The fanatical light burned like torches in his eyes. “It should have been you.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It will be.” He threw his head back. “Strike me down with your sword, demon whore. I give my life for the god of Abraham. Shed my blood on your demonic altar, rend my flesh for your hell beasts to feast on. I will walk in the kingdom while you burn in the fire.”

“That’s a lot of drama,” Fallon said with a hint of amusement that had White’s eyes glinting. “We don’t execute prisoners, have any demonic altars. We sure don’t feast on human flesh. You’re going to have to settle for prison.”

She felt it, in a snap of an instant, the quick pulse of dark power. And in that instant, threw out her hands to meet it.

Black met white with a force that set the ground to quaking. The bonds fell away, White’s face and form fell away.

Allegra sneered as she rose.

“You fool. Eric killed White years ago. We took turns wearing his face, leading his idiots against you. And you never saw.”

“I see now.” All the beauty gone with no power to spare to disguise the scars that ruined the face, the thin wisps of gray that exposed most of the raw, ridged scalp.

“Too late.” And on tattered wings, Allegra flew up, slicing bolts of fire. “I’ll be back with an army, finish you.”

“It’s not,” Fallon murmured, as she and others extinguished the weak flames before they hit the ground. “And you won’t.”

Wings spread, as silver as her sword. Fallon rose up on them, drew Allegra’s fire.

“Only dark magicks, blood sacrifice bring the wings to the witch.”

“You’re wrong,” Fallon said. “Again.” She blocked the bolts, held her own fire. Allegra was weak, she thought, obviously unable to draw the strength to flash. And not a little mad. “Pull back your power. Surrender and live.”

“The dark protects me, with the blood of the legions shed in its name. Your light dims against it.” She swiped at Fallon again. “You destroyed the father of my child, you gave her pain. Now watch the bitch who whelped you burn.”

She used all she had to draw up a torrent of flame. She sneered down at Lana, drove that torrent toward the ground.

“No!” With power pumped by fear, Fallon pulled the storm of flame back. And threw up her shield to deflect it, felt the storm of heat lash out as it engulfed Allegra.

One shriek, sliced off short, then there was nothing. Just nothing.

On the ground, Arlys gripped a trembling hand on Chuck’s arm. “Tell me you got that.”

“Yeah.” Though it shook a little, he kept his scavenged and rebuilt video camera on Fallon as she landed softly, folded in those silver wings. “I got it. I need a really big drink.”

“We’ll both have one when we check the footage.” She stepped forward to stand with Lana. “Did you know she could do that? You know, fly?”

“No. I knew she had all magicks in her, but … We’ll have to talk. Eric, now Allegra.” Lana reached for Simon’s hand. He’d stood beside her even as the fire spewed down. “Both here, where they killed Max.”

“It’s justice.”

“Yeah.” Steady and sure, Lana brought his hand to her lips. “It’s justice.”

People wanted to stay and talk, to Fallon, to each other. Apparently, she noted, Duncan wasn’t one of them.

She embraced her family.

“So, wings,” Colin commented. “They’re the bop.”

“The what?”

“It’s an expression I’m trying out. It’s going to catch on.”

“No,” Travis corrected.

“Wait and see. Let’s round up the troops, get them back to the barracks. I’m due in Arlington tomorrow.” With set teeth, focused effort, he lifted his arm, closed his leathered hand into a fist, and tapped Fallon’s shoulder. “Nice work.”

“I need to help with the horses.” But Ethan came in for another hug first. “She was lost, and couldn’t be saved.”

“I know.”

“She tried to call for Petra, but she couldn’t pull enough power. If she’d stopped trying to kill you, kill Mom, she could have. But she couldn’t stop. Glad you’re back,” he added, and moved off.

“Think about Petra another time,” Simon advised. “If and when she comes, we’ll be ready. I’m going to help Will with the prisoners.”

“And I’ll help with the injured.” Lana brushed a hand on Fallon’s cheek. “There’s chicken left from dinner at home if you’re hungry.”

“I’ll get to it.”

Then Lana laid her cheek to Fallon’s, whispered, “Go find him.”

“I will.” But she turned to Mallick first.

