Obey him? Come on. Grace pulled off her gloves, and freezing cold instantly pierced her skin. His hands were firm on her neck, but he didn’t squeeze. She scraped her nails down Adare’s coat and then reached for his face. He leaned back, out of reach, protecting his eyes.

They were a burnished silver, hot yet somehow still dark. His face was unyielding, matched only by his firm hold around her neck. She couldn’t break it. For the first time with him, she felt real fear. Yet he didn’t cut off her air. Maybe he couldn’t force himself to do it.

The roar of a machine echoed through the air.

Adare leaned to the side, and his hold relaxed slightly. She sucked in a tiny amount of air. He released her and slapped the gun back into her hand. “Cover me.”

She gulped in oxygen, filling her aching lungs with the frigid air. He’d threatened to choke her. Oh, she’d love to show him those fighting moves she’d learned, but she doubted she’d best him in any fight.

There was nowhere to go. If he decided to choke her out, she had no defense. Except the gun. She looked at the heavy object in her hands and then nodded. Yeah. She’d hit him instead of Benny this time.

She turned and peered around the spruce just in time to see Nick Veis, his face dark with fury, jump a snowmobile over the burning vehicle and smash right into two Kurjans with the skis, sending them spiraling across the icy ground. Before they could jump up, he was off the machine and slicing with a blade that looked sharp enough to take off several heads.

Right behind him, Simone Brightston executed a perfect flip on two skis over a burning porch swing, a plasma ball already forming in her hands. Her dark red hair flew in the snowy air, and the green of her eyes glowed with dangerous intent. She threw the ball at the nearest Kurjan, and he screamed, his uniform burning.

She landed, forming ball after ball and throwing with the precision of a major league pitcher.

Grace gulped and partially stood, aiming at a Kurjan running for the witch. She fired, hitting him in the neck, and he stumbled, going down on one knee. Simone turned, gave her a nod of what looked like approval, and then threw another ball of morphing fire at the downed enemy, who shrieked in pain.

Grace had heard that witches could create plasma balls of fire out of air, using an application of physics beyond her understanding, but she had never seen it happen in real life.

Nick and Simone fought in a deadly dance that appeared choreographed, each covering the other’s back while delivering devastating blows with knife and fire. What would it be like to be so in tune with another person?