But there was nothing to be done. Just as Sahvage had been held in place before—

Moaning in her throat, Mae squeezed her eyes closed. She had killed him. Not intentionally, but her actions had created the situation that had led to his demise.

This was all her fault. And she’d never had a chance to apologize . . . or tell him that she loved him. She had ruined his life all because of her selfish quest for power over death.

Lifting her lids, she focused on the demon. The brunette was smiling as the smoke swirled around her, the Book that had started it all clasped against her—

From out of the billowing gray swirls, a figure emerged.

A figure that made no sense.

Sahvage? Mae thought. How was this possible?

But it was him—although maybe he wasn’t real. Maybe he was just a figment of her desperate, dying brain.

“Well, my job is done here,” the demon said. “And as much as I’d like to hang around and watch the barbeque, I’ve got spells of my own to—”

With a battle cry that shook the house, Sahvage—or the mirage of him—threw his arms around the demon. Before the brunette could react, he bared his fangs and sank them into the side of her throat.

As the demon screamed, the flames that had found purchase around the house exploded into full-blown fires, the inferno redoubling.

Still latched on, Sahvage dragged the demon back to where the flames were the strongest, the fire burning the brightest. The brunette, meanwhile, fought and kicked, clawing and biting at the hold that was upon her.

Just as Sahvage disappeared into the blaze, his eyes locked on Mae.

“I’m sorry!” she screamed. “I love you!”

And then he was gone.

“No!” Mae cried out. “Sahvage!”

As she started to weep, she tried to peel herself free of the hold. But there was no budging, no getting away, as the house became an oven and every breath she took burned her lungs.

She was going to die.

Even if the human fire department came, it was going to be too late for her. Too late. Too late—

Mae.

Just as she was losing consciousness, she heard her name. Forcing her lids up, she—

“Rhoger?”

The fire was loud now, the crackling and popping and creaking of beams and walls so deafening that she didn’t know whether her voice carried. Then again, like the image of Sahvage, was she really seeing her brother right now? And he was not alone.

Tallah was standing right next to him.

The two of them were holding hands, and the yellow and orange flickering cast them in a strobing light that was, in a strange way, heavenly. In the face of the heat, they were somehow unaffected, their clothing unburned, their hair not on fire.

They just stared at her, their expressions saintly with peace.

All will be well, Rhoger said.

Okay, not that she wanted to argue with the ghost of her brother during her last moments on earth—but they did not agree on the definition of that term. Nothing was well—

The vision of the pair of her loved ones was shattered, the mirage broken apart by a male dressed in black.

Her first thought was that her fantasy Sahvage had come back again, but then no, it wasn’t him. This was a fighter, though.

A goateed fighter with a pair of black daggers strapped, handles down, to his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he said in a commanding voice.

“No, no, I’m trapped—”

All at once, the hold on her disappeared, and as she dropped forward, he caught her and swung around.

“Sahvage!” she yelled over the din. “Sahvage is down there!”

The soldier glanced to the hall. “No one can survive in there! I have to save you!”

They were both having to scream to be heard, and as he started rushing them away, she clawed to get free. Even though she knew he was right. Nothing could live in that kiln, and her love had been dead before it started.

Even a demon couldn’t survive back there. Which had to be why her body was no longer imprisoned.

“Sahvage,” she moaned.

As all of her strength left her, the Brother broke out into the garage, nailed the opener with a punch, and the instant fresh air barged into the concrete space, she saw the other males who had lined up in the driveway.

She tried to focus through her sudden delirium.

“He took the demon,” she told the Brother with the goatee. “Sahvage came back to life somehow, and he took the demon into the flames. He saved me . . . he saved all of us.”

Sirens now. Loud sirens.

Humans were coming.

“We’re going to take good care of you,” the Brother told her. “Just stay with me, true?”

Staring over her shoulder, she saw her parents’ house on fire, the flames spasming behind every window there was, the smoke curling out of holes that had formed in the roof.

Utter destruction.

Nothing left behind.

Just as she was put into the RV she recognized from before, she saw the red bubbling lights of the first of the fire trucks.

The double doors were closed, cutting off the sight of the humans come to rescue that which could not be saved.

As the RV’s engine roared and things lurched forward, she realized there was another male sitting off to the side on a bench. One of his ankles was bound in an Ace bandage, and he had the whole leg elevated up on a wad of white blankets.

He was staring at her.

“What happened?” he said as the male with the goatee secured her body on the table with a series of straps.

“I lost the male I love,” she mumbled even though he hadn’t been talking to her. “I lost him before I ever got to tell him how I feel.”

And that was the last thing she remembered.

At Luchas House, Nate was lounging next to Elyn on the sofa. His laptop was open on her—well, lap, as it were—and she was searching a names database of the species. Across the way, up on the TV mounted over the fireplace, Stranger Things, season two, was playing.

As Elyn shut the computer sharply, he looked over. “Nothing?”

She didn’t answer. She just stared at the floor.

When he breathed in and smelled fresh rain, he frowned and sat up. “Elyn, you’re crying.”

She put her hands to her face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry . . .”

“What? Tell me. Tell me what’s going on.”

With a shudder, she seemed to try to pull herself together. And when she looked at him next, her silver eyes glittered in a way that made him sit back.

The light in them was . . . shimmering. Like they were basins of illumination, rather than anything conventional that the female simply looked out of.

“I’ve lied to you,” she said quietly. “I haven’t . . .”

“What.”

“I don’t belong here.”

“Luchas House is meant to help people just like you—”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“Caldwell, then?”

“This present time. This was all a mistake. A huge mistake.”

Elyn put the laptop aside and got up. Pacing around, she looked into the kitchen.

“We’re alone,” he said roughly. “You can talk freely. Shuli and the others won’t be back for another half hour.”