It took seconds in a whirling kick that seemed to punch them out of the water and onto the floor of the villa.
“Holy shit, Sawyer.”
A little wide-eyed himself, he grinned at Riley. “What a rush! Rock-in-a-slingshot time. It must’ve been the star. Swear to God it wasn’t me.”
“It’s so beautiful.” Annika looked down at it, glinting, glimmering, madly blue in her hand.
Sawyer looked down as well, not only at the star, but at Annika who sat, tail curled under her, on the floor.
“You may want to, you know, change. And—” He grabbed her dress. “Put this on.”
“Oh, yes, I forgot. It lives. It breathes.” She offered it up to Sawyer.
And it pulsed, without mass, but warm and real in his hands. “Whoa, I’ll say. Over to you.”
As Bran took it, Annika rose on her legs, shimmied into her dress. As Bran had with the Fire Star, he shielded it in a clear globe. “To protect, to respect, to shield, to hold.”
“We should do it quickly. She knows.”
With a nod at Sasha, Bran crossed to the painting. The rest gathered around him, washed in that blue light. “As before, we each lay a hand on the globe, all say the words. To protect this bright water, this pure light, I send it safe where no eye can see, no hand can touch, no darkness shadow.”
Power shimmered, swirled
. The encased star pulsed its light, and that light spread over the house on the cliffs, turned the soft sky into brilliance. Then slipped into the painting. With a final flash of blue, it was gone.
“It’s quiet now,” Annika murmured. “And safe from her.”
“It will be safer—and stronger I think.” Bran held out a hand. The painting vanished. “Stronger now that two are together.”
“She’s fury.” Beside Bran, Sasha shuddered. “All fury and madness. She’ll rain fire, burn us to ash.”
“We should just go—you know—zip right to Ireland.” Glancing around, Riley shoved her wet hair back. “I’m always up for a fight, but this might be the time to retreat and regroup.”
“She’ll follow, and the fire rains there. It’s fire—I can feel the burn. It’s cold.”
“If it’s here or there, I want to take the shot.” In fact, Sawyer craved it. “I can buy us time, turn her around so she’ll have to find us again rather than just follow our trail. Either way, we need to suit up.”
Sawyer unstrapped the underwater gun. “And fight some fire with fire.”
“Fire with fire,” Bran agreed, but added a sharp smile, “and given all, I think, with water.”
“So we’re going to get hot and wet—sexual innuendo absolutely intended because, why not. Scuba gear under the pergola. I’ll have it picked up there.” Riley shrugged. “They already figure I’m way over-eccentric.”
Annika followed Sawyer to his old room where he’d left a change of clothes, his boots. His weapons. “She’s a god, Sawyer. She may not let you go.”
“I’m not going to give her a choice.”
“But she—”
“Listen.” He paused to take her shoulders, look into her eyes. “You need to trust me on this, like I trusted you in the cave. Okay, I had a minute of panic
when you went down, when I couldn’t see you.”
And it had taken Doyle and Bran together to hold him back.
“But I pulled it together. Because I knew you were doing what you were meant to do, had to do. And would do. I need you to trust me, to believe in me. I need that or I can’t do it.”
“If I believe, it helps you?”