As she poured the whiskey into the furrows of Emerazel’s sigil, she chanted the words she’d learned the first night she’d met Kester. At the last word, flames engulfed her, burning her body to cinders.

Moments later, she was hunched over on her hands and knees in Kester’s boat, coughing. Dammit, why can’t I remember to hold my breath?

Only moonlight lit the inside of the boat. The cold stove stood in the center of the room, its fire now dead. As the sigil flames cooled around her, she caught Kester’s scent—his warm, cedar smell, and her heart ached.

Her jaw tightened. There was no time for sentiment now. She had a mission to accomplish. But before she could rise, she saw the blade of a sword coming right for her head.

Chapter 34

She leapt away, hitting the floor hard and rolling behind the bookshelf they’d moved earlier. Somewhere on the other side of the cabin, her attacker chanted in Angelic—a spell for light—and a luminescent orb appeared in the center of the room. So much for hiding in shadows.

Kester had told her not to enter a fight unless she had a good chance of winning, so she wanted to get an idea of exactly who she’d be fighting. From her position, peeking around the bookshelf’s edge, she could see his outline glinting in the orb light. Armor—fae armor. She’d killed one fae tonight. She’d kill another if she had to.

The fae soldier’s heels clacked over the boards, and she reached over her shoulder to unsheathe Honjo, stepping out from behind the bookshelf.

The man had long, honeyed hair, and his handsome face split into a wide grin. His suit of armor was ornate complete with silver vambraces to protect his forearms. “Looking for a fight, little girl?”

“Yes, unless you want to take this opportunity to piss off, which I strongly suggest. For your own benefit,” she added, for emphasis. She was going to have to work on her sword fighting smack-talk.

Laughter danced in his eyes, but in the next moment, his face hardened, telegraphing an imminent strike.

Ursula parried gracefully, knocking his sword into one of the wooden bookcases. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I already killed one of your brothers tonight. What’s one more?”

The guard ignored her, yanking his sword free with a growl.

His movement left an opening, and with a flick of her wrist, she slid her blade between his hand and the vambrace, slicing his skin. He grimaced, and she pulled away her blood-stained sword. “I did warn you.”

“My orders are to bring you to Oberon. Dead or alive.”