There was a flash, a sound like a broken bell, and the pieces of the sword fell, tarnished and jagged, to the ground.

Oison opened his mouth and cried something in Fae, but he only got a few words out before Graham grabbed him by the neck again.

As Graham had done in his dream, he ripped his claws into Oison’s throat, no chain mail now to stop him. Hot blood poured out over Graham’s hands. Oison locked his fingers around Graham’s wrists, gasping for breath. The Fae gulped air and started chanting again, another spell, Graham knew.

Graham felt himself weakening, shifting back to human, whatever magic it was taking hold, but he refused to let go.

“Graham!” Misty, his mate, screamed. “Get out of the way!”

Graham saw her, and his eyes widened. He spun Oison around so his back would be to Misty, then Graham hit the ground as Misty, who’d grabbed Xavier’s gun, unloaded every bullet in it into the Fae.

Oison faltered, but he kicked away from Graham and ran for the opening to the cave. Bullets were lead, not iron, so while they’d slow him down, he could escape to Faerie and live.

Graham wouldn’t let him. He was on Oison in two strides, changing to wolf, bringing the Fae down flat on his back. He closed his mouth over Oison’s throat, biting down. Graham tasted blood, and saw the life leave Oison’s eyes.

Oison’s head lolled, blood coming from his mouth, then all at once, he looked straight up at Graham.

“It’s only the beginning,” he said clearly, then he died. His body crumpled, dissolving into dust.

Graham shifted slowly, painfully back to human. Misty dropped to her knees next to him, the gun falling from her hands.

“Graham . . .”

“It’s all right, Misty,” Graham said, barely able to form the words. “I got the son of a bitch.”

He collapsed into her arms, spent, but there was no place he’d rather be. The hot summer wind swept down from the ridge and carried the dust of Oison’s dead body into the vast open plain of the desert.

 • • •

"Dougal first,” Graham said.

The DX Security van they lay in rocked and swayed over the rutted roads back to Shiftertown.

“Graham, you have three sword holes in you,” Misty snapped. “And a reopened gunshot wound.” She clung to his hand, her heart slamming in her chest, not liking that Graham’s grip was so weak.

“And Dougal got stabbed, plus he’s got Collar fatigue.” Graham’s voice might not be up to his usual volume, but he’d held on to his strength of will.

“I’m better,” Dougal said. He sat up beside Graham, leaning against the van wall. “What hurt was the magic. Now that Oison’s gone, so is the spell.”

“No kidding.” Graham had his other hand around a bottle of water. He’d insisted on drinking, so happy to be able to again, though Andrea had joked it would all come out the holes if he didn’t quit.

“He’s not good.” Andrea said now. The slim woman put her hand on Graham’s bloody stomach. “Too much blood loss, too long under a spell, dehydration, exhaustion. All that on top of his wounds. I’m going to need a lot of help.”

“I’m here,” Sean said. He put his hand on his mate’s shoulder, his other on the hilt of his sword, which rested tip-first on the van’s floor.

“What can I do?” Misty asked, not liking the sword so near. She knew what the swords of the Guardians did—were used to release a Shifter’s soul when the Shifter didn’t make it. “There has to be something.”

Graham tried to squeeze her fingers. “You’ve done everything, love. You found me. Twice. You rescued me. Twice. You tased Oison, then you shot him.” He chuckled. “That was fun to watch.”

“Shut up, Graham.” Misty kissed his scraped and blackened cheek. “Save your strength.”

“You’re going to need it to heal,” Andrea told him. “Misty, the touch of a mate helps. Put your hand next to mine, and think about how much you love him.”

“She’s not my mate,” Graham rumbled.

The others in the van turned heads to look at Misty, and Xav glanced back over the front seat at them. Misty found herself pinned under Feline and Lupine stares, including those of the cubs.

“She never accepted the claim,” Graham said. “Sucks, but there it is.”

“What are you talking about?” Misty put her hand on Graham’s chest, feeling his heart beating hard and erratically beneath her fingers. “We argued about this, remember? You said I didn’t refuse.”

“But you didn’t accept, either.”

“Well, shit, Graham, I don’t know everything there is to know about Shifter rituals. I’m going out with a man who doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Hey, don’t blame this on me, sweetheart—”

Dougal broke in. “Misty, you say, ‘Under the Father God and Mother Goddess, and in front of witnesses, I accept the mate-claim.’”

“See?” Misty glared at Graham. “Would that have been so hard?” She took a deep breath and spoke quickly. “Under the Father God and Mother Goddess, and in front of witnesses, I accept the mate-claim.”

“Oh, yeah.” Graham grasped her hand again and squeezed it. “I feel better already.”

The mood in the van lightened. Andrea’s face softened into a smile, and Dougal whooped. Even Reid, in the front with Xav, gave Misty a quiet nod. Sean grinned, and Xav gave them all a thumbs-up as he kept driving.