Nero’s pulse froze at the sight of the Glock pointed at Becca’s head. One shot and she’d be dead. But Becca lunged at the guy in the doorway before he could fire and cracked the pipe against his sidearm. A bang roared through the cramped room and debris on the floor jumped away from their feet as the bullet impacted the floor. She wrenched the pipe up and smashed it against the side of his head.

The man staggered back, and Nero seized him with a wind whip and slammed him into the concrete pillar they’d just passed. Behind him, something crashed, and someone yelled. The rest of the tactical team was still after them.

Becca leapt back from the doorway. “There’s more coming from this way.” That makes what? Nine or ten?

“I’d say, with the two your friend took out, at least a team of twelve.”

“For me?”

“Might be for your friend.” The earth magic he’d displayed during the fight outside the facility had looked dangerous. Probably some form of energy or soul consumption. But if he was that dangerous and they knew where to find him, it didn’t make sense to have waited so long to grab him.

“This is a trap for me.” So I can end up being a trap for you. Her will tightened even more around him.

Two men rushed toward them from around one of the boilers. The first guy knelt to help the man Nero had tossed into the pillar. The other raised his Taser.

Nero sent a lurching gust at them, then jerked his attention to the office doorway, where three men had taken cover, one behind a pillar, the other two behind toppled filing cabinets. He and Becca were surrounded, and while he could summon a gate, he still needed a good few seconds to make it large enough for them to pass through. His gates didn’t rapidly form like Diablo’s, and that opened them up to an attack. He needed to get them some place safe.

A gunshot exploded behind him and pain sliced through his chest. Becca screamed, and Nero blasted wind at the guys behind him. Someone yelled, and two more gunshots roared from the office in front of him while pain sliced his shoulder and thigh.

Oh, God, he’s hit.

“I’m fine. It’ll be healed in a few seconds.” And any internal injuries will heal within the hour, but we still have to get the hell out of here for me to summon a gate.

The men in the boiler room scrambled closer. He swept another gust of wind, but it sputtered out before it hit them.

Shit. “Tell me there’s another way out of here.” He ground his teeth, fighting past the pain, and willed his wind back into a gust that forced the men to take cover.

“No.” But they want me alive. Becca lunged through the door into the office.

God damn it. Nero bolted after her, sending his wind behind them to cover their backs.

She slid over a debris-strewn desk and dove for the closest guy, who jerked his weapon down and scrambled to draw his Taser.

I was right. She grabbed the barrel of his gun, smashed the pipe against the man’s face, and yanked the weapon from his grip.

The other two men aimed, ready to fire at Nero, but he sent a blast at them and heaved their hands up, throwing off their aim.

More gunfire exploded behind him. Another bullet pounded into his back, cutting through the almost-healed wound in his chest with searing pain. His knees buckled, and he swept wind around himself to catch his balance.

Nero? Becca’s fear and pain flooded him, making his wind waver.

He staggered, re-caught his balance, and rushed around the desk. I’m fine. Just keep going.

The back door is straight ahead. She smashed the pipe against her guy’s head a second time then dropped the pipe, switched her grip on the gun, and fired at the other two men in the office, forcing them to tuck tighter behind their cabinets.

The back door stood partially ajar, with a toppled shelf and a fallen I-beam between them and escape. Nero gusted wind at the cabinets and smashed them into the men ahead of them, while Becca fired behind him into the boiler room. It was as if she’d known who he was going after and acted to cover his back. Of course, she could have known. She was in his head, an agonizing presence squeezing his essence so tight it was hard to keep his wind activated. Hell, it was hard to even breathe.

Get the door, she said, and he knew she meant with his wind.

Duck.

She dropped to one knee as he seized the rusted metal security door with his magic, wrenched it off its rusted hinges, and tossed it behind him at the men coming from the boiler room. Someone screamed. More gunfire exploded.

“I said don’t hit the girl!” someone yelled.

Pain burned through Nero’s skull and his wind faltered. Even if they got out of the building, they still needed to get away long enough for Nero to summon a gate. What he needed was for them to get out and for his wind to have enough power to pull the roof down behind them.

He hissed his power word, hoping to build up more magic, but it flickered, a whisper of wind trailing around his hands, and the agony in his head grew. Becca’s hold was too tight. She had to let go. Just for a second.

But the voices. They’re so loud. I can’t—

Please. Just get out the door and let go for a second.

