Jackie let the rage have her. She threw herself into the chaotic mass, letting it fill every cell until she felt like she would explode with the pressure. A high, ragged scream broke free of her mouth, vibrating her whole body with the force of it. The air shimmered, throbbing with her anger, seething in barely visible waves as it stretched out toward the armed, humanlike demons charging toward them.

The first three rows of soldiers clutched their heads, clenching and bowing over in agony. Blood leaked from their noses and ears as her scream stretched out, filling the cavern. Several demons fell. Those behind them trampled them under dirty feet.

Cain grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the charging horde.

She looked at Iain. He’d crawled aside to the base of a wall, and was struggling to regain his feet. One of the soldiers lifted a crooked, rusty sword to strike at him, but instead hit the flickering blue light of her shield.

She extended the protective wall across the barred door, preventing any of the soldiers from getting through.

“What are you doing?” asked Cain. “We have to run.”

“I’m not leaving without him.” She couldn’t. Even if all she carried out was his body, she couldn’t leave him here as food for demons.

He tugged on her arm, making her stumble. “I’m not letting you die.”

“Then put the girl down and lift your fucking sword. I’m doing this, with or without you.”

She didn’t wait for Cain to agree or even respond. She jerked her arm from his grasp and sucked in as much of Iain’s power as she could stand.

Fire. It poured out of her, roaring from her body in a golden cone of heat and light. It splashed through the bars, making them glow red. More solders fell, turning to ash before their screams had finished echoing off the cave walls. The stench was overpowering, but she didn’t dare try to juggle anything beyond fire and shielding Iain from it.

The flow of energy coming from Iain stuttered, and the fire simply stopped lurching from her body. She fell to her knees, shocked at the sudden loss of what she’d become so used to having. The emptiness rang through her, leaving her feeling scraped hollow, brittle, and weak.

Jackie reached up, expecting her throat to be bare of the luceria, but it was still there, hot and trembling with the recent barrage of power.

There were still at least two dozen guards left standing, and a horde of smaller demons. They crawled over the charred corpses of their kind, scrambling to reach the bars. Beyond them, she saw Murak standing watch, his arms crossed over his chest, a grin on his ugly face as if he was enjoying the show.

Jackie was going to kill him. He’d hurt Iain, and she was going to see to it that he paid for that, even if it cost her her life.

The first soldier busted the metal door wide and leaped through it. Another followed behind, and another.

She reached for Iain’s power, but all that was left was a weak, pitiful trickle.

He was dying, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

* * *

The scent of the pregnant woman’s blood slid into Ronan’s nose, intoxicating him. She was powerful, even in her weakened state. And she was close.

He turned around, thumping Drake on the shoulder so he’d follow along behind. “This way.”

The stone walls flew past him as he rushed forward, letting his nose lead the way. The stench of Synestryn grew heavier, sickening him. He didn’t dare try to block it out for fear of losing the woman’s trail.

Ronan spun around a corner and nearly ran headlong into a writhing pack of demons. They were all shapes and sizes, snarling and biting at one another as they piled high, trying to get to something he couldn’t see.

The woman. There were bars here. She had to be on the other side.

“Back up,” ordered Drake, pulling Ronan back by his arm.

A wave of flames washed out from Helen’s hand, crashing against the demon pile. Demons hissed and gurgled as they ignited, scurrying away in an effort to douse the fire.

“There’s a woman behind them!” Ronan shouted so that Helen wouldn’t kill her.

Immediately, the flames backed off. The smaller demons curled up into balls of ash and cinder. The larger ones turned toward the threat and charged. Two of the biggest ones hadn’t even bothered to stop and put out the fires consuming their fur. They simply charged in, teeth bared and ready for blood.

Ronan slipped aside, out of the path of the closest one. His thin blade slashed down, slicing through the beast’s tendons, rendering one of its legs useless.

“Get the woman,” shouted Drake. “We’ll hold them off.”

Ronan wasn’t a trusting man, but when it came to combat, he’d grown used to putting his life in the hands of the Theronai. Outside of combat, things were much, much different, but for now, he let trust reign and did as Drake said.

The bars were about ten feet tall, lodged deeply into both the rocky floor and ceiling. It was a standard setup for Synestryn captives, and one he’d seen used far too often for his liking.

Ronan inched his way around the smoldering pile of demons and kicked some aside so he could peer into the cage.

The woman was there, dirty and shivering. Her matted hair hung over her face, dragging the floor as she knelt, hugging herself. She was pressed into the farthest crevice she could find, rocking slightly and letting out a pitiful, low whimper.

Ronan’s heart broke for her. He could tell by the length of her hair and the ill fit of her clothes that she’d been here a long time. Years, perhaps.

