He had a point. “I’ll cover you.” Adare looked at Grace, who’d gone stark white. “Keep your back to the tire so they can’t shoot you beneath the carriage. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, her eyes dark with shock, her hands surprisingly steady on the gun.

Jacqueline edged around the front again. “Feels like old times, right?”

Even in the old times, they’d never been outgunned like this.

The shooting stopped for a moment. Adare paused, looking at Benny, whose face was set in furious lines.

A loud voice, garbled yet strong, came through the storm. “Just give us the Key, and we’ll go.”

Well, shit.

* * * *

The Key? Grace held her position against the snow-covered tire, her mind swirling. This was her fault. Obviously the Kurjans had found her interaction with Freddy on the internet and had managed to trace her here. Now Nick and Simone’s house had been blown up, and there was no escape from the fight. There was only one solution that would keep everyone from being killed. She swallowed, sucking in freezing air. “They won’t kill me. Yet. I’ll go.”

Adare turned his head almost in slow motion to face her. Bruises mottled the left side of his face, and blood trickled from beneath his jaw. “Have you lost your mind?”

She clutched the heavy weapon with her gloves, even though her hands were freezing. Her stomach cramped, but her mind quickly calculated the odds. They sucked. “No. There’s no way out of here, and we’re definitely outnumbered. They have to have all three Keys to kill at once, and they’ll only have me.” She’d at least understood that much of the mythology. She knew her plan made sense. Her voice shook, but she couldn’t stop it. “That’ll give you time to find me.” With a lot more soldiers at his back.

“No.” He motioned for Benny to get the explosives out of the rear of the SUV. “I smell gas. We need to get away from this thing.”

“You have five seconds to decide,” the booming voice continued.

Taking a deep breath, Grace levered herself up to look through the broken windows. With one glance, every organ in her body froze. She’d never seen Cyst soldiers in real life, and they were much bigger than in the drawings Adare had shown her years ago. These were the religious leaders of the Kurjans, but they looked like the bringers of death. One stood in the headlights of the SUV, his stance wide, weapons visible against his black uniform. A strip of white hair down his head continued into a long braid; the remainder of his head was bald and paler than the snow. Despite the storm and distance, she could see that his eyes were an odd purplish red. He apparently stopped counting and reached for a glowing green gun at his waist.