Jolie jolted.

A cold, light breeze kissed her cheeks.

“Sir, she’s waking up.”

Jostling stopped.

Hushed, unfamiliar words whispered over her. An invisible weight lifted from her body and soul and she opened her eyes. Intensity burned in Hans’s eyes, and they crinkled in the corners.

She sat up—arms pinned her to his strong body. “Don’t want to drop you, dear. Are you strong enough to walk?”

Nothing hurt. She wasn’t tired or weak or anything. “I think so. What happened?”

“He—“

“Shush, Johnny. Now’s not the time.”

She swallowed. He must’ve done something to her. Yet there he was, holding her.

“Sorry, sir.”

The man lowered her legs while keeping an arm around her upper body.

She put her weight on her feet. Her legs wobbled, and Jolie fell into him and grabbed his coat, his mouth mere inches away from her. All she had to do was get on her toes... She stiffened. What was she thinking?

A charming smile spread. “Almost. Give it a moment.” His tone was ever patient.

She considered his weathered face, one belonging to a mountain man in an action movie. “Thanks.” Her voice left her soft.

Wait. He’d said something about her sister coming the following day, and after that, he’d said her name, only she hadn’t introduced herself. “Hans?”

“Yes, dear?”

Again, she swallowed, heat warming her face. “Have we met before?”

“No.”

Her heart stuttered. “How do you know my name? And my sister, you said—“

“I’ll explain once we finish. For now, time is of the essence.”

Darkness flashed in her mind as cold twisted her insides. She froze.

Warm lips pressed against her forehead, a beard teasing her skin.

The cold evaporated, and she shivered, whatever freezing her vanquished by his kiss.

Warmth spread from the mouth pressed against her forehead, electrifying every fiber of her being, and she shuddered.

“There.” He smiled. “It’s gone.”

She gasped and tightened her hold on his coat. Something happened and he’d dispelled it. “What…?”

“Not yet. Later. Show me where we go next.”

Show him? But, he was on the stone steps before, ready for her.

A force turned her and pushed her toward an old, black, whimsical house that better belonged in a kid’s movie.

Two steps from the stairs, Hans captured her wrist and pulled her back, muttering an incantation under his breath.

The black melted away, the crooked, awkward façade transforming into a delightful Victorian house.

“Skip the first and third step, dear.” His voice and breath caressed her ear.

A force prompted her to step on both and moved her toward the first step. “H-Hans. Help me, please.”

His body pressed against her back, and hands covered hers, sending a delicious shiver along her spine. “I’m pleased you asked. Of course.”

Jolie wet her lips and focused on the second step, only her foot headed to the first.

“Johnny, a little help.”

The handsome boy grabbed and lifted her leg while Hans pushed her forward, forcing her to the second step.

Weight settled over her. “This is really weird.”

“It is, but you’re almost there. Fourth step, then the porch. Keep fighting your instincts.”

Her instincts. They were supposed to guide a witch. Yet they led her to opening the space in old Aggie’s stairs, and Hans pulled out an arrowhead instead of the regular artifact. Yet there’d been a rightness to it. And since there was, she’d do as he said. So she doubled her focus on the fourth step.

Her foot started for the third step.

She clenched her jaw and lifted her leg higher.

Johnny grabbed it and guided—Hans pushed her, and her foot touched down on the fourth step.

She fisted her hands and zeroed in on the porch. One more step, that was all.

She lifted her other foot—Johnny shoved it at the porch, and Hans pushed from behind. Jolie stepped on the porch and straightened. With their help, she’d made it. She lifted her foot—a hand wrapped around her arm.

“Wait. Something’s not right.”

Tingles danced along her skin and electricity hummed over her tongue. “Stand down, hidden knights, I pray thee, and let us pass.” The words flowed through her shattered voice. “For I’m of Epia’s line. Guard my companions and me from the one seeking us.”

The weight dissipated from her, and light flared around her.

Massive gargoyles appeared, decked out in wicked battle gear.

Her jaw fell, and she stared at the nearest one not three feet away. That, that was a...

It stepped forward, towering over her, and held out its hand.

Hans removed her glove and rubbed her upper arm. “You must first show him trust before you gain it.”

Glowing eyes turned on Hans. The temperature dropped a few degrees. It moved toward him, but Jolie offered her hand to it before it could hurt her companions.

The gargoyle’s full attention turned to her. It lifted her hand and jabbed a finger at her ring finger, puncturing—pain stabbed her skin, and she sucked in a sharp breath. The deadly guard bent and licked her beading blood.

Light flared.

She squeezed her eyes shut, yet it faded beyond her lids.

Jolie blinked away bright orbs. A handsome knight frowned down at her. Her breath hitched. For all that was sacred, a knight held her hand.

“Guardians, protect the veil. None may enter. Let no harm befall Epia’s daughter or her two companions.” His glowing gaze lifted. “To your posts.”

The porch shook.

Several knights marched to the edges, and glorious angelic wings spread.

It was so surreal. Tall, muscled warriors with feathered wings stood like sentries, ready for battle.

Tingles burst throughout her body, prickling her skin.

The angel in front of her stepped to the side and gestured toward the front door. “You may pass. Twelve hours only. You must depart before then or be trapped here forever.”