“Bran?” Riley shouted.
“He said to get here, stay here,” Sasha shouted back, sent a bolt through one creature that continued through another. “And he’d—”
For an instant, the light blinded. It carried a flood of heat, a burn of power that scorched the air. What died didn’t have the chance to scream.
Overhead the sky bloomed blue again.
Shaken more than she liked, Riley bent over, br
aced her hands on her thighs as she caught her breath.
“You’re hurt.” Annika hugged arms around her.
“No. Just a couple of nicks.”
Though it did no good, she protested when Doyle yanked her sweatshirt off her shoulder, studied the wound. “A graze.”
“Like I said.” She jerked the shirt back in place.
“They swarmed you.” Sasha lowered her bow, looked back as Bran strode toward them. “I didn’t realize it until it was nearly too late.”
“Quantity over quality, that’s what I was thinking.” Sawyer swiped a splatter of blood from his cheek. “Enough to keep us busy, but on the weak side.”
“Yeah.” Riley nodded. “I thought the same. Then the wind picked me up, tossed me—like getting slapped by a tornado. A couple hundred of them banked toward me.” She snarled out a breath. “She knew I’d been hurt, figured I was the weak sister. Well, fuck that.”
“We were too far away to help.” Annika rubbed Riley’s arm. “If Doyle hadn’t been closer, if he hadn’t . . .”
Realizing she still held her gun in an iron grip, Riley made herself holster it, look at him. “Yeah. Thanks for the assist.”
“All in a day’s.”
His eyes said something different, she thought, something not so cool and dismissive. She kept hers locked with his as Bran checked her shoulder.
She heard him speak, didn’t register the words. He and the others might have stepped into another world. Hers raced, pumped with adrenaline and lust.
Doyle gripped her arm, said, “Now.”
She sheathed her knife. “Now.”
She moved with him toward the house. Apparently she didn’t move fast enough to suit him, as he plucked her off the ground. Since that was fine with her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, dragged his head down to hers.
“Oh.” Delighted, Annika hugged her arms. “They’re going to have very good sex.”
Sasha watched Doyle carry Riley up the terrace steps. “Shouldn’t we treat her wounds before . . .”
Bran simply took her hand. “She’ll be fine for now. Let’s get cleaned up, have a beer, and let them . . . tend each other for the moment.”
“Clean up. Good idea.” Sawyer grabbed Annika’s hand.
“Oh, we’re going to have sex, too.”
Laughing, Bran wrapped his arms around Sasha. “Sounds brilliant,” he said, and winked her straight up to bed.
Doyle ignored the bed. The minute he kicked the terrace door closed, he spun
around, slapped Riley’s back to the wall.
“No frills, you said.”