Page 14

W arily, I consider the woman.

When she speaks of a bone of Typhon, she can only be referring to the White Wand. It was an ancient bone of that primordial deity, who was the father of all monsters.

I took hold of the bone and used it to defeat my enemies before I gave it to Striker and made him choose his path. He chose life.

I’m not sure how this woman could even know that I came into contact with the bone, let alone held it.

And I’m not sure how to ask her without giving away information about myself.

My instincts tell me that it would be unwise to confirm that I did, indeed, possess the wand at one time.

At least, not until I know more about her.

I keep my expression neutral, limiting myself to a gentle arch of my eyebrows. “Typhon?” I ask as if I don’t know who that is.

The woman is on her feet in a flash, and for the briefest moment, the scent of fire grows stronger around her. Her gaze flashes across me, quickly searching my eyes. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The bone.”

“What bone?” I ask.

Her brow furrows, a snarl on her lips that gives me a hint of her rage before she seems to rein it in.

She takes a deep breath, continuing to study me with piercing eyes while she says, “There are four.”

Her declaration startles me, and I can’t hide it.

Is she saying there are four bones?

One wand was difficult enough to destroy, let alone another three.

A smile flashes across her lips. “Oh, that shocked you. You didn’t know there were four bones, did you?”

Does this mean there are three more wands?

Oh, hell no.

She begins to pace around me, and for the first time since I landed here in the park, a shiver of apprehension runs the length of my spine.

This woman may have been overcome by grief only moments ago, but now she is sharply focused.

It feels like a very bad thing.

“I fear you’re out of your depth, Fury,” the woman says, stopping in front of me again. “Those bones can’t be controlled. Not by anyone. Whatever you’re doing with the one you possess, you’ll only come to regret it.”

My jaw clenches. It sounds like she’s warning me, but again, any reply I make will only give her information.

Desperately, I try to sense her intentions, but I come up blank. Where humans and other supernaturals are open books to me, this woman is closed off. The harder I try to sense her thoughts and memories, the more my mind fills with the memory of fire and ash.

My choices now are to either hurry away from this place or… to take a chance.

I choose my words carefully. “If I had this bone, what would you tell me to do with it?”

“Rid yourself of it!” She darts closer to me, her eyes wide and her voice earnest. “It will only bring you pain.”

I allow a cynical smile to form on my lips. “I suppose you would suggest I give it to you instead.”

“No! A creature like me must never possess any of Typhon’s bones.” Her hand closes around my arm. If it wasn’t for the suit covering my skin, I’m certain her fingernails would claw me.

I’m not alarmed. My snakes are ready.

“A creature like you?” I ask. “What sort of creature is that?”

I expect her to delight in the fact that I haven’t figured her out, but instead, the corners of her mouth turn down. “A wretched one,” she says, tears glistening in her eyes. “Those bones hurt my family long ago. If you have held one, then it means they’re out in the open again.”

Her shoulders slump, and her hand slips away from my arm. “They will tear others apart, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it… Not even me. I couldn’t even protect the ones I loved the most.”

She moves away from me and reaches for the nearly empty bottle on the ground, bringing it to her lips and draining the remaining liquid from it.

I take another chance, watching her reaction carefully. “There is hope. The bone I held was destroyed.”

Her forehead creases as she looks back at me. “Not possible.”

“I saw it happen.”

“Then your eyes deceived you.” Her expression is despondent, and her claim unnerves me.

I saw the bone burn in the fire of Striker’s heart. I know it was destroyed.

Before I can demand answers from the woman, her eyes glaze over, her focus becoming dull and fixated on the statue.

“Pretty rock…” she mumbles, stumbling toward it.

Damn . Whatever was in that bottle must not have been regular alcohol.

Many supernaturals aren’t easily affected by human liquor, so they seek out substances to enhance the effects.

I can’t smell anything in the air that would tell me the liquid dripping across the statue was laced with something, but some substances are colorless and odorless.

The woman sways from side to side before she gestures at me with the bottle. “You want to know…” she slurs, “how I knew… about the bone.”

“I do,” I say, continuing to watch her carefully, uncertain how much sense she’ll make now.

She points the bottle at me again. “Tiny fleck in your left iris. White fleck.” With her free hand, she drags at the eyelid beneath her left eye and repeats. “White fleck. Like the bone. Right here in the corner. Touch a bone. Forever marked…”

It doesn’t escape me that Striker did more than hold the bone. He burned it against his heart. But I’m not sure if that’s something I should be worried about or not.

