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23

Jon

T he sharp temperature drop threatened to shut my body down. I forgot what to do for a solid three seconds, limbs stiff with shock. But as Sylvia shifted in my grip, rigid from the cold, I forced myself toward the narrow opening in the cavern wall.

At first, the underwater tunnel was wide enough for Cliff and me to swim side by side. The deeper we went, the more it shrank, darkness encroaching until touching the jagged walls was the only way to know which direction to go.

My lungs began to burn. I felt myself falling behind, forced to claw my way forward with only one hand while the other held Sylvia.

Finally, a wink of late afternoon sunlight bobbed ahead.

Gritting my teeth, I strained toward it. Once I was free from the tunnel, reaching the surface seemed like another mile upward. Unnaturally bright fish glowed like lanterns in the filthy depths. Just as my throat was about to give in and swallow a mouthful of water, I burst into the open air and took a deep breath.

Closer to the shore, Cliff coughed heavily, agonized and relieved.

I raised my hand to check on Sylvia, but the moment my fingers unfurled, something latched onto my ankle and pulled hard. As I was dragged back under the surface, I lost my hold on her—lost her to the water.

Her name flew past my lips, muted and garbled .

The surface flew out of reach, becoming a mere ripple overhead. I tried to reach out, to grab hold of anything to pull me away from my attacker, but there was nothing. Cold hands gripped me feverishly, subduing my thrashing limbs with inhuman strength as I was pulled deeper into the dark and cold.

The siren’s melody echoed around me. It rose above the roar of panic in my mind, delicate and beautiful despite the water’s distortion. One hand gripped my shoulder, jagged nails piercing my skin like a harpoon sunk into its prey. Another bony hand gripped my jaw. The burning in my lungs was already unbearable, every second excruciating. I needed to breathe .

Though I tried to fight, to look anywhere else—our eyes caught.

Immediately, my muscles relaxed. A halo of red hair fanned around her head, eyes bright green beneath long lashes. Recognition surfaced—this was the same siren that had targeted me on the docks, the one Sylvia had freed from the outpost. She was achingly beautiful, otherworldly, terrifying .

Her rosy lips spread in a smile, pulling me close enough to kiss me. Her touch became loving, stroking my cheek as though she’d known me forever.

I’ve got you, darling. You can let go now .

I hardly noticed how frozen her skin was against mine. It didn’t matter.

Life is so hard up there. You don’t need to fight anymore. We can be together here, forever.

My vision blurred as I tried to glimpse the surface—a faint glow so far away now. The pain in my chest numbed, a distant memory as her sweet voice sang to me. Her promise was a comforting thought. No more pain. No more loss. I’d have given anything to feel whole like that again.

Her mistake was looking too much like Sylvia—because I remembered she was up there, and I lost my hold on her, and she could be drowning.

I mirrored the siren’s tender grip, cupping her face in my hand like she was a delicate treasure.

Darkness crept into my vision, but I didn’t need to see to find the hilt of the bronze knife stowed in my jacket. My hand closed around the weathered handle. I had a promise to uphold.

I am all you need. Urgency laced her lullaby.

I struggled, even as her claws sank deeper into my arm, fighting to hold me in place. I snapped my left hand to grip the siren’s hair at the roots, and with the other, I plunged the blade upward through her throat.

Her eyes went wide, the beautiful green flooding with unforgiving black. My mouth opened involuntarily with a shout of effort, water finally flooding in and filling my lungs with frigid pain. Dark blood clouded the water between us. Her ear-shattering screech resounded through the depths as I twisted the knife, vertebrae shattering.

I hoped it fucking hurt.

The siren’s bony hands released me. Her true, corpse-like face was revealed as she sank, her screeches weakening and lost to the depths. The sunken eyes and elongated, bony form were eaten by the darkness—a vision that would haunt me.

Air. I needed air .

I kicked and clawed my way upward, fueled by a frantic mantra: Not like this. Just a bit further. Not like this. I can’t let her die.

I broke the surface, gasping and choking. The sweet taste of air burned my lungs. I drank it greedily, whipping my hair out of my face as I looked around. A familiar form caught my eye, standing a short distance away near the shore.

“ Jon! Hang on!” Cliff crashed through the knee-high water toward me.

I swam desperately, then crawled when my hands and feet hit the soft mud. He grabbed my arm, pulling me the last few feet to shore. I collapsed on the wet earth, breathing raggedly. I couldn’t get enough oxygen no matter what I did.

