Professional? Nope. But I can’t seem to make myself care.
We approach Shreveport without much more drama — aside from a fox sighting I’m shamelessly excited about. Twenty minutes outside of the city, Brynn calls Aline, setting up a location for us to meet.
Without overthinking it too much, I slide fingers through Max’s and give him a squeeze. He threads his fingers through mine. A thin layer of sweat coats his palm. Jogging his knee, he focuses on the road ahead, wiping his other hand on his jeans.
Black dots scatter across the material, and it strikes me for the first time that he hasn’t been able to change clothes in days. Showered or not, he has to be miserable in an outfit marinated in sweat, blood, and general travel funk. We should have grabbed him some things when we visited The Mercury Room.
Guilt tangles in my stomach, furious at myself for not noticing sooner. When this is all over, I’ll have to do something about it, make sure he doesn’t have to spend another second in this dirty get up.
“When was the last time you talked to her?” I ask under my breath.
His Adam’s apple bobs. “The night I left.”
“Four years. That’s a long time. Do you know if she ever tried to find you?”
“Not as far as I could tell. Though I got rid of my cell and didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address so ...” Max shrugs.
“My parents never came after me either,” I say.
Tightening his grip, Max lifts my hand to kiss my knuckles, managing a weak smile. “They couldn’t handle our brand of awesome.”
I laugh and bump him with my shoulder. “Not many can.”
As we approach the meeting site — a dog park with a massive fountain in the middle — we all fall silent. I catch myself holding my breath. Too much rides on this, and I still don’t feel like I have a clear strategy put together.
Aline has been at this for Fates know how long. Countless other hunters have tried to find her and failed, forcing Iris Smith to shift her bounty to Max, just to try and get some kind of closure. What makes me think I’m going to be any different? Especially when I’ve failed to figure out my own curse a thousand times over?
Digging my nails into my palm, I lift my chin and mentally lock away these fears. We’re going to succeed, because success is the only option. Failing leads to way too many consequences. Consequences I’m not willing to suffer. If absolutely all else fails, I’ll use my bounty cuff on her, take her in by force.
None of the other hunters had that before, this item of my own creation that will function even in a neutralizing spell. That’s why we’re going to succeed.
Brynn pulls into a parking space, then turns in her seat to look at me and Max. “She says she’ll only meet the two of you. Go to the north end of the fountain. She’ll find you.”
With one last quick glance at each other, Max and I climb out of the van, and start across the field. Dull clouds flatten the sky overhead. Oppressively heavy, it bears down on us with the same kind of intensity as a Louisiana summer sun. A harsh, cool wind cuts through our clothes, screaming in our ears, and thunder grumbles close by.
I glare around the perimeter. Very few dogs and their owners trot through the park, and most head toward their cars. Paranoia pulls at my gut. After headphones girl, I don’t trust the looks of anyone within our near vicinity.
“Do you see her?” I ask Max.
“No,” Max says, running a hand along his jaw as we approach the benches near the fountain.
It bubbles at the center of a wide lake. The wind scatters droplets of water from its spray across the rippling surface. A small group of ducks paddle quickly toward a cluster of bushes on the other side. Even these creatures put me on edge, my mind conjuring up images of them shifting into human form to attack.
I rub my bare arms as the wind kicks strands of hair across my face. “Do you think she lied to Brynn?”
“I don’t know.” Max shoves his hands into his pockets. “She is really good at that.”
A nearby voice — oddly musical in its tone and tempo — makes Max and me flinch. “What a way to speak of your mother.”
Out of pure instinct, I grip Max’s wrist as I look toward the source of the statement. The water a few feet off the bank lifts slowly. It arcs over us to form a shimmering orb, cutting off the wind and all other sound. I cringe as it then dissipates, leaving behind the same enclosed feeling, almost like we’re in a bubble.
