“What are you talking about?” Brigid asked, standing up and brushing hair out of her eyes. “What can Gio do that I can’t?”

“Melt the door without killing everyone around you.”

“What?”

“Melt the door?” Murphy asked. “Is that even possible?”

“Yes.”

Brigid shook her head. “I don’t know if I could melt the door without bringing down the ship. My control…”

Murphy’s mind spun. “Then don’t melt it. Just heat it. If I can cool it fast enough, it’ll be brittle. Then Carwyn—”

“You think I might be able to crack it?” Carwyn glared. “That’s well and good, but what if Brigid loses control? I told you, she can’t—”

“I can!” Brigid broke in.

Murphy could see the stark terror on Carwyn’s face.

“Brigid, no.”

“I can do it,” she said, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth. “I know I can. Now stand back.”

Murphy pulled Carwyn away from the door as Brigid stripped her loose shirt and jeans off, leaving her in a thin undershirt and pants. Her pale body glowed in the darkness as she began to gather energy. Her amnis sparked and jumped. Murphy could feel it. Could feel the rigid tension in the immortal behind him.

Brigid’s hands were hovering over the door as she yelled. “Anne, stand back!”

The flames came from her palms, red and gold with a swirl of other colors, like a fire opal brought to life. The air filled with the smell of burned hawthorn as the air belowdecks was sucked into the fire. Murphy saw Brigid struggle for control.

A harsh stream of curses came from Carwyn’s mouth, but he didn’t try to stop her.

“Murphy,” Carwyn said from behind him, “step away, lad.”

He was transfixed. Murphy had never seen Brigid work with fire. Not like this. It was as if the flames danced along her skin.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“Stand back.”

The fire centered, focused. It was too hot. The air belowdecks was gone, pulled into the dance of Brigid’s flame.

Carwyn shoved him to the side and walked toward his mate, waiting a few meters away.

Murphy tried to yell at him to stop, but couldn’t pull enough air to talk. The door was cherry red, but Brigid wasn’t stopping. Her face was peaceful, adoring the fire that curled and licked at her skin.

She would burn them all.

No, she couldn’t. His heart lay beyond the barrier of that door. Murphy shook his head and reached out with his amnis, trying to dampen the flames, but the water in the air had fled, eaten by the fire. Murphy fell to his knees and felt the metal beneath him tremble and shake. It was enough to break Brigid’s concentration, and she turned to look at her mate. Reason returned to her and the fire died back.

Carwyn said nothing, only opened his arms as Brigid ran to him. Murphy heard a swift pop, and the damp sea air rushed back into the vacuum of the corridor. He shook his head, lifting his arms and calling the water to him as he never had before.

He felt for it, and the sea rushed to him, almost suffocating him. It hissed along Brigid and Carwyn’s skin and coated his own before he sent it out, directing the damp air to the door, which was still glowing red. It gave a giant whoosh as the corridor filled with steam. The water condensed on the cooling metal around him and he pushed it again, a whipping cycle of steam and water lashing against the door blocking him from Anne.

Carwyn touched his shoulder and pulled him away. “My turn.”

Chapter Twenty-five

FIRE AND RAIN. FIRE AND RAIN and blood in the streets. I’m hungry and there’s so much blood…

Josie’s singsong words echoed in her mind.

Fire and rain. Rain and fire.

Blood.

So much blood.

The humans were huddled against her as the small metal room turned to hell.

She heard nothing but the roar of blood in their veins. She felt nothing but the press of their bodies, begging for her bite.

Anne swam in the heat, surrendering to the pull of death. She cried when the blood slid down her throat, but she kept drinking.

More.

She wanted more.

She drank and drank, but the blood tasted of death. She spat it out of her mouth, but then she bit again.

So much blood.

Her mind went black.

In her dreams, the metal screamed in protest as the ship rocked beneath her. The humans rolled, lifeless in the hold of the great ship, their throats torn by her fangs. Their blood painted her skin and coated her tongue. She smoothed the hot red over her face, painting her body with death.

“Anne!”

She curled to the side, hiding from his voice. She could feel the poison seeping into her. She had to hide.

Urgent hands lifted her, tried to open her eyes.

“Anne, let us—”

She lashed out, baring her teeth even as the room came into focus. She felt cool, watery air wash over her, and her eyes rolled back. Hands caught her before she hit the floor.

“Áine.” He cradled her body, but she tried to roll away.

Dirty. The dirty blood was everywhere.

“Anne?” he said again, desperate for her.

Her heart bled. She loved him so much. The sobs tore from her throat, and she pushed him with her mind.

Away. Safe.

“Anne, stop!”

“Why does he keep letting her go?”

“Don’t ask, love. Murphy, let Brigid—”

“Stay away!” Anne screamed.