This time, she didn’t hesitate to draw her sword. Adam’s back was to her as he raised a stake over the Count’s chest. Giguhl held the vamp’s arms from behind. Neither saw her coming.

“Adam!” I screamed.

He jerked around just in time to see the blade. He leapt to the side. Porcia flicked her wrist at the last second and the steel sliced across the mage’s ribs. Adam fell hard with a pained grunt. The movement made his coat fall open, revealing a rapidly spreading red stain.

My blood went glacial. In a single leap I managed to make the roof before Porcia could deliver a deathblow. The sword hovered above her head, ready to descend. My hands clamped around her hands just as she flexed her muscles to bring it down.

“Giguhl,” I grunted, struggling against Porcia’s straining muscles. “Help Adam!”

I kicked with the toes of my boots against the back of Porcia’s legs, trying desperately to break her grip on the sword. A blur of green in my peripheral vision told me Giguhl had gone to check on Adam.

My arms shook with the effort of pulling against Porcia’s impressive strength. Instead of waiting to see who weakened first, I decided to go old-school.

I struck like a snake, aiming for her jugular. The move forced me to weaken my grip on the sword. But luckily, Giguhl was already pulling Adam out of harm’s way.

The minute the sharp points broke skin, Porcia’s body jerked and she screamed with rage. I clamped down harder, getting as much skin as blood. Metal clattered on stone.

My hands gripped the insides of her elbows, holding her close. Then I jerked my head back, taking a chunk of her neck with me.

She dropped to her knees. Her hand flew uselessly to the wound at her neck. Only time and blood could fix that extensive damage. Unlucky for her, she had neither at her disposal.

I spat the taste of her from my mouth and grabbed the broadsword. Gripping the leather hilt in my hand, I raised the weapon. I still had the gun tucked into my waistband. But some special moments just call for the satisfying slice of a blade.

Despite the bulkiness of the sword, I managed to bring it up easily. No hesitation or doubts stilled my hand. I brought in down hard and true. Porcia’s head rolled from her shoulders.

Before it hit the roof, both it and her body burst into flames. I dropped the sword and swung around, pulling the gun as I went. Erron and Ziggy fought the Count. Their feet were on solid ground, but I had the advantage of a bird’s-eye view.

“Erron, duck!”

The recreant didn’t hesitate or question. He simply dropped to the ground. The Count looked up a split second after the gun’s bark ripped through the night. The whites of his eyes widened and stood in stark contrast to the mottled purple of his battered face.

This bullet he caught right between the eyes.

As the inevitable sparks flared where he used to stand, I wiped a trembling hand across my forehead.

Giguhl called out. “Sabina, you need to get down here!”

I jerked back into motion. As I leapt from the building, my heart pounded.

Adam lay atop a concrete pad set into the ground. Giguhl knelt next to him, staring intently at the mage’s chest. I slowed, my stomach sinking at the sight of Adam’s too-white complexion and the beads of sweat gathered on his forehead.

I ran over and skidded to my knees in front of him. I felt Erron and Ziggy fall in behind me. “Tell me.”

Adam swallowed. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“Bullshit,” I said, my concern making me default to clipped speech. I slapped Giguhl’s hands away to see for myself.

So much blood. I gently lifted the edge of his shirt to get a better look at the actual wound. An angry red slash— maybe six or eight inches long— cut across his lower ribs to the muscled ridges of his abdomen. Not as bad as I’d expected, but bad enough that I wanted to kill that bitch all over again.

“Can you heal yourself?” Giguhl asked. His claws were covered in Adam’s blood. My stomach clenched at the sight.

Adam swallowed and shook his head. “Too weak from all the spells.”

I rounded on Erron. “You have to do it.”

The musician’s eyes widened. “Me?”

I leapt up to get in his face. “You’ll help us fight, but you won’t help him heal?”

Erron’s face was placid, without a line of stress or guilt. “Can’t.”

I turned to Ziggy. “You, then!”

The quiet mage shook his head and held up his hands as he backed away.

“Sabina,” Adam gasped behind me. I looked over my shoulder. “They can’t help.”

“Why the fuck not?” Giguhl demanded.

“When someone goes recreant, the Council strips them of their healing powers,” Adam said in a low tone, like he was sharing a shameful secret. “It was his punishment for declaring himself outside their laws.”

