The first thing he saw was Nick, tied to one of the big valves. Light reflected from the rippling water below, and the inflow cascaded through the great pipes with a low roar. The Wraith crouched in front of Nick, knife in hand. Ingram stood on the balcony just in front of the door, already turning as Jamie came inside.

“Put your hands up!” Jamie ordered, training the gun on Ingram.

Rook shot in like a black arrow, making for the Wraith. The dark figure swiped the knife at him, then started up the stairs for Jamie. Rather than wheel back for another pass, Rook dropped to the metal grate beside Nick and shifted into human form.

“Order the Wraith off,” Jamie said, jabbing the gun at Ingram.

“Jamie, look out!” Nick called. “Ingram is a witch.”

Ingram sprang at him, and Jamie glimpsed a hex paper in his hand. Jamie fired; the shot missed, but forced Ingram back.

“Stop him,” Ingram ordered.

The Wraith was still a few stairs below the balcony. He lunged forward, the obsidian blade gleaming, too fast and strong for Jamie to escape. It slammed into his left calf.

“Wrong leg,” Jamie said, and twisted hard.

Surprise loosened the Wraith’s hold, and the knife tore free of his grip. The hilt stuck out to the side, pinning Jamie’s trousers to his wooden leg.

The Wraith didn’t hesitate for more than an instant. He grabbed one of the hexed bones dangling from his costume. It cracked. Before Jamie could scramble out of the way, the Wraith bounded up the last steps and wrapped his arms around Jamie’s chest.

The Wraith’s strength was immense, fueled by the dead familiar whose essence he’d stolen. Jamie’s ribs creaked under the pressure. He fought, kicking and clawing, but the Wraith seemed unmoved, his grip inexorably tightening.

“Let go of my witch!” Nick roared.

The Wraith jolted as Nick’s weight landed on his back, trying to pry him loose from Jamie. For a moment, the three of them balanced precariously at the very top of the stairs.

Then gravity took over, and they tumbled back in a heap, with Nick on the bottom. Jamie fell head over heels, slid across a body or perhaps two, then struck the metal grate near the valve where Nick had been tied. Pain spiked through his body, and he’d lost his revolver during the fall. Instinct shouted at him to move, so he grabbed for the railing to pull himself up. Rook seized one arm and heaved him to his feet, then took on bird form once again.

The Wraith staggered up. Somehow, Nick had already made it to his feet, though the sight of him stabbed Jamie with a mixture of relief and fear. Bruises bloomed on his face, and he moved with a stiffness that spoke of more injuries beneath his clothing.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered. Now Jamie just had to keep him that way.

“You!” Jamie yelled at the Wraith. He bent down and yanked the knife free from his leg. Waving it in front of him, he said, “Surrender, or I’ll gut you the way you gutted Wyatt.”

“My brother was a blasphemer,” the Wraith said.

Wyatt’s letter had spoken of meeting his brother. But Jamie had assumed that was a pretext on the part of the Heirs of Adam. Not that the Wraith actually was Wyatt’s brother.

Shock slowed Jamie’s reactions. The Wraith charged him—only to get a face full of black wings from Rook. When the Wraith stepped back, Nick struck him from behind, driving a fist deep into a kidney.

The Wraith went into the railing near Jamie. Jamie stabbed at him, but the Wraith was too fast. He caught Jamie’s wrist with one hand, using the taloned glove on the other to slash at his abdomen. Jamie twisted away, but still felt a sting as skin parted across his belly.

Nick slammed into the Wraith, smashing him hard into the railing. The Wraith let go of Jamie, but before he could grab the railing, Nick heaved him up—and over.

There came a loud splash as he struck the water below.

Rook shifted back to human form. “That won’t keep him for long—there are stairs leading back up on the other side.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” Jamie said.

“Ingram already ran.” Rook glanced at Nick as they hastened up the stairs as quickly as Jamie was able to hobble. “Are you all right?”

“Right enough.” Nick clasped Rook’s arm. “Thanks for coming for me.”

Rook shrugged awkwardly. “Well, you’re my brother. Even if you are a literal horse’s ass.”

The sunlight outside was almost painfully bright after the shadowed interior of the Gate House. “Who the hell are all these people?” Nick asked.

“Your rescue party,” Rook said. “Except…oh.”

Jamie shaded his eyes, blinking rapidly. The struggle outside had ended, police standing to one side and ferals to the other, staring at each other with unconcealed hostility. In the center was Uncle Hurley, his gun trained on none other than Ingram. The reverend stood very still, his hands raised.

“Jamie,” Hurley called. “Are you all right, lad?”

Jamie’s throat constricted. Hurley had come to save him. Even if that meant changing sides and endangering everything his uncle had worked so hard for.

