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“No.” I studied him, wondering how much to reveal. “Let's just say I learned from some interesting teachers. Before Hallow, before all this.” I gestured vaguely at my current life.

He nodded, accepting the non-answer for now. “It saved our lives.”

“Don't get used to it. Magic like that... it takes more than it gives.” I rolled my shoulder, feeling the bone-deep exhaustion that came from tapping those particular powers. “Usually prefer the old-fashioned way.”

“Stabbing things?”

“Works, doesn't it? No hangover, no creepy side effects, just good old-fashioned violence.”

His laugh was unexpected, genuine in a way that made something warm unfurl in my chest. “You know, for someone who claims to work alone, you're not terrible at the whole partnership thing.”

“Don't push it, fed.” But there was no heat in it. We were both running on empty, walls lowered by exhaustion and shared combat and maybe something else. Something I couldn't afford to think about.

A distant crash made us both tense, hunter's instincts kicking in despite fatigue. Cade's hand went to his gun while I reached for a blade, the movements synchronized like we'd been doing this for years instead of days.

“We should move,” he said, already checking sight lines through the boarded windows. “Those things will be regrouping, adapting to new hunting patterns.”

“The spell weakened them,” I said, watching Cade scan the broken windows. “Made them vulnerable. But there's only one way to kill creatures like this permanently.”

Cade's expression tightened as he caught my meaning. “Decapitation.”

“Yeah. Clean through the neck, can't give them a chance to adapt or regenerate.” I checked my blade, ignoring how the movement pulled at my wounds. “Otherwise they'll just keepcoming, keep learning, until they're perfect killing machines wearing our faces.”

He was quiet for a moment, that federal conscience warring with survival instinct. “They look human.”

“They're not.” My voice came out sharper than intended. “That's the point. They steal forms, memories, movements. Make you hesitate because they look like something you shouldn't kill.” I met his gaze steadily. “That hesitation? That's exactly what they're counting on.”

“There has to be another way,” he argued, that idealism so reminiscent of his character profile showing through.

“There isn't.” I pushed off from the wall, fighting the lingering weakness from the magic. “You've seen how they adapt. How they learn. Every second we waste trying to find a 'better way' is another second they spend getting stronger, smarter, deadlier.”

Cade's eyes narrowed. “For someone who couldn't identify what they were until Skye helped, you seem to know a lot about how to kill them now.”

A fair point. I rolled my shoulder, buying time. “I've hunted shapeshifters before, lots of them. These creatures follow similar patterns, just... accelerated. More advanced.” I pulled up my sleeve, revealing a jagged scar running from wrist to elbow. “Dublin, 2018. What we thought was a standard shifter turned out to be something older, something that could absorb more than just appearance. It learned from each kill, adapted with each encounter.”

“And Skye's identification just confirmed what you suspected,” Cade said, halfway between a question and a statement.

“Exactly. I needed confirmation before committing to a kill strategy. Different species, same evolutionary principle. They mimic to survive, adapt to hunt. The difference is just in howfast they learn and what they can absorb.” I checked my blade again. “And these? They're learning faster than anything I've ever seen.”

A crash from outside punctuated my point. The Fetches were regrouping, testing new strategies. Cade's hand tightened on his weapon, and I saw the moment decision won out over doubt.

“Fine,” he said, voice clipped. “But we do this smart. No heroics.”

I managed a grim smile. “When have I ever been heroic?”

His answering look spoke volumes.

We moved through the abandoned building carefully, weapons ready. The Fetches would be more cautious now, more tactical. But they'd also be desperate. Wounded creatures were always the most dangerous.

The first one came through a broken window, moving like liquid shadow. But the spell had done its work, its movements were slower, less certain. Cade didn't hesitate this time. His blade struck clean and true, and the thing's head hit the floor before its body finished shifting.

“Good,” I muttered as the corpse began to dissolve. “Now you're getting it.”

Three more came at us in quick succession. We fought back-to-back, blades flashing in the dim light. Cade was a quick study, adapting to the brutal necessity of our task with the same efficiency he showed in everything else.

When the last Fetch fell, the silence felt heavy with unspoken things.

“Let's check the church,” I said before he could start questioning the morality of what we'd just done. “Whatever they were protecting down there, it was worth risking a lot of assets to keep us away from it.”