Page 6

6

Jon

S ylvia had, thankfully, come to understand that she shouldn’t fly in front of the driver’s side of the car while she was admiring the landscape. I could hear her flitting around in the back seat, unable to settle on which window held the most interesting view. I was envious in a way; it would be nice to stretch my legs without sacrificing the efficiency of our drive time.

We had left the dense forests of the Ozarks seven hours behind us. Sylvia surely noticed our surroundings flattening; expansive fields ribboned with creeks stretching out on either side of the road as we drove deeper into Louisiana marshes, the setting sun reflected golden on the water.

“Uh, guys?” she called out from the backseat. Notching down the music, I twisted around to see her perched at the back passenger window, tapping the glass. “Shouldn’t we be taking care of that? That field is swarming with kelpies!”

“Horses,” I corrected, suppressing a bemused smile at the reminder that Sylvia knew more of monsters than ordinary animals from her limited studies in Elysia. “They’re totally harmless. All they’ll do is eat the grass out there and shit. Most people love them.”

“Herds of anything are rarely harmless ,” Sylvia muttered, a pinch in her expression. “But I suppose I’ll trust your judgement.”

She looked between me and the field once more before spreading her wings and looping gracefully back to the other side .

“We gotta make a side trip to a zoo sometime so she can see a giraffe,” Cliff remarked under his breath, grinning ear to ear. “She’ll lose her fucking mind.”

I snickered as I imagined her pretty face contorting into utter shock as she followed the length of the animal’s long neck. I indulged further, picturing Sylvia lighting up as we encountered more impressive landscapes as we journeyed west: rolling hills, wide-open skies, and eventually, the alpine meadows and foothills of the Rocky Mountains. I could practically hear her awed gasp in my ear and see the flush in her freckled cheeks.

But the more we saw, the less time we would have together.

Leaving her was inevitable—it was right . But I wasn’t in the mood to dwell. As it was, Sylvia’s presence was surreal. This beautiful, ethereal creature chose me.

I never understood how some people softened at the edges and let someone in without flinching, without fear. I’d long since resigned myself to the easy routine of one night stands and the detachment of fleeting hunting partners; no expectations, no strings, sometimes not even names. Entanglement without feeling was simpler, even preferable at times. Solitude fit snugly, familiar like a well-worn glove.

But Sylvia—she knew how to pry open my carefully laid armor with a grace that made my chest ache—gentler than any woman had ever been to me. The vulnerability chafed sometimes, if only for a moment. Even as I was drawn into her, I knew I couldn’t keep her, which only reminded me of why I’d built those damn walls up in the first place.

I had to let her go.

Storm clouds gathered on the horizon, casting a shadow over the already darkening road ahead, as though mirroring my surly train of thought. I hoped it would pass quickly; we were only an hour out from our destination. Not that I was keen on arriving. If there were any other outposts within range, we wouldn’t be headed anywhere near this place. Too many memories. Too much risk. The Underground in New York or the Nevada Outpost were much further drives—too risky to be undersupplied that long and unfair to Sylvia to stretch our journey longer than we already had.

After another minute, Sylvia found a perch by my window. A faint wince crossed her face as she folded her wings. She must have been particularly sore to finally settle. Her yawn seemed to stretch out forever. Any concerns I voiced would be brushed off, but I studied the exposed line of her navel. The bruising was stark against her fair skin, though mostly hidden by her elegant, earth-colored wrap sweater.At least she was resting now.

“Jon, can I ask you something?” Sylvia said.

The half-lidded look she swept over my body caught my attention. “Fire away.”

She arched her back, a coy smile curving her lips that matched the fox-like sparkle in her eyes. “Now that you know I’m not a vicious creature of the night… Is the spark of excitement between us gone?”

I huffed out a chuckle, forcing my tone into a deadpan drawl. “It’s funny you ask because yes—it is. Not a spark in sight.”

A playful pout flashed over her face. With a flick of her wings, she was airborne—landing on my shoulder.

“Maybe I’ll show you more of my tricks, then,” she breathed.“One. By. One.”

