Zacharel popped his jaw, the very picture of a commander who’d had too much lip from his subordinate. “You’re supposed to be with Thane, watching him. What are you doing with a human female?”

      So Koldo was to keep Thane from committing a crime, not the other way around? “I’ll return to Thane. You have my word. Now, will you sell the Water to me or not?”

      Emerald eyes crackled with angry flames. “Not.”

      Koldo looked to Annabelle.

      Seemingly delicate shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Sorry, but I know better than to tango with Zachy when he’s gone stubborn.”

      No, she didn’t. She tangoed with “Zachy” no matter his moods. Koldo had seen her—and he’d seen her win.

      Teeth grinding, Koldo popped to his feet. “Very well.” He would try and purchase a drop of the Water from someone else. If he failed, if he had to approach the Heavenly High Council, he … would not, he thought. He could endure a whipping, no problem, but he still wasn’t sure what sacrifice they would next require.

      Therefore, he had to find someone willing to sell him the Water. If he failed to return and keep his part of the bargain, Nicola would never trust him. And if she never trusted him, she would never listen to him. Never find comfort with him.

      Never reap the joy that she needed so badly.

      He marched out of the living room.

      “Koldo,” Zacharel called.

      He stilled, his muscles knotting from strain. He’s your leader. Show him respect—even though you would enjoy ripping his head from his body. Slowly he turned and faced the warrior. “Yes?”

      “I won’t sell it to you. I will, however, give it to you.” Zacharel reached into an air pocket and withdrew a clear vial. A single bead of Water rolled and glistened at the bottom. “The very day you gave Annabelle the vial, I poured a drop into a separate container and saved it for you, waiting for the day you would need it. I only pray you use it wisely. It’s a second chance … and I won’t be offering you a third.”

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      NICOLA WAS LIGHT-HEADED and close to fainting. Her nerves were frayed, her heart alternating between fluttering painfully and stopping as though squeezed by an iron-hard fist. Koldo had been gone sixteen minutes and thirty-two seconds. During that time the doctor had come back expecting to turn off Laila’s machines. Ending her. Forever.

      How was Nicola to remain calm, embrace peace and sow joy like this?

      She had asked for more time, and the doctor had tried to talk her into hurrying along.

      Laila’s in pain.

      She’s ready to go. Her body can’t endure on its own, and her mind is already gone.

      She’ll never recover from this.

      Nicola had refused him.

      Finally, he had left the room. But he would be back. She knew he would be back.

      If Koldo failed to return in time …

      Laila will die today, she thought, and nearly vomited.

      Her light-headedness increased, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to remain lucid much longer. If she passed out cold …

      Again, Laila would die.

      If. If. If. How she hated the word! She—

      Koldo stepped into view, as though he’d opened a doorway she couldn’t see.

      Relief speared her, and she leaped to her feet. He was as big and strong as she remembered—maybe bigger, maybe stronger—and he was a warrior. In some kind of army, he’d said. As long as he was here, Laila would be safe.

      Except, his eyes held a grim taint.

      Why grim?

      She looked him over, searching for a clue. He wore the same flowing white shirt and pants as before, the same combat boots, looking comfortable, stylish and ready for action. There were no specks of blood to suggest he’d had to fight his way here.

      All that grim was for Laila, then.

      “Koldo,” she croaked.

      He nodded in acknowledgment. “Stop worrying, Nicola.”

      “First tell me the bargain stands.” The words rushed out. And wow, had she really put her trust and hope in a stranger like this? A stranger of such dubious origins?

      Yes, actually. She had. Laila’s survival was too important.

      “It does,” he assured her.

      Good. That was good. “Where have you been?” Ugh. Watch the accusation. You don’t want to send him fleeing.

      “Here and there.”

      A lovely nonanswer. “Well, are you sure this will work?” Whatever “this” was.

      “I’m sure she’ll hurt,” Koldo said, once again ignoring her question, “and she’ll scream, but her body will heal. What happens after that will be up to her. Do you still wish me to proceed?”

      Nicola had a little talent for dissecting tones and unveiling a supposition only hinted at. What had she just gotten from Koldo? He didn’t think the results would be worth the effort. Well, too bad. She did. Laila was worth anything. Her sister deserved a second chance. No matter how short.

      “I do,” she finally replied.

      “Very well.” Koldo stepped up to the bed and gently pried Laila’s lips apart. He opened his hand to reveal an empty vial … no, not empty. A single droplet of water rolled at the bottom, glistening in the light.

      He placed the vial over Laila’s open mouth, paused. He inhaled sharply, as if trying to force himself to act. His hesitation caused Nicola’s worry to magnify. Maybe this wasn’t the best decision. Maybe she had made the deal with Koldo for her own selfish needs.

      “Is there another—”

      But she was too late. Koldo had just tipped the droplet onto Laila’s tongue.

      Nicola waited, expecting something to happen right away. The screaming he’d promised, perhaps. Or maybe, miraculously, a smile.

      A minute passed, then two, and nothing changed.

      Koldo released a heavy sigh. “It’s done,” he said, and met her hopeful stare. “I must return to my duties or face—never mind. I shall come to you tomorrow, and your time in my care will begin.”

      For the third instance in their acquaintance, he vanished.

      “But—”

      There was no time to lament or rage over his newest defection. Laila unleashed the promised scream. A scream that nearly busted Nicola’s eardrums. Worried all over again, she rushed to her sister’s side. “Laila, darling, what’s wrong? What do you need?”

      Her sister responded with another scream.

      Two nurses burst into the room, both unwinding stethoscopes from around their necks.

      “What’s going on?” one demanded.

      “I don’t know,” Nicola replied hoarsely. Koldo had fed her sister a drop of … what? Not water, that much she now knew. But she couldn’t mention the warrior without sounding utterly insane.

      And if they doubted her sanity, they would refuse to allow her to see Laila. Laila’s fate would fall into someone else’s hands, and someone else would get to decide to turn the machines off.

      “Step back,” the other said, even giving her a little push.

      They checked the monitors