In this condition, Nola wouldn’t survive the Blood Rite, a rebirth in blood and flame. Although, he suspected she was, perhaps, maybe, possibly...stronger than she appeared. After all, she could teleport him, not just herself, a unique quality among royals, and one that required vast amounts of energy.

Bane took a step forward, intending to snatch Nola and run. Then he paused. How would he handle this?

Render her unconscious—gently!—so she couldn’t order him to release her, then whisk her to his lair, where he would tape her mouth shut? When she awoke, he’d have to work as quickly as possible to win her over.

Could he win her over? He’d never courted a female, not even Meredith. In Adwaeweth, females selected males, not the other way around.

No matter. He wouldn’t allow the hand of his vengeance to fall for Zion, granting her loyalty to him, making things more difficult for Bane.

A telltale hum of electricity charged the air, signaling a combatant’s nearness. Zion, no doubt.

Hurry! Once again, Bane jolted into motion. He crossed another street, and a rolling metal carriage—a metal horse of sorts, with many names; car, vehicle, sedan, truck and SVU—screeched to a halt, blaring a high-pitched horn.

He bared his teeth at the humans inside it, but kept motoring forward. Time wasn’t his friend. Seconds, minutes, hours kept ticking away. Now, there were only two and a half weeks until the next assembly.

Zion came barreling out of the shop, his expression a dark mix of anger and concern. “I told you to remain at my side no matter what.”

Bane darted into a tangle of shadows, only a short distance away. Still closing in fast...

“I didn’t want to barf on the tile,” Nola said.

“And you thought you spotted Vale,” the male quipped.

“Maybe.” She jutted her chin, just as she’d done with Bane. “It’s not like I’ve failed to mention my priorities.”

“You could have been harmed.” Zion handed her a small white bottle. “Is this the medication you required?”

“Yes, thank you.” The bottle rattled as she popped the top. “I don’t want to know how you got a controlled substance without a prescription. I’m sure the answer will be blasted on the morning news.” Trembling, she tossed two white pills into her mouth.

The warrior stiffened and scanned the surrounding area. “Come. I sense another combatant.” He draped an arm around her waist, then led her down the sidewalk. “Let’s find a safe house for you.”

He’d clocked Bane’s location before exiting the shop, hadn’t he?

“You know,” Nola said, panting, “if we were in an episode of House Hunters, this out of work author slash baker would have a budget of six million dollars.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Zion replied.

Neither did Bane, but he liked the amused gleam in her eyes.