Gasping, Zoe went down on her knees in the bloody snow. Her stomach clutched, had her retching uselessly. When the nausea and the wracking shudders eased, she lifted her head.

The white buck stood, knee-deep in the snow. The gouges on his side glistened with blood, but his eyes were steady and unblinking on hers.

“We’ve got to get out of here. It might come back.” She pushed to her feet and, swaying, dug into her shoulder bag. She came up with a pack of tissues. “You’re hurt, you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

But he stepped back as she approached. Then he bent his forelegs, lowered his great head in what was unmistakably a bow.

And vanished, in a shimmer of light.

The snow was gone, and the path to the field was clear once again. She looked down where the blood had stained the ground, and saw a single yellow rose.

She bent to retrieve it, and let herself weep a little as she limped out of the trees.

“THEY’RE just scratches, but some of them are nasty.” Malory pressed her lips together hard as she swabbed the cuts on Zoe’s flesh. “I’m glad you came straight here.”

“I thought . . . No, I didn’t think.” She was feeling a little drunk, Zoe realized, a little light-headed and punchy now that she was back. “I just drove here, didn’t even consider going home first. Jesus, I hardly know how I got here. It’s all one big blur. I needed to see you and Dana, tell you about it, make sure you were both all right.”

“We weren’t the ones off in the woods alone, fighting monsters.”

“Hmm.” Zoe tried to ignore the sting of antiseptic.

She’d driven back to the Valley in a fog that had kept her numb. She hadn’t started to shake until she’d walked through the doors of Indulgence.

She’d had to shower. She’d needed hot water, soap. Clean. The need for it had been so urgent that she’d asked her friends to come up to the bathroom with her so she could explain while she washed.

Now, wearing only her underwear, perched on a stool in the bathroom with Malory tending her hurts and Dana off to get her some clean clothes from home, it all felt like a dream.

“He couldn’t even come after me like a man. Fucking coward. Guess I showed him.”

“Guess you did.” Overcome, Malory dropped her forehead to the crown of Zoe’s head. “Oh, God, Zoe, you could’ve been killed.”

“I thought I was going to be, and I have to tell you, it seriously pissed me off. I’m not trying to make light of it.” She gripped Malory’s hand. “It was awful. It was just awful—and, and primal. I wanted to kill. When I picked up that branch, I was ready to kill. I was hungry for it. I’ve never felt like that before.”

“Here, let me get these cuts on your back. This one just missed your faerie.”

“Good faerie today.” She winced at the burn. “The buck, Mal. He saved me. If he hadn’t charged that way, I don’t know what might’ve happened. And he was bleeding, he was hurt. Hurt a lot more than I am. I wish I knew if he’s okay.”

She snorted out a laugh. “I was going to mop him up with a bunch of Kleenex. How dopey is that?”

“I bet he didn’t think it was.” Wanting to take inventory of her friend’s hurts, Malory stepped back. “There. That’s as good as it’s going to get.”

“My face isn’t too bad, is it?” She got up cautiously, turned to the mirror over the sink. “No, it’s okay. I guess I’m snapping back if I’m worried about my face.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Well, some lipstick and blush would help.” She shifted her gaze, met Malory’s in the mirror. “He didn’t beat me.”

“No, he sure as hell didn’t.”

“I got somewhere. I don’t know exactly where, but I did something right today, took some step, and it’s got him worried.”

She turned around. “I’m not going to lose. Whatever it takes, I’m not going to lose.”

IN the high tower of Warrior’s Peak, Rowena mixed a potion in a silver cup. However troubled her mind, her hands were quick and sure. “You’ll need to drink all of this.”

“I’d rather a whiskey.”

“You’ll have one after.” She glanced over to where Pitte stood, scowling out the window. He was stripped to the waist, and the gouges on his side were red and raw in the light.

“Once you’ve taken the potion, I should be able to treat the wound, and draw the poison out. Even with this, you’ll be tender for a few days.”

“And so will he. More than tender, I’d say. More of his blood spilled than mine. She wouldn’t run,” he recounted. “She stayed and fought.”

“And I thank all the fates for it.” She stepped over, held out the cup. “Don’t frown at it. Drink it, Pitte, all down, and you’ll not only have whiskey, but I’ll see that there’s apple pie for dessert.”

He had a weakness for apple pie, and for the look in his lover’s eyes. So he took the cup, tossed back the contents. “Damnation, Rowena, can you make it any more foul?”

“Sit now.” She opened her hand, held out a thick glass. “And drink your whiskey.”

He drank, but he didn’t sit. “The battle lines have changed again. Kane knows now we won’t stand back and do nothing, bound by the laws he’s already broken.”

“He risks all now, too. He banks on the power he’s gathered, what he’s twisted and surrounds himself with. If the spell can be broken, Pitte, if he can be defeated, he won’t go unpunished. I have to believe there is still justice in our world.”

“We’ll fight.”

She nodded. “We’ve made our choice, too. What will you do if this choice keeps us here? If this choice means we can never go home again?”

“Live.” He stared out the window. “What else?”

“What else?” she replied, and laying her hand on his wound, she cooled the burn.

Chapter Eleven

HE had to work at being calm, to strap himself down so he didn’t march into Zoe’s house and start spewing orders. That, Brad knew, was his father’s way.

And it was damned effective.

Still, as much as he loved and admired his father, he didn’t want to be his father.