“You put the last weeks to good use.”

“I traveled, and studied, and grieved. I needed to. I went to Wales because I wanted to see where you were born. That’s where I found my wings.”

“I didn’t mean the wings. They were never lost, only waiting. You would have spared her life. Even when she left you without a choice, you didn’t take her life in vengeance. You put your time away to good use.”

He frowned at some dried blood on his sleeve, brushed it away like lint. “The boy, however, spent most of his brooding. I’m for a glass of wine and my bed.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow. There’s still work to be done.”

Since she couldn’t find Duncan, she searched out Tonia.

“Excellent wings. Want a beer?”

“Not yet, thanks. I—”

“He went to help with the prisoners. Too many of them for the usual, so he suggested using Howstein’s barn, putting a lockdown spell on it, doing a sleep trance on the DUs until we can start transporting them tomorrow.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“He has a few.” Tonia’s MacLeod blue eyes softened. “He missed the hell out of you, Fallon. Go a little easy on him.”

“I’m more hoping he goes a little easy on me.”

She decided it was only fair to talk to him, if he was willing to talk, on his turf. So after the town bedded down for the night, she sat on the curb outside of his house to wait. He’d come back eventually.

It occurred to her she’d never done this, just sat in the quiet of New Hope. The fact that it could and did settle in again after a night of attacks, bloodshed, violence, illustrated its resilience.

It served, to her mind, as an illustration of the resilience of the spirit, of the unity forged by community.

Illuminated now by only moon and starlight, it slept. Parents had checked on their children, soothed them into dreams. Lovers shared beds. In the clinic, medicals watched over the sick or wounded.

The schools held dark, waiting for morning when instructors and students would file in. With the sun, shops and services would begin the day. The farms would stir awake, the community kitchen would smell of coffee and cooking.

There could be peace after war, she thought. There could be normality after nightmares.

And, she knew, there could be solace after the grieving. Renewal after doubt.

Hope after despair.

She heard the sound of the engine, the muscular roar through the quiet. Driving fast, she thought, driving home. And stood to meet him on her feet.

Like the first time she’d seen him, in dreams, with his hair blowing in the wind. But he’d been a boy then. The one who swerved the bike to the curb, cut the engine, swung off to face her was a man.

She’d considered a dozen ways to start this conversation, and at the sticking point tossed them all aside and said what came first. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t approach her, but stood as he was. “For what?”

“For leaving when you wanted me to stay, when you needed more from me than I could find in me to give. For staying away longer than I’d said I would. And for blocking you out while I was gone, even though I knew it would hurt you.”

“I know why you left, or thought you had to.”

His voice carried calm—he didn’t put a bite or snap in it.

“I figure there’s a reason you didn’t come back when you said you would. I don’t get why you blocked me. I don’t get that, and yeah, you hurt me.”

“I blocked you because I was afraid if I let you in, even for a minute, I’d come back.”

More than a bite snapped out now. “Fuck that. I wouldn’t have pushed you.”

“No. I’m not supposed to say it’s me, not you,” she reminded him, “but it was. I’d have come back before I was ready because I wanted to be with you, and wanted the comfort you’d have given me. I needed you more than I needed to find my resolve again.”

She lifted her hands, helplessly. “My faith and real purpose, lost in grief and a need for revenge. I lost it with Mick, and I had to find it again. I had to, Duncan, or I’d never be able to do what needs to be done. Everything I wanted was here. You, my family, my friends. If I hadn’t left all of that, I’m not sure I’d have found what I needed inside myself to fight again. Or to lead again.”

“Did you find it?”

“I did. But I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I worried my family and friends. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

“That’s a lot of sorry.”

“I have more if you need it.”

Studying her face, he shrugged. “That might be enough.”

And in two strides, grabbed her, dragged her in, took what he really needed.

“Oh, thank the goddess,” she murmured and locked herself around him. “Come with me. Will you come with me?”

Without waiting for an answer, she flashed.

The light shimmered, pale green with the sparkling blink of pixies dancing. A pond spread, pure, clear as glass, with moonlight filtering through trees to spill across it. Mists, thin fingers of silver, rose from the water. The air, warm and sweet, held still.