I felt her soft body press deliberately against the sensitive skin of my neck as she stretched out an arm to tap my throat in three spots to punctuate her words, fingertips so cold that it was almost painful. I moistened my lips, but my mind was abruptly blank, and I could only manage a pathetic little exhale. The fact that this kind of thing worked on me was almost embarrassing. Jesus, what was wrong with me ?

Sylvia’s musical chuckle sounded to my right as she pressed her hand over my fluttering pulse. “I can feel your heart racing. It’s out of control.”

The car made a sudden swerve, and Sylvia was knocked into the air with a yelp. Catching herself in a hover, she glared at Cliff.

“If you give him another boner, I’m throwing you out the window,” Cliff said, pulling a hand off the wheel to stab a finger in her direction. “I’m not kidding this time.”

The memory alone made me avert my gaze guiltily, but Sylvia made only a growl of irritation as she returned to sit by my window. “We’ve been driving for ages. How do you expect me to keep to myself for eight hours ?”

“Well, it’s less than one now, you little freak. You’re almost out of the woods. Are all fairies this horny?”

“Feeling left out?” Sylvia batted her eyes at him.

Cliff ignored her and turned up the music.

She shared a comfortable grin with me, one that lingered as she settled into her perch. “Your playlists are getting stale,” she called over to Cliff. “Can you play ‘Rocket Man’ again?”

Forcing a neutral smile, I cringed internally. The first time she belted along off-key to Elton John was adorable. The seventh time was downright grating, though I’d cut off a finger before telling her that.

“Nope,” Cliff blessedly interjected. “Guns N’ Roses until we get there.”

She huffed. “It sounds so angry. How can you stand it?”

An argument might have occupied the rest of the trip if my phone didn’t start ringing. As I pulled it up, the incoming video call made my eyes widen, and I realized— fuck , it was the first Saturday of the month. Usually, I made sure that I could answer this call privately, but there was nowhere to go.

“Jon?” Sylvia cocked her head up at me, frowning. “Are you alright? ”

I swallowed hard. If I ignored the call, I’d have to wait another month—maybe even longer. Fixing Sylvia with the calmest look I could manage, I said, “Stay there until I hang up. It’s a video call.”

Her eyes swam with questions, but she nodded.

Straightening, I held my phone in front of my face and tried to block out Cliff and Sylvia’s heavy silence. When I accepted the call, I smiled as though I didn’t spend most of my time trying not to fall apart.

“ Hola, Tia ,” I said, reaching over to lower the radio volume. “We’re on the road—sorry about the noise.”

Tia Sonia sighed with relief. “ Mijito , I thought you weren’t going to answer! How are you? How’s work?”

“Same old.” I rolled my eyes. “Heading to Michigan to meet with a client.”

“ Ay , why can’t they send you closer to home? There are plenty of factories right here.”

“ Claro que sí, pero they’re trying to reach more of the Midwest. I’ll come around to visit when I can. Promise.” I focused on the screen, shame heaping onto me as Sylvia witnessed how easily I lied through my teeth. I cleared my throat. “Mom’s there? She’s talking today?”

“ Sí , the nurses said she had a rough night, but we’ve been having a nice late lunch together.” She gave me a meaningful smile, then looked past the camera. “Ivette. Es tu hijo . ?Quieres saludar? ”

“Jon?” Mom’s voice wavered. “ Dámelo .”

My throat tightened when her face filled the screen. Dark eyes, wavy black hair that had gone dull over the years. Still, when she found me on the screen and her expression lit up, she was the most beautiful person to have ever existed. She had been too unwell the past couple months to be cleared for visitors at the hospital. Now, her grin was like a medicine I didn’t realize I’d been deprived of.

“Mom,” I said, fighting to keep my tone light and casual. “ ?Qué tal? ”

She grimaced dramatically. “ Estoy llena . You know your tia always brings too much food. You should come have some.”

I hesitated, unsure if she was joking or not—it was always hard to tell. So I shrugged. “Maybe I can come around for Christmas. I’ll make you pasteles . How does that sound?”

Her eyes hardened a little. “Why can’t you come now?”

