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25

Jon

I swallowed a gag when I stepped into the clearing. Body parts bobbed in the foamy black water, a grim mix of human and fairy. The number of attacking sirens had dwindled by half, but I only saw two scaly bodies on the bank, bronze blades protruding from the bony backs. Perhaps the others were beneath the surface in a watery grave. A tiny, iridescent wing, severed from its host, lapped against the shore with every beat of the tide. Fresh bile rose in my throat.

I glanced between the abandoned shotgun up ahead and the foggy shore, desperate to get eyes on Cliff.

Four outpost hunters were left, shouts mingling with measured gunfire and the eerie, melodic hums of remaining sirens. On the slope to my left, movement pulled my eyes—burly, decked head-to-toe in tactical camo—coming straight for me. The hunter’s gaze locked onto mine, then shifted to the pickup truck behind me. Recognition flashed over his face, followed by suspicion. I glanced down at the handgun I clutched— Rhett’s gun.

Resolved, I stepped into his path. He swung first, his serrated bronze hunting knife aimed at my stomach. I dodged, countering with a brutal blow to the ribs. He groaned but didn’t buckle. The hunter snarled and pushed forward like a bull—throwing his weight on me, grabbing a fistful of my black tee. The contact sent pain radiating down my wounded shoulder, but I dug my heels into the yielding earth, throwing him off to ensure he had no chance of glimpsing where I’d stashed Sylvia.

He charged at me again—as I knew he would. I caught his free arm and twisted hard enough to make him stagger. I followed with a blow to his throat. The hunter doubled over, his breathing turning to ragged gasps as his windpipe collapsed. I stood over him, considering a targeted kick to the liver to end this quickly.

Then— rustling .

The sound came from behind me in the branches, making hair rise on the back of my neck. The muddy earth roiled and gave way beneath my feet like it was opening into hell itself. Vines shot up like vipers as three fairies looped gracefully toward us, their wings glinting an iridescent array of colors in the rising sun.

Fucking earth affinities .

I released the other hunter as the vines slithered toward us with alarming speed. He cried out, gasping as the vines coiled around his legs, up his waist, dragging him down.

“ Help !” The man lunged, grasping my leg and pulling desperately. Whether he meant to drag himself free or doom us both, I wouldn’t let it happen. With a grunt, I shoved him off, tearing free of the fresh vines curling around my mud-caked boots. His eyes bulged with panic as the vines coiled over his neck, clawing him onto the ground with unearthly strength.

A hiss came from above—one of the fairies, hands aglow with spellwork that targeted me. I lifted the handgun and fired off a round into the branches to disorient them, just long enough to sprint out of range.

The man’s cries for help became garbled behind me. I stole a look over my shoulder and winced. The vines cocooned his body against the dirt. The fairies were three pricks of light hovering above him, untouchable. With the other hunters occupied at the water, he had no escape .

I didn’t wait to watch as the vines pulled into the earth, dragging his body inside like a cruel sacrifice.

I ran through the cypress, the water sparkling ahead of me. A stocky female hunter stood boldly on the water’s edge, shielding her eyes with one arm and firing a harpoon into the swamp with the other. One of her shots struck true, hitting a siren—which cried a warbled, watery moan as it vanished beneath the surface.

Don’t look them in the eye .

I threw an arm over my face, looking up only sparingly as I navigated through the trees. Even a brief glance could end me—could leave Sylvia trapped and vulnerable—so I moved from one shadow to the next. I dodged the earth affinities’ attention, pausing only to scoop up the shotgun from the mud. I checked the safety and tucked the handgun into the waistband of my sodden jeans, letting the familiar weight of the shotgun settle in my palms.

I pressed forward, my focus finally landing on my target: Cliff. He burst out from the foliage, having finally snapped his restraints. He dove for the nearest handgun beside a corpse halfway in the water. He searched around wildly until his eyes found me past the other hunters who still stood between us. They, at least, had their hands full with fighting for their lives.

If I could just get to him, we could turn the tides on this fuckshow and get the hell out of there.

My mind spun with strategy and formation as we raced toward each other. If I could take out the sirens while he kept the fairies at bay, we could push through. With the hunters’ numbers dwindling, I doubted they’d be stupid enough to make us a target, no matter how pissed.

To my horror, a siren was bold enough to drag herself past the water. She lunged, digging her talons into Cliff’s leg before he could see her coming. Attempting to shake her off, he whirled to shoot her. The siren pulled at him— hard . Cliff staggered—and his eyes caught hers.

He went perfectly still.

“Cliff!” I shouted, but it was too late.

His expression went blank, and instead of stumbling toward the water, he gazed along the shoreline. He set his sights on the other hunters and raised his gun. I watched in helpless, abject horror as the most lethal hunter in the country took aim against his own.

I loosed a shaky curse under my breath. There was no fucking chance of dodging a shot if he shot at me—but there were a couple of other hunters between us, too distracted to notice his allegiance had changed.

