Darkness surrounded Becca, thick and consuming, but still the voices howled in her head, Nero’s strongest of all. He was going to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. He—

She jerked, and her back hit something hard as heat enveloped her. Except her back couldn’t have hit something. She was already lying on the ground. Outside. In the cold.

No. Not outside. There was a ceiling with a light fixture above her. Her thoughts stuttered, her mind and body filled with a searing agony, while the voices howled.

Nero screamed and collapsed unconscious on top of her. Someone yelled.

She had to protect them. Get them out of wherever the hell they were. She heaved him over and yanked up her stolen gun. Raven, Diablo, and another man — God, he was huge and looked like a Viking, but was dressed in a well-tailored suit — sat around the table in the kitchenette in Nero’s transition suites.

Diablo stood and his chair clattered over. “What the hell?”

“Oh, my God.” Raven scrambled toward them. “What happened?”

“We—” Shot. I was shot. But— Becca could breathe, when moments before she couldn’t. The pain in her chest wasn’t the agonizing fire of before, either.

Nero gasped and blood pooled beneath him and around her knees.

“How—?” It didn’t make sense. But he’d been shot. “He said he could heal it. He said—” She ripped open his coat. Blood soaked his dress shirt. She ripped that, too, revealing a gaping wound over his left pec. “Why isn’t he healing?”

“He should be. He shouldn’t be unconscious.” Raven grabbed a fistful of napkins from the table and pressed them against Nero’s chest. Just like how Nero had applied pressure on Becca’s chest.

Her thoughts snapped, sending shards of agony slicing into her head.

She’d been shot.

In the chest. Above the heart.

Her pulse beat faster, and the voices in her head roared louder.

“Diablo? Why isn’t he healing?” Raven asked.

“I don’t know.” Diablo vanished with a whoosh. A fraction of a second later with another whoosh, he reappeared in the hall and pulled a medical kit and an armful of towels from the cabinet.

Becca couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t focus her thoughts.

Right above the heart.

She clawed at her hoodie. There was blood on her clothes. There was a hole. There was—

“I was shot,” she gasped.

“She’s human,” Raven said.

“Let me look,” the big blond guy said. He knelt beside her, but she hadn’t seen him move. Had he gated liked Diablo? She hadn’t felt the air gust. No, time had jumped. Darkness flashed in her head. More thoughts snapped into shards and more voices clamored to be heard.

Another whoosh and Diablo was back, kneeling beside Raven. “He’s barely breathing. He should have healed enough to be conscious.”

“But I was shot.”

The blond guy grabbed her hands and drew her focus. Grey. His name was Grey, but she had no idea how she knew that.

“Where?” he asked.

“Above the heart.”

His gaze dipped to the hole and the blood soaking the front of her hoodie. She’s a sorcerer?

“Nero said I wasn’t.” No, that wasn’t right. “He thought that? I can’t—” God, it was so hard to think.

“What happened?” Grey’s grip tightened and his eyes narrowed. He was dangerous. A dragon. A monster… not a monster… not—

“I—”

“Tell me.” Tell me. Now.

“Grey.” Raven replaced the napkins against Nero’s chest with a towel. “Stop.”

A tremor shook Becca and the voices turned to hisses. Something is wrong. I don’t know how to save him. I can’t lose him. I have to know what happened. She’s done something to him. She’s killed him. She—

“I didn’t. He said he could heal. He was fine. Then I was shot, and he started screaming about losing another one.” She rammed her foot into Grey’s side, wrenched free from his grip, and scrambled to her feet.

Another what? Raven asked. “Lose another mage?”

“I don’t know.” It hurt to think.

Grey stood, and Becca’s pulse beat faster. The pulse she wasn’t supposed to have.

“I won’t let you take me back. I’m not going back.” The gun lay a few feet away.

“You’re not going back,” Raven said.

“Lose another what?” Grey tensed, his muscle bunching and straining against his dress shirt.

More tremors clawed through her and agony sliced in her skull. It hurt to think. Everything hurt. Her chest burned and everything within her was screaming. “He’s supposed to be healing.”

“Lose another what?” Grey asked again.

“An inamorata,” Diablo said. He’s God damned inamorated with a soul-sick human.

“A what?” Raven’s gaze leapt to him. Holy Mother.

An inamorata? “He’s taken on her injuries,” Grey said.

“You can do that if you’re inamorated?” Raven jerked her chin at Diablo. “Help me roll him. I want to check his back.”

