Page 26

The climb to Silverville feels endless. Xeran moves ahead of me like a man possessed, his sense guiding us through the smoke-filled darkness. Behind me are Kalen and Soren.

Each step sends jolts of pain through my exhausted body. I know that I’ve already pushed myself too hard tonight. My hands shake with magical depletion, and there’s a ringing in my ears that tells me I’m close to burnout.

It’s the same thing I heard right before blasting Tanner Sorel into that tree. Before crumpling to the ground, my consciousness blinking to black.

As we move, I can’t stop myself from thinking of another time I was on this ridge. More than ten years ago, with four other girls.

Fighting. Crying. Having no idea what was happening until the first burst of daemonic energy ripped through the air, hitting the trees and gripping them, setting the leaves alight.

That first daemonic fire, the energy ripping up from under the crust of the earth, startlingly blue, so potent the air crackled around us, turned my saliva bitter and metallic.

I had no idea what was going on—other than the fact that it seemed like our group was falling apart—but whatever happened that day seemed to open up a fissure, allow the constant pressure of the daemonic energy around us a path into our little town.

Aurela had cried. Valerie had run away. And I watched, screaming for her to stop, for her to be careful, as the fifth member of our group laughed and dipped her hands into the writhing, oily blue flames.

“There.”

Xeran stops, pulling me out of the memories, and I realize my hands are shaking harder now from my mental detour.

Our group comes to a stop, and Xeran points through the haze, and I can only barely make out figures at the top of the ridge, looking for all the world like they’re just waiting for us to appear.

“They’re waiting for us,” Kalen says, speaking my thoughts out loud. “They knew we would come.”

Xeran glances at him, and I realize Kalen hasn’t been able to tell Xeran his important thing in the truck. It was too loud and too tense, with Xeran trying to dodge debris in the road, fires raging outside on all sides.

As though realizing this as well, Xeran turns to his brother. “What’s going on?”

“I was trying to tell you—”

“Xeran! Kalen!” Declan’s voice booms through the space, magnified by something, and the sound of it makes a shudder run up my spine. “Don’t be shy—come on up here. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

The look on Xeran’s face is murderous, and when we move closer, the smoke lessening from an all-out blackout to a haze, I’m able to make out the shapes of the other Sorels. Farris and Dallas. Even Tanner, who looks at me with an apathy just this side of rage.

They’re all standing near the edge of the ridge, far closer than I would ever dare to stand. And when we get close enough, I can make out the shape of something smaller.

My daughter.

“Nora!”

“Uh-uh,” Declan warns, and I realize he has something in his hand. A knife. Pressed to her throat. “Not another step closer!”

Fear and anger and protectiveness roll through me with the speed of a shockwave. My body moves on its own accord, but Xeran reaches out, putting a hand on me and holding me back.

“That’s right,” Declan coos. “You keep her in line, Xeran. It’s nice to see you finally enjoying one of my gifts. That soccer ball I brought you just deflated in the garage. Do you know how hurtful that was?”

“What do you want, Declan?” Xeran asks, and to my shock, his voice is deathly calm. If it’s an act, it’s an amazing one. I feel like I might throw up, my eyes locked on my daughter, my brain unable to think of anything other than the knife that’s far too close to her skin.

Nora is clutching onto Declan, her heels along the back of the ridge, a wide-eyed, fearful pain on her face. When I find her gaze, I try to communicate everything in the way I’m looking at her.

I’m sorry. I love you. I’m going to get you out of this.

“Really, Xeran?” Declan tuts. “Mr. Strategy? I thought you’d already know what I wanted. In fact, I thought you might bring it with you.”

“Let her go, Declan. Your fight is with me.”

“Did you bring it or not?” Declan’s face falls, and when he yanks on Nora, I realize he has her by the back of her head. The thought of his hands on her, pulling her hair—it makes more magic rise to the edges of my skin, sparking.

“I brought it,” Kalen says, stepping forward and pulling something from his pocket. When he unfolds it, all I can see is a manila folder, rolled and wrinkled from being tucked in his firefighting suit. “It’s all here.”

“Now, Kalen, how can I be sure that it’s all there?” Declan asks.

“What the hell is going on?” Xeran snaps, looking back and forth between them.

“This is what I was trying to tell you,” Kalen says, slapping the folder into Xeran’s hands. “It’s what we found out about Declan, that day we tailed him.”

“When you broke into my place,” Declan corrects, snarling through the smoke. Behind him, I can hear the rush of the creek far below. “Fucking weasels.”

Xeran opens the folder, but I know he can’t read it. It’s too dark, too smoky.

Kalen says, “It’s documents, financial records. Enough to prove that they were the ones starting the fires.”

“You can’t start a daemonic fire,” Xeran says, shaking his head.

“Oh, really?” Declan asks, laughing as he uses his knife to gesture to me. “You can’t? Just ask your girlfriend how she did it.”

“Start a fire, and the daemon energy will come,” Dallas says, stepping forward for the first time. “It’s fucking obvious, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to stand here and talk. You give us the stuff, we give you the girl.”

“No,” Declan says, holding his hand up to his nephew. “ No, you don’t make the fucking deals. Step back.”

Rage ripples over Dallas’s face, but he steps back, his jaw ticking.

“It’s more than the fires,” Kalen says quietly. “It’s faulty insurance. A whole scheme. Not only is he burning the town, but he’s taking everything from families, swooping in to buy what’s left when the fires are done.”

“You’re looking at the proud owner of several acres,” Declan says, a slimy grin spreading over his face. “And it’s only right. The Sorels should own more of this town than the fucking Cambiases .”

“But you don’t just keep it,” Kalen challenges, disgust in his voice. I’m surprised—I never thought Xeran’s little brother would have it in him to stand up to Declan like that. “You sell it to human developers when you know that hurts the pack. Makes it harder for us.”

“When you make ten times the value of the lot, you’ll do it, too,” Declan says, rolling his eyes. “Colorado is trendy , nephew. That’s just good business.”

“Dallas is right,” Tanner says, sounding bored like always. “Do we have to stand up here and chat? Can we get this over with?”

Declan cuts his gaze angrily to Tanner, then rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to Xeran. “Here’s the deal. All that evidence burns. And you sign a pact, here and now, that you will never challenge me for the spot of alpha supreme.”

“Not going to happen.” The words come out of Xeran so fast, I’m not sure he’s fully considered them.

A wicked grin spreads over Declan’s face as he returns the blade to Nora’s neck, and this time, he actually nicks her skin, drawing blood.

I try to do something, try to reach for magic, but there’s nothing left. A scream buries itself in my throat.

“Stop!” Xeran steps forward, then stutters, stopping like he’s been slapped in the face. “… What?”

And I realize why he’s stopped a moment later when the smell hits me.

Up here, in the smoke and with the scents swirling around us, it was easy to miss Nora’s scent. But when her skin is nicked and her blood hits the air, it floods around us.

Strong. Sure. And undoubtedly Sorel.

“That’s right,” Declan says, his grin spreading. No doubt he figured it out when he took her and smelled her without the scent-blocking pills. “She’s not just some outcast’s bastard anymore. She’s a Sorel. Your blood—hell, my blood. A legacy.”

Nora trembles under his touch. Xeran growls, stepping forward, then stopping when Declan twists the knife, showing Nora’s blood shining on the blade.

“What will it be, nephew?” Declan asks, a laugh running through the words. “Let’s make the decision quick, my other nephews are clearly growing impatient. I’ll give you one minute to choose—what will it be? Your pack, or your daughter?”