Bileth forced her hand to her throat. She strained against his magic, her arm shaking. The shard pierced her neck, and pain ripped through her skin. She whimpered, concentrating on the magic that invaded her mind like a noxious ink. She needed to master her fear, to shove this magic out before he forced her to slit her own throat. She shivered, trying to push his poison from her body.

Nearby, Caine’s tingly aura grew stronger, filling the room. It caressed her injured hand and healed the gaping wound. With a tremendous force of will, she cut a glance his way, watching as he ripped himself free from Bileth’s magic. His body blazed with his pearly aura. In a split second, his knife pressed against Bileth's throat. At that moment, Bileth’s magic completely snapped from her mind.

Caine’s eyes—dark as an abyss, glinting with an ancient violence—sent a shiver up her spine.

His voice came out low and steady. “You know I hate to argue with you, Bileth. But she’s a mage.”

Bileth’s body vibrated with barely contained rage. “Then where is her aura?”

“I’m not allowing her to use magic now. She was getting out of control.”

“And yet I smell the god of blood. You’re attacking me to save a Hunter?”

Rage bloomed in her chest. The way Bileth had controlled her body filled her with intense loathing, and she wanted to hurt him.

Right now, the demon’s attention was on Caine. She needed to help the incubus anyway. If anything happened to him, she’d be responsible for his death.

With a racing pulse, she leapt onto the oak bar, then jumped for one of the chandeliers. She kicked her legs, swinging in a wide arc. As the air charged with Caine’s nocturnal magic, she propelled herself to the next chandelier, clutching at the silver. Below, the vamps hissed.

“Rosalind,” Caine shouted. “I told you to run.”

Blazing candles tumbled to the ground, and hot wax spilled on her skin as she swung from one chandelier to the next, toward the fireplace. What the hell was my game plan?

With an enraged snarl, Bileth ripped himself free from Caine’s grasp. “Hunter!”

The scent of rotting hemlock drew closer, Bileth’s blood-red magic curling around her skin. Panic punched a hole in her chest. He wasn’t fighting Caine anymore. He was coming for her.

She jumped to the ground, grabbing the silver poker. Hot anger burned through her, and she whirled. She threw it in a high arc as he lunged for her, and it pierced the center of his chest.

The demon froze, gripping the metal. He opened his mouth, and the chorus of shrieks that emerged from his throat turned her blood to ice. There wasn’t enough time to consider how proud Josiah would be, because her attack had stoked the vampires’ fury.

As she leapt over a table, Jorge jumped for her. She ducked, bringing her fist up into his groin. With a twist of her body, she kicked him into the fireplace. As she did, another vamp grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back with a sharp snap. But the attack was short lived. Something had stopped the vampires.