Page 63 of Lucifer's Mirror

“Here, you need liquids.” Zayne hands me a bottle of water, and I take a big swallow, then another, trying to wash the taste of battle from my mouth. He leaves me alone, and I just sit in an almost zombie state until the acute pain fades to a dull ache and I begin to think I might live after all.

We were so close to dying.

Again.

I peer at the crumpled T-shirt balled in my fists and then struggle into it with a sigh. It’s disgusting—it’s totally soaked in blood—but I don’t have many options. Then I slide to the ground, lean my back against the boulder, and close my eyes. I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about Khaosti still fighting. And the others, of course. But mostly Khaosti.

The sun is high overhead when Zayne taps me lightly on the shoulder. “Khaosti’s back,” he says. “I thought you’d want to know.”

God, he’s being so nice. It’s seriously scary. “I’m not going to die,” I mutter.

A brief smile flashes across his face. “Good.”

I peer past him to where the big black wolf is padding toward us across the sand. I search him for injuries. There’s blood all around his face, but I don’t think it’s his. The tension I’ve been holding inside me unlocks, and I have to blink away a tear. Quickly. God forbid anyone sees me cry.

He’s alive. I want to jump up and run to him. It’s probably just as well that I don’t have the strength—I’d hate for Khaosti to survive the battle and then die of shock. All the same, I can’t hold back a sappy smile as he halts in front of us. Exhaustion is evident in every line of his body. He stares at me with those amber eyes, and I see the man beyond the wolf. I sense that familiar hum of magic in the air, and suddenly, Khaosti is back.

I hold out the water bottle to him, and he takes it, our fingers brushing. He swallows, and I watch the movement of his throat, entranced that he’s here and alive. Just for a little while, I can forget that he hates me, and that I don’t trust him. He moves closer, then sinks to the ground beside me and leans back against my boulder with a sigh.

“Are the others okay?” I ask.

He raises his brow. “They’re fine. Just organizing the surviving slaves, making sure they have enough food to last them until they get to Zandar Aurion.”

I hadn’t thought about what would happen to them once they were free. "Do they know the way?"

"Once we get you to safety, Therion will return and guide them to the city. He'll catch up with them easily on Horseback."

“They’re not going home?” Wherever home was.

He shrugs. “Maybe. Eventually. I doubt there’s anything of their home left.” He hands the water back, and I take a sip. “I hear you joined us,” he says.

My turn to shrug. “We couldn’t let you have all the fun.”

“You did good.”

Wow!Did Khaosti just pay me a compliment?

“We needed the slaves to turn the tide,” he says. “But we couldn’t reach them.”

“Glad to be of help.” I wonder if the girl who helped us free the slaves survived. I hope so—she saved my life. We’re silent after that. But it’s a peaceful silence. Zayne comes over and offers Khaosti some bread and cheese. More wow. I wonder how long this will last. Probably not long. He gives me some as well, then sits down on my other side, and we all munch in silence.

Maybe everything will be all right after all.

Chapter 30

Walking Wounded

I’mnotsurehowmuch later it is when Therion and Thanouq return. Thanouq swoops down, still in his griffin form, then lands lightly, turning to look back the way he came. Therion appears in the heat haze, riding slowly toward us. He’s not alone. There’s someone riding pillion behind him—a girl, her arms wrapped around his waist. The girl with black hair.

Thanouq transforms and walks toward us, a slight smile on his face.

“Are they okay?” I ask. “The slaves, I mean.”

“Those that survived,” he replies. “And that was most of them. We did good work today.”

I was expecting him to blast us for disobeying orders, but maybe he’s just happy to be alive and successful. Or maybe I look too pathetic to be blasted right now and he’s saving it for later. Whatever. I’m grateful. I turn my attention to the girl. As I watch, she slides off the horse and stands with her arms wrapped around her waist.

“Who is she?” Khaosti asks.

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