He snarled something in another language, tightening his arm around my neck until large, wavering black spots began to eat at my vision. I struggled desperately for air, both hands clawing at his arm, but it was like he was made of steel.

Cyrene screamed as István pulled her off Pál, flinging her halfway across the patio. She slammed into a glass and metal table, cracking her head on the edge with a horrible gut-wrenching sound, her body falling limp to the ground.

Adrenaline spiked my blood at the sight of my twin lying in a growing pool of her own blood. I twisted away from Pál, but István caught me before I could reach Cyrene. Angling my head, I clamped my teeth over István’s arm, biting down and throwing myself backward at the same time. István yelled, slamming his free hand down on my head as I slid out of his grip.

‘‘What’s going on out here?’’ a woman’s voice asked. ‘‘Who’s . . . good god! Is that Jim?’’

I swung a metal chair at Pál as he leaped for me, István lunging at the same time. There was a flash of black, and I was slammed up against the stone side of the house, the furious green eyes of a dragon burning straight through to my soul.

‘‘What do you think you are doing?’’ the dragon asked in a more menacing tone than I’d ever heard from anyone who wasn’t a demon lord. Over his shoulder I could see István advancing toward Cyrene’s inert form. I didn’t have time to explain what had happened to the demon—I knew that bastard would do something more to harm her. Without thinking, I wrapped my hands around the dragon’s arms and swung both my legs up to kick him in the chest. He was knocked backward into a couple of chairs, falling with a crash of metal and glass. I raced toward Cyrene, screaming, ‘‘If you touch her again, I’ll kill you!’’

The woman spoke a couple of words, and I stopped, rooted to the ground by a binding ward just a few feet away from Cyrene. István had reached her and was hauling her upward, her head lolling at an unnatural angle. I screamed again and shadowed, slipping out of the ward to leap onto István.

I heard the woman gasp. ‘‘Good lord! Did she just disappear—’’

Before I could reach István, I was knocked off my feet onto the grass a good ten feet away. I shadowed again, trying to roll out from under my assailant, but the man pinned me down with a knee on my back, his grip on my shoulders pressing me into the grass.

‘‘Stop fighting,’’ he said in my ear. ‘‘You will only harm yourself and your friend if you continue this.’’

‘‘If you hurt her again, I’ll—’’