“Aye,” Jamie said, “but the Wraith—”

Ingram dove at Hurley, slapping the hex paper he’d held concealed in his hand against Hurley’s neck. “Die.”

Hurley dropped his revolver, clutching at his throat. His face purpled; he began to gag and choke.

“Uncle!” Jamie cried.

Ingram bolted. He got no more than three steps before a shot rang out from one of the policemen. The reverend collapsed into the dust, body twitching spasmodically.

Jamie limped to Hurley’s side, but Dominic got there first. He snatched up the hex Ingram had dropped. “A hex altered to be poison,” he said. Dropping it, he pulled out his hexman’s wallet. “Rook!”

Rook crouched by him. “Don’t worry, Jamie. Dominic always carries his hexman’s tools with him. He can make an antidote.”

Dominic’s hands flew over a scrap of paper, even as Rook uncapped various inks and handed him what he needed before he even had to ask. “Cure,” Dominic barked as he slapped the hex onto Hurley’s forehead.

Hurley’s breathing eased, and some of the color returned to his face. “He won’t feel good for a few days, but he’ll live,” Dominic said.

Nick’s hand closed on Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie turned into him, found himself hauled into an embrace. He breathed deep, savoring Nick’s sweat.

“You came for me,” Nick said.

Jamie clung to him. “Of course I did. I love you.”

“I thought you hated me.” Nick’s arms tightened. “I couldn’t have blamed you, after my lies.” He took a shuddering breath. “Just so there’s no more deception between us…you’re my witch.”

“Well, aye. How do you think I found you?” Then the implication of Nick’s words caught up. Jamie drew back, just far enough to look into Nick’s eyes. “Wait. You mean, your witch?”

Nick nodded. “Yes. I lied about that because…because I was afraid the MWP would force me to stay if they knew.”

“I’d never let them do that to you.”

“I know that now. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Nick leaned in and kissed him softly. “I love you, Jamie MacDougal.”

A horrible scream sounded from within the Gate House.

Jamie and Nick broke apart with a start. “What was that?” Jamie asked.

Nick nodded in the direction of Ingram’s body. “He died.” Nick couldn’t bring himself to be even the slightest bit sorry. “That was the bond breaking.”

“Wait. The Wraith was his familiar?” Jamie’s mouth gaped. “That fucking hypocrite!”

“Men like him often are,” Nick said. But an idea had started to congeal in the back of his mind. “If we can subdue Simon—the Wraith—for even a few seconds, we can use a hex to force him into animal shape. Given the sorts of things he said earlier, I have a feeling he hasn’t been anything but human for a long time.”

“Forcing him to change will shock him, the way it did Velma?” Jamie guessed.

Nick grinned, feeling obscurely proud. “I always knew you weren’t just a pretty face, witch.”

“We’ll go in first and try to restrain him,” said Kyle. He’d drawn close enough to overhear; the other ferals had gathered behind him.

Nick would never have imagined a mob of ferals would rally to his defense. Just looking out over the gathering left him with a strange feeling in his belly, part embarrassment and part pride. “You all came to rescue me. At risk to yourselves.”

“Someone needed to save your ass.” Kyle shrugged. “We couldn’t exactly leave it for the witches to do, now could we?”

Nick held out his hand, and Kyle clasped it. “Thanks, Kyle.” He swallowed. “Thanks to all of you. Now, let’s go show this Wraith he can’t just kill ferals and hope to get away with it, eh?”

“Sentimental as ever, I see,” said Rook. “All right, you heard the plan, straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“Maybe you should’ve let the Wraith kill me, so I wouldn’t have to put up with this nonsense,” Nick muttered. But he couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection.

“Love you, too, horse,” Rook said. Then he flashed into crow form and glided through the open doors into the Gate House, the other ferals right behind him.

“Here,” Dominic said, pressing a hex into Jamie’s hand. “This should do it.”

Jamie nodded. “Nick, do I have your permission…?”

“Do it.” He felt the tug behind his breastbone, magic siphoning through the bond, into Jamie, and filling the hex.

When they reached the balcony just inside the Gate House doors, several other ferals had gotten there before them. They’d paused on the stairs, a murmur going through them as they got their first look at the Wraith.

He should have been a bedraggled figure, leaning heavily on the railing, one hand clutching his chest from the pain of the broken bond, his cloak hanging sodden with water around him. But some aura of primal terror yet hung around him, from the bones to the ram’s horns, to the darkness of the concealing mask beneath the hood.

As they entered, he straightened slowly. Though it was impossible to tell for certain, Nick felt the Wraith’s wrathful gaze fix on him.

