Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            When they shoved him down on a large oak stump, the murderous warlock screamed, “You can’t strike against me! Nïx guaranteed my protection!”

            Iona surfaced from another oak, her daughters trailing her in a grim procession.

            As they circled Jels, he thrashed against his captors, gaining no ground. “Nïx ordered her alliance not to attack!”

            Iona told him, “We belong to no alliance, and we follow no orders. Warlock, we nymphs can do whatever we like.” The kindhearted innkeeper had turned into a pitiless avenger. “And now you will pay for your crimes against us.” One of her daughters handed her a sickle.

            “You can’t do this to me!” Jels screamed as she raised the weapon above his chest, above his heart. “I’m protected!”

            “Apparently not enough.” She began to carve.

            “NOOOO!” the archwarlock screeched.

            Remind me no’ to get on their bad side. Munro had spent centuries around the nymphs, yet he’d had no idea they could be so fierce.

            Blood spurted as Iona removed Jels’s heart. But the screaming immortal lived yet.

            She laid aside the sickle and collected more vine to wrap around his neck. Lips drawn back from her teeth, she strangled him till his yells turned to gurgles.

            The archwarlock’s existence was coming to an ignominious end. His eyes slid shut, and his mouth opened on a last scream. Yet then a high-pitched whine sounded as air streamed toward him, rushing between his bloody lips into his body.

            The witches’ protection magic around the settlement became palpable. It glowed, then dimmed, shooting to the archwarlock as if drawn to an imploding star.

            “Munro?” Kereny asked. “What’s happening?”

            His phone heaved against his pants, his pocket glowing from a burst of heat. No longer did he sense magic from his phone. “All the spells in the vicinity are surging to Jels.”

            Kereny’s cuff glowed as well, the metal vibrating. Her arm was lifted, tugged toward that black-hole void.

            “Fuck me!” Munro yanked the cuff off her arm as the magic was siphoned away.

            With a chilling shriek, Iona tightened her stranglehold on the archwarlock. The whine grew louder and louder . . . until Jels’s head popped off, tumbling through the air.

            His body exploded in a plume of bloody ash, spattering the nymphs.

            Munro had no time for satisfaction. His mate’s cuff had failed, and she was in labor.

            “Munro!” Kereny’s eyes flashed blue, unerringly finding the moon. With a yell, she tore her gaze away.

            “Desh can still trace the doc to the surgical suite in time. Just keep your beast down!” Munro raised his head and bellowed to anyone within earshot, “I need a godsdamned phone!”

            As soon as the words left his lips, newling howls sounded.

            “Close the gates!” Madadh yelled from the wall. “We have to mount a defense—the newlings are returning!”

            With Jels’s death, his vassal spell had disappeared, leaving those Lykae unleashed and crazed under the moon. They charged back toward the settlement. With the boundary spell gone, they could scale right over the wall.

            With a chorus of roars, Glenrial’s residents ran to defend their stronghold.

            Munro spied Cassandra sprinting to the wall. “Need your phone, Cass!”

            Never slowing, she said, “Mine is toast!” Everyone’s phone would be. Because they’d all used bloody Wicca tech. Over her shoulder, she called, “Find a landline.” She might as well have told him to find a rainbow.

            Kereny said, “Even if you got a phone, a deer-shifter doctor won’t come to a Lykae war zone.” She was right.

            “I can do the surgery.”

            “You might hurt them. We can’t risk it. It’s too late anyway!” A scream followed her words.

            “Kereny?” Her belly looked . . . flatter.