“Keep still, little Channeler.” He draws a blade from his boot and raises it above my thigh.

My breath freezes, every muscle in my body turning as rigid as the concrete beneath me. I squeeze my eyes shut and prepare for pain.

A whoosh of air rushes over my body. The pressure releases from my chest. Metal clatters. Followed by the thunk of a heavy object hitting concrete.

When I open my eyes, my attacker lies in a sprawled heap several feet away, mouth slack and out for the count.

On my other side, Laasya lowers her arms. She winks. “You’re welcome.”

I blink up at her. She’s too far away to have hit him. What did she down him with? “That was you?”

The tiny woman smiles and shrugs. “Never judge a witch by her size.” Her head whips around to her fellow witches still holding hands and chanting. “Oh no, I need to go. Get back in the car. I’ve warded it.” She rushes off.

A strained shout draws my attention back to Seonu. The woman’s to my right, grappling with the Blood Servant. They’re both lying on their sides facing each other now, but he still has the knife pointed at her throat, and she’s seconds away from death.

Flipping to my feet, I hiss and clasp my back as pain stabs me from the damaged rib. But I jump forward, raise my foot high, and ram a hard kick into the side of the man’s face. The Blood Servant swears loudly, his head jerking around. He pulls his knife away from Seonu and sweeps it out toward my legs. The blade slices my jeans as I jump from the strike.

The kick accomplishes the needed distraction. Seonu rolls clear and scrambles to her feet, but the Blood Servant’s murderous attention shifts to me.

He springs to a crouch and offers an almost playful grin. He’s shorter than the last one, thinner too. His long face and buck teeth give the impression of a leering rat. His ankle-length coat flaps in the wind as he stalks forward.

“So you’re the Channeler the prince wants, eh? Well, won’t he be pleased when I bring you to him, all wrapped up in chains and crying like a little girl.”

I step back from the Servant, widen my stance, and squat in readiness to dodge his blade. “Bring it on, shit face.”

Instead of springing forward, the man arches back, arms flailing as he tries to grab at something behind him. Deep-red liquid seeps from a mouth twisted with agony. His confused brown eyes search my face for an explanation. It’s only when he sinks to the ground that I see Seonu standing behind him.

Her blue eyes flash with triumph as the man hits the concrete at her feet. When she’s sure he’s dead, she fixes me with a fierce glare, dripping knife still in hand. “What are you doing out of the car, Channeler?”

Um, saving your arse. I open my mouth to say just that but think better of it. She’s still brandishing the dagger, with an I’m-not-afraid-to-skin-you expression on her face. Instead, I flick a thumb and say, “I was just on my way.”