“I’m on the road, Mama . Working.”

That didn’t make her any less agitated. “Always working,” she muttered. “At least let me talk to your dad. Adam?” Her voice rose suddenly. “Adam? Are you driving?”

My heart sank. “No, Mom—Dad’s not driving.”

She blinked. “Let me talk to him.”

“Sorry, he—he can’t.”

I knew by her expression that she was too far gone. The sudden stillness, the blank stare. Tia Sonia saw it, too. She murmured delicately for Mom to say goodbye and hand the phone back.

“No.” Mom’s voice dropped to a whisper, jerking back.

Tia Sonia made a soft noise of comfort. “Ivette—”

“No!” Mom screamed. “No, no, no!” Each word was like a punch. “Where’s Adam? Where is he?”

The phone was yanked away, the video going dark. “ Mijito , we’ll catch up later—she’ll be okay. No te preocupes. ”

In the background, I could hear orderlies trying to get Mom under control. And then, the call ended. The car plunged into silence.

“Sometimes a short call is better, yeah?” Cliff remarked after a weighty pause. He reached over and clapped my shoulder, the gruff motion somewhat easing my lingering sense of fragility.

I muttered my agreement, shoving my phone into my jeans pocket. She had remembered my name the last three calls. That was something, at least.

“They think I’m a sales rep for a machinery company,” I said, glancing at Sylvia to answer the burning question she was too kind to ask. “It’s just… easier this way.”

As the rhythmic hum of the engine carried on, Sylvia flew back to my shoulder, nuzzling up against my neck like a touch-starved kitten.

“Hey—I’m fine, Sylv,” I said, an affectionate smile pulling at my lips.

“Everybody knows ‘fine’ is the worst answer,” reproached her dulcet voice in my ear.

Jesus , she was cute. I reached up to rub her side, burying the stab of pain that tightened my throat—the pain of wondering where I would be right now, what my life would be like if my father had never been possessed by that fucking spirit.

Why me? Nearly a decade had passed, and the question had lost none of its acrid sting.

In the distance, thunder rolled viciously. A flicker of lightning cut through the black clouds. Sylvia tensed up against me, cursing softly.

Cliff cursed much less softly, side-eying her perch with equal parts concern and irritation.

“This oughta be a peaceful drive,” he muttered.

He tossed a look at me, well-versed with Sylvia’s fear of thunder, even if he didn’t know the reason behind it. I tightened my hold on her as raindrops splattered onto the windshield, a gradual drumming that became a roar. She was shivering against me, her easygoing demeanor sapping like a switch had been flipped. No matter how she tried to shake her terrible childhood memory, that single moment had etched itself into her very being.

Thick clouds ate away the golden light of dusk, steeping us in a darkness that belonged to a far later hour. A few miles in, the car’s headlights struggled to pierce more than a yard ahead of us. I frowned, noting through the lashing windshield wipers that the land on either side of us was already waterlogged.

“Damn it!” Cliff tapped the brakes, sending me lurching forward in my seat to narrowly avoid a collision with the minivan swerving in front of us.

I squinted through the heavy droplets of the passenger’s side window. The minivan sat in the emergency lane, winking hazard lights like dying fireflies. It vanished in the storm’s embrace, leaving us the sole vehicle on the road.

Another crackle of thunder rattled the sky. The pinpricks of Sylvia’s fingers dug into my neck.

Her breathing huffed irregularly as she fought to find her voice. “Can’t we head back and wait out the storm? Why go toward it when that other car was in a rush to get away?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cliff said, eyes set forward. “I know what I’m doing. Just hang tight.”

The next thunderous crash lasted even longer, like several rumbles rolled into one.

Sylvia shuddered. “Cliff—”

“Let me focus.”

“Cliff, please .” Mierda , she sounded close to tears.

“I’ve driven through plenty of storms,” he said wearily. “Trust me.”

Rain pelted the car, filling Sylvia’s answering silence. The thick, inky darkness beyond the headlight beams was barely visible, but I caught glimpses of trees beginning to crowd near the road. They did little to protect us, only creating more shadows. If I recalled correctly from our previous trips to the outpost, our path was little more than a strip of land cutting through the swamps by this point.

