient force.
The alarm's a cover. There's no fire. Only chaos.
Outside, the night's full of sirens and confusion. Police are restraining guests, firefighters herd people into groups. Through the haze, I catch sight of the púca. He's still working, dropping one of Sage's thralls with quick precision.
At some point, I see Tomas and then Astrid, doing the same. Still with us, fighting the chaos, saving people.
Kayden appears from the exit, Sage limp in his arms. Darius is waiting by the car, tux still immaculate, fury barely hidden.
I start toward them, but movement on my periphery freezes me. A security guard. Eyes glassy, weapon raised.
Gunfire cracks. Screams. Someone drops.
I move. Not full speed, not here. Two bullets hit me before I get to him. I take him down, disarm, press him to the ground until the police swarm in.
The civilians he shot aren't getting up.
"Damn it," I breathe.
"Get to the car, Ash," Kayden's voice comes through comms, frantic and ragged.
The púca's voice cuts in next. "Got the parents. They're secured."
"Keep them contained," Darius replies.
"Yes, boss," the púca answers.
I slip through the chaos and into the van. Sage lies on the seats, her hair tangled, lips pale. The darkness has quieted around her. Without the cruel smirk, she looks like herself. Our Sage. Mine.
"I have a safe house nearby," Darius says from the front seat.
Kayden laughs under his breath bitterly. "Yeah, sure. Let's put her in a lab like some case study."
"She needs somewhere familiar," I add. "Home."
Darius hesitates. Nods. "Then I hope you have restraints, because what comes next won't be a pretty domestic sight."
Kayden brushes her hair back. "Pretty's the last thing I care about."
I press a hand to my side, feel the two fresh wounds, the ache under them. I look at her again, beautiful and wrong and ours.
Catching her was survival. Getting her back… that's war.