A powerful force impacted Ruadan from behind—once, twice. My gaze flicked over his shoulder, and my heart sputtered. The incubi really were masters of shadow-leaping, and one of them was looming over Ruadan right now, leathery wings spread. His form had shifted, and talons now sprouted with his hands should be.

When Ruadan turned to face him, I caught a glimpse of the deep gashes carved into his shoulder.

“Eight fallen friends,” hissed the incubus. “The work of the spell-slayers. You’re one of us. Are you so disloyal to your kind?”

Ruadan drew his sword. In a blur of motion, he carved it through the incubus’s shoulder, severing his body from collarbone to waist.

That’s a hell of a sword.

But after the blow, Ruadan’s body slumped. The wound gaped in his back, blood pouring out at an alarming rate.

Ruadan whirled, and his fae ears twitched. He sniffed the air. The scent of incubi hung heavily around us. Depending on how many we’d left alive, we could be just a few minutes from death.

Dizzying shadow and lust magic curled around my ribs, making my knees weak, and I slumped to the floor. Neither Ruadan or I were in great fighting form, now.

With a grunt, Ruadan scooped me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled open one of the doors, rushing me inside.

It wasn’t even a full room—little more than a narrow booth. Thin chinks of light streamed inside flecking a wooden bench with the golden candlelight from outside. Ruadan sat, cradling me in his arms.

Despite the lust blazing from my body, the incubi probably had no idea how to pinpoint where I was, considering the entire joint was full of naked females writhing in ecstasy.

Ruadan frowned, lifting the hem of my shirt a little, and the brush of his fingertips sent a rush of hot tingles. It took me a moment to realize he was looking for the place where I’d been stabbed. Blood streamed from my wound, but it was a thin puncture, and it apparently hadn’t pierced anything crucial. His forehead wrinkled.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I whispered, trying to fight my body’s shuddering. “How does someone get stabbed with a reaping dagger and survive?”

His eyes met mine, and he nodded once.

“I have no idea.” Ruadan’s powerful energy rushed over my bare legs. “And I’m a little distracted right now.”

He traced his fingertips over the wound, and his magic curled around it. Shadowy tendrils sank into my flesh, and I stared as the wound began healing over right before my eyes. The magic curled over my abdomen, smoothing my skin.

He met my gaze expectantly.

Right now, I felt acutely aware of every point of contact between our bodies, of his fingers on my upper thigh, of how close my mouth was to his neck. His primal magic charged the air. I could imagine him slipping his hands into my knickers, cupping between my legs while I writhed against him. I realized my own hand had crept into the hem of my knickers, and I flushed, yanking it out again.

Ruadan’s posture was rigid, the unflinching gaze of a true soldier. And yet his eyes held that animal darkness.

I leaned in closer to Ruadan, whispering in his ear. “Is the plan to wait it out until the incubi are gone from this corridor?” I felt compelled to give his ear a nip, and his body tensed.

He nodded, still staring straight ahead.

It was a stupid plan. Incubi like Ruadan healed through sexual contact. I could be healing him right now. His body instinctively knew that, and he was practically glowing with pale, violet magic, already feeding off my desire. Even as he stared straight ahead, his arms tightened around me. One fingertip found its way to the hollow of my hip, stroking in lazy circles.

Then, he met my gaze, and the intensity of his dark eyes took me apart. Those slow, lazy circles on my hip made my breath hitch.

In his arms, breathing in the scent of his magic, a deep ache built within me—a wild, unfulfilled need, so powerful I wanted to beg him to ease it.

His attention was completely locked on me as he teased my hipbone, stirring my lust. A slow, pleasurable torture that left me panting. More.

I hooked my leg over him, sliding over his body so that I straddled him, and he stared into my eyes. Just minutes ago, I’d been freezing to death. Now, I felt as if warm honey were pooling in my body.

Seeming to lose control of himself, he snarled and clenched hard on my waist with one hand. His other slid up my back, the intense pressure making my spine arch against his palm. When his hand reached the shoulder of my silk shirt, he pulled it down, exposing my peaked breast. He leaned in to kiss me, his tongue flicking against mine. As his thumb brushed over my nipple, I moved my hips over him. Our kiss intensified, and I lost all sense of time and place.

