Tessa did her level best to gut me.

The pincer-like claws burrowed against the front of the corset jacket like energetic voles, tearing at the enchanted fabric with intent to kill. The impact of her blow slammed me up against the wall, starbursts exploding in my vision as the base of my skull caromed off the stone. One piece of the corset's boning snapped beneath the onslaught and more were sure to follow if I didn't get out from beneath her right the hell now.

My vision was swimming, a faint ringing beginning in my ears, like a gong sounding my imminent unconsciousness. The adrenaline rush trickled out of me like water through a sieve and my body started blaring more alarm bells. My knees and calves burned like I'd run a mile with no stretching beforehand. There were hundreds of little cuts on my skin, sustained during the fight. They stung, little irritants that piled onto the others. There was a bruise throbbing on the small of my back where the bullet had failed to penetrate. The force of Tessa's attack hadn't penetrated the corset, but it had been enough force to break my arm. Bone ground painfully against bone as I tried to push her away on some pathetic reflex, even knowing it would do me no good.

My unbroken arm quested along the wall and then pressed flat as I braced myself. With the last of my strength, I wedged a knee up between my body and the squirming mantis shape and managed to press the sole of my boot into her thorax and snarled;

"Want some, bitch?"

The last of my strength exploded through the sole of my boot in a shower of golden and red sparks. It released the last of the kinetic energy gathered in the shoe and sent Tessa flying across the courtyard. I never got the chance to see if she impacted. My vision pulsed once and then went black.

When I swam my way back to consciousness I was tempted to paddle back toward the black undertow. Unconsciousness was less painful. My body was a map of injuries, with the direst pulsing with big red x's to mark the spot.

At least I was warm and someone had a hold of me. I was cradled against a well-built torso, strong arms keeping me aloft. Wind ruffled my hair and a gentle rocking motion almost lulled me back under.

"Daddy?" I ventured weakly, childish hope blossoming in my chest.

I'd been having the worst dream. Monsters everywhere, impossible choices, and pain. So much pain. He'd make it stop right? I wanted my father. I wanted someone to hold my hand and tell me things were going to be alright. I hadn't heard his voice in so long...

And when I cracked my eyes open I found myself face to face with the reason why.

Nicodemus Archleone's profile was mere inches from mine. My head was cradled in the hollow between his shoulder and throat, my broken arm tucked safely into a sling. The heat of one hand burned into my shoulder blade and the other curled beneath my knees.

The coma theory sounded really plausible right now. Skull fragments had to be putting pressure on my swelling brain. Because it was the only explanation I could think of that would allow for this surreal moment to occur. Nicodemus freaking Archelone was carrying me, bridal style, over the charred remnants of the compound toward the gate. This was just too fucking weird for words.

I let out a soft cry, rolled, and would have hit the ground on my injured arm if Nicodemus hadn't caught me again. I suspected he only did it because my friends were waiting at the entrance to the compound in various state of injury and would object to any of us meeting further harm.

Nicodemus must have had the squadron of Squires on speed-dial, because they were waiting for us outside the compound, standing at attention near a cluster of moving trucks. I noticed a conspicuous lack of bodies around the outer wall and suspected that at least one was piled high with the mercs that Nixon, Salem, and Thorn had dispatched. If I was right, the rest would be full of the artifacts that Savoy had collected by nightfall, bound for Nicodemus' own private holdings or for resale on the black market.

He finally set me on my feet when we'd cleared the compound walls entirely.

"You okay, Mac?" Nixon said, hand hovering just above my injured arm, concern palpable even with my empathic senses dialed almost to zero.

"Fine," I gritted from between my teeth. "Banged up, but I'll heal. You?"

He raised an arm. The skin was swollen, shiny, and smelled of char. "The other two entrances merged and dumped us into a booby-trapped corridor. Hannah managed to divert most of the fire."

"Are you going to be okay?"

He shrugged and parroted my own words back to me. "I'll heal."

"What happened to the Robe?" Hannah asked. Ruthless businesswoman, she was. Pragmatic in the extreme, even when our little band of Merry Men had been batted around like many abused hacky sacks.

"Liberated from its hiding place, but stolen by an unexpected insurgent. Do not fret. The amount has been wired to the appropriate account, Miss Ascher. The difficult part is over. I thank you," Nicodemus said.

He gestured two of the Squires forward and they obediently marched closer.

"I presume your people will require rest and repast. Brothers Jordan and Malachai will see you to the Lost Mountain Lodge in Sequim. I've secured five rooms for your use. Stay as long as you like."

I thought Hannah might give him a big ol' smooch. I didn't like the beginnings of veneration in her gaze one bit.

