On Midwinter Night, Agravaine will have no choice but to put all his cards on the table.
The formal falls on December 21st, the winter solstice, the shortest day and longest night, the night of peak power for the dark Fae. Until then, we’re just playing a waiting game.
Meanwhile, I launch myself into my training, pushing my Awakening body harder and faster each night. And each night, I try like hell to summon the white flame, but it dies as fast as it comes. I can’t sustain the heat. A part of me is afraid.
The part of me that clings to old Syl, safe Syl.
But December plods on, cold and Christmassy.
Until one night, just two days before the Winter Formal, I chase Euphoria to the viaduct at the edge of Shockoe Bottom and toward the outskirts of town. There are still a few trolley sites we have to check out.
Tonight, she heads straight for the train. I can hear it now, the nine p.m. from Harrisburg, blaring out in the darkness…
Flashes of that night assault me—the train, the storm of violet lightning, the sounds of tearing metal, the crash… In a breath, I’m shaking in my Docs. I jerk to a stop at the edge of a condo building. I’m old Syl all over again.
She looks back as though she knows I’m freaking out. The train horn blares out again, but Euphoria only gives me that tough-love nod, urging me onward.
Ugh. She’s always saying how Awakening is painful. Painful, terrifying, wonderful.
This is definitely in the painful and terrifying camp.
“What’s wrong?” she calls from two rooftops down. “Scared you can’t catch me, princess?”
I swear, I’m going to kill her.
I could quit right here. Walk away. Chase her another night.
It’s my choice, and she lets me make it.
My guts are churning as I stand at the edge of the building, watching as she takes off, leaping with ease to the next rooftop.
Beyond…the viaduct, the train tracks. And the train is coming.
The horn is blaring, my skin is crawling. I feel like I’m going to hurl.
She leaps to the lower overpass, looking back over her shoulder. Her face is grim, set in that tough-love expression I’ve come to know so well, but her eyes are soft.
She believes in me.
I believe in her, if not myself.
I leap off the building and onto the overpass. Dodging cars on the interstate is the easiest thing. Just Glamoury myself so they don’t see. Those few people who are partway Awake might see a flash of shadow like a ghost, but they won’t see Syl Skye.
And then I’m on the edge, the viaduct below me, the train racing toward us like a huge mechanical dragon belching smoke. Euphoria doesn’t wait. She jumps to the train, making it look easy as she lands on top of the engine car. It flashes by me, every car rattling on the tracks as it thunders past.
Its horn is blaring, deafening, the stink of diesel choking me, threatening to catapult me back to that night. Lightning on the tracks, the tracks heaving… My mouth is dry and my hands are clammy. The images have their way with me, and I—
Forget that. I stop the images. Full stop. I’m in control here. Not my memories. I’m not that girl anymore.
I leap.
For a moment, I’m in free fall, and then I slam into the side of the train, scrabbling for a rail, an oh-crap handle—anything. My hand catches a side rail, and my legs swing back and forth, the tracks rushing past me at breakneck speed.
Euphoria leans over the side, her eyes glowing. “Climb up. You can make it.”
She could offer me a hand. I see she wants to do it, but it has to be me. I can’t rely on her all the time, and I know it. We have to be equals.
I want to be her equal.
Equally strong, equally capable, equally everything.
My arms are screaming, but I’m stubborn. Inch by inch, I pull myself up and roll over on the top of the train, gasping.
She dashes off, and I’m up and off like a shot after her.
This time, I’ll catch her.
Our feet pound the train cars as we leap over and among them, the massive metal beast rolling and lurching. Below us, a trolley site comes into view. We should check it out. Euphoria motions to me, a satisfied smirk on her face. We’ve agreed that, during our chases, the trolleys sites are “ghouls”—the dark Fae word for “home base.” If she reaches it before me, the chase is over. She’ll have won.
I pour on a burst of speed. Nearly there, nearly there…and as the train turns the corner, I throw myself into a flying tackle.
My body connects with hers. Yes! And we tumble down, down, down. She rolls midair, cushioning me with her body as we land crushingly hard in the middle of the construction site—an impact that would have broken mortal bones.
We roll to a stop, me on top of her, our legs tangled.
“Caught you,” I say triumphantly.
“You did.” Her eyes darken into deep sapphire blue.
“Take it off,” I say and then blush. Who are you and what have you done with shy Syl Skye?
“Take what off?” Her voice is husky, sultry, and my heart races against my ribs.
“Your Glamoury. All of it. I want to see you when you…” When you kiss me, I want to say, but I can’t. My pounding heart makes the words jam in my throat.
Euphoria nods, but I can tell she’s uneasy, maