Smoke and Ruin

by Tiffany Daune

  This is not the way, her mom's soft voice whispered at her back.

  She dropped the knife at once. Grabbing the dishtowel, she applied pressure to the wound. What did it matter? One little spot wouldn't make a difference; she would have to cut off her entire arm if she wanted to be free. Tears welled in her eyes and she swiped them away. Ashamed, she averted her gaze from her reflection in the bloodied knife. The kitchen shifted in her focus, and she blinked, grasping the counter for support. Her breath shallowed as an inexplicable force wound through her, tugging her toward Dax.

  She peered into the living room. Dax lay motionless, yet, his face beaded with sweat. At once, a wave of chills spread along her skin. Oh heck no. She ran several dish cloths under cold water, then filled a bowl with more water and ice. Rushing to Dax, she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead; his slick skin heated against hers. She set the cloth across his head. Then removing the blanket, she placed a second cloth along his muscled abdomen. "I hate you, but I won't let you die. Not yet, anyway." When the cloth warmed, she wrung it out and patted him with more cool water.

  Time never passed as slowly while she waited for his temperature to lower. She couldn’t believe this was happening. How would she find Asair and her sister if Dax was sick? What if she fell ill too? Who would take care of her then? She couldn’t let these thoughts consume her. No, she had to believe if she took care of Dax, nothing bad would happen to her. She headed to the hall closet where her mom kept some of Huron's old clothing. When she brought the box down from the shelf, his salty scent filled the air. This had been a smell she loved as child; now it turned her stomach. As she carried the box to the living room, she wondered where her creep of a father might be lurking. With Tarius still locked away, it was only a matter of time before Huron came for the stone—before he sought revenge. It sickened her knowing her father loved a demon more than his own daughters.

  Setting the box beside Dax, she dug through the clothes and found a long sleeve blue cotton shirt, which would match his eyes perfectly if they ever opened. After removing the damp cloths, she tested his forehead once more. Sparks danced up her wrist to her the crook of her elbow. She pulled back, hating the way the Guardian bond manipulated her magick. She finished dressing him quickly, being careful to limit skin to skin contact. Taking the pillows off the couch, she rolled Dax to his side and wedged them beneath him. He was nothing more than a breathing lump of flesh and bone. How the heck was she supposed to tend to Dax while searching for her sister and Asair? She couldn’t just leave him behind, nor could she travel with him. The Guardian bond screwed her royally.

  A gust of wind pushed against the windows. She jumped when the patio door flew open, with a whish of a breeze. Her magick flickered. Halen scanned the empty beach, searching the shadows and between the waves. Her gaze drifted to the stone angel. As she approached the open door, a gut feeling urged her to venture outside, while fear warned her not to leave. She stepped outside.

  Winter winds whistled in her ears as she made her way along the pebbled path to the angel. She gathered her robe around her, turning away from the gust. Standing before the onyx angel, a shiver ran down her spine, its glazed stare stirring memories of the Hunter Lina transformed to stone. She crouched by the angel's feet, where she had spent many days sketching beneath the shadow of stone wings, mourning for her father. When she tilted her head, she spotted a piece of plastic tucked beneath the angel's toes. The surrounding sand mounded on one side, revealed evidence of a recently dug hole. When she nudged the statue, it rocked in her grip. "Hmmm…" Pushing with both hands, the angel tipped, clipping its wing on the rocks as it fell. She yanked the corner of the plastic bag, freeing it from the sand. Her sparks tripped when she spread open the seal. Reaching inside, she pulled out a letter. A coffee ring stained the envelope, its contents weighted. Wind shoved against her, tossing sand in her eyes, as if nature were fighting her for the contents. She tucked the envelope to her chest and ran back inside, slamming the door behind her.

  Sitting on the stairs, she tore open the envelope. A key dropped to her feet, pinging on the concrete. She picked it up, clutching the cool metal in her fist as she unfolded the paper. Scrawled on the page, she found her mom's handwriting; big in some places and then miniscule as she crammed in the last few words, I love you always.

  Her hands shook as read the letter in its entirety.

  My dearest Daughter,

  If you're reading this, then everything went horribly wrong. You must be so scared. And I'm so sorry I can't be there to comfort you. I know it may seem impossible, but you must stay strong. I want you to know that I chose this life. The decisions I made were mine. Whatever the consequences, they lie with me alone. A life of secrets catches up to you. Listen to your heart. Don't follow blindly. Be brave.

  The key is for Sarah Winters at the bank. She has everything you need.

  I love you always,

  Mom

  Curiosity spun with fear as Halen opened her trembling hand, revealing the brass key. None of this made sense. Why go to so much trouble to hide this key—a secret like hers couldn't be shared with just anyone—who in the world was Sarah Winters?

  TUGGING THE BRIM of her ball cap down, Halen peered inside the bank window. With a bruised jaw combined with a rash of nicks and scrapes, she looked more like a fugitive than a customer. Still, she needed to find Sarah Winters and fast. Inhaling a deep breath of courage, she entered the bank. Fluorescent lights buzzed above; a baby screamed in a stroller; a man broke out in a fit of sneezing, sending her brain swimming. She pressed her palms over her ears. Her hearing adjusted since Elosia, but for some reason, her siren senses thrust into overdrive here. Fearing she might black out, she shoved the sounds aside, mentally compartmentalizing each one, so they didn't all rush together. Stay strong. Her mom's words blew away the chaos in her mind.

  She tucked her hands into her down parka, turning the key in her pocket, rolling it between her thumb and index finger as the sounds steadied. She stepped in line behind an elderly lady; her patchouli scented scarf stirred memories of Jae's home before the fires destroyed London.

  "Miss, I can help you here." A young man with hair the color of autumn leaves waved her forward. As she approached the counter, she turned when the security camera panned her way. The Tari used satellite imagery to track the fires; facial recognition wasn’t out of their grasp. Even with the aqueducts destroyed, Halen figured they had more than one base. She feared they had eyes on her now. With sweaty palms, she straightened the plaque with the name Peter engraved across the front.

  "How may I help you today?" His face beamed with a broad customer service smile. He wore a button down, oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled at the hem, and a neat bowtie affixed at his neck, which matched his green rimmed glasses. As pleasant as he seemed, this wasn’t who she needed.

  She glanced to the woman beside him, searching for Sarah Winters' name, but her plaque read Alicia. Either Sarah wasn't working today, or she held another position. Pulling the key out of her pocket, she set it on the counter and formed a protective cage over top with her fingers. "I was hoping to speak with Sarah Winters?"

  Peter's face flushed bright red. His gaze fell to the three dots on her hand; her birthmark was now dull silver beneath the artificial lighting.

  "Is she here?" Halen clasped the key.

  "How do you know Sarah?" His gaze remained fixed on her hand. At the mention of her name, Alicia peered over.

  Halen's sparks flickered. Scooping the key, she slipped both hands back in her pockets. This was a bad idea. She should have called first.

  A muscular man stuffed in a suit two sizes too small stepped behind Peter. "Is there a problem?"

  Peter let out a soft whimper as he swiped away a tear.

  What had she said? Halen turned to leave, when Alicia answered him, "She's here to see Sarah."

  Halen shot the snitch a pointed stare.

  The man placed his hand on Peter's shoulder excusing him. "I
'll handle this. Miss, do you mind joining me at my desk?"

  Heck yes, I mind. An uneasy feeling crept through her as more tears rimmed Peter's eyes.

  Alicia placed the closed sign at his wicket. "I've got this. Take your break."

  The man nodded to his left.

  Halen glanced toward the door. She should make a run for it, but her mom had gone through the trouble of hiding the key and the note... Why then did her sparks flicker as if she was entering a trap? Yet, when the man opened the gate, she stepped through.

  "I'm Gordon Monroe. I'm the bank manager." He took a seat behind his desk. "Sorry, about that. Peter was close to Miss Winters."

  "Was close?" Halen's voice cracked.

  He leaned back crossing his arms. "You're Corinne's daughter? Please have a seat."

  "How did you know?" As she sat, she glanced over her shoulder at the exit once more. Run, her thoughts urged.

  "Your picture was on my desk."

  "Excuse me?"

  "In the newspaper." His eyebrows rose. When she didn't respond, he continued. "Your mom was glowing when you won the swim tournament. She couldn't stop looking at the paper on my desk. I haven't seen her in here for a while, and that other man she's always with…what's his name—Daspar? What kind of name is that anyway—Daspar?" He sighed, shaking his head.

  She wriggled in her seat, prepared to bolt. If this guy knew her mom so well, why didn't she send her to meet him instead of this Sarah Winters? She met his beady black stare. Something was off. An office door closed, sending the scent of damp fur swirling into the air. She sniffed, her gaze sharp on Monroe. He did have an odd sort of way about him, but a shifter working as a bank a manger? Again, the distinct musty scent of fur drifted past her nose. When she met his gaze, his nostrils flared. She stood at once. "I'm sorry. I think there's been a mistake." She didn't even wait for him to speak as she pushed past the gate and rushed across the reception out the front door.

  Outside, she bent with her hands on her knees. Her pulse racing as she steadied the rising sparks. Damnit! Why did everything have to be so hard? Why couldn't just one thing fall in place? Why couldn't anything go her way? Just one freaking time. Was that so much to ask? Now how would she find Sarah Winters? She couldn’t just go back in, not after acting like such a spaz. Not if the bank manager was a shifter. Monroe could easily be on the Tari’s side. "Why here, mom?" She cast her gaze the heavens, shaking her head.

  As she turned to cross the street, the heavy scent of cinnamon drew her attention. She spotted Peter in the alley, leaning against the brick building, a vapor cloud curling into the cool air. She should leave him alone after how he reacted when she mentioned Sarah, but she really didn't see another choice. He at least knew Sarah. She stopped in front of him. "Hi, I'm sorry about all that in the bank. I didn't know…" She hoped he would fill in the blanks.

  "Yeah, no, it's my fault." He inhaled a long drag off his e-cigarette. "I can't get over that she's gone." The vapor hitched in his breath. He exhaled, coughing into his sleeve. "I didn't mean to freak out on you."

  "She's gone?"

  His gaze dropped to her hand once more. "Who are you?"

  She tucked her hand up in her sleeve. "Halen Windspeare. My mom banks here." She kept her conversation in present tense, omitting the part about her being dead. She didn't quite think Peter needed all the details. She asked me to meet with Sarah."

  His brow furrowed. "Then you haven't heard the news?"

  She shook her head. "We've been out of town. I just got back."

  He sucked the tip of his e-cigarette, inhaling deeply. "She's dead."

  "What?" Her sparks surged.

  He exhaled, enveloping them in a cloud of cinnamon and dread. "Some kids found her body on the beach. She drowned." Again, his attention drifted to her wrist.

  "I'm sorry." Halen bit back her lip, not sure how to continue. Yes, this was tragic news, but she needed to figure out what the key was for. If he had been friends with Sarah, maybe he knew more. She took the key out of her pocket, holding it out for him to see. "Do you know what this might be for?"

  He shrugged.

  "Are you sure?" She pushed her hand toward him, her bare wrist shimmering in the sunlight.

  He grabbed her arm, shoving up her sleeve. His eyes widened. "Sarah had a mark like this too. Only it wasn't silver. Are you in some kind of cult?" His grip tightened.

  Halen yanked hard, breaking free. She shoved her sleeve down. "No! I mean yes. We were both abducted in this messed up cult when we were kids." The lies rushed out all at once. "They tortured us and tattooed these marks on us." Her story wasn’t legitimate, but his story was even more unbelievable; if Sarah Winters had a siren birthmark, she sure as heck didn't drown.

  His eyes pooled with concern. "Oh man, I had no idea. Sarah never said anything. That makes sense why she always hid the marks. She wouldn't even let me see them when we were…" His voice trailed off as the tears welled once more.

  Halen touched his sleeve. "Sarah had something for me. I think the cult may be after me." The Tari weren't exactly a cult, neither were the shifters, but the Hunters on the other hand... They lived for one purpose, compelled by a curse to capture siren souls. They must have found Sarah and used her soul to build up strength for the fight in the forest. Her fists clenched. Natalie was a fool to trust them. "I really need to know what the key is for."

  "Show me again." He nodded toward her pocket.

  Halen pulled the key out and handed it to him.

