“There’s not time,” Saina replied mournfully.
Wrench groaned. He was drooling uncontrollably.
Ally sobbed.
“What is going on?”
Four heads swiveled to see Scarlet, standing at the entrance to the courtyard. “Wrench!” she said in alarm. “What happened to him?” She didn’t comment on Ally’s presence.
“A cobra bite,” Bastian said mournfully, indicating the swollen limb.
Wrench gave a moan and arched in Lydia’s arms. She clung to him, weeping. “Hold on, Wrench,” she begged. “You can’t leave me.”
“Can you help him?” Scarlet asked Saina unexpectedly. Why would she ask Saina?
“Me?” Saina squeaked.
“You were able to sing the goldshot out of Bastian, can you do the same with a neurotoxin?”
Saina blinked at her. “That was different. Bastian was my mate and my magic doesn’t seem to work on other people’s mates… I don’t know if I can do it with Wrench.” She swallowed. “But I’ll try.”
Lydia had no idea what they were talking about. Singing? Goldshot? Magic? Wrench was writhing in her arms; it took all of her strength to keep him from hitting wildly out and she was barely following the con
versation.
“You can’t leave me,” Lydia repeated, mouth close to his ear. “You can’t go before I tell you how much I love you.”
He was growling incoherently—it might have been her name or Ally’s that he was trying to say, foaming at the mouth.
Bastian was holding down his thrashing legs, Scarlet was kneeling beside Lydia to help hold down Wrench’s arms, and then Saina was singing, softly at first, then with rising intensity.
Lydia felt like she was at the edges of a rushing river, the sound of the siren’s voice tugging at her, trying to pull the very essence of her soul from her body.
Chapter 33
Wrench was adrift in an ocean of the worst parts of himself.
Perhaps this death was for the best, he thought suddenly. If he was gone, the people he loved would be safe at last. He would never have to relive the terrible things he had done, never wonder who had unwillingly suffered from the work that he had taken.
He just hadn’t expected death to hurt this much.
Every nerve ending was on fire, as if he’d been dipped in acid. It felt like his skeleton was being bent into impossible shapes by his spasming muscles. His panther screamed ceaselessly in his head, a harmony to the creak of his bones giving out.
You can’t leave me, Lydia whispered in his ear, and he could feel her arms around him.
They hurt.
Everything hurt.
She’d be better off without him.
You can’t leave me, Lydia repeated fiercely.
It would be the best thing I’ve ever done, Wrench thought, and he let go, ready for the oblivion at the end of the pain.
Only to be yanked back by a thread of music.
The unexpected song, he realized after a moment of agony, had a very specific pull. It wasn’t aimed at him, exactly, but at the thread of poison that had wrapped into every fiber of his being.