Another tremor shook Becca and she hugged herself. Somehow he’d taken it from her. The hole in her chest. Certain death. God, he was going to die, and it was her fault.

“How the hell can a soul bond transfer an injury?” Diablo growled as he helped Raven roll Nero on his side.

“As far as I know, it’s only happened once, and that was before the Scourge.” Grey shifted closer to Becca.

She jerked back. “I didn’t know. He shouldn’t have. I—” The shakes increased, making her teeth chatter. Magic. He’d saved her with magic. Impossible magic. And now she was going to be the reason someone else died.

“If he’s inamorated and you were shot, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself.” Raven shoved Nero’s jacket off his shoulders to expose his back. He would have died for her. I would have lost him. Mother, please. Why hasn’t he healed this?

“I didn’t do this. I didn’t make him—” He didn’t know her, but he’d die for her? That didn’t make any sense. Magic didn’t make sense. But the monsters had possessed magic.

Fucking soul bond. Something like this was bound to happen sooner rather than later. The thought sliced through her, but she couldn’t tell who thought it.

“Will he heal this?” Raven asked. She grabbed a pair of scissors from the first aid kit and cut open the back of Nero’s shirt.

“He will,” Grey said. “But because it’s a magical transfer, it’ll be slower than normal.”

“As slow as you?” Diablo asked. We have to keep her here. Ensure Nero’s safety.

“Does anyone heal as slowly as I do?” Grey rolled his eyes. “His soul magic is working double time, first to keep the wound from reforming in her and then to heal the injury.”

“I think the bleeding might be slowing down.” Raven ripped open a sterile wipe and dabbed at Nero’s back.

“He’ll be okay?” Please, he had to be okay. Becca had no idea what she’d do if he wasn’t.

He won’t be fucking okay. He’s inamorated, Diablo growled.

“I don’t know what that means!” More pain sliced through Becca’s head and her legs buckled. Grey grabbed for her, but she wrenched out of reach. “He shouldn’t have saved me. I endanger everything.” It was like Afghanistan all over again. The Taliban had learned she’d been meeting with the village elders. She’d put all those people in danger, killed all those people in the market and all those children in the school tent, and had murdered Scott and Johnson and paralyzed Keller. All by taking her unit back to that village. Nero had children in his house, people he had to protect. She was broken and hunted. She’d made him go with her to find Werner, and it had been another ambush.

The muscles in her chest and arms seized and stole her breath. Nero gasped, and his thoughts blasted into a scream of pain and desperation.

Her knees gave out, and she didn’t have the strength to catch her balance. She fell to her hands and knees. His agony overwhelmed her and his thoughts howled, devouring all the other voices. She had to live. She was everything. He couldn’t lose another. Please, Mother, not another.

“I didn’t ask you to save me,” she screamed at him. “You should have let me die.” Then she wouldn’t have to fight the voices and the memories and the terror. Her throat tightened. This wasn’t real. It was a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening.

“Ah, fuck, she’s losing it.” Diablo vanished with the whoosh.

Grey grabbed her shoulders. She tried to jerk away, but he held tight. “I won’t let you take me again. I won’t. You can’t.” She clawed at his hands. “Stay out of my head. It’s my body. My soul.”

Grey heaved her around, planting her back against his chest, and wrapped her in a bear hug. Holy Mother, she’s soul sick. “Raven, what do we do?”

Air gusted, and Diablo appeared beside her and jammed a needle in her shoulder. “Sedate her.”

“No. I won’t go back. I won’t—” Weight rushed through her limbs.

Another pinch in her shoulder.

“A double dose?” Grey asked, his voice rumbling into her back, making the drug’s weight billow to her extremities.

“Trust me,” Diablo said.

Becca dragged her gaze to Nero. He groaned, opened one eye, and stared at her as if he instantly knew where she was.

It’ll be all right, he thought. I’ve got you. You’ll be okay.

But she could feel the insanity threatening to overwhelm her. He’d saved her with magic. Impossible magic. Those monsters in the cave had been real. Stanbury and her facility were real. It hurt to think about it. It would have been easier if it was just a nightmare and she could wake up. Please. She just wanted to wake up… or never wake up. Then he wouldn’t be in danger, and his kids would be safe.

“You shouldn’t have saved me. You don’t know me.” I endanger everything. I don’t deserve to be saved.

Yes, you do.

Diablo turned to Nero and slid a third syringe into his shoulder.

Just take a breath. You can handle this.

I can’t. God. I can’t.

Yes, Nero said, his thought soft and sure as unconsciousness started to flood through her. Just breathe.