"That's very generous of you, Mr. Archleone," she said, inclining her head gratefully.

"As I said. I accrue investments, not enemies."

"We're very grateful. I look forward to working with you again if you're interested."

Nicodemus' gaze swept over her and then over me. I averted my gaze instantly.

"Actually, I would like a word with each of you in private. Separately, if you would permit it."

"I'd rather not-"

"Catherine, could you stop being stubborn, just this once? It won't be long, right?"

"Five minutes or less," Nicodemus said.

Grumbling darkly beneath my breath I stood a little way off while Nicodemus discussed...whatever he had to say with Hannah. The conversation was animated and pleasant, though I couldn't make out what was being said. Most of my brain was busy composing a bullet-point list of pain, trying to decide which was the worst. Deirdre stood a little way off, leaning against one of the vans. The cuts I'd gotten during the climb up the hair-stairs were burning dully at the moment. Definitely a contender, but not the strongest.

I jumped when Nicodemus brushed the elbow of my good arm.

"I did not mean to frighten you, Miss Lenhardt. A word, please?"

He gestured for me to follow. I planted my feet firmly.

"We can talk here."

"Mulish, as always."

"You bet your ass. Mind telling me who just tried to kill me?"

I knew, of course. But Catherine Lenhardt would ask. So I did.

"My wife, Tessa," he said mildly. "The theft will be dealt with."

I laughed bitterly. "You know how to pick them, huh?"

"Perhaps. And an apt segue, Miss Lenhardt. I wish to offer you an employment opportunity."

"Not interested in being a lackey, thanks."

"Not a lackey, Miss Lenhardt. A full partner."

Nicodemus reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew a velvet box. It looked like something Cartier jewelry was kept in. It wasn't and I knew what I'd see when he flicked the lid open with his thumb. Inside was a Denarius. Deceptively small, for something so powerful. The sigil was blackened and hard to make out. My stomach did a cartwheel and I was almost sick on his shoes, just as I promised. The potions and beef jerky would make a reappearance soon.

I swallowed back bile and lifted a brow at him in silent, incredulous inquiry.

"You can't be serious."

"Deadly."

"I don't like you."

"You've made that exceedingly clear."

"And you don't like me."

"Immaterial. Your skills could serve a higher purpose."

I remembered Lasciel's shadow saying something to that effect. God, that seemed like an eternity ago now. Had it only been a little over a year? To hear the sentiment coming almost verbatim out of Nicodemus' mouth was...unnerving, to say the least. It didn't matter. I'd found my higher purpose. I'd painted a shiny silver lining on this whole Denarius thing and I wasn't about to tarnish it by association with Nicodemus.

"Somehow I don't think it'd work out. I'm sort of the textbook definition of insubordinate. I'm also recalcitrant, mutinous, fractious, disagreeable, irascible, and just generally..."

"Contumacious?"

"I was going to say an enormous pain in the ass, but that works too."

I shifted my gaze over his shoulder to where Deidre leaned against the car. She appeared to be looking at nothing, but I'd bet at least a dollar she was listening in.

"Besides. I don't think your daughter and I will get along. There'll be tears. Fights. Hair pulling. And with Deirdre, that's kind of a dangerous proposition."

"On the contrary. You worked quite well together."

"Fluke. Won't happen again."

"Your talents are wasted on mere pest control. Join us. You are capable of much. I'm merely offering a chance to tap into your full potential. The spirit inside this coin can offer you power. Tutelage to hone your already impressive gifts." He paused to give me a mirror of that interest he'd shown inside. "You deny yourself every day. Hide your desires behind fraudulent faith. Miss Ascher truly believes in this cause. She denied the coin to continue her crusade. But you don't."

"What the hell makes you say that?" I snapped, bristling immediately.

He gestured to the pendant around my neck. "Saint Jude. The patron saint of lost causes."

"I'm the lost cause, not the mission."

I shoved the pendant between my breasts again, cursing the fact it had been shaken loose. What if the chain had snapped? What if he'd picked it up? Surely he'd have felt Lasciel's coin within.

I leaned forward and gingerly pressed the velvet top of the box down until it clicked shut and hid the coin from view.

"Keep your coin, Nick. I'm fine right where I am."

He showed no flicker of disappointment or surprise, probably anticipating the denial. He pocketed the box and instead drew out a card, offering it to me. I took it from his outstretched hand. Anything to end this conversation.

"If you change your mind, contact me."

"Right-O boss man," I said sourly and gave him a mocking salute.

I strode away as fast as my aching body would allow, climbing into the van provided for our use. The others piled in after me not long after.

The second we were out of sight, I flicked the card out the window.