“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want Grace to sacrifice herself for me.”

“But she did. Of her own free will. The only way to honor her memory is to make sure the life she gave you counts. You owe it to her to live as long as you can and find some way to be happy. Fulfill your purpose. Find your mate and kill as many fucking demons as possible.”

“It’s not enough,” said Torr. “It will never be enough.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But it is your duty to try.”

“You clearly already have opinions on where I should start, don’t you?”

“I do. Rory and Cain located a system of caves down south in desperate need of a good cleaning. Thought you could join us.”

Torr opened his mouth to respond, but before he could pull in a breath, the air around him shifted. The flickering fluorescent glow of his hotel room morphed into a brilliant, fiery swath of light. The drops of shower water drying on his bare back heated, adding to the thick humidity creeping across his skin. The floor beneath his boots disappeared, leaving him feeling weightless for a split second before he once again felt substantial.

A giant wave of dizziness slammed into him. High-pitched female screams of fear and the pounding of rushed footsteps echoed in his ears. The smell of dirt and smoke choked him.

Torr blinked to clear his swimming vision, but all he could see was color and light. Metallic blue streaked with brilliant orange.

His hand curled around the hilt of his sword, its cool, rigid contours a welcome familiarity. He didn’t dare draw the blade for fear that some innocent might be close. Instead, he planted his feet and shut his eyes in an effort to locate the cries for help.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder. He tried to shrug it away and face the potential threat, but the grip was too tight.

“Settle, young Theronai,” ordered a familiar feminine voice.

Instantly, the world stopped its whirl and he was once again able to focus.

The sky was orange. The trees were covered in shiny bluish leaves that looked more like metal than plant matter. One sun burned high in the sky, and below it, smaller and more distant, a second one cast its light low over the ground.

Wherever Torr was, he wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Chapter 2

Torr spun to face the woman who’d touched him.

Brenya’s long silver hair whipped around her shoulders as she grabbed his arm and started to run, forcing him to follow where she led. A layered mess of fur, coarse fabric and leather covered her body, frothing around her calves with each hurried step.

They ducked into a rough hut made from inky black sticks and thick, stiff grass the color of gunmetal.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Temprocia, the world I now call home.”

“Where’s Grace?” demanded Torr.

“No time for that. We are under attack.”

No way. Torr might get only one chance to find the woman he loved, and he was not going to waste it. “Your attack can wait. Where is Grace?”

Brenya pulled aside a leather hide covering a window and pointed across the clearing. Several huts dotted the area. One large fire burned in the center of the clearing, ringed by pink stones. Just on the other side of the fire crawled a reptilian animal twice Torr’s size. It had six legs that sent it slinking across the ground like a centipede, but faster. Its long tail was forked, and each prong moved independently of the other. Both were thick and covered in bonelike spikes. Its elongated head was filled with rows of conical teeth meant for ripping apart meat and crushing bone.

“Your Grace is dead if you don’t help. Now go forth and slay the beast before it reaches my baby girls.”

A small child with white-blond hair raced toward a hut, but her chubby little legs weren’t fast enough to carry her out of harm’s way. The beast saw her and charged.

Torr drew his sword as he bolted out of the hut. A bellow burst from his lungs, drawing the creature’s attention away from the child.

It hissed, tensed its body and a second later used that massive forked tail to fling itself toward him.

Torr leapt out of the way, rolling as he hit the ground. Rocks and sticks dug into his bare back, grinding the disk against his spine. The pain of it was a distant, inconsequential thing that he gave no attention to.

He came out of his roll, landing on his feet, his sword level and ready to swing.

The creature was only a few feet away. He could see now that it had massive eyes the color of swamp water. Its skin seemed to shift on its frame, creating a dizzying pattern of movement that drew his attention.

Nicholas was right. Torr was way too easily distracted.

From the corner of his eye he saw movement. A woman sprinted across the ground to scoop up the little blond girl and carry her to safety. For a second, Torr thought he recognized the woman. She almost looked like Andra, but younger.

Tori? It was possible, but the woman he saw was too old to be the same one who’d left Dabyr with Grace only a few months ago.

Now wasn’t the time to worry about who she was, not when the beast was preparing to charge.

Torr shifted to his left, using the fire to protect his back. There was no way to know if this creature was alone, and the last thing he needed was a nasty surprise.

Another hiss erupted from the reptile, and its tail curled up under it, preparing to launch it into the air again.

Torr held his ground. The thing charged through the air. He stepped cleanly out of the way, letting it jump headfirst into the roaring fire.

No! called Brenya, her voice a resounding boom inside his skull. Not the fire!

Torr had no idea what she meant until he saw that the creature wasn’t screaming in pain. It wasn’t even moving fast to escape the blaze. All it was doing was burning as it turned around for another attack.

That’s when Torr realized what Brenya meant. Fire wasn’t hurting the creature; it was simply giving it another advantage. Because now, he wasn’t just fighting a giant flying lizard—he was fighting a giant flaming flying lizard.

And he wasn’t fireproof.

The creature launched itself toward Torr again. He spun out of the way, but the beast came so close that it left a singed patch across his bare ribs.

Blade in hand, he turned to face it, angling away from the fire and the surrounding huts. The lizard followed him, one huge eye focused on him and the other moving, scanning for more danger. Or prey.

Torr growled and thrust his sword at the creature, making sure he was the most dangerous target around. The little blond girl was safely hidden inside one of the rough buildings, and Brenya had the good sense to stay out of sight. A couple of flimsy doors were cracked open enough for Torr to make out people watching. The woman who’d rescued the little girl was struggling against the hold of two other women, who barely managed to restrain her from combat. Her short sword gleamed under the orange sky, but she was unable to break free without using it on them—something she was apparently reluctant to do.