“You,” the Wraith grated out. “This is all your fault. Now I’ll never enter the Gates of Heaven.” He curled one gloved hand around a hexed bone, and it cracked with a dry snap. “But I’m going to take you all to Hell with me.”

The Wraith exploded into motion. Before the ferals could even react, he was amongst them: heaving them over the railing into the water, slashing claws across vulnerable skin, and knocking them aside with brutal punches. Bones cracked. The cries of pain and anger nearly drowned out the rush of water.

Nick charged. There wasn’t enough room to take on his horse shape, so he readied his fists. “Swarm him!” he yelled. “He can’t fight us all at once, no matter how strong he is!”

Kyle jumped the Wraith from behind, locking his arms around the killer’s neck. A badger sank teeth into one black-clad leg and refused to let go. A bulldog took the badger’s lead, and did the same to the Wraith’s near arm. The hex-woven cloth might be impervious to bullets, but fangs seemed to be another matter altogether.

The Wraith bellowed in fury and pain, dragging them after him as he struggled toward the stairs. He swung his free hand at Nick; Nick ducked, then grasped his wrist. They wrestled for a moment, Nick clinging with both hands, using his whole body to brace against the Wraith’s immense strength. “Jamie, now!”

Jamie slapped the hex down on the arm Nick clung to. “Be bound to your animal form,” he ordered.

The Wraith shrieked as if he’d been stabbed. His entire body convulsed, and Nick hastily released him, as did the other ferals.

It should have been quick. A flash of light or a puff of smoke, and they should have found themselves facing whatever animal form the Wraith possessed.

Instead, he thrashed and fell to his knees, body distorting strangely, even as the hexed bones strung all about his costume began to glow with a terrible red light.

“That…that ain’t supposed to happen,” Jamie said.

The Wraith began to shift, but not into a single animal. His body swelled, the steel stairs groaning under the sudden weight. The horns now sprouted from the head of a ram, eyes wild and tongue lolling from a frothing mouth. A lion’s head pushed out beside it, fighting for space on its shoulders. Legs sprouted where there should be no legs, and eyes blinked from scaled elbows, or the sides of a long crocodile tail. Patches of fur struggled with scales and feathers, and a malformed wing jutted from its back.

Nick retreated, his stomach churning at the wrongness of the abomination in front of him. A dozen eyes swiveled in his direction. Red mouths full of teeth gaped, and with a blast of necrotic breath, the chimera roared.

“Run!” Jamie shouted.

The thing in front of him was unspeakably wrong in every way. Somehow, the hex he’d used must have reacted with the hexed bones the Wraith and Ingram had torn from dying familiars. The stolen power had awoken all at once, coalesced, and turned the Wraith’s body into a mishmash of a dozen different creatures.

The chimera roared again, even as ferals fled past Jamie. Eyes maddened by pain and horror fixed on him, and the chimera lurched forward on mismatched limbs.

“Come on,” Nick said. He grabbed Jamie’s arm, hauling him bodily up the stairs. “On my back, now!”

Jamie didn’t question, only locked his arms around Nick’s shoulders. Nick heaved Jamie onto his back, shifting as he did so, and Jamie found himself sprawled awkwardly over the warhorse’s withers.

The chimera howled behind them, and there came the rending shriek of metal. Nick had fallen straight into a gallop, and they broke through the iron doors and into the free air. Nick didn’t stop until he’d put distance between them and the Gate House. Then he turned, agile despite his great size, and faced the enemy.

“What’s going on?” Hurley called in a scratchy voice. He was on his feet near Dominic, though he didn’t look good. “Jamie, what—”

The front of the Gate House exploded as the chimera burst through the stone wall, its bulk too vast to fit through the doorway.

Some of the police screamed and fled. “Fire!” Hurley ordered. “Kill it!”

The remainder of the Dangerous Familiars Squad formed up, guns drawn. The chimera jerked and shrieked in pain, but their bullets seemed to do no more damage than they would have against a bull elephant. Enraged, it lowered two of its heads and rushed them. The lion bit and tore, the ram smashed, and claw-tipped limbs grabbed and ripped. The chimera batted a man with its crocodile tail, sending him flying into the reservoir, his scream echoing across the placid waters.

Jamie stared with a mixture of fear and horror pumping through his veins. “How can we fight something like that?” It was impossible; the thing was too huge, too terrible. It would swat even a horse of Nick’s size aside like a gnat.

“It has to have a vulnerable point. Somewhere.” But Nick didn’t seem at all certain of that.

“Where? We could cut off a head or two and not kill it. It has a dozen eyes—we can’t put them all out. Chop off a couple of legs, and it has five more.” A coppery tang coated the back of Jamie’s throat.

