"I will not leave you," Frost said. The men laid him in the seat even as he protested.
Doyle grabbed Frost's shoulder and said, "If I die, if all of us die, if the others are gone into the ground for good, then you must survive. You must take her back to Los Angeles and not return."
I started to get out of the car then. "I won't leave you."
Doyle pushed me back into the seat. He knelt down and gave me the full weight of his dark eyes. "Meredith, Merry, we cannot win this fight. Unless help arrives, we will all die. You have never seen this wild hunt, but I have. We will give them sidhe to hunt, and they will ignore this car. You and Frost will be safe."
I gripped his arms, so smooth, so muscled, so solid. "I won't leave you."
"Nor I," Frost said, struggling to sit up in the backseat.
"Frost," Doyle almost yelled it, "I do not trust anyone but you and me to keep her safe. If it is not to be me, then it must be you."
Bancroft said, "Get in and drive, Charlie."
The younger agent didn't argue this time; he got behind the wheel. I was still holding on to Doyle, shaking my head over and over. One of the other cops had gotten a first-aid kit out of the car. Bancroft took it and crawled into the back with Frost.
"No," I said to Doyle. "I am princess here, not you."
"Your duty is to live," Doyle said.
I shook my head. "If you die, I'm not sure I want to."
He kissed me then, hard and fierce. I tried to melt into that kiss, but he tore himself away and slammed the door in my face.
The doors locked. I glanced at the agent, who said, "We have to get you to safety, Princess."
"Unlock the door," I demanded.
He ignored me and started the engine, hit the gas. Just then wind slammed into the car, so hard that it skidded the vehicle to the side. Charlie fought to keep the car in the parking lot and out of the trees.
"Drive," Bancroft yelled, "drive like a son of a bitch!"
I looked then, because I had to. The wild hunt had broken through, and it was like the moment in the cave - as if the darkness had split open and was spilling out nightmares. But the nightmares were even more solid now. Or maybe, now that I'd seen them, I couldn't unsee them.
A coat flew over my face, and I was left scrambling at it. "Don't look, Merry," Frost said, his voice choked, "don't look."
"Put on the coat, Princess," Bancroft said. "We'll get you to the hospital."
I held the coat in my arms, but turned to look back.
The police were shooting at the hunt. Mistral lit the sky with lightning, and one of the police crumbled to the ground. Was he screaming? The horror spilled over Sholto, and he was lost to it. Doyle leapt toward the tentacles and teeth, the sword glittering in the moonlight. I screamed his name, but the last thing I saw before we drove into the dark was Doyle lost under a weight of nightmares.
Chapter 19
FROST'S HAND GRABBED MY SHOULDER, PRESSING ME AGAINST the seat. "Merry, please, don't make Doyle's sacrifice in vain."
I touched his hand, pressed it against me, and there was more blood on it. "How can I let them drive us to safety and not fight it?"
"You must. I am too hurt to help, and you are too fragile. I would willingly die with them, but you must not die."
Agent Charlie had us on the narrow road, driving a little too fast for the darkness and the snow. He hit ice and skidded.
"Slow down or you're going to put us in a ditch," Bancroft said. "And you, Frost, right, you need to lie back and let me finish putting pressure on this wound. You bleed to death and you can't keep the princess safe."
"Did you see it?" Charlie said as he slowed down. "Did you see it?"
"I saw it," Bancroft said in a strained voice. He pulled on Frost. "Let me take care of the wound like your captain ordered."
Frost let go of me, slowly, his hand pulling away. I started drawing the trench coat over me. I didn't know whose coat it was, but I was cold. Cold in a way that the coat wouldn't help, yet it was all I had.
Agent Charlie slowed at a sharp turn, and I caught a glimpse of something in the trees. It wasn't the wild hunt, and it wasn't our men.
"Stop," I said.
He slowed further, almost stopped. "What? What is it?"
I saw them in the trees: goblins. Goblins walking in single file, cloaked for the cold, bristling with weapons in the cold light of the moon. They were walking away from the fight, though some of them glanced back. That was enough to tell me they knew what was happening, and they were leaving my men to die.
"Drive," Bancroft said.
"Stop," I ordered.
Agent Charlie ignored me. The car picked up speed.
"Stop," I repeated. "There are goblins out there. They can tip the balance. They can save my men."
"We're doing what your guard demanded," Bancroft said. "We're going to a hospital."
I had to stop the car. I had to talk to the goblins - they were my allies. They had to help, if I asked it, or be forsworn.
I reached over, touched the agent's face, and thought about sex. I'd never done this to a human before, never used that part of my heritage for evil. And it was evil - I didn't know him, didn't want him, but I made him want me.
The agent slammed on the brakes, throwing me into the dash, and throwing the men in the back into the floorboards. Bancroft yelled, "What the hell are you doing?"
Agent Charlie threw the car into park, skewing halfway across the road. He unbuckled his seat belt, pulled me toward him, and started trying to kiss me, his hands everywhere. I didn't care, as long as the car was stopped.