Again, he faced her. This time, he was snarling, evincing betrayal. A second later, he vanished.

The aches and pains returned in a rush, and she whimpered. Her stomach grew queasy. The sensation worsened until she hunched over and vomited bile.

Ugh. She should have gone with Bane. She’d wanted to go with Bane. But, by staying with Zion, she could keep him from giving chase, granting Bane time to heal.

“Bane obeyed you,” Zion said, crouching at her side. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” she replied, and it was the absolute truth.

To her surprise, he let it drop. “Did he hurt you?”

Taking a page from Bane’s playbook, she ignored the question and said, “Need my pills.” Ragged moan. “Get my pills. Please, Zion.”

Welcome to life with an addict.

He thought for a moment. “I know nothing about human medicine. You must tell me where to acquire the pills, and you must accompany me. Are you healthy enough to travel?”

“I’m not healthy enough to breathe.” Despite an influx of pain, she labored to an upright position. The world spun, and the nausea worsened. “Carry me?” she asked, refusing to be embarrassed by her need for aid.

Zion gathered her in his arms and stood. What he didn’t do? Open a portal. He remained rooted in place, rocking her back and forth, lost in thought. Then he nodded, as if he’d just come to a major decision.

“You know, little dreki. You once asked about my prophetic dream. Still wish to know what I saw you do?”

Ohhh. A bedtime story. “Yes, please.”

He pursed his lips. “You clutched a dagger and stepped up to a combatant. Then you smiled—and shoved the dagger into his heart, killing him. A feat no one else could manage.”

She murdered someone and smiled about it? “Who?” Zion had already given her two clues. A feat no one else could manage—like, say, taking down a dragon shape-shifter? And his heart—the victim was male.

“Who do you think?”

She gulped. The fact that he wanted her to make the kill...well, the victim had to be Bane, who would (probably) want her dead if ever he heard about Zion’s dream.

Her dark side stirred, awakening. She whispered, Strike first, die last.

Apparently, Dark Nola was a real bitch who liked to hibernate, only coming out to play at the most inconvenient times. And she wasn’t done talking.

He speaks the truth. You will kill Bane, and you will like it. His death is the key to obtaining everything you desire—health, happiness and incomparable strength.

Killing Bane would be the equivalent of going through a fast-cure drive through? Oh, the temptation.

In the end, she gave a violent shake of her head. As if she would ever listen to her dark side. Bane’s death wasn’t the key to anything. No one’s was.