My mouth fell open. When he’d told me they were outcasts, I assumed he meant they just had a difference of opinion with the Council. Not that they were shunned and stripped of certain powers. But as much as I felt bad about the seeming unfairness of that situation, my priority was getting Adam healed.

“Anyway, he’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch,” Erron said.

“You know what? If you’re not going to help, you can just leave,” I snapped.

“Sabina,” Adam said. “They just helped us.”

“Right, and now they probably just want to get back to your orgy or whatever. Don’t worry about us.”

Erron’s eyes darkened. “Yes, we do so hate to miss out on the orgy. We apologize for intruding on your street party.”

Guilt pricked behind my eyes. But I didn’t have time to apologize. Adam was still bleeding. “Bye now.” Dismiss ing the recreants from my mind, I turned to the demon. “Giguhl, go get the car,” I barked.

The air popped as Erron and Ziggy left. Adam watched me with a wary expression. “Red? You need to chill.”

“Just tell me what to do.” It humbled me to not know what to do to help him. But since I came from a race that self-healed without trying, my knowledge of basic first aid was sorely lacking.

“Take off your shirt.”

I paused. “Why?” Suspicion slowed my delivery.

He rolled his eyes. “You need to apply pressure to slow the bleeding.”

Without further comment, I ripped off my jacket and tore off my tank. The way the mancy’s eyes flared at the sight of me clad only in a bra told me he was far enough from death’s door.

“Now what?”

“Press it to the wound. Hard.”

“But won’t that hurt?” He shot me an impatient glare.

I placed the wadded shirt against the cut, pressing as instructed. The fabric went from white to red almost instantly as blood soaked in.

He hissed through clenched teeth. “More.”

Ignoring the voice inside shouting that hurting him more was the last thing I wanted, I did as instructed. Gods love him, he tried to hide his pain.

He swallowed hard. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

He shrugged, and the look on his face told me he immediately regretted the move.

“Okay, um, have I mentioned that if you ever scare me like this again I’m going to kill you?”

“We really need to work on your bedside manner.” He paused. “But ditto.”

I drew back. “Me? I’m not the one bleeding.”

“Sabina, since we’ve known each other you’ve been staked twice—”

I cut in. “That first time was your fault. Or did you conveniently forget sending Giguhl to my apartment to shoot me with a crossbow?”

He winced, this time from a guilty conscience instead of the wound. “But I’ve had to see you in pain, too.”

I held up a hand. “Okay, fine. I get into a lot of fights. Big deal. You don’t have to worry about me. My body is a healing machine.”

“I wasn’t just talking about physical wounds, Sabina.” His hand came up to rub my cheek. “Your preternatural abilities don’t extend to less visible injury.”

Suddenly a conversation meant to distract him from his pain had turned into a chat about my emotional wounds. Time to change the subject. “How about we discuss that after we get your very visible chest wound healed.”

He tipped my chin so I was forced to look in his eyes. “Have I mentioned I’m a huge fan of that bra?”

The corner of my lip twitched. “This old thing?”

The scream of metal crashing into metal ripped a hole in the silence. Keeping one hand pressed to Adam’s chest, I grabbed my gun as I swiveled on my heels. Two headlights sped toward us. I squinted and made out the shape of Giguhl’s horns behind the windshield.

“Looks like the cavalry arrived,” I said.

“Please tell me you’re driving back to the shop. I’d hate to survive a sword attack only to die in a fiery car crash.”

Giguhl slammed on the brakes. The Gremlin fishtailed and sprayed dirt and pebbles at us. I ducked over Adam to protect him from the spray. When I looked up again, Giguhl was jumping out of the car and running around the crunched fender of the Gremlin toward us.

“G, I appreciate you getting the car, but did you really have to crash through the gates?”

The demon skidded to a halt in front of me with his claws on his hips. “Well, excuse me, Miss Perfect. For your information, I’ve never driven a car before.”

My mouth fell open. When I’d ordered him to drive, he’d had no choice but to comply. In my stress of seeing to Adam, I’d totally forgotten Giguhl had never driven a car. “Well, in that case, I’m impressed all you hit was a gate.”

Giguhl’s eyes shifted left. “Actually, we probably need to get moving.”

“Why?”

“It’s better that you don’t know in case the police come calling.”

Deciding I definitely didn’t want to know, I began issuing orders to ensure everyone could fit comfortably in the crowded car. Once Giguhl and Adam were settled— Giguhl back in cat form in the back and Adam riding shotgun— I ran back around to the driver’s side.