Fin Shadowclaw's face was doing something that, on a less dangerous son of a bitch, might have been called an expression. His mood had a blast radius. You could feel the radiation from twelve feet. Gavriel was inside the red line at eleven and considering retreat.
The portal deposited them into the underground chamber beneath the library, and Serena was already gone.
Between the ancestor's long-ass monologue and the portal, her body dipped and consciousness didn't stick around to say goodbye.
Her head was tucked against Fin's collarbone, her breathing shallow but steady, her white hair matted with ash and blood and the accumulated debris of a woman who had survived a volcano, a squid, and vampires.
If someone had told Gavriel forty-eight hours ago that he'd crawl out of a volcano smelling like grilled ass and squid piss, he'd have asked what drugs they were on.
