Page 125 of Hunted By Fae

My plan, if I can even call it that, is… fucking shit. And we’re definitely all going to die because of it.

The only advantages I have are the light and his arrogant ignorance. He hasn’t noticed us yet, smelled us in the air, heard our hearts thumping away. But if he so much as shifts his focus off Bee for a second, looks our way, a swift glance of total disinterest, he’ll find us.

They do that.

The dark ones, they see in the blackout as though it’s not there at all, not blinding them as it blinds us.

Need to be quick.

I drop into a crouch.

Pulling on Emily’s shoulder, I guide her down with me.

Her breaths are too loud, too ragged, and she flattens the thick gloved palms to her mouth, muffling herself.

The look she throws at me is wide-eyed, a plea for me to do something.

I could shoot the dark fae. But that isn’t enough.

I’ve seen those warriors get hit with a grenade and stagger away. I’ve seen guns unload right into their chests, andnothing…

So maybe I don’t shoot him.

Maybe I just shoot the ice at his boots.

It’s all I have.

I chance a curt glance over the boat at the lake.

Still there. Facing off or talking, I can’t tell.

It’s hard to make it out exactly, but the light gleams on this dark fae, and I swear he’s just standing there in front of her,speaking.

Bee said she recognised a dark fae—and that he might have recognised her, too.

Dare.

This must be him.

Bee knows this fae.

But their history isn’t good.

That conversation isn’t limitless. Bee is running out of time. With each second I waste, I bring her closer to death.

I loosen an aching breath, fleetingly reminded of the inhaler I so desperately need right now, but that’s wasted time.

I elbow into Emily, a curt gesture.

“Rifle,” I mouth the word, then nudge the shotgun into her arm.

My gaze sweeps the dark pocket we’re tucked into, broken by the scraps of light wisping around the shape of the boat.

I flatten myself on the snow, belly-down, and peer out from under the boat, between the stilts.

Silent, Emily hands me the rifle, but her vibe reaches me, the tension burrowing in her.

I don’t doubt she’s thinking that bullets don’t work on these beasts.