It was perhaps the first time she’d ever surprised Stasio. He jumped when the door swung open, spinning around to glare at Linara, wide-eyed.

“You didn’t see me coming, did you?” she asked, keeping her voice calm.

He looked into her eyes, and then at the sword she carried. Pax’s sword.

His surprise was short-lived. “I told you what would happen if you dared to disobey me.” He brandished a plain but deadly looking dagger and danced quickly to Sophie’s side. In an instant, the blade was at her throat, but he did not draw blood.

Perhaps he realized that a living Sophie was all the leverage he had.

“I knew you would come,” Sophie said in a low, calm voice.

“Mother, please…” Linara began.

“When you were a child, an infant even, I dreamed of this moment.”

Linara kept her eyes on Stasio. “And how does it end?”

Sophie knit her eyebrows together. “I’m afraid I never saw that clearly. There’s too much still to be decided.” She smiled. “But not your heart, daughter. Your heart is strong and good. That was decided long ago.”

Stasio was not moved by the words. “A human heart will be easier to destroy.”

Sophie remained calm. “You are wrong, wizard. There is nothing stronger than the human heart.”

Something about the tone of her voice disturbed Stasio. Linara could see it. He responded with a bitter, “You do not know what your daughter has done, witch. She’s a killer. A demon. And though she might not yet accept it, she is mine. I will have her at my side, or I will see her dead.”

His grip on the knife changed. Blood bloomed there, on Sophie’s fine, pale throat.

And the sun rose.

* * *

They swooped into the village, startling the soldiers who had been guarding the perimeter. As if they could keep a dragon at bay. Val held Kitty high. The grip glowed so brightly it should have burned her palm, but it did not.

Pax let loose his fire, striking down the soldiers, one and then another. And another.

More soldiers — male and female — poured from the houses and businesses of the village, drawn by the screams of their compatriots. There were a lot of them, more than Val had expected there would be. How much fire did Pax possess? Was it an endlessly available ability, or would it…

Ah, all she had to do was tap into the power of three, and she knew. The fire was not endless. He had never before faced such a large number of opponents, but he knew he did not have enough fire to kill them all.

His attention was diverted, and Val’s eyes were drawn to that which had alarmed him. Linara stepped from a building near the center of the village, a man wearing a black robe behind her. They were both armed, she with a sword, he with a knife that seemed to be wrapped in a dark fog. There was magic in that dagger, and it was not of the good sort.

Stasio.

Val had not heard the name, but Pax knew it, and therefore so did she. He was a bad man, a dark wizard, the self-appointed leader of these misguided and evil and lost soldiers who made up the army he led.

Goodness, it was as if she could feel the lift in Linara’s heart as she watched them fly around and drop again, as if she were washed in the half-demon’s hope and love.

Ewww. Let’s stick to the battle, shall we?

Pax dropped to let loose his fire again, as Stasio and Linara battled in the midst of it all.

* * *

Linara stepped back and then back again. Stasio matched her step for step. Her mother was wounded but would live, as long as Stasio died. As long as she won this battle. She could not afford to lose.

Pax and Val could take care of the soldiers, but Stasio was hers. She had to end him, and now.

In close quarters, Pax’s sword was all but useless. Every time Linara tried to retreat and lift the sword, Stasio moved with her. He knew, as she did, that with a bit of distance and one lucky swing, he’d be dead.

Her only chance was to do battle with him outside this small room. She turned and ran through the door. He followed, leaving his prisoner to pursue what he most wanted. Her. Linara spun to face him, and in spite of herself, she smiled. One way or another, this ended today.

He moved quickly, grabbing Linara’s arm before she could swing the sword, spinning her about and pushing her against the wall of the building where her wounded mother remained prisoner. Not for long.

With a strong hand and a bit of magic, he stripped the sword away. It was ripped from her hand and sent flying, landing in the dirt and skidding away an incredible distance.

Sophie had said Linara’s heart had been decided long ago, but Linara was not so sure. When she healed, when she helped, the white light grew. When she used her demon’s powers to hurt, the darkness took hold. Did that make her heart stronger or weaker? Was a human heart, as her mother said, incredibly strong?

A stream of white hot dragonfire to her right took out five soldiers who’d been advancing, perhaps to assist their leader. Linara wanted to look at Pax, to thank him, but she didn’t dare.

Stasio needed no help. He held the knife against her breast, there above her heart. She’d be hard to kill, but death could come for her. That dark dagger could easily destroy her heart, whether that heart was filled with darkness or light.

“I had so hoped for more from you,” Stasio said. He sounded like a disappointed father, a stern teacher whose student had failed an assignment.

Linara lifted her face and looked him in the eye. The morning sun continued to rise, and it sent a shaft across his face. By the light of day he looked…ordinary. Plain. A man, and nothing more.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

“I am no fool…”

“You are nothing but a fool. A fool possessed of a bit of magic. An ambitious fool, to be sure, but still…”

“If I destroy your heart with this blade, you will die.”