The woman stumbles and then lands on her knees again beside the statue, reaching up to pat it. “It’s okay,” she mumbles to it. “We’ll be okay…”

I don’t think I’m going to get anything sensible from her now.

I’m deeply troubled by the possibility that she’s telling the truth about it all: that there are four bones and that there’s a fleck in my eye that I haven’t noticed.

Not that there are mirrors at the cabin—my sisters and I don’t care about appearances—but I would have thought my sisters would notice.

Unless they thought the fleck had always been there…

After all, I only met them after I held the bone.

I’m also troubled by who or what this woman could be, but I doubt she would tell me, even in her now-inebriated state.

I need to get back to my sisters and tell them about this encounter and seek their guidance as quickly as I can.

I’m about to rise off the ground when the woman’s head snaps up.

“When one bone finds its master, the other bones will gather,” she says, her eyes startlingly clear again. “You’re in danger of?—”

She stops and stares at the bottle she drank from, a dark fury flooding her expression. “Fuck, that wore off quickly. They promised me it would last all night!”

With another cry of rage, she smashes the empty bottle against the statue.

“In danger of what?” I ask, ignoring her anger, although I’m nearly certain she won’t give me an answer.

“Death,” she snarls. “There’s a dark entity here in New York. He is the darkness behind all other darkness. All dark magic creatures bow to him. He has long coveted Typhon’s bones.”

She rises to her feet. “The Valkyrie Queen was keeping the bones safe, and he would not move against her. Now that she is dead, the bones are fair game. He will hunt for them.”

“Who is he? This dark entity?”

Her eyes glitter as she takes a step forward once more.

“Oh, he won’t come for the bones himself.

He lives in the shadows, unseen even by many of his closest followers, his identity guarded.

” She shakes her head. “No, he will send his strongest warrior, a serpent shifter of unparalleled strength. It’s the serpent you need to watch out for.

He is cunning and will not hesitate to betray even those closest to him?—”

Her voice chokes, and the pain that I first sensed from her returns in horribly strong waves. No longer dulled.

“This serpent shifter,” I venture. “He hurt you.”

“He betrayed me.” Her eyes fill with tears even as her lips draw back from her teeth. “I want him dead! I want justice!” She thumps her chest. “I want vengeance for my daughter’s life.”

A daughter lost. This must be the pain that brought me to her.

I’m no longer uncertain. My purpose is clear. But now, my intentions are two-fold: stop the serpent shifter from acquiring any more bones and bring him to justice at the same time.

“Give me the serpent’s name,” I say.

“He calls himself James Vanguard.”

“Where can I find him?” Assuming she knows.

“He frequents a restaurant called the White Wing Tavern. It’s one of the few locations where he’s likely to surface. But only at night.”

I shiver at how similar the name of the tavern is to the name that was given to Typhon’s bone called the White Wand. It’s bound to be a coincidence, so I push past my disquiet. “And the name of the dark entity that commands this James Vanguard?”

This time, the woman hesitates. “To speak it aloud…” She glances around us before she whispers, as quietly as breathing, “Be careful of uttering his name, Fury, for it is guarded by all dark creatures. This dark entity is known only as the Ultima Nostra.”

The moment the entity’s title passes her lips, a sudden rush of energy floods my mind, and my sisters’ voices scream so loudly within my thoughts that I reel under their force.

Ultima Nostra! They cry in unison before their voices continue in rapid, panicked succession:

Fury, you are in danger.

Do not linger.

Fly home. Now!

I spin back to the woman, only to find her gone.

My eyes widen at how quickly and quietly she slipped away, even though I was only distracted for a second.

I’m left staring at broken bottles and listening to the soft drip of alcohol from the toadstool’s edge.

I’m about to answer my sisters’ call, concerned enough by their fear to risk rushing into the air without checking my surroundings, but then I sense something else…

A dark force calls to me from a spot right ahead of me.

But there’s nobody else near me, only the statue.

I step a little closer to it, focusing on one side of the toadstool.

A shadow mars my vision at that spot, a dark blur, but I have no explanation for it… Except that something could be hidden within the stone.

The woman was located between me and this spot at all times during our interaction—even when she was kneeling, she was in the way—so I can only assume that her presence was somehow masking this object, whatever it is.

“There’s something dark…” I whisper, but again, my sisters’ voices sound in my mind.

Do not touch it!

That object has been hidden there for eighteen years.

It must not be disturbed.

It will only corrupt your mind.

“Do you know what it is?” I ask, trying to force my questions to occur silently within my mind, but my voice kicks in against my will.

This darkness… It’s beyond powerful…

And it’s calling to me as strongly as the White Wand did.