  He turned it over examining the engraved numbers. "It's a key to the new storage lockers at the Shorewood RV Park. Sarah's dad spends his summers there. Did spend his summers there." He sniffed back the next wave of emerging tears.

  She had pushed too far, but she couldn’t stop now. "I know this is hard, but I really need your help. The key is for a locker?"

  "I can take you there if you’d like. I know where Sarah kept his things. It's all just a bunch of old fishing gear though. I really don't think she would keep anything valuable there."

  "I need to see for myself."

  "I'll show you the locker. I've got the access code to the building written down at home."

  She wasn't catching any bad vibes from Peter. He seemed genuinely hurt and now concerned for her as well. She shouldn't have fibbed, but what choice did she have? "That would be great."

  "I get off at five. Do you want me to pick you up?”

  "No, I can ride my bike. It's not too far from my house."

  "Be careful." Peter's gaze drifted to her wrist.

  She nodded, knowing full well she could obliterate anyone who came near her. The problem was she didn't have much elixir. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need magick before five. "See you then." She ran across the street, glancing back as Peter disappeared into the bank. Would Monroe stop him? Did she even need to worry about the bank manager? He hadn't actually threatened her. If he were a shifter, then he would have followed. No, it was just paranoia screwing with her mind. But as she hopped on her bike, she realized some of her cautious thoughts might be warranted. If the portal brought her to Rockaway, others may have followed. Her sparks pricked along every nerve. She peddled faster. The only person her mom trusted with their secret was dead. She only hoped whatever her mom gave Sarah was still there.

  HUNTERS IN ROCKAWAY? Halen’s sparks tripped along her veins. She rushed to check on Dax. As much as she hated him, a gold arrow would be a death sentence for both of them. If she didn’t have magick to fight, then all would be lost. Like a lion protecting its kill from the rest of the hungry pack, she dragged him through the kitchen into the laundry room. When she tucked a pillow under his head, he released a rushed breath.

  She jumped back. She poked his arm with the tip of her sneaker, but he didn't budge. "Dax?" She nudged harder. He lay still as stone. "Well, just in case you do wake up, I can't have you roaming around." She shut the laundry room door, then wedged a chair up against the handle. She had seen this trick in a movie but had no clue if
it really worked. So just to be sure, she slid over all three bar stools creating a barricade against the door. Her fortress might contain Dax, but it wouldn't protect him from the Hunters. If they knew her location, then it wouldn’t take them long to travel from the forest to Rockaway. Already a day had passed; they could arrive at any moment.

  "Why did you trust them, Nat?" She couldn't believe her sister banded with killers. "What kind of bull crap did they feed you?" They shot Natalie with an arrow. Sarah Winters died with her mother's secret. What if the Hunters returned before she reached the storage locker?

  She checked the oven clock; two hours until she met Peter. She could blow the storage locker door open with magick, but if the Hunters were there, then it would draw them out of the shadows. Too risky. She had no choice but to wait.

  She headed upstairs to her mom's room, where she opened the computer, hoping she had left more clues. Scanning the pictures, tears choked her when she stopped on one. Halen remembered this day well; her father was supposed to visit, but of course, he was a no show. But her mom, like always, made the best of the day. They folded newspaper pages into little boats to float down the canal until the night sky bloomed with stars. Her mom pointed out the big dipper and the little dipper while their paper armada floated out to sea. It was simple day—a day she would give anything to repeat.

  What if Asair and Natalie had died at the hands of the Hunters too? No. She couldn't think this way. Jae would have protected them. She was a powerful dragon. But how would they find her? How long would she have to wait?

  She grabbed the clock on the end of the desk, swivelling it to face her. "It doesn't hurt to be early." She headed downstairs. She could scope out the RV Park before Peter arrived. If Hunters were in the area, then she couldn't allow Peter to catch the crossfire. He had suffered enough.

  Halen slid on her parka and tucked the elixir in her pocket just in case. She should take the coral and bone beforehand, but she didn't want to waste a single drop if a threat didn't present itself. She double checked the stool barricade, leaned her ear to the door to listen for movement, and when all seemed well, she set the alarm and headed outside. Checking both ways, she searched for signs of Hunters. Finding no one, she hopped on her bike and peddled toward the RV Park.