Blood poured from her wrists, and flames licked at her body. Emerazel’s fire had ignited the whiskey, and the sigil blazed brightly around her.

Her eyes flicked to Abrax, who was diving right for her, his face etched with cold wrath. She closed her eyes and chanted the sigil spell, just before the incubus’s powerful body had the chance to slam into her.

Chapter 32

Ursula reconstituted on the floor of the sigil room. For once, she’d remembered to hold her breath, but the pain that tore through her arms and legs was far worse than the soot in her lungs. She glanced down at her ravaged forearms, and the gashes in her leg from Abrax’s talons. They had ripped right into the muscle, and blood pumped from the wounds. Dizzy, she tried to stand, pain splintering her limbs, and only made it to her knees. Her body shook violently, and nausea overwhelmed her. An image flashed in her mind of the slumped fae corpse—the man she’d so casually killed.

She couldn’t give in yet. What if Kester was still in the fae realm, still alive somehow and being tortured to death? Nauseated, she stayed on all fours, watching the blood pour from her wounds.

Kester could have saved his own skin at least once by giving her up to Emerazel after her failure. Was that why he’d been so reckless tonight—because he knew he’d probably die anyway? Her stomach heaved, and she vomited.

Suppressing a scream, she forced herself up, her legs shaking. How long until Emerazel comes for me? Her right leg had been shredded by the talons, and she only lasted a few seconds before she was on the floor again, crawling this time. Slowly, each movement torture, she dragged herself into the hall. There was an extra cellphone in her bedroom. It would be agonizing climbing the stairs, but she’d get there eventually. As long as I don’t bleed out first.

Blood smeared the hall as she crawled. If anyone wanted to fight her now, she’d just roll over and give up. Just get to the phone, Ursula. As soon as she dialed 911, help would be on the way. They’d stitch her up in the ER, maybe sew her veins back together. The gashes went straight through to the bone, but it would give her some time.

She paused, gasping for breath. I’m not going to make it that far…

What other options did she have? Kester had used a healing spell after the fight with the moor fiend. A healing spell would get her, quite literally, on her feet.

Focus, Ursula. Could she recall the spell, like she had with the sigil spell in Club Lalique? Probably not. She’d been unconscious when he’d chanted it over. She closed her eyes, racking her brain. Maybe it was somewhere in that procedural memory of hers. But, she had nowhere to begin.