Behind him, battle raged on, but he ignored it, putting all his focus on the frightened woman crouched a few feet away.

“I’m Ronan,” he told her, modulating his voice so that only gentleness came through—none of his anger. Within his tone, he embedded a hint of power, just a mere whisper of it, urging her to stay calm and trust him. Once she was in reach, he could do more, but for now, it was all he could manage. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

She looked up, her pale face covered in dirt save for two paths where her tears had run. Panic made her eyes wide, and he could see her heart fluttering wildly in the gaunt hollow of her throat.

She stayed there, frozen motionless, like a rabbit.

“I won’t hurt you.”

The bars blocked his path. He had enough strength to bend or break them, but then he’d be left weak and unable to help her further. And she was going to need help. She’d been starved. She was pregnant, likely with something inhuman. Bite marks covered her ankles, wrists, and throat. One was bleeding now. She was going to need him and his ability to heal her.

Ronan used his sword and boots to shove away the remains of the charred demons from the doorway. He pulled the leather sleeve of his coat down to cover his hand and pulled on the hot bars. The door was locked. Of course.

“Duck!” shouted Drake.

Ronan jerked toward the ground, making himself as small a target as possible. The severed head of a demon clanged against the bars, rattling them.

The woman looked up, her chin trembling. “The key,” she whispered, her bony finger pointing behind him. Her hand shook, but she was still with him, thinking clearly enough to help.

Ronan looked to where she pointed and saw the metallic glint of a key hanging from a hook driven into the stone.

He skirted around the remains of combat, ducking the splatter of black blood flinging from the tip of Drake’s sword. He grabbed the key and sprinted back, wasting no time in opening the door.

The woman was standing now, her clothing hanging from her frame. The sleeves were too short, as if she’d been wearing it for years. Her jeans were in tatters, held closed over her protruding belly with a bit of shoelace. The faint outline of a kitten was embroidered on one leg—a childish emblem meant for childish clothes.

Whoever she was, she’d been here a long, long time.

Ronan held out his hand, planting his feet solidly on the ground so that he didn’t give in to the urge to race toward her.

She looked at his hand, then his face, then past him to what was going on outside the bars.

“We won’t let them hurt you. Give me your hand.”

She took a step. He could see her whole body shaking with the effort.

“That’s right. Just a bit more and we’ll have you out of here.”

Another step, then another. She was close enough for him to extend his reach and take her hand, but he held firm, letting her come to him.

Her fingers settled against his skin, cold and clammy. The dirt caking her stood out in stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, Ronan closed his grip and offered her what he hoped was a kind smile.

All he tried to think about was getting her out, but thoughts of her captivity kept invading, distracting him from his goal. He couldn’t even imagine the things she must have suffered. The fact that she’d trust him enough now to touch him was humbling.

“Come on,” he said, sliding a bit of power through his words and touch, offering her his warmth and whatever slice of solace she could take from him.

Ronan tugged her forward and helped her over the corpses littering the area. Drake and Helen had taken care of the remaining demons, but there would be more. Her blood would draw them.

Without seeming like he was doing it, he shifted his grip to her bleeding wrist and healed the wound shut. It wasn’t deep, and it was a relief for him to be doing something useful for her. Given her current state, he wasn’t sure how much anyone could really do to help her.

“We need to go,” said Helen. “Those out feeding will be coming back soon and block our exit.”

They started back the way they’d come, but the woman tugged on his sleeve. “I know a faster way out. Go right up ahead.”

Drake led the way, and did as the woman said. About a hundred feet down the corridor, it opened up into a large cavern. The sounds of battle rang out from the far side.

Ronan pressed the woman back, shielding her from sight with his body. Fire flared, blinding him for a moment.

“Jackie,” breathed Helen. “That’s Jackie over there. With all those demons.”

Indeed she was, fighting like a woman possessed, clearly heedless of her own safety. Cain was there, too, along with two unconscious bodies—Iain and a young girl.

The fight wasn’t going well. There were too many of them. Cain was doing his best to keep the demons off both Jackie and the unconscious girl, but it was a losing battle.

Ronan wanted nothing more than to get the woman clinging to him out of this place, but he knew it would have to wait. Jackie was too valuable to lose, and there was no way Helen was going to leave her sister here to fight the demons by herself.

They were going to have to fight their way free.

Chapter 30

Jackie picked up Iain’s sword and held off any demon who dared come close to him. The small trickle of power flowing into her held Murak in place, preventing him from leaving. The bubble surrounding his body wobbled every time he struck it, but so far, it had held steady.

Iain was fading. She could feel his heartbeat weaken with every passing second. If she didn’t stop the bleeding, he wasn’t going to make it.

With a silent apology, she demanded more from Iain, drawing more of his power into herself—just enough to shield her back.