Again, the water in front of us transforms, coalescing into the iridescent form of a woman. Thick, long hair floats around her, smooth like sea grass, and her smile reveals pearl-like teeth. Max inches closer to me, pressing his hand into mine. His mouth twists into a disgusted sneer as my own emotions catch up, now sprinting past the shock of this truly odd situation.
I look back at the woman made of water, fury and disappointment burning through my veins. “Aline Avila?”
The woman winks. “You requested a meeting. This is the best I can do under the circumstances.”
Max swears. “The best you can do? We haven’t seen each other in four years and you show up as a water projection?”
I dig into my memory, trying to come up with everything I know about water spirits taking this form, trying to remember if there’s any way to trap her. Unfortunately, unless I can get out of the neutralizing spell, none of my magic will work. Then again, I am pretty fast ...
Aline pouts. “I did send a gargoyle out to protect you.”
“To put me right back where I was before.” Max throws his free hand into the air. “Hiding and running might be fine for you, but it’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know it isn’t fair. That harpy shouldn’t be going after you at all. She wants justice, yet she does violence to it herself.”
Max spits out what sounds like a string of curses in Portuguese.
“Watch your language,” Aline says. “I didn’t raise you to speak in such a way.”
“You barely raised me at all.” Max scoffs.
“Hang on.” Tightening my grip on Max’s arm, I fight to keep my voice even in spite of my growing irritation. “You’re the one linked to the disappearance of Iris’ brother. If you clear a few things up it might solve this whole mess and save your son’s life. We know you didn’t kill him, so talking to Iris about what happened shouldn’t be a problem.”
Aline glides a little closer, her expression still smooth, almost serene. “Are you not a bounty hunter, young phoenix? You should know better than anyone how complicated truth is. Would you have me suffer for a decision he made himself?”
A new layer of musicality laces through her words. Warmth rolls out from the center of my chest and across my skin as the beauty of her features intensifies. All my frustration and anger fade, slipping below the surface as a deep desire to agree with everything she says swells above it.
“It is complicated,” I say in a breathy whisper.
Max pinches my arm so hard I yelp.
“Why...” That pleasant feeling from his mom’s magic evaporates and I scowl. She must have a unique neutralizing spell, one that only allows her magic through. “No. This isn’t a complicated question. Joel Smith committed suicide after you broke up with him. If you had nothing to do with that, then you should want to help his sister try to find closure.”
Aline glares at Max. “There are many unforgivable things in this world, filho, but going against your own mother...” She shakes her head. “I offered you a way out of all this. Go with Brynn back to your people or turn yourself in to Iris Smith. You’re grown now, so that is your choice, but do not expect me to do something against my own self-interest.”
In an instant, her form loses its shape, splashing back into the water before I can react, taking both her neutralizing spell, and our last hope, along with her.
18.
WITH A GROWL OF FRUSTRATION, Max tries to dive into the water after her. I claw at his arm, barely restraining him, my shoes sliding on the damp grass. As much a
s I want to do the same thing, there’s no way we’ll be able to follow her. At least not that way.
Max thrashes against me, but only for a moment before sinking into a crouch, elbows on his knees. “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he says, hardly loud enough to even be called a mumble.
I shove my nails through my hair, digging them into my scalp, using this small amount of pain to try and ground myself. “I’m sorry, Max.”
Rage fogs my brain. Aline Avila works out of the same handbook my dad does; her solution is the only solution, take it or leave it. And unfortunately, she’s way too powerful, way too smart, to take down with my normal methods. The question is, what tactics will actually work?
“It’s not your fault, mama,” Max says, lacing his fingers at the back of his neck. “Like everything else, it was always going to be a long shot.”
I pace the grass behind him. “There has to be another way to track her. Another way to find her. She’s powerful, but not perfect. Right?”
Sliding his hands one over the other, Max makes a noncommittal grunt. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not worth it. Iris Smith deserves some kind of closure, if I turn myself in, I might be able to give it to her. Telling her what happened might be enough.”
