I repress the urge to gather Sabelle in my arms. She’d neither welcome nor allow it. I itch to touch her anyway, to pull her against my chest where I can shield her properly. But a Rykard can never touch a Rion. Not ever, especially since she’s warming Lucan’s bed.
Sabelle has thrown on a pair of jeans and a creamy white sweater that stretches snugly across her breasts every time she shoves something into a nearby black backpack. “I’m ready.”
“The Doomsday Diary?”
She points to the bag as she tosses it over one shoulder and darts past me, dashing down the hall.
As I race to catch up, another blast hits the house. The floor tilts sideways, and Sabelle nearly stumbles. I catch her around the waist and try guiding her toward the stairs. Instead, she rips from my grasp and sprints in the opposite direction.
What the hell?
I chase after her. “We must leave now!”
“Not without my brother,” she calls over her shoulder.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest leaving the imperious bastard to rot, but Sabelle would waste valuable time both arguing and carting Bram downstairs. The longer she stays in this house, the greater the danger. Surely, she sees that.
For the pampered princess I assumed she would be, she’s not putting herself first.
“Bloody hell,” I mutter, on her heels.
She pushes inside the last room to the left. Heavy curtains, dark wood, and luxurious damasks are a study in wealth. Clearly, this is Bram’s room. I don’t spare the time or energy to voice my annoyance at the extravagant waste.
With a flick of her delicate finger, Sabelle uses her magic to levitate her brother. If she’s determined to evacuate him, it will be easier—and conserve her magical energy—if I sling the prat over my shoulder.
As I catch her elbow, I rush past her and hoist Bram’s dead weight into a fireman’s carry. I could levitate the bastard with magic, but we might need every ounce of magical energy we have—and I’d rather haul his dead weight than risk having to seduce his precious sister for a recharge of power.
She gapes. “Are you trying to kill him? He’s very ill and?—”
“And if we don’t get the hell out of here, the Anarki will finish him off.” I seize her hand and charge out of the room. Her fingers instinctively curl around mine, soft yet strong. “Let’s go!”
Another boom resounds, much closer. Again, the whole house shakes.
Halfway down the stairs, the front door begins to groan and heave intermittently under the magical equivalent of a battering ram. Collectively, the Anarki throws energy at the house as one, trying to shatter the last of its magical protections. All too soon, they’ll succeed.
Outside, a sea of voices chant. It sounds as if Mathias’s entire fucking army is here, and the Doomsday Brethren will be lucky to get out alive. I hardly care if I don’t, but Sabelle… She matters. Magickind needs her and the Doomsday Diary to remain safe.
At the bottom of the stairs, I shove her toward the back door. “Have the Anarki surrounded the house?”
Fear rims her gorgeous blue eyes, but she bravely creeps to the windows as another rattling boom shakes the house. She’s everything worthy in a female, and if I had more time—if my opinion mattered—I’d tell her so.
Instead, I unload Bram’s unconscious form to the floor, then take up a defensive position by the front door to face the imminent, pounding threat, determined to provide Sabelle a shield to escape if the worst happens.
Marrok, Olivia, and Tynan race down the stairs. With a glance, Marrok sends Olivia to crouch beside Sabelle. The once-immortal warrior and Tynan line up beside me to face the threat seconds away from crashing through our door.
“Clear back there?” I shout.
Duke stumbles from Bram’s office and yells over the invasion. “I’ve alerted the Council that we’re under attack.”
Why? Old curmudgeons won’t do a damn thing, but Duke’s belief in the nobility of the ruling class is understandable, given his title and background.
“Where are Lucan and Caden?” Duke barks at me.
I shrug. My sole focus is to secure this door long enough for Sabelle to make it out alive with the book.
“No Anarki behind the house,” Sabelle shouts.
Hardly means they aren’t there. They could be concealed, but if the rest of the Doomsday Brethren and I wait much longer to take the women and flee, the Anarki will surround us. Escape will be impossible.