Keeping my eyes trained away from the water, I surged forward.

Even when he wasn’t himself, Cliff’s skills were a sight to behold. Incredible. Terrifying.

BLAM— the female hunter hit the ground with a thud.

BLAM —another one cried out and stumbled too close to the water. At once, he was swarmed by sirens, vanishing into the depths.

Cliff’s vacant gaze moved to me.

With no one left between us, I raised the shotgun and aimed it at the siren controlling Cliff. I tried to be unpredictable, tried to sidestep as Cliff took aim, but it wasn’t enough. He fired first. Pain exploded above my kneecap. The impact made me stumble and sent my own shot wide, missing the siren.

Cliff squeezed the trigger again— click .

As he moved to reload, I abandoned my weapon and dove to tackle him. My leg gave out from under me, sending him down, too. Cliff fought viciously—an unsettling sight while his eyes were utterly devoid of emotion. Every muscle in his body tensed with brutal, unrestrained force. An elbow connected with my stomach, inciting a sharp pain that stole my breath.

“Listen!” I hissed. “Cliff, listen ! You need to—look away!”

As I struggled to keep my arms locked around Cliff, I registered how easy it would be to slam his head down, to knock him out entirely, but I couldn’t do that—not to him.

Unless I had no other choice.

I managed to get him in a headlock, forcing his body away from the siren, rolling us into the cover of buttonbush while she desperately sought his attention a few meters away. She couldn’t come further onto land, no matter how she snarled at me.

Gradually, Cliff’s struggles lessened under my panicked hold. I worried he was losing consciousness. If he went out cold, I’d have his body to drag out of here along with Sylvia’s—but then I heard his voice.

“Sweet,” Cliff rasped. “You remembered I like being the little spoon.”

I released him, too relieved to even roll my eyes.

“Thanks,” he added more seriously, swiping his gun from the ground. He rubbed one of his wrists, still red from breaking through the zip ties. “Dunno why the fuck Rhett and his band of fuckwads want me so bad, but—”

A haunting song filled the air—the siren's renewed effort to win our eye contact, to pull us back under that dark blanket of comforting numbness. If it went on for much longer, I knew I’d look. I knew I’d cave to that beautiful, tender promise of peace.

As Cliff and I peeled away from each other, he reloaded and raised his gun in the direction of the song.

“Am I good?” he asked.

I flitted my eyes to the side briefly, looking only at the bony, blood-stained hands braced on the ground. The siren’s attention was focused on reclaiming Cliff, but I could feel more resolve waver within me, too.

Look , a voice itched. Just one quick look .

“A little higher,” I forced out .

Cliff adjusted. BLAM . The siren shrieked and fell limply on the bank.

We scrambled to our feet, glancing cautiously toward the tangle of hair spread over the ground, concealing her face.

Unmoving.

I leaned heavily on the nearest tree to support my weight. The pain from the bullet lodged in my leg flashed through me with every breath. Cliff’s face darkened as he stood beside me, his gaze fixed on the blood soaking through the waterlogged denim.

“Fuck, what happened to you?” Cliff said.

I gave him a tight, shadowed look. It wasn’t really him who’d shot me. “It’s fine,” I bit out. “I can get out of here. Just give me a hand.”

Cliff’s eyes widened, catching the words I wouldn’t say. I saw the guilt cross his face as he surveyed the clearing, swallowing as the realization of what he had done clicked into place.

Only two hunters were left alive. One was fleeing for his life with ragged breaths, vanishing through the trees. The other, though, made me falter. It was the same figure Cliff and I had seen through the window of the outpost just the day before— Cain .

He was splattered with blood, looking ready to collapse as he staggered along the shore. Although he was facing in our direction, something had caught his eye, and he took no notice of us. He ducked into the shoreline foliage—straight for Rhett.

My heart slammed into my throat. I cursed and tore after him—limping, with every step coursing agony through me. Cliff was right behind me, footsteps steadily pounding the earth.

“Cain!” I shouted. “Cain, leave him!”

He threw a disgusted look over his shoulder, chest heaving from the damage he had taken. We were still yards away when he cursed and turned back to Rhett.

A dead siren was floating on the tide, mere feet away from Rhett’s limp legs. She had feasted before death. One of Rhett’s limbs was bloody but salvageable. The other looked beyond saving—ravaged to the bone. Swollen, crimson marks marred his symmetrical face— my marks , I thought with barely subdued pride.

Rage made my chest tighten as I watched Cain saw through the zip tie with a pocket knife. He clapped his hands on Rhett’s face, reviving him. Although Rhett was groggy, he was quick to come to his bearings, those wicked blue eyes darting from point to point. Sheer fucking willpower and adrenaline could be the only explanations for his ability to snap out of the shock of his injuries.

