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This was the place where the supernaturals dared the losers of their drinking games to enter. Rumor said that most supernaturals who went in never came out, and those who came out didn’t remember a damn thing.

Even standing where I was, I could sense a menacing force within the ancient forest. Yet I wasn’t too concerned about the wild, dark, and terrifying magic of Underhill. All magic, dark or light or vicious, always resonated with me.

Feel it, Sy? I asked.

The Shrieker isn’t too far in, Sy answered. It fears the creatures in the forest. But they’re watching instead of attacking it, knowing we’re coming. The magic told them so, and we shall not hunt any creature of Underhill.

I hope you stick to your own principles, I said. You eat everything.

Not them, she said in displeasure.

A wolf howled in the distance, making me jump out of my skin. The wolf’s song rose from the other side of Underhill, which marked the border of the shifter territory.

It was this side that everyone tried to avoid.

As I tried to pinpoint the Shrieker’s position with Sy’s aid so I could go around it for a sneak attack, I sensed someone else who carried a different magical signature from Underhill’s natives. The scent of prey. Bait.

As if on cue, a muffled scream tore out, then a whimper.

I stalked toward the sound.

It’s a trap, Sy called.

Of course. The Shrieker probably got a student from the school.

Not our problem, Sy said. We stick to our plan and kill the enemy. We don’t get distracted by any bait. As a rule, we don’t risk our neck for anyone.

Let’s see, I said non-committally.

Don’t go soft now, she warned.

I cut a path into a copse of ancient trees of all colors, dark magic twirling at my feet and beckoning me forward.

What I hadn’t expected was to see Lady America presented as bait.

Tied to a red tree, she whimpered through her gag that looked like her own socks. Sickly fear coated her frosty blue eyes, so thick that I could smell its stench. Another sniff, and I knew that she’d peed herself. When facing fear and death, all men and women were equal. The fae chick didn’t turn up her nose at me now.

How had the Shrieker captured her? Had America wandered to this forbidden zone? She wouldn’t have been so foolish to come up here on a dare, would she? If she had, it only meant that she also had a dirty secret that she wouldn’t want anyone else to know about.

Who cares, Sy said. Just go find our mortal foe and gut it. And I’ll sing a song of vanquish and victory.

Yet unexpected empathy washed over me, even though I despised this fae. I was going soft, or it was something else. After being in this realm for only a week, I’d grown a sense of protection toward this last magical realm and the living things in it.

“Princess,” the Shrieker called. “I feel you. I felt you when I entered this new realm. The magic here is pure and tenfold more potent than in the mortal realm! You must take it all for the master. Daddy will forgive you when you bring him this great gift.”

Shriekers were terrible at talking. They mimicked how humans talked and often got it wrong. Daddy? Seriously?

“Have you seen the sacrifice I brought for you—food for your monster?” They always called Sy my monster, as I kept her name from them. “The fae smells sweet. Her meat will taste better than others your monsters ate. Yummy. Yummy!”

America struggled to no avail and whimpered in terror.

Kill the fae girl so we won’t be distracted, then we’ll deal with that stupid Shrieker, Sy urged. It called me your monster!

We do things differently from now on, I said. We’re turning over a new leaf to prove there’s hope for us.

What hope?

We aren’t a psychopath anymore, I offered. Recognize that, and we’ll have a future here.