“Nope. No. We’re not taking that risk. She put a bounty out on you, so I seriously doubt she’s in a place to listen to reason. Besides, she probably already knows her brother committed suicide. Now she’s out for blood.” I grab Max’s arm again and yank him to his feet. “Come on. Brynn and Hank might have some ideas. They’re gargoyles. This is kind of their entire life purpose.”
“Sure.” Max drags a hand down his face.
Planting myself in front of him, I grip his shoulders. “Hey, look at me.”
He lifts his eyes, gaze dull, that ever-present mask completely gone.
“I know you want to give up,” I say. “But I’m not. I won’t let you take the fall for your mom, and I won’t let you spend the rest of your life running. Unless, of course, you want to run away with me to the Fae realm.”
One corner of Max’s mouth curls up. “I don’t know, I hear it’s a little weird on the other side.”
I pat his cheek. “Don’t make fun of my homeland. Yours is just as strange. Now come on, I’m going to figure this out if it kills me. Then if it does, I’ll just come right on back, then keep working on it.”
Hooking a pointer finger into the collar of his shirt, I pull him a few feet until he gets with the program and falls into step with me. We march back toward the van, my shoulders heavy with the weight of these promises I’ve made, jaw set with the resolve to keep them. Before we make it halfway across the field, however, I pause. A funny shimmer wrinkles the air around Brynn’s car. A shimmer similar to the one Aline Avila just cast over us.
The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Something’s wrong. How are you feeling about water travel?”
Before he can answer, the screech of tires on concrete wails from the parking lot. A group of cars speed toward us off the main road. Most plow straight onto the grass, but others form a wall in front of Brynn’s vehicle. At the sight of a Black Dodge Viper kicking up patches of dirt, my stomach craters to ash.
Yaritza.
Panic explodes through me as she slams to a stop. I back pedal, but not fast enough. As my wings spring out from between my shoulder blades, my mentor bamfs right in front of Max and me. Cold metal slams into one of my temples. Black dots bubble in front of my eyes, inhibiting my ability to see the oncoming attacks, much less block them. As I lose my balance and drop, a boot collides with my stomach, sending me stumbling sideways.
Breath gone, I crash into the soggy grass, rocks crunching against my spine and the back of my head. My wings crumple under my weight. Over the ringing of my ears, I hear the splatter of water, reorienting just in time to watch Max jumping on Yaritza. In one, quick movement, she aims the iron crowbar at him. It slams into his ribs and Max shouts out in pain.
Again, anger ignites a fire in my chest.
I attempt to shift fully into phoenix form, but Yaritza turns back to me. In a blur, something sharp pierces my shoulder. One of her knives pins me to the ground. Crying out, I squint through the agony to find Yaritza standing over me. With one hand, she wields a crowbar, while with the other she presses her second knife to Max’s throat.
Black blood dribbles down from the spot where the blade meets his skin. His legs buckle, barely keeping him upright as he sluggishly tries to pull at Yaritza’s arm, and his eyes flutter, unfocused. Iron works fast on his kind, poisoning them at a rapid pace and rendering them almost completely defenseless within mere seconds.
“Break the connection spell, or I’ll kill him.” Spittle sprays past Yaritza’s lips. “I’d rather take him in one piece to Iris Smith, but if I have to claim he died in the process of retrieving him from a traitor, so be it.”
“Yaritza—”
With a glare, she slams the crowbar into one of my knees. Once. Twice. Three times. Bones shatter. Blood scatters through the air. I scream again, covering my head as the blows move up my body, and beg the Fates to send Hank and Brynn. They’re gargoyles. They’re close by. They have to be able to get past that neutralizing spell.
The curve of the crowbar presses into my throat. I gag, unable to move. “I’m not asking,” Yaritza says, ending the sentence with a snarl. “Transfer the connection spell or I will break every bone in your worthless body and then torture this boy in front of you.”
