24
Azrail lurched across the dirty living room, but not fast enough to stop Maia as she jumped through the air and into the tarnished mirror. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as the silver sucked her in, swallowing all traces of her.
"Why did you let go of her?" he demanded of Jaro. "Youknewshe'd jump in there after him."
"I..." Jaro swallowed, shaking his head, flexing his hands. "I-I don't know."
Azrail growled a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. He was going after her, there was no question of that, but he had to keep everyone else safe, too.
"Stay here," he growled at Kheir, letting his dominance slip out. "Jaro, Bryon, search the house, see what traces you can find of this soldier. He's experienced with magic if he transformed a mirror into a portal, so he could be hidden somewhere else in the house."
"He's gone," Kheir said, lifting a finger to point at the mirror.
Az swore, turning in time to seeBryonof all people get sucked into the glass. Azrail leapt for Jaro and grabbed his friend before he could follow Maia into the mirror, too.
"Let me go," Jaro rasped, struggling in Azrail's hold. "I have to. I can't let her down again."
"You didn't let her down," Azrail said, too much of a growl in his voice—enough to make Kheir wince beside them. "I need you safe," he admitted, softening his growl. "Stay here."
"Az, I can't," Jaro replied, raw. His green eyes were bright with emotion—worry and fear and self-loathing.
The need to protect him choked off Azrail's air supply. "I will go into there," he said fiercely, stabbing a finger at the mirror, "and get our mate back. I swear to you. Iswear, Jaro. Stay here, stay safe.Please," he added, aware he was begging.
Jaro was watching him in a way that stripped Azrail bare, some new understanding in his eyes. Az prayed it was about something—anything—but what he feared.
"Vow it," Jaro forced out, struggling with the decision he'd made.
"As a fae of honour, I vow to bring our mate safely out of that mirror," Az said gravely, not hesitating to bind his promise in magic. It tingled across the roof of his mouth and down his tongue, the sharp taste of magic filling his senses.
Jaro nodded and took a shaky breath. "Don't let her get hurt. Please."
"I won't," Az swore, laying a hand over his heart. He met Kheir's eyes and ordered, "Keep him safe."
Kheir dipped his head in the barest acknowledgement. "We'll search the house for the soldier."
Az sucked in a fortifying breath and backed up to the far end of the room, apprehension skittering down his arms as he leapt into a run and threw himself into the cold magic of the mirror.
It sucked at his skin like the greedy mouth of a sea creature, spitting him out into a dusty wasteland as if it found him distasteful. Azrail landed as nimbly as he could when he’d been launched ten feet from the air, rolling into the impact. He expected his clothes to be covered in goop, but the mirror had left him dry.
He barely managed to get his bearings with the world tilting around him before a furious, deafening rumble had him throwing up an instinctive shield. The earth responded eagerly, as if it had been waiting to be used, and dusty dirt blasted up from beneath him, forming a wall.
What the chasm was growling? It sounded massive, like a collapsing building.
"Maia? Bryon?" he shouted, scanning the cracked ground for his mate and friend. And for monsters while he was at it; that growl had sounded fae, but it could easily have been a beast attempting to harm his family. "Maia!"
He sent a rush of earth spearing from the ground, the smoke of his darker magic twining through it. He had no idea what it became when both powers mixed, still didn't understand how his bark dagger had stopped the golden fae when nothing else had. Did they answer to the saints? Did they fear them?
"Come on, sweetheart," he pleaded under his breath, lifting a hand to shield his eyes as he looked at the empty, dusty land. It stank heavily, like bags of rubbish baking under the sun, and for a fae with an advanced sense of smell, it was hell.
Maybe itwashell—maybe this was the chasm his saint ruled over. Azrail groaned, wondering when the nameless saint was going to speak to him again, wondering what the saint would have to say about how royally he'd fucked up his relationship with his mate.
"I fixed it," he reminded himself, and shouted, "Maia!"
A fae male snarl answered him instead, and he spun, searching the dusty plain for the source.
"Shit," he hissed, wrenching magic up from his core as he launched across the ground to where shadows wheeled through the sky. Air split and thundered, letting a crack of light blast into two of the shadows.
Bryon was fighting. But where was Maia’s power?Saints, let her be okay.