“You okay?” Cliff’s gruff voice anchored me. He wrenched up the tattered right sleeve of my tee, scrutinizing the fresh talon wounds that marred my skin.

“Where’s Sylvia?” I rasped.

A fresh surge of fear jolted me upright as I scanned the dark water surrounding the moss-covered building—what had nearly become our joint tomb.

“I have her,” Cliff said, opening his other hand for me to see.

Sylvia was shivering on hands and knees, coughing up water, but as she caught onto our concern, she flashed us a weak thumbs up. I went dizzy with relief.

“You’re bleeding,” she croaked, brow knitting at the sight of my arm.

I forced a weak smile. “I’ll take this over being fish dinner any day.”

Sylvia’s frown deepened, etched with fierce resolve. “Let me heal it—”

“Later,” Cliff interrupted. “You can’t even fucking stand.”

Like us, she was drenched to the bone. Her blood-stained gown was plastered to her body, and her wings sagged at her back, heavy and useless. An argument took shape in her expression as she reached for her side—but she went perfectly still when her hands found nothing.

“No,” she breathed. “Th-the bag—the gem!” She looked around wildly, pushing her hair back and looking like she would break down into sobs. “It m-must have slipped when—” Her eyes fixed on me .

“When I let you go,” I finished. Guilt cascaded onto me in waves colder than the swamp. I glanced back, knowing how deep the water ran. The gemstone had sunk to the bottom by now, lost. My jaw tightened. “It’s gone, Sylv. I’m sorry.”

A broken little sound rattled through her. It had all been for nothing. She had described the pull of the amethyst shard, the rush of wielding its power. I couldn’t imagine what she must have felt like now, a whole gemstone slipping from her grasp. The uncanny environment seemed to mock us now. I glimpsed the snow-white deer again, watching curiously. A glittering snake tail lashed here and there in the muck.

“Hey—how long were we in there?” Cliff sank to the ground next to me, frowning as we surveyed the area. Faint golden light in the trees surrounded us. Sunset—but it came from the wrong direction. I watched the light creep along the unusually flowered branches, realization hitting like a blow to the stomach.

It wasn’t dusk, it was dawn .

For the first time since waking in the godforsaken cavern, I noticed something off about Cliff’s appearance. I reached up and touched my own face, finding the scratch of stubble under my fingertips. At least two days’ worth. Cliff caught my stare and did the same, eyes widening as he came to the same horrifying conclusion.

We had lost two full days.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” I asked.

Cliff shook his head, gaze darkening, and I knew his memory was as foggy as mine after that first sip of wine.

“Those little assholes roofied us,” Cliff muttered.

A sudden noise pulled our attention back toward the water, making all three of us freeze up. The moss-covered structure quivered slightly. Ancient vines slithered away from the roof, creating an opening. Fairies began to emerge, iridescent wings flashing golden in the rising sun. In the branches around us, a flock of startled birds flew off as though they could sense the fallout to come.

Cliff and I scrambled to our feet. The deer fled.

“ Ay, cono, ” I breathed. My entire body and mind ached—but this wasn’t over.

Then, I heard it—the distant wailing rising from beneath the water.

The clamoring voices echoed, hungry and furious. My heart skipped a beat as ripples dotted the water’s surface. Sirens—dozens of them. With the protective ice barrier shattered, it would be less than minutes before they flooded the water.

I threw a look to Cliff and Sylvia, scanning them. We were exposed.Sylvia was as pale as a sheet, still trembling as she watched in a horrified daze. Two handguns and a few iron blades remained between Cliff and me. The rest of our arsenal was stowed in the trunk of our borrowed car, over a mile away.

All we could do was run.

We started toward the tree line. Outrunning an angry horde of fairies seemed impossible, but at the very least, we could get out of the sirens’ earshot. My heart sank at the realization that the water ran in every possible direction around here. If a siren could escape the outpost and make it here, there was no telling how easily they could catch up with us on the way to the car.

Noise came from within the tree line, making us falter. Engines revved and shouts echoed.

“You hear that?” one of the voices called. “It’s coming from over there!”

The familiarity of the voice made my skin crawl.

Rhett .

Normally, a pack of hunters would be a godsend, but with Rhett at their head, any safety would be temporary. We scrambled to the nearest underbrush and found cover behind too- vibrant leaves—affected by the proximity of gemstones. Headlights brighter than the dawn pierced through the trees.