Tears streaming down my face, I try to meet Max’s gaze, but his head drifts heavily sideways, most of his weight now supported by Yaritza. If she hadn’t already injured him, I could just break the spell. He could leave, be free. But now it’s too late.
“Please,” I say, the taste of metal spreading across my tongue. “He’s innocent.”
“No one is innocent.” Yaritza drags her blade another half-inch across his throat and a new stream of blood rolls down his neck to soak his shirt.
“Stop, stop!” A sob wracks my chest. “I’ll do it. I’ll break the spell.”
Upper lip curving into a sneer, Yaritza pinches my wrist with her fingers, refusing to drop her crowbar. Resisting a groan, I mutter the spell quickly, transferring the spell once again. Blood rolls from a corner of my mouth as our tattoos warm with magic and my connection to Max snaps.
Instantly, Yaritza straightens. “Once I’ve taken care of this mess, I’ll be back to deal with you. If you’re wise, you’ll run while you still have the chance.”
In an instant, she vanishes from sight, taking Max with her, and leaving me broken and bleeding in the grass.
TERROR AND PANIC ROOT me in agonizing consciousness. My aching body begs me to fade out, but I refuse to let it. I have to move. Now. Dig my gun out of my backpack and reset. Not every bone is broken. Something has to work. Unfortunately, only my eyes move, and just barely. Yaritza got in a pretty good hit on the side of my head. I can barely keep one of my lids open as the skin swells. All around me, spells and gunfire crackle the air, slamming into the ground and kicking up dirt.
Multiple sets of boots pound the ground nearby. The hope rising in my chest takes a dive when a trio of strangers surrounds me. A small woman with short dark hair and gauges in her earlobes bends over me, mouth twisted in a sneer.
That’s a good sign.
“Where did she take him?” She asks, a very animal snarl garbling her words.
She must be some kind of animal shifter.
My laughter morphs instantly into a bloody cough and I wrap my unbroken arm around my middle. “What about our interaction makes you think Yaritza and I are on the same team anymore?” I ask, when the fit dies down.
The shifter drops into a crouch and grabs my jaw. “But you know who the buyer is.”
Pulse picking up with frustration, I spit blood, narrowly missing her arm. “If I did, why would I tell you? As far as I know, you’re just another rival hunter trying to get the bounty.”
I
don’t have time for this. Every second sliding by is another second Yaritza has to get Max to Iris. At her level of power, she’ll be able to water travel him much faster and with less consequences. If I’m going to save Max, I’ll have to find a way to die and reset fast.
Another blast of magic shakes the ground. One of the other women lifts a hand and the air quivers, blocking a shower of rocks and branches. Battle cries fade a little as her shield envelopes our small group.
The woman bent over me growls again. “Calling us bounty hunters is an insult.”
Man, we have a trash reputation.
I let my lower lip protrude in a pout, seeing another way out of this. “Well now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings.”
Claws grow from the tips of the shifter’s fingers, slicing into my skin. “Tell me who put the bounty out, or I will tear your jaw from your head.”
“That’s going to make it really hard for me to tell you much of anything.”
Pupils narrowing to slits, the woman lashes out with a hand, dragging deep slashes down my side. A scream I can’t control rubs my throat raw. My brain fights back in spite of the pain. If I can get her riled enough, get her reckless with rage, she might kill me. Then I can die and heal and fight back.
I force laughter again. “I didn’t realize you knew my kinks. Blood is hot.”
“Do not mock me.” Her teeth shapen into fangs, and she lifts her half-shifted hand again.
“Stop!” Hank’s voice cuts through the blare of pain in my ears.
The women around me turn, springing back when he and Brynn fly into their midst. Wings sprout from Hank’s shoulders, clearly identifying himself as a gargoyle. He folds them up when he lands, the shield spell fading to allow him inside. Crouching in front of me, he uses the tip of one of his wings to shove the woman with the claws away from me.
Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame Page 16