“I’d bet it only has one heart,” Nick said.

Oh hell. Was he right? Despite all the monstrous outgrowths, the thing did seem to have a single torso. But how could they hope to reach it through the waving heads and arms, the blinking eyes? Even if they could, none of the other guns had done any damage. Jamie still had the Wraith’s knife, but the blade wasn’t long enough to pierce the thick bands of muscle across its misshapen chest.

“We need something long. Like a spear.” Nick paused. “Or a lance.”

No convenient lances lay within reach. Only rubble from the shattered Gate House: broken stone and twisted metal.

Metal.

“There!” Jamie shouted, pointing.

A straight length of steel that had been part of a railing lay a few feet away. One end had snapped free of a weld, but the other twisted into a jagged point.

“What do you need?” Dominic called. Dust covered him, but he seemed otherwise unharmed so far.

“That steel rod. We’re going to try something.” Something absolutely insane, but it wasn’t as though any of them had other options at the moment.

Nick bore him to the rubble pile, while Dominic hefted the steel rod into reach. Jamie gripped it like a lance, so that the jagged point bit the air a few feet in front of Nick. The end wanted to tip down, and Jamie struggled to brace it as best he could.

Rook landed beside them. “Are you crazy?” He grabbed a handful of Nick’s mane. “This is insane, even for you, Nick. It’ll never work. You’re both going to get killed.”

Jamie licked dry lips, tasted the dust from the collapsed wall on his skin. “Do you have a better idea?”

At the shore of the reservoir, the chimera raged. Bodies lay strewn in its wake, and the longer they delayed, the more there would be.

Dominic put a hand to Rook’s shoulder. “Let them try,” he said softly. Then he looked at Jamie. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Rook withdrew. Jamie swallowed and gripped Nick as tight as he could with his knees. “You ready, horse?”

“Whenever you are, witch.”

“Then let’s go.”

Nick’s powerful muscles surged beneath him, propelling them forward. Rook was right, Jamie thought, as he leaned low over Nick’s mane. This was madness. There were too many heads, too many teeth, too many claws. He couldn’t even see the chimera’s chest through the misshapen horror of limbs and eyes and mouths. The lance might pierce its flank, but without an incredible stroke of luck, they wouldn’t find its heart.

Nick’s hooves struck the ground like thunder, each great stride carrying them closer. They had to try, before more died. The Wraith had already killed too many. Left behind too much grief. They had to do this for the familiars, for the dead.

For Wyatt.

Jamie’s hand closed on the pendant beneath his shirt. “A little something extra,” Wyatt had said, in a jungle thousands of miles away, “just in case.”

“Nick! I need your magic!” Jamie shouted over the pounding of hooves.

Nick didn’t question. “Use it.”

Jamie felt the hex on the pendant catch and fill with magic. Even though he didn’t know what it would do, he said, “Diana, guard and guide me!”

A great light welled between his fingers—then burst forth, seeming to flood the air before them. It took on the shape of a great, golden arrow shrieking straight at the chimera.

Perhaps it was only the wind, or only a strand of Nick’s mane, but Jamie felt the brush of feathers against his cheek. As though for a moment another flew beside them.

The arrow of light struck the chimera, blinding its many eyes with its brilliance. The creature howled and roared through its mouths, rearing back in pain, clawing at its weeping eyes. The movement exposed its malformed chest.

Nick didn’t slow in his charge, all the weight and force he and Jamie could bring to bear slamming the point of the steel rod through muscle, between ribs, and straight into the chimera’s heart.

A deafening scream shook the air around them. The steel bar ripped loose from Jamie’s hands, taking skin with it. Then the massive body was gone, just a dark figure falling with them, into the waters of the reservoir.

The cold water shocked Jamie as it closed over his head. He took an inadvertent gasp, and it flooded his mouth. For a moment, everything was thrashing limbs and darkness, the weight of the wooden leg dragging him down toward the bottom.

Then a warm body bumped into his. Strong teeth closed on his collar, hauling him up until his face broke the surface. Jamie coughed and choked, but managed to grab hold of Nick’s mane. Nick let him go, and he flung an arm over the arch of Nick’s neck, hanging on while he swam to the water’s edge.

The remaining ferals and police waited for them. Jamie crawled out first, and Dominic hastened to wrap a dry coat around him. Nick stumbled up after him, then shifted back into human form. Rook flung his arms around Nick with a squawk. “Stubborn horse.”

Nick returned the hug, then turned toward Jamie. “About time I saved your life for once,” he said with a crooked grin.

“Ah, sweetheart,” Jamie said as he slipped into Nick’s warm embrace. “I owe you for a lot more than that.”