His hands clamped down on her hips, then swept her off her feet as he kissed the daylights out of her. Morgan shivered at his strength, the warmth of his muscles pressed deliciously against hers sent her head spinning, and she couldn’t resist sinking her fingers in his shaggy brown hair. When he gently lowered her and pulled away, Morgan blinked, nearly whimpering before snuggling into his arms as she struggled to understand what just happened.
At his grunt, she jumped back, remembering his broken ribs. “Sorry.”
“I’m not.” Instead of letting her escape, he gave her one last squeeze, then set her away from him. His face was flushed, his breathing erratic, his eyes wild as he stared at her hungrily. He certainly was getting over his aversion to being touched, and she shivered again as she imagined what it would be like when he really lost control.
“Was your mission successful?” Ward broke the moment when he spoke, not really seeming surprised to see they’d survived.
Morgan blushed. She’d totally forgotten they had an audience.
“I’m not sure.” She cleared her throat and glanced at Shade to see him staring blankly down at his hands, looking as dazed as she felt. “Shade?”
“I’m mortal.” He lifted his head and looked at her, his expression completely stunned.
“What?” All the blood drained from her head. “How?”
“The transfer through the gate…” His violet blue eyes darkened, and he touched the binding mark on his chest. “Something must have gone wrong, a possible toll that must be paid.”
Horror spread through Morgan when the meaning of what he said sank into her. “I never intended to take your immortality.”
“No one lives forever, even immortals.” Shade gave her a grim smile. “You might be powerful, but I doubt even you have the ability to steal someone’s godhood. I’m alive—it’s more than I expected yesterday.”
Morgan didn’t know what to believe. No god would ever be so forgiving. Even if it wasn’t her fault, she inadvertently played a part in his downfall. “What do you want?”
“I want to fulfill my part of the bargain.” He strode toward her, and Morgan barely resisted the urge to back away, half expecting him to take her head. “If I don’t complete my side of the deal, I could be hauled back to Tartarus.”
“What do we need to do to stop the terraforming?” She followed him toward the gate. The guys must have sensed her unease and remained close on her heels.
“You need to re-set the seal.”
Morgan hesitated, wondering if this might be a trick in order to finish breaking the seal and destroying the gates of hell completely. Gods were tricky. While he might be mortal now, his powers would return eventually, and he would be a demigod once more.
As if reading her thoughts, he gave her a cynical smile. “Unfortunately, being mortal has a nasty side effect. While I maintain a few of my powers, they’re not enough. That means you must do the heavy lifting. Only someone with the bloodlines of the gods has enough power to seal the gates permanently.”
That he could’ve told her at any time how to seal the gate smarted, but she was practical. No one would have given her the information without exacting a price. At least with Shade she could live with herself. “What do I need to do?”
“The gate requires your blood.” When he reached for the blade he had tucked against his back, the whole team shouted and leapt between them. Shade lifted his hands in surrender, but neither Kincade nor Draven lowered their weapons.
While they were distracted, Morgan called up her knife and sliced the blade deep into her palm. “What next?”
The men whirled. Kincade and Draven swore, Ryder and Ascher frowned, stepping protectively closer, while Atlas lingered near Shade, a weapon tucked tight against his leg, no doubt ready to slice his throat if the demigod dared to even breathe wrong.
“Touch your bloody palm to the sigils.”
Morgan blinked. “As simple as that?”
He raised a brow. “Not so simple. It will take sheer brute force magic to seal the gates. If you don’t have enough power, it will take your life as a sacrifice, too.”
Of course it would.
The gods never did anything by half measures.
She lifted her bloody hand when Kincade grabbed her wrist.
“We can use his blood.” He jerked his head toward Shade, and the rest of the guys were already in motion when she shook her head.
Shade’s eyes widened, a snarl curling his lips as he dropped into a fighter’s stance.
“No, he’s not strong enough. I’ve already taken enough from him, I won’t take his life as well.” Knowing the guys wouldn’t relent, she quickly stepped into Kincade’s space, and kneed him in the balls as hard as she could, still able to feel the hurt when he tried to force her to abandon them.
When he dropped, she whirled and slammed her palm against the sigil at the center of the gate. Magic sizzled along her bones the instant her hand made contact with the wall. Her blood flowed into the outline of the sigil, then spread beyond to the first circle, then slowly spilled over and spread to the second circle.
The sigils absorbed her blood hungrily, demanding more, until she was woozy and her legs wobbled. The blood soaked through the door, allowing her access to see into the room beyond. A plain pedestal stood in the middle of the room with a single, innocent clay jar resting on top. Underneath the pedestal was one last sigil.
Her blood filled the mark with agonizing slowness.
Once complete, the sigil blazed with light like a beacon, pulled forward by the magic in her blood. Fog slowly began to spill into the small chamber behind the gate, wisps of smoke being drawn back into the jar.
Shade was right. It required a lot of brute-force power to re-seal the gate. The sigil consumed the magic in her blood, but demanded more, slowly snaking its way back toward her like a hound that caught a scent. She had no doubt that once it reached her, the sigil would pull the magic directly from the source…her.
More and more fog filled the chamber, the lid of the jar rattling as it filled, and she felt herself weakening, struggling to remain conscious. Her hand began to tingle, like it was going numb, thousands of needles piercing her flesh. The sensation moved up her arm, and she realized the sigil was consuming her from the inside out. By the time the pain reached her shoulder, catching her breath was impossible.
She struggled against the instinctive urge to pull away.
She needed to do this.
Atlas was counting on her.
She promised to save him.
She refused to let him down, knowing how much turning back to his original form meant to him.
Her legs shook, her muscles turning watery, and she fought to keep her knees locked. The needles felt like railroad spikes splitting open her bones to feast on her magic. Kincade’s familiar touched slipped around her waist, holding her body upright, tight against his. She heard him speaking from a distance, but couldn’t decipher his words as the pain reached her chest. She expected to hear swearing and anger, but the gentle whispers made her ache.
She didn’t want to die.
The world around her began to darken and fade when the lid to the jar suddenly stopped clattering and snapped shut. Milky fog churned inside the jar, once more safely tucked away.
It was done.
The painful sensation of having her insides sucked dry through her pores faded gradually, leaving her feeling hollow and weak. It took an effort to peel her hand away from the gate, her arm too heavy to hold up any longer, and she was grateful when Kincade swept her up in his arms as darkness swept over her.
Kincade carefully caught Morgan when she fainted, her weight too damned light in his arms. His eyes dropped to her neck, only able to breathe again when he saw her steady pulse. “What the hell happened?”
The question was nothing more than a growl. He reluctantly lowered Morgan to the ground, crouching protectively over her as he glared up at the asshole Shade.