“I’m trying,” he muttered, regaining control of her arms only to have her jerk her head backward to bust Styx’s nose.

“Try harder,” the king gritted, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Together they slowly halted her struggles, her screams of frustration becoming whimpers of fear as Sally pressed the book against her stomach.

“If I die, she dies,” the spirit warned, the glowing gaze turning toward Santiago. “Do you hear me, Santiago? This host will die just as Gaius did.”

Siljar stepped forward. “Don’t listen.”

Yeah, easy for her to say.

Already he could begin to detect the damage being done to her exquisite face. Not that he gave a shit what she looked like. His love for Nefri wasn’t about flesh and bone. But the fear that she would be destroyed along with the spirit threatened to tip him over the edge.

“You have a minute to do what you have to do,” he hissed. “After that . . . I make no promises.”

Siljar rolled her eyes, muttering something about leeches beneath her breath. Then she shifted her attention to Sally.

“I will need your assistance, witch.”

Sally grimaced, her face drenched in sweat and her slender body trembling as she continued to hold the strange book against Nefri. “I don’t know anything about sorcery,” she said, her voice strained.

“I will start the weave; I just need you to help hold the threads.”

It all sounded like gibberish to Santiago, but Sally gave a hesitant nod. “Okay.”

Siljar closed her eyes and held out her tiny hands. “Let’s begin.”

Santiago was vaguely aware of Roke moving to support Sally’s swaying body and Styx’s hiss of pain as Nefri gave him another head butt, but his sole focus was on the woman wrapped in his arms.

He felt her shudder, her skin turning ashen as the witch and Oracle performed their mystical voodoo.

“Don’t leave me, Nefri,” he husked. “Don’t you dare leave me again.”

The glow began to fade from her eyes and for a horrified moment, Santiago thought he was truly losing her.

No.

He tightened his arms, silently willing her to survive.

At first he could feel nothing. As if she’d already slipped away from him. Then, as he stubbornly refused to concede defeat, he felt a . . . spark. The tiniest awareness of the female he adored beyond all bearing.

A relief so vast it threatened to send him to his knees flooded through him, and ignoring the crowd watching their every move, he gently cupped her face.

“Hey there, beautiful.”

Her brows drew together as she struggled to focus on his face. “Santiago.”

“I’m here.”

She gave a slow, painful nod. “I need . . .”

“Yes, my love?”

“I need you to promise me.”

He leaned closer despite Styx’s growl of warning, trying to catch her soft words. “Promise you what?”

“Promise me you won’t let the spirit control me again.”

“Siljar is here with the witch,” he tried to soothe, knowing that losing control of her body and power was her worst nightmare come true. “They’re going to get rid of it.”

She lifted her hand to weakly clutch at his arm. “If it gets loose again, I want you to swear you’ll kill me before allowing it to use me.”

A part of him wanted to offer comfort.

To say whatever was necessary to ease her fears.

But, a larger part understood he couldn’t lie.

Not to a woman he intended to spend the rest of eternity with.

“No.”

Her dark eyes filled with a fear that sent a stab of agony through his heart.

“Santiago, I couldn’t bear it,” she pleaded, her face still ashen and drawn with weariness. “You know I couldn’t.”

“And I can’t bear to lose you,” he said with a blunt honesty. He’d intended to save his proclamation of love until a more appropriate time. Like when the current life or death situation was over. Perhaps at a location that could be considered at least a little romantic. And at the very least, he’d intended for them to be alone. Now, he accepted that the time or place was meaningless. If the past few months had taught him nothing else, it was that there was no promise of tomorrow. He wasn’t wasting another second without telling this woman what she meant to him. “You are my very reason for living.”

The dark eyes softened with a love that he could tangibly feel flowing between them even as her expression remained set in stubborn lines. “But . . .”

“No.” He brushed his lips over the chilled skin of her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “Ask me to be your mate. Ask me to stand at your side for the rest of eternity. Ask me to love and honor and respect you,” he husked. “But don’t ask me to sacrifice you. I can’t.”

“There will be no further sacrifices required,” Siljar said in a weary voice. “At least not today.”

Santiago glanced up to discover Roke carrying an unconscious Sally toward the door and Siljar leaning against a pile of rubble. He frowned as he realized the book had disappeared.

“Where’s the spirit?”

Siljar grimaced, her devastating power for once muted. “It has been sent to the Commission. There are those qualified to keep it imprisoned.”

Chapter 30

Nefri regained her balance, although she allowed Santiago to keep a protective arm around her shoulders. She already sensed that there wasn’t a power on this earth that could force him to release his hold on her.

Besides, she liked the solid weight. It reminded her that after endless centuries of being alone, she now had a companion she not only trusted, but who filled her heart with a joy she’d never dreamed was possible.

This man.

This glorious, irreverent, sexy vampire she loved without condition.

The man she intended to claim as her mate.

At least once she could be absolutely certain the danger was over.

“Why didn’t you destroy it?” she demanded of the Oracle, belatedly noticing that the tiny demon looked as drained as Nefri felt.

“Because none of us could be certain what would happen if we did.”

Styx stepped forward, his arm still healing from her savage attack and his face bloody. “Cryptic as ever, Siljar,” he accused her.

“Not cryptic. The simple truth,” Siljar answered, one of the few demons in the world not terrified of the King of Vampires. “The creature is dangerous, but it did spawn vampires as well as other species of demons.” She shrugged. “To destroy it might very well damage its offspring in ways we can’t predict.”

Nefri gave a grudging nod. Life and death were a far more delicate balance than most people realized.

“So it’s in that . . .” She struggled to remember through the haze that had clouded her mind. Hadn’t the witch been pressing something against her? Something that had driven the spirit from her body? Ah, yes. “Book?”

“It’s trapped in a vacuum between time and space,” the Oracle said. “So long as it’s properly monitored it won’t be allowed to escape.”

“Shouldn’t you have thought of that before sending Nefri’s clan into danger?” Santiago asked, as always living on the edge.

Thankfully, Siljar didn’t appear offended. Instead she gave a lift of her brows. “Nefri’s clan?”

Santiago tightened his arm around her. “Our clan.”

Siljar smiled in satisfaction. Not the most reassuring sight considering the razor sharp teeth. “The sorcery created by the witches was enough to hold it prisoner for centuries.”

Santiago lifted a brow. “So you had no nefarious purpose in allowing Nefri to lead her people beyond the Veil?”

“She came to me with a request for a place of peace.”

“And?” Santiago pressed, ignoring Nefri’s frown. He wasn’t fooled for a moment by the Oracles display of innocence.

The tiny demon gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “And we hoped that having her people living beyond the Veil would give us an early warning if the spirit did start to waken.”

Before Santiago could say something even more stupid than usual, Nefri smoothly cut him off. “But the spirit never disturbed my clan,” she pointed out. “At least, not that we ever noticed.”

The dark eyes suddenly held a deep, unfathomable wisdom. “Unfortunately, we didn’t realize how thin the walls between dimensions had become. The spirit was able to remain hidden while manipulating a handful of vampires into killing the witches, and then slipping past the Veil using Gaius’s medallion.”

Styx snorted at the understatement. Nefri didn’t blame him. The thinning of barriers had been more than unfortunate. It had been a breath from the apocalyptic.

“Oh yeah, and while the spirit was sneaking around, we were all nearly killed by the Dark Lord,” he said dryly. “You remember that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Siljar squared her shoulders, smoothing her hands down the robe that was once again a pristine white. “The Commission was concentrating on trying to locate several missing prisoners that escaped through the weakened dimensions while you put an end to the threat.”