Before long, the wipers did jackshit to keep the road in view. As Sylvia trembled against me, my mind filled with images of the car missing a turn and plunging into the swamp .

“Hey,” I said evenly. “We might be better off pulling off to the side and waiting this out.”

Cliff grunted. “Hell no—we’ll get flooded if we sit around. The quickest way out of this is through it.”

“It’s two against one,” Sylvia snapped.

Judging by the set of his jaw, Cliff was doing everything in his power not to snap back. “It’s not a vote,” he muttered. “Close your eyes, cover your ears, whatever you gotta do.”

Another beat of silence. Then Sylvia flinched dramatically—without thunder or lightning this time. “What was that ?” she uttered.

“What?” I asked.

“There—through the window. There was something in the water.”

Narrowing my eyes at the glass, I wondered how the hell she could discern anything except torrential rain and scraggly vegetation. “I don’t see anything,” I said.

I meant to soothe her, but intention meant nothing when another streak of lightning filled the sky. The promise of another thunderclap put her over the edge.

“I saw it! I felt it—”

Her voice tapered off when the thunder hit. Her skin suddenly felt bitingly cold against my neck. I pulled her in front of me, rubbing her upper arm with my thumb. She was almost painful to touch, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go. She buried her face in her hands, shoulders heaving.

“I’m here, Sylv,” I whispered, bringing her closer and cupping my hands to block out the downpour. “I’ve got you. We’re safe.”

She gave a little nod, head down.

Soothing her worked for all of five minutes—until there was a crash of thunder that shook the entire car. Cliff and I cursed in unison, and Sylvia shrieked. As she hyperventilated, a crackling sound caught my ear. My eyes widened when I peeked up from her to find ice crawling onto the passenger-side window.

“Sylv—hey, hey , you’re alright,” I breathed, watching with wide eyes as the frost spread. My hands were freezing cold.

“What the fuck?” Cliff barked. Ice had started spider-webbing from the corner of the windshield. “Get your shit together, Sylv! I can’t see through your fucking ice!”

“I’m trying!” she cried back viciously.

“Whatever you’re trying’s not working!”

“Don’t yell at her!” I snapped at Cliff.

“I’m just trying to get us there in one piece.”

The air in the car was so frigid that our exclamations were visible puffs. My fingers were growing numb.

“I—I told you we shouldn’t be here!” Sylvia cut back at Cliff.

“We’ll be fine if you just—”

A vicious CRACK sounded ahead of us, and the headlights caught the flash of a huge branch falling directly into our path. The tires squealed as Cliff swerved. I pulled Sylvia close against me as weightlessness flipped my stomach. A brief but brilliant pain exploded behind my eyes before the world went dark.

I was wading through fog. My head throbbed with pain, the pungent tang of burnt rubber making me choke on my next breath.

“Oh, thank the stars—you’re breathing. Jon? Jon , wake up!”

Through my daze, I heard her voice: melodic even in her stringent urgency.

With great effort, I moved my lips. “Sylvia?”

Scraps of sensation pulled me back to consciousness, little by little: the seat belt cutting across my chest, rain drumming on the windows, the hissing gurgle of cold water seeping against my boots.

Wait— water?

A frustrated flit of wings preceded another twinge of pain—a lock of my hair being sharply tugged. Groaning, I opened my eyes. Sylvia darted back as I reached up to gingerly brush the tender spot on my head where I must’ve slammed it against the window. No nausea or crippling dizziness, all limbs responding without numbness. It seemed I had made it through without a concussion, at least.

The windshield bore a menacing crack, a spiderweb of fissures obscuring our view beyond. Frigid night air seeped through the glass, mingling with relentless rainwater as the storm battered on outside. Beside me, Cliff was fumbling to unbuckle himself with a groan. Sylvia flew to him, summoning a cerulean glow to her skin. Her ethereal light danced around the car’s interior, and a jolt of shock hit me as I registered our precarious angle.

Half the vehicle was submerged in the swamp.

