Page 29 of Royal Ransom

“No,” she drawled. “That was the chocolate pudding wrestling contest I hit up before I came to rescue you.”

“Damn. Did you take pictures?”

Tally let out a slightly hysterical laugh as she deftly undid the restraint latches that had been holding me in place. She started at my ankles, briefly rubbing the red lines on them once she freed them. The relief from the stinging pain was instant, allowing me to let out a soft sigh of gratitude.

She moved on to my thighs, swiftly undoing the restraints with a few flicks of her wrists. When she got to my waist, she paused at the open wound from Cirro’s knife.

“Oh God, Mav. How deep is it?”

I shrugged. “Not sure.”

Now that the threat was snoring on the ground, my body finally decided it could revoke access to my clarity-bestowing adrenaline. The world swam alarmingly. I heard Tally shout something at me but I couldn’t make out the words.

Unconsciousness seized me by the skull and slammed me face-first into unending blackness.

Chapter Eighteen

Taliyah

I had to lunge to keep Maverick’s head from bouncing off the frost-coated floor.

One moment he’d been conscious and clearly in pain, and the next his face had gone slack, what little color he had draining away as he slumped forward. His limp body tipped sideways, trying to flop onto the bloody floor before I could reach him. I bruised my elbows on the table, but I managed to catch him before he could hit the ground.

I heaved, managing to arrange his dead weight on my shoulder when I was sure he wasn’t getting up. His eyelids were moving rapidly, and he kept gasping in short, shallow breaths. Warmth was pulsing steadily from the cut on his stomach, searingly warm in the chilly confines of the classroom. The Winter Sidhe who’d kidnapped him had turned the place into a deep freeze. On the one hand, that was good. It kept Mav’s blood moving slowly through his veins. He couldn’t lose a liter a minute in these conditions. On the other hand, cold was a swift killer. I couldn’t even form a makeshift bandage over the wounds with a patch of winter ice without introducing more winter magic into his wounds.

Panic kept trying to claw its way into my thoughts. I calmly and mercilessly strangled each useless excuse my brain offered to keep me rooted in place. I’d never know if the sense of calm, ruthless practicality came from me or from Olwen. Was it the cop in me or the winter queen?

Both,Olwen whispered, voice whistling between my ears like a winter wind. Maverick shuddered in my arms, one tight, reflexive movement that coaxed a moan of protest from his throat. I couldn’t cast winter at our enemy without hurting him more. Shit.

“Basil!” I shouted. I didn’t care if we were overheard. He was the only one with a prayer of stopping the bleeding. Saving the winter court would feel like a hollow victory if I lost Mav in the process. I didn’t care if I outed myself or lost this avenue of approach. Mav mattered more.

“I’m a bit busy, love!” Basil called back. He sounded breathless, but amused, as though holding off the advance of our furry companion was the most fun he’d had in years.

For all I knew, it was. Some people got their kicks in stranger places than others.

“I’m not your love!” I snapped back.

“An expression, not a declaration of intent, I assure you,” he called back over his shoulder. He sounded even more winded than before. “I’m trying to block the yeti’s entry, Chief Morgan. What seems to be the problem on your end?”

Everything. Everything was wrong. The whole point of sneaking in under Janara’s nose was to get the drop on her. Now that she knew I was here, she’d send someone to comb the place over. With any luck, they’d assume the summer portal was the culprit, but there was no telling how quickly the news would get back to Janara. Just leaving survivors would mean word would reach her, eventually.

I paused mid-motion, horrified with myself for even acknowledging the thought. It was one thing to know I’d defend myself against something trying to kill me. Another to think of doing it in cold blood. The winter Sidhe on the floor had to be dealt with—that was true. Could I really seize the knife he’d used on Maverick’s guts and use it to slash his throat?

No. Not while he was sleeping. I could kill him on his feet, but doing so while he was knocked out just felt… well, it felt wrong. Dishonorable somehow.

Prison,Olwen thought back.

She fed me the image of what she wanted. A few secondslater, the spell came together in my mind, crystallizing from pure thought until it was tangible enough to touch. I had to set Mav aside briefly, making sure he was comfortable before I stepped out into the hall to join Basil.

The narrow corridor that led to the improvised torture chamber hadn’t been used in years. I could see every cobweb clearly as frost formed on their filaments. It was a labyrinth of gossamer ice, and I had to brush bits of it off my clothes to reach the main corridor we’d been chased down.

Stepping onto the battlefield alongside a serious autumn spell slinger made me feel like a rookie on her first beat again. Basil had adopted a solid stance, putting the wall at his back, pouring power back the way we’d come. Green was absolutely everywhere, with bits of his namesake worming their way through the mortar to perfume the air. It smelled like a horde of zombies had ambushed a pizzeria. A huge, carnivorous plant with red spots and huge, golden teeth took a chunk out of the yeti’s side as we watched.

The sasquatch let out an ear-splitting bellow, staggering away from the dripping plant with a hole the size of a baseball missing from his flank. I could spy something gray and slippery in the gap and had to swallow back the urge to be sick.

“He’s bleeding,” I pressed. “Mav is bleeding. The crazy son of a bitch sliced him open. I don’t think I can touch the wound without making it worse. I need you to do something.”

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” Basil answered and motioned to the Yeti in front of us.

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