“Up, boy! Get up!” Cain rasped as he helped Rhett lean on him, setting sights on the truck—far too close to where Sylvia was caged.

The buzzing of wings caught my ear.

Cliff heard it too, throwing out an arm to stop me from pushing right into the two enemy fairies as they flew into view. They were angry, grieving—I could see the way they looked at the corpse of the siren before unleashing a torrent of fire and searing lightning toward Rhett and Cain.

Rhett didn’t hesitate. With shocking clarity, he leaned hard against the truck and yanked Cain in front of him, using him as a human shield. Cain’s screams choked off as he charred, the stench of it cloying the air. His body crumpled, and Rhett sank to the ground, unable to support himself on his ruined leg. The front of his clothing was charred from the attack, skin angry red beneath.

He groped behind him for something—Sylvia was less than a meter away behind the truck, just up the slope. He was dragging himself along the ground, his legs scarcely usable. His roar of agony with each inch gained was raw and animal.

I snapped back into movement. I knew what I had to do.This time, I didn’t care if Sylvia watched. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would kill Rhett to protect her—to protect all of us. But as I charged, Rhett finally reached the slightly ajar passenger door. I thought he might try to climb in and peel off in the truck, but he groped inside desperately and withdrew something that froze me in place.

His flamethrower.

“Holy fuck,” Cliff breathed beside me, staggering further out of Rhett’s path, keeping to the shadows of the trees.

Horror licked up my spine as Rhett squeezed the trigger with a roar. Flames erupted in midair. He was so far gone from the tentative control he had wielded all those years ago in Oregon. Now, Rhett was using no strategy, no aim—just setting everything ablaze. The two fairies who’d killed Cain jolted backward.

Rhett forced himself to stand with a heave of tortured effort, dragging what remained of his ruined leg behind him, squeezing the trigger nonstop to blow the flames further, catching more trees and underbrush in his path. Exposed bone and shredded muscle left a dark trail as he moved—and his scream of agony became a war cry.

Several fairies dove toward the flames—fire affinities, I realized, trying to bend the inferno away from their midair position. For a moment, they were successful—wrangling the fire the way stallions could be broken.

But another shrill cry pierced the air, small and agonized. One of the other fairies was consumed in the blaze and plummeted from the air. This broke the fire affinities’ concentration, just for a second. It was enough. Rhett’s flames surged forward. More fairies crowded toward him on the offensive, wielding every affinity I’d ever heard about. Lightning singed Rhett’s chest, burning him. He sank to the ground, too far away to lean on the truck now.

He kept his weapon aimed upward, unrelenting. Two more winged bodies dropped, and I couldn’t watch anymore. The wildness in Rhett’s eyes was manic, his face aglow and shining with sweat.

He wouldn’t stop. He’d burn this whole fucking place down to get what he wanted—Sylvia, us, the Velorian compound.

Now , a voice in my head barked. Run, now!

I exchanged a look with Cliff, his steely resolve mirroring mine. We tore behind the bed of the pickup truck, out of Rhett’s line of sight as the heat from his flamethrower burned at our backs. My leg screamed with every step, but it mattered less when Sylvia came into sight.

Relief hit me like a wave. She was still in the cage, her face pallid and her arms caked in dirt. Small rivets were clawed into the earth near the iron bars. She had been trying to dig her way out—to no avail. She was seated in the center, looking sick and paler than I’d ever seen her, but she was alive .

“Sylv,” I breathed, wrenching the cage off of her, tossing it aside.

I could’ve sworn color rushed back into her face the moment she was freed. But she wouldn’t look at me. Her gaze skirted around us towards the water, and I realized she was still hoping to glimpse the gemstone. My throat closed. I wished I could comb the entire bayou with her to find it. Its loss stung—more collateral damage.

“Come on. We gotta go,” Cliff said, scooping Sylvia off the ground.

I was silently grateful for his initiative, unsure if I could bring myself to touch her right now. Not when she bore that vicious look when her eyes skirted toward me—like she was dreaming of driving a knife of ice through my ribs. For a brief, irrational moment, I thought she would; I thought she might conjure spellwork to attack me now that the iron no longer quelled her magic.

Sylvia’s wilted silence somehow stabbed even deeper.

Cliff took the wheel of the truck, finding the keys were still in the ignition. Sylvia sat on the dashboard as he peeled out of the clearing, tires grinding on the uneven terrain. The rising sun flashed through the tree line, making my eyes ache. Gradually, branches dripping with iridescent, gemstone-altered flowers and fruit morphed into ordinary leaves, dark and bearded by moss.

“Don’t look, Sylv,” Cliff said. “Don’t look back.”

Facing the backseat, her gaze was already vacant. I followed her stare. Through the back window, pinpricks of wavering light glinted in the fire—burning fairies. Her own kind. Bodies of sirens and hunters lay scattered along the shore. Fire caught along the underbrush, clouding the world with smoke.