“What hurts?” Sylvia demanded an inch from Cliff’s face.

“M’fine,” he hissed, brushing her away—urging her to land. “Get out of the air.”

“You could have hit your head, you idiot,” she said in a wavering voice. “You probably did !”

Cliff’s jaw set. “Your wings are gonna get drenched, and then what? You plan on swimming out of here?”

He gestured at a dry spot on the dash, mostly devoid of glass shards. Sylvia wavered, then did as he said.

Sluggishly, I unbuckled and tested my range of movement. Then Sylvia gave a sharp gasp, patting down her waist and leggings. I went still, studying her posture for any sign of injury as she felt around her waist. Fuck , she could have been…

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

“Barely even dizzy. You caught me,” Sylvia said, searching around distractedly. She sighed, her eyes swimming with almost-tears as they darted from me to Cliff to the pitch-black forest waiting outside. “It’s just—I can’t find the necklace you gave me. The clasp must’ve finally given up. Damn it. But never mind that now—we can’t stay here.”

Armed with what meager supplies we kept in the glovebox, Cliff and I climbed out of the car. The water hit up to my knees, sinking into my jeans uncomfortably. Sylvia tucked herself against my neck, seeing as her wings were useless in the deluge. I couldn’t tell if she was shivering from shock or cold, and I hated that I couldn’t do more to assuage her discomfort.

Eyeing the car’s position lodged between two waterlogged mangroves at the base of the sloping road, I supposed the fact that we were alive was its own comfort.

Every step sloshed as I joined Cliff at the back of the car. As he produced a flashlight and began pocketing a small arsenal, I pulled out my cell phone.

“No signal,” I said, squinting at the phone screen. “ Puneta . We’ll have to walk to the next town to get a tow. I think it’s six miles.”

My fingers quickly lost purchase on the wet glass, making it unusable. I tucked it away again, swallowing a shout of frustration.

“We can just follow the road, right?” Sylvia said, her voice still rife with nerves. I wanted so badly to hold her, but my soaked hands wouldn’t be of any help.

Cliff passed a couple of handguns to me, expression taut. “Genius,” he said under his breath.

I shot him a reproachful glare as I tucked the weapons away safely. Sylvia had done nothing to deserve his temper, but I conceded to the shiver of shock that lay beneath his coarse tone.

Cliff’s flashlight flickered as we rummaged through the trunk. He cursed, hitting the handle. This earned a few more moments of dim illumination before the batteries went out altogether, and darkness plunged around us. The drum of the freezing rain seemed to intensify as we willed our eyes to adjust, feeling blindly for the most crucial supplies.

A faint whisper came by my ear—and then a soft cerulean light blossomed. We stopped short, craning our necks; the glow Sylvia’s had conjured to her skin had detached into a fae light. The orb hung brightly over our heads, illuminating a five-foot radius around us. It brought the rippling water and moss-laden trees around us into focus—along with the supplies.

“Thanks,” Cliff muttered, locating two working flashlights in the clutter of our belongings. He tucked them both into a backpack with the other weapons and slung it over his shoulder.

“Not a problem,” Sylvia responded just as snippily.

Cliff straightened, his green eyes flashing at her in the peculiar light. “If you’re gonna be like this all night—”

“ Me ?” I felt Sylvia gesture widely at the torrential downpour. “We wouldn’t have had an issue if you hadn’t insisted on plowing through. But that’s what you do best, isn’t it?”

A whip of lightning split the sky above us, followed by a monstrous roll of thunder. Sylvia’s snarl tapered into a whimper of fear, and she curled against me to ground herself. Cliff’s gaze hardened on her, like this was condemning.

“The issue is you can’t control yourself. If you were an actual hunter, you’d be a goddamn liability,” he gritted out.

“Enough. Lay the hell off her,” I snapped.

Silence stretched following my words, like all the air had been sucked from the clearing. I shot a withering glare at Cliff. He faltered as our eyes met, the anger fleeing his expression as he glanced back at Sylvia, then to me again. I couldn’t see her face, but a new tension radiated off her in waves .

