I kept a grip of the mother and took those final few steps. The magic hit me like a club, ripping apart my hold on the mother and sending my senses reeling. I felt rather than heard his approach and threw myself sideways. I hit the ground hard but rolled to my feet, only to be knocked backward by a blow to the side of my face. I swore, fighting tears and pain, but somehow twisted around and lashed out with a booted foot. It connected with flesh but was met with a laugh.

“Is that the best you can do without your fire, Emberly? I’m disappointed.”

I blinked, watching him fade in and out of existence—and wasn’t sure if it was him or me. He ran at me again. I dodged, but at the last moment he dropped and swept my feet out from underneath me. I somehow twisted as I was going down, landing on hands and knees and scrambling away. He didn’t pursue me. He simply waited.

I stood up. He came at me again; again I dodged. The blow aimed at my face tore down my side, shredding my shirt and slashing into my skin.

Distantly, I became aware of fighting, of shouting, and knew Jackson was battling the guards. But he was heavily outnumbered, even with his fire, and was no immediate help to me.

“I can smell your blood,” Rinaldo said softly, “and its scent is sweet. Perhaps I should taste it before I kill you.”

“Confidence always comes before a fall, Rinaldo,” I said, “and your fall is going to be spectacular.”

“We both know that is a threat you cannot back up.” He charged me. I spun away, but he caught my arm, then kicked my legs out from under me. My back hit the ground, and something hard dug into my back. The gun. I still had the fucking gun.

But before I could reach for it, he was on me, his weight pinning me. I tried to buck him off, but he was too heavy. I tried hitting him, punching him, clawing him, but he merely smiled and caught my arms, holding them away from him.

“Checkmate, I believe,” he said, and then bent down to feed from me.

I screamed in horror, screamed in pain, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything, as he drained the life from me.

Emberly! Jackson’s urgent cry bit through my panic. Use me.

What?

Use our connection. Draw my fire.

The stones will stop it.

The witch said they won’t. Try!

Or die. He didn’t actually say that last bit, but it was in his thoughts nevertheless. I drew in a shuddering breath, feeling my strength slipping away even as I did so. It was now or never.

And I had no idea how to do it.

Imagine our connection as a tunnel. Reach down through it.