“I know.”

His lips thinned and tightened. His eyes…his eyes were dead, as they always had been. “So why do you taunt me?”

Because in the end, her death would mean something. But only if she could take him with her. “What makes you think you are like ordinary men? No other man can withstand the kiss of a Ksana demon, but you…you are stronger than other men, are you not? I kissed Pax, and he lives.”

“He’s a dragon.”

“You’re a wizard.” And he had always wanted her. He’d wanted to touch her, to have her. Was she his weakness? Could she use that weakness against him?

His knife shifted as she forced herself up. It sliced into her flesh, just barely into her heart. The intense pain surprised her, but she held on. She possessed an undeniable strength, as well as a determination to see this done. Her chin came up, her head tilted, and she clasped her mouth to his.

Once she had him, he could not let go. He tried; she felt the struggle within him, the desire to live. His essence flowed into her, it fed her. Was it enough? Could she survive? She was willing to die, but like Stasio, she wanted to live.

With a burst of brute force, a final effort to save himself, he buried the blade even deeper in her heart. She almost fell back, away from him, but she held on tight. He was hers, now. Now and forever.

He released the knife, but it stayed within her, within her heart. It hurt; it burned; it sucked the life from her the way she sucked the life from him. He fell into her and the blade slipped deeper. Who would die first? Who would win this battle of dark magic?

Linara felt the blood dripping down her torso. It was warm, like human blood. Her good heart was destroyed, or nearly so. She did not have much time left. Enough? Was it enough?

Stasio tried to scream, but he could not. And then he was gone, dust in the wind, a pile of bones and robes that stunk of darkness and sweat and desperation. Linara’s legs went out from under her, and she dropped to the ground, her back to the wall, her vision going. Before her, soldiers continued to come. So many, more than she had imagined would be here on this morning.

Pax landed in the center of the village. His weight made the ground shake. There was no more fire, but he swung his tail and took out six soldiers at once, as an arrow found its mark in his neck. He howled, but not in pain.

He howled for her.

Stasio was dead, but they were going to lose the battle. She’d been so sure they would win. They were destined to win. And really, the war was over. Without Stasio the rebel troops wouldn’t hold together. Without his protection, the Isen demon’s daughters would be weakened and separated. But right now, in this village, there were too many soldiers.

Linara expected to die, then and there, but she did not. Her vision began to return, if not her strength. More arrows aimed at the dragon found their mark; a brave soldier moved in and swung his sword at Pax’s throat. He was ended when Val jumped from her perch and took his head with Kitty.

She was glad Pax had Val and Kitty. They would all survive, somehow. They had to.

Linara tried to stand, but she could not. She’d lost too much blood.

She reached out to touch Pax’s mind with her own. I love you. I never expected to love anyone, but I love you.

The dragon looked at her with eyes on fire. The words she initially heard from him were those of a dragon, harsh and foreign but filled with emotion. With a great effort on his part, he spoke to her in words she could understand. Tell me again when this battle is over.

They were losing this fight. In spite of her earlier confidence for Pax and Val, she suspected they would all soon be dead. They were outnumbered. They had struck too soon.

Now Val was surrounded, a little girl wielding a gleaming sword outnumbered by leering, evil men who would not think twice about cutting her down. So much for prophecy! So much for winning! They had sacrificed everything…

The soldiers came out of nowhere, with battle cries and weapons raised. At first, Linara thought they were reinforcements for Stasio’s men, that they were even more outnumbered.

She was wrong.

Hope made her damaged heart beat. She might have smiled, if she’d been able. She saw it so clearly. Pax and Val had not attacked too soon; they had arrived just in time.

The newly arrived army was made up entirely of descendants of the Fyne witches. Old and young, most touched with magic but some not, they came from all directions. There were witches and wizards who wielded their swords and their magic. Anwyn men and women, shifters who were fearsome opponents in any battle. A creature much like Pax flew in. The Firebird.

They were joined by skilled soldiers from the Circle of Bacwyr, men who were all but impossible to defeat sword to sword.

Her family. Her brothers and sisters and cousins. Her aunts and uncles.

A man left the battle and ran toward her.

Her father.

Kane Varden dropped down, studying her wound with worry etched on his still-handsome face. “Juliet is close behind us. She will heal you.”

She didn’t think that was possible, not now, but she smiled weakly.

Her father’s face paled a little. “Your mother?”

“Alive and well.” If Sophie’s sisters were nearby, the small injury Stasio had inflicted upon the youngest Fyne witch would be healed with a touch and a few words. Linara didn’t think her own injury would be healed so easily, if at all.

She crooked her head to indicate the door at her side. “Mama’s tied up in there. Go to her.” Before he could stand, Linara reached out and snagged his wrist, holding on as tightly as she could. “I love you, Papa.”

He looked puzzled. She’d never been one for a declaration of any kind. “Love you, too, sweetie.” He patted her hand. “You’ll be fine.”

Linara closed her eyes and drifted away. Fine? She didn’t think so.