like, "Damnit, I wanted to tell Conlan and Ven a few things before I died—"
But the sound of Ven's heart pounding drowned out the rest of the words.
2,1, 0.
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The blinding flash of the explosion nearly fried Ven's retinas, and he could feel the floor shake and the walls rattle with the force of an earthquake. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the shield, which still glowed over and around the heat and light, and had somehow—impossibly—contained the explosion.
Ven watched, open-mouthed, as chunks of shrapnel slammed off the inside of Erin's magical barrier and clattered harmlessly to the floor. He tore his gaze away from the sight and stared at Erin, who stood shaking, her pale face drained and gray, her hands still out. As he reached for her, she let her hands fall to her sides.
"A little bit harder than I'd expected," she whispered, and then she collapsed into his arms. He scooped her up and stood there holding her, both of them trembling, while he swore viciously in Atlantean.
"What in the nine hells was that?" Alexios said, crouching down to stare at the wreckage of the bomb and the giant hole in Ven's floor.
"I didn't know witches could do that," Denal said, eyes wide.
"She's stronger than any witch I've ever seen," Justice mused. Then he looked up at Ven and Erin. "And Caligula turned her sister. So now we have a powerful witch-turned-bloodsucker on the side of the bad guys. I'm pretty sure we're fucked."
Erin woke up belted into the passenger seat of a speeding vehicle. The rebound headache dug viciously at her brain; using magic always came with a price. Especially since she'd lost control for those final three seconds and called to the Wilding. She pushed the memory into a small, locked chamber in her mind and decided to worry about it later. She was still alive, Ven was still alive; the rest could come later.
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was a carnival barker from hell, always calling out his lures to the unsuspecting witch.
Play now, you can win, don't worry about the cost, the sky's the limit, lovely lady!
But winners must be balanced with losers, and magic always came with a price. The universe of power was a zero-sum game. She had little doubt that a migraine was lurking at the base of her brain, waiting for her to move a fraction of an inch. She chanced it anyway, and turned her head slightly to see who was driving like a bat out of hell.
"Ven," she whispered. "We made it?"
A muscle clenched in his jaw. "Yeah, we made it. Although you risked your life in the fucking process."
The controlled ferocity in his voice startled her and the spikes pounding in her skull started dancing a killer jig. "Profanity is the last recourse of the uneducated," she finally replied.
He barked out a laugh. "That's it? That's all you've got? You risked your life to throw a magical shield over a bomb—and you're jabbing at me for swearing?"
He had a point. She looked out her window at the interstate speeding by. Sunday morning was about the only time anybody could speed on I-5. "Why north?" she asked him.
"Somebody mad, bad, and deadly found us. We had to get out of there before they dropped a fu—, a freaking nuke on us. I want to take you to Atlantis, but the portal can be… difficult. We're heading to another safe house so you can rest before we make the attempt."
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That he'd try to curb his profanity at a time like this made her smile. That he'd done it for her made her cautious. "I'm sorry you were concerned for me, Ven. But I've always been the most adept in my entire coven at shielding; I once threw a