“Where is Jonathan?” I spun as I spit out the question, running down the stairs, fully expecting him to be gone.

And he was . . . almost.

A demon sat on his chest, its teeth latched onto his neck as it chewed into him. I leapt down the last few stairs and across the sand, fully tackling the demon like a linebacker. We rolled across the sand and I whispered for it to go. To return to wherever it was from.

It screeched and then its body dissolved into nothing but a puff of smoke. “PAMELA!” I screamed her name even as I scrambled back to Jonathan. Tracking him, I could feel his threads slipping away, the same as Blaz only hours before.

Pamela skidded to a stop on her knees and slapped her hands on the kid’s chest. His whole body jerked upward as she poured her magic into him. Slowly, the skin on his neck stitched back together and his breathing eased as he fell into a drowsy state that wasn’t quite sleeping, not quite unconscious.

I dropped my head, my chin touching my chest. “Holy fucking hell, that was close.”

A sigh rushed out of Pamela as she slumped beside me. “I’ve never worked that much magic in my whole life.”

I didn’t doubt it, and yet I knew worse was coming. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t have too.

“The final battle is going to be a thousand times harder, isn’t it?” she whispered. I reached across to her and took her hand.

“At least.”

Her lips tightened, and I was proud of her. Even a few months ago, that comment might have elicited tears, not the hardening of her resolve.

Footsteps echoed into the chamber and with them the sound of raised voices.

“You bring demons into my home and then you expect to me to help you?” Basileus snapped.

Lark’s voice was deceptively calm and she spoke as if her father never said a word. “Bella, it’s time, I think. You are his heir; I cannot do this.”

Watching them, I saw the resemblance between Belladonna and her father, but there was no such connection between Lark and her family. At least, physically. As Bella drew herself straight, she pulled out a necklace from under her nightshirt. A monster big emerald hung from a silver chain, catching the torchlight and flinging green glimmers over the room. Perhaps it was a mark of the heir to the Terraling’s throne. That would make sense.

“Father, I am your heir, am I not?” Bella asked.

The king nodded, a frown on his face. “You are, you know that is only temporary until I decide who would be better suited—”

Bella held a hand out to her father, placing it on his shoulder. “As heir to the throne, I place you under arrest for actively trying to subvert those who would save our world. Ender Lark, please take him to the dungeons.”

Lark clamped her hands over her father’s and I thought there was going to be another epic showdown. But he deflated under her, like a balloon losing the last of its air.

No more words were spoken as he was carted off to wherever the dungeons were.

Pamela looked at me with wide eyes. “Wow.”

Jonathan stirred beneath us. “Wow is not how I feel right now. I was dying. Who brought me back?”

Pamela cleared her throat. “I did.”

He sat up and glared at her. “The next time I’m dying, witch, let me die.”

Well, wasn’t that a pleasant how do you do.

I smacked him in the chest with the flat of my hand hard enough to leave a perfect imprint of my fingers as I drove him back to the sand. “After you do whatever you’re supposed to do in this battle, you can dive right in front of a demon and ask them for their personal touch, for all I care. Got it, kid?”

He blinked up at me, his crossed eyes focusing on me. “I remember you, Rylee. You took me from the Shadow Walker.”

I nodded. “Yes, with Lark.”

He glared at me. “Why is everyone so intent on keeping me alive, when all I want to do is die?”

“Like I said”—I crouched beside him—“once you help me, you do whatever the fuck you want.”

“But I can only help if you have the right payment,” he said softly and I felt it there, within the threads of his life as I Tracked him.

The same madness that had taken Giselle’s mind was eating away at his.

And he knew it.

CHAPTER 21

RYLEE

LARK WAS BACK in a few minutes, her face deeply troubled, if the look in her eyes meant anything.

“Lark, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but the air feels strange on my skin and the scent of demons is still very strong. Too strong. We need to go.”

I grabbed Jonathan’s hand and jerked him to his feet. Pamela turned away, a red haze on her cheeks. No time for niceties. “Let’s get him pants and get the fuck out of here then.”

Belladonna pulled her wrap from her shoulders and handed it to Lark. “Here. It isn’t pants, but it will cover him.”

Lark snagged the material and wrapped it around Jonathan’s waist in a few quick loops, tying it off at his hip.

Lark’s sister laughed. “I see you haven’t lost your flair for dressing people.”

“Bella,” Lark said, “we have to rally everyone. Every family, every elemental has to be at this battle, or we don’t stand a chance. They were the only supernaturals not affected by the pox.”

Bella took a deep breath and nodded. “You know I stand with you, Lark. No matter how bad it gets, or what we must face.”

Lark snapped her fingers in the air. “Time to go.” She jogged up the stairs and we all followed. I brought up the rear with Jonathan in front of me. As I passed Bella, she touched my arm and I paused.