She gave a tight nod and ducked under the angled I-beam. Nero raced after her and yelled his power word, praying the force of the call would help him summon and hold onto his magic.

Just a few more feet. Becca was now framed in the doorway with a pale snowy yard beyond that sparkling in the moonlight.

The cabinet closest to him heaved aside, and one of the men jerked his Glock up and fired.

Becca gasped as searing agony shot through her chest and Nero’s.

She stumbled. Oh, God. And collapsed in the snow just outside the door.

No. Mother, no. Nero’s pulse skipped a beat. She’d been shot. She was down. He was going to lose another inamorata and before he’d even had a chance to get to know her.

Rage roared through him, and his wind erupted over his hands with a ferocity he hadn’t known was possible. He bolted out the door, grabbed Becca, and slammed his magic into the office. It hit like a tornado into the two-story addition on the back of the factory, sweeping debris and furniture and broken glass into a slicing, piercing, crushing vortex.

The men inside screamed, tossed with the furniture, slammed into the walls and ceiling like toys, until a deafening crack cut through the roar of the wind and the outside wall of the addition collapsed, pulling it down along with part of the main brick wall.

Nero dropped to the ground and ripped open Becca’s bloody coat. Blood stained the front of her hoodie, the tear above her left breast ragged. He pressed his hands to the wound but knew applying pressure wouldn’t stop the bleeding if the wound was a through-and-through.

She gasped for breath, her eyes wide, her thoughts an incoherent whirl in his head.

“Hold on.” Please, Mother. Hold on.

But they both knew the shot was fatal. Blood already pooled beneath her, seeping a wide swath over the hardened snow, dark against its brilliant white. She was losing too much too fast. The bullet had to have severed an artery. If she was a dragon, she’d survive. If she was a true human mage, she’d survive. But she wasn’t either, despite what her miraculously healed bones suggested. He had to have been mistaken about that… or it was the new intake’s magic… or something.

Right now, all he knew was that she was human, with a bit of magic. Not nearly enough magic. And in the flash of a heartbeat, a split second of knowing her, his soul had picked hers for eternity. He could try to deny it all he wanted, but that wouldn’t change the truth. She was his inamorata.

The myth about there only ever being one might be a lie, but it had taken him almost two thousand years to find another. He couldn’t go through that again. Mother, please. I can’t.

Cold seeped through their mental connection. Becca’s breath gurgled, and blood bubbled over her lips.

There had to be a way to save her. There had to.

Now you’ll be safe, she thought. It can mean something. “I die, your kids are safe.”

But the price was too high. His soul was already shattering, howling with desperation. If he lost it, his puzur wouldn’t be safe. He wouldn’t be able to protect them. He couldn’t even protect his inamorata.

A scream tore from him. He couldn’t face the desolation of losing an inamorata again. His chest burned, and his heart and soul squeezed in anguish. There was no purpose without her. And yes, it didn’t make sense, he didn’t know her, and she didn’t love him back. But being inamorated didn’t make sense. It wouldn’t matter if she despised him. His soul had picked. She was his match, his destiny. And she was dying in a frozen parking lot, her blood oozing hot between his fingers.

She didn’t deserve this. Not with everything she’d already survived. Mother, if he’d just gotten shot instead. He could heal this. Hell, even if the impossible happened and his soul magic couldn’t heal the wound, at least she’d be alive. At least she could have had the life Zenobia’s dragons had tried to take from her. If she could just survive this, she’d overcome the soul sickness. Raven would help her. The puzur would take her in. She’d be all right. They had to get back to the house. Anaea could rebirth Becca, like she’d done with Ryan.

He pressed a hand to the ground beside him, hissed his power word, and summoned a gate.

More blood bubbled over Becca’s lips and her thoughts shuddered, turning to fog in his head. He could feel her soul weakening.

Come on. Come on. The gate was forming so slowly. Each second drew into an agonizing eternity.

She wasn’t going to make it. And even if they could get to the house, there was no guarantee help would arrive in time. He was going to lose her. Mother. This wasn’t going to work. There had to be something else he could do. Some way he could save her. Some way he could take her suffering.

An inferno erupted in his chest. Agony screamed through every cell in his body as the flesh and sinew in his back and chest over his heart burst, as if a bullet had torn through his body, but no one had fired. White lightning shot through him, stealing all thought and breath. There was no up or down, no frozen parking lot, no cold. Only agony, and Becca screaming in his head.