Half a dozen vehicles came into view—pickup trucks and SUVs suited for the soft ground.

“Don’t look ‘em in the eyes, boys!” one of the hunters called out as he leaped from the passenger’s seat of a truck. “Just burn them all.”

Others hastened out of their vehicles—familiar faces from the outpost, rushing to meet the onslaught of sirens and fairies.

Cliff huffed. “Had to be a matter of time before they tracked us down.”

“Hey—they’ll keep each other occupied,” I muttered. “Let’s go.”

We snuck around the back of the vehicles and caught sight of spare weapons ready for the taking.Along the shoreline, I could hear the fight exploding—gunshots and crackling magic, the smell of singed flesh filling the air.

Cliff handed Sylvia to me and reached into the open trunk of a Jeep to grab a sawed-off shotgun. No sooner than Cliff had his hands on the weapon, two figures rounded the corner.

Two hunters, armed to hell.

“Everett!” one of them shouted. “He’s here! Over here!”

We had no time to react as a third hunter joined the duo—and they all pounced for Cliff. I would have lunged into the fray at once, but with Sylvia in my grasp, I hesitated a second too long. Cliff was overpowered, pushed against the side of the Jeep as zip ties were lashed around his wrists, binding his arms behind his back.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” he shouted, resisting viciously.

I staggered back behind the pickup truck, frantically looking for a safe place to lay Sylvia before I could rush to Cliff’s aid .

“Let me go!” Sylvia, still shivering, tried to elbow her way free of me. “What are they doing to him? Let me help!”

“No,” I hissed. “You can’t even fly right now! How do you expect to—”

Pain exploded against the back of my head.

The blow sent me to the ground, and past the stars swimming in my vision, I saw Cliff being dragged away. Sylvia tumbled from my hands, landing hard. As she groaned in pain and tried to sit up, everything in my brain told me to get up and fight, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.

Once again, I was failing her.

A low whistle came from behind. “You look like shit, Nowak,” Rhett said.

I managed to roll over. Anger and shock simmered through me, but I remained cautious, seeing the gun trained on me. He was armed to the teeth beyond that, too—slung with weapons and wielding a long metal rod in his other hand. As he crouched toward Sylvia, I found my voice.

“ Don’t ! I’ll fucking kill you if you hurt her,” I gritted out.

The temperature plummeted. Sylvia was on her knees, summoning ice that rapidly spread across the ground toward Rhett—but he was prepared. With a flick of his wrist, he swung the iron bar outward and pressed it on her stomach, forcing her onto her back. She gave a cry as her ice was snuffed out, crackling along the damp leaves. Only the thin fabric of her bloodied gown kept her skin from burning.

The absolute fear on her face made me fantasize about ripping out Rhett’s spine.

His punchably easygoing smile widened as Sylvia lowered her hands in surrender. He tucked the iron bar under his arm, and before she could bolt, he grabbed her by her shredded gown. He stood, gun still trained on me, while Sylvia squirmed to free herself .

“Now, calm down, sweetheart,” he crooned. “You’ll wear yourself out.”

“Go fuck yourself!” she snapped.

He chuckled. “The mouth on you. You sound like them .” His smirk traveled to me before he regarded her again, eyes bright. “Which means… you’re trainable, huh?”

Even from the ground, I could see the sickened look cross her face.

“I’m starting to see why they keep you around,” Rhett went on. “Must be useful on a hunt. I gotta say, it ain’t easy working solo these days.”

“I’m not doing anything for you,” she said, voice dripping with venom.

He shrugged as though nothing she said could shake him. “Cooperation or not, I’m getting what I want. I get the feeling I’m about to have a lot of fairy corpses on my hands. Maybe a few surrenders, if we’re lucky. You can either work with me and live a little longer—or I can take your blood and wings straight to the bank and win an early retirement. I’m thinking Margaritaville—what do you think?”

“You motherfucker,” I growled, trying to force myself up.

Rhett slammed his boot onto my clawed arm.

“No!” Sylvia wailed, her voice fuzzy at the edges as I seized up from the pain. “Leave him alone!”

“Oh, darling, you don’t think he’s leaving this shithole alive, do you?” He laughed. “First order of business, sweetheart. Put Jon Nowak out of his misery. Please. ”