“Let’s focus on getting the hell out of here,” I voiced firmly.

Cliff swept a hand through his hair, the cropped blond strands damp and plastered messily against his forehead. He nodded wordlessly, pulling a black tarp over the remainder of our arsenal and reaching up to slam the trunk shut. With each of us burdened with a bag, we had the essentials that we couldn’t risk being flooded with water.

We turned, and Sylvia’s fae light followed our movements as we gathered our bearings. Finding the slope of the road, we started forward. The mud sucked at my boots with every step, slowing our progress to a miserable trudge.

“You have the energy to keep that up?” I asked Sylvia, nodding at the light. I tried to keep my tone level, but I swore she could hear the protective thoughts swirling in the back of my head.

“Do you have to ask every time?” She sounded so weary. “It’s not a difficult spell. I won’t melt from the effort. When we get to the next town, obviously I’ll—”

A sudden lurch in the water jolted through the darkness— behind us.

I whipped around, my heart pounding. Cliff already had a small blade in his hands, scanning the shadows. The water’s surface was jarred by the constant rain, making it nearly impossible to discern the source of the movement.

“Fucking stars, it’s—something’s—” Sylvia stammered, her voice coming out in short, urgent bursts.

My blood went cold. Any comforting notion of a wild animal moving through the storm vanished; Sylvia’s sense for non-human creatures was never wrong.

A faint collection of bubbles gurgled up from beneath the tossing tide. Sylvia’s pale blue light couldn’t penetrate the depths. I staggered back in the water a few steps, my mind conjuring images of bony hands seizing my ankles and dragging me down, down—

A shadow surged beneath the water, zagging toward the submerged wreckage of the Pontiac, perhaps for cover. At the same instant, Sylvia gave a harsh cry, and a gale of ice shot through the blackness. The frost connected like a bullet, crackling as it spread a thick layer of ice over the water, three feet in diameter.

We stood, waiting for the mysterious presence to retaliate. Cliff and I looked behind us, mindful of every crackling branch. It wasn’t uncommon for monsters to travel in packs. As I made a slow circle of my position, I began to form a contingency for how to protect Sylvia’s life while her wings were soaked. She couldn’t fly, which meant she couldn’t leave my side. Fuck .

A tense minute passed, with only the faint roll of thunder and the steady drum of rain mingling with our heavy breathing.

Finally, Sylvia slumped against me, a rush of air escaping her. “It’s gone—whatever it was.”

Mild relief washed over me. Not for the first time, I wished I shared her supernatural sense for the mere comfort of confirming that we were alone again in the marsh.

“Rougarou?” I asked, my stomach knotting at the very idea of facing the haggard, werewolf-like creature in this state. I exchanged a harrowed look with Cliff, who seemed to share my mixture of relief and persisting dread.

Rougarous were smaller than their urban counterparts, but what they lacked in size, they accommodated with speed and savagery. I’d heard of a family of hunters in the South who had devoted themselves to keeping Rougarou numbers in check over the last two decades. Still, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of belief that some poor soul had been taken victim to the curse.

“I don’t think so,” Sylvia said. “I mean, I can’t be sure. It felt like… glamour. Almost like fae glamour . But—that’s impossible. No one would be able to fly in this weather. They’d drown in minutes. ”

Still, uncertainty lilted in her voice like she wasn’t quite convinced. She moved her fae light higher, scanning the web of tree branches overhead, curtained by swathes of moss that swayed in the urgent breeze. I half expected to see dozens of tiny, winged silhouettes peering down at us like dark sentinels where her light touched.

But like the water, the branches were vacant. The emptiness began to feel like a mockery, raising hairs on my arms that refused to quell.

I peered all around us, paying special attention to the submerged section of the car, where something could easily take refuge out of sight. I pulled out my flashlight to sweep a second beam over the rain-pelted water, but nothing stirred.

“Let’s go,” Cliff’s voice carried over the storm. “No need to sit around and wait for it to get desperate.”

Sylvia put up no word of protest, still scanning the unsettling gaps of inky darkness that lay beyond the glow of her spellwork.