Page 47 of The Aether

The magical shock wave sent Trevor to his knees with a cry, and when he gripped her wrists with the intent to shove her away, Damian jumped to his feet. Before he could intervene, the entire incident was over, and Sabrina was patting Trevor’s shoulder.

“Now you know, Mr. Blane,” she said simply, ignoring the fact the man was sweating profusely and looked like she’d taken a sledgehammer to his head.

“I have aspirin in the house,” Damian told him, trying to hold back his black humor and not laugh. He knew very well what an infusion of Sabrina’s knowledge felt like when imparted out of the blue.

“I think if you unleash that kid of yours on your enemies, she can take them out in one fell swoop,” Trevor replied as he flopped down on his back and flung an arm over his eyes. “Christ! That hurt.”

“I’ve been the recipient before, so I know exactly what you’re feeling.” Damian nudged him with the tip of his shoe and held out a hand when he had the Death Dealer’s attention. “It’s time to go back inside. Josie is suffering, and I can feel her pain from here. Which means Morcant can, too, if he’s still close.”

After casting one last glance at Ronan to ensure he’d guard Sabrina with his life, Damian touched Trevor’s shoulder and teleported back to the house.

* * *

Josie was dying.

She felt the coldness taking over as the blood flowed from her wound.

And not a single damned soul intended to save her.

Not the blond-haired angel with the puppy, not her sisters, and certainly not that devil, Damian.

She appealed to the angel. “Please. Help… me.”

“I will,” he assured her. “We all will. For now, take comfort in holding Willow, and think happy thoughts.”

“Like Peter Pan or… some shit?” she ground out between gritted teeth as another excruciating wave hit her abdomen. “Aren’t we a little… old for fairy… tales?”

“Why do people insist on calling me old?” the angel muttered.

“Castor, when I tell you, stop time for everyone but you, Blane, and me,” Damian said from the other side of her, where his hands hovered over her wound. “Josie, I’m going to remove the bullet from your abdomen. For that, I need to put you into a deep sleep.”

She looked at her sisters, who both appeared fretful.

Yeah, she was dying.

“Wait!” She hugged the puppy to her chest and prayed she didn’t hurt it as she fought against the next stabbing pain. “Viv, if I don’t make it—”

The silent tears rolling down her sister’s face lent to her tragic air. “Don’t say that, Josie. You’re going to be fine.”

“But if I don’t—”

The angel placed a finger over her lips, and when she met his ice-blue eyes, her heart stuttered.

“None of that, gorgeous,” he told her. “Happy thoughts, remember? You don’t want to give that fucker Morcant the upper hand, do you?”

Where she found the strength to smile, she’d never know, but she managed to, albeit only slightly. “Never.”

“That’s my girl. I knew you were a fighter the second I saw you.”

Her scoff ended in a groan as the next wave hit.

“Castor, leave off flirting, and let’s get on with this.”

“You’re always determined to spoil my fun, Dethridge,” Castor replied with a wink at Josie. “Hang in there, gorgeous. Only dream pleasant dreams. If you want to fantasize about me, I’ll allow it.”

He was outrageous, and yet Josie appreciated his ridiculous humor. It was the only reason—other than the fact she was dying—that she didn’t roll her eyes at the absurdity of it all.

A kiss before dying would’ve been nice, though.

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