Then, with a swift and rough movement, he lifted me up, pressing me hard against the wooden wall. My bare legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He pinned me to the wall, his gaze penetrating me.

I raked my fingernails down his back, wild animal need overtaking me. I couldn’t remember how words worked anymore.

Already, I’d fed him more than enough lust to heal. But I wasn’t done. I needed him to soothe my own ache. An electrical current was passing between us, and I was drawing strength from it, filling the empty void of the shadow magic. He leaned in, kissing me hungrily. He crushed his mouth against mine with all the wild desperation of a last kiss.

I groaned into his mouth, threading my fingers into his hair.

His hand slipped into my knickers. I tilted back my head, writhing against him, moaning louder.

Then, he clamped a hand over my mouth, and I caught my breath. My mind snapped back into place.

Right. The incubi. I was getting too loud.

He pulled his hand from my mouth, then gave one last, heated kiss to my neck. But his muscles had tensed completely as he remembered the threat outside.

Slowly, his eyes shifted back to violet.

He lowered me to the ground and put a finger over his lips. My body slid against his, unfulfilled need ripping my mind apart. But even through my fog of desire I could understand that perhaps, in the middle of a battle with incubi, we had more important things to do than banging in a closet. Like, surviving.

Ruadan pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and began writing.

Can you walk?

I could. In fact, Ruadan had filled me with so much of his magic that I felt ready to tear into a whole horde of incubi.

I pulled him close to whisper, “I just need my weapon back.”

He pushed the door open an inch, peering out. Then, he grabbed me by the hand, and we slipped into the dark corridor. I snatched my dagger from the floor where I’d dropped it.

Shadows lashed the air around Ruadan, billowing until they ensconced us in darkness. His magic would help disguise us as we crept out of the nightclub.

At the end of the corridor, Ruadan pushed through an oak door into a dark stairwell, and we crept down the creaking stairs.

When we reached the bottom floor, the electrical smell of the incubi hit me like a wave. We’d emerged into a smoky room, one filled with glowing violet lights, ornate rugs, and silky pillows. It wasn’t empty, but it seemed to be mostly naked women, who didn’t notice us. They were too busy tending to themselves.

At least—until a ginger woman with extremely perky breasts pointed at Ruadan, a smile curling her lips. “This one is different. This one looks like a god. I want him.”

An inexplicable sense of possessiveness snapped through me, and I nearly punched her. But Ruadan gripped my hand harder, pulling me toward the door.

Just before we reached it, a hissing noise turned my head. From behind, six incubi were closing in on us, brandishing swords and talons.

I needed to get one of their swords to even out the odds.

Already, Ruadan’s sword was clashing with an incubus’s. I locked my sights on one of the incubi—a blond demon closest to me—and hurled the blood-soaked reaping dagger. It landed in his chest. When he collapsed, I darted, snatching his sword from his limp hand.

I whirled, and my new sword clashed against a demon’s.

Ruadan’s magic filled me, imbuing me with strength. Now, I moved like a night wind: fast, silent, and cold. Ruadan cut his sword through another incubus, slicing him at the waist.

Two down, four to go.

I fought desperately, whirling and ducking as I parried the attacks of the incubi around me. Ruadan hacked through another demon. I grunted, just barely managing to fend them off as the fight wore on.

As I fought, blocking blow after blow, Ruadan’s magic began to wear off. The reaping dagger hadn’t sent me to hell, and yet I could feel the shadow hell living within me, blooming like a disease. My veins were icing over. I swung more wildly, just barely catching an incubus in the side.

From behind, pain sliced through my arm as an incubus ripped into it. Another lash of his talons ripped through my shoulder, tearing my flesh.

Ruadan pivoted, slicing his sword in a sharp arc through the incubus’s neck. He picked up speed, a whirl of motion now.

I staggered back as iciness ripped through my bones. Shivering wildly, I collapsed onto the rug. Pain splintered my torso.

I hated being weak, but I couldn’t fight the rising void within me. At least I wasn’t in hell.

Yet.

I stared at Ruadan—a tornado of steel and dark magic, cutting into the incubi.

Glaciers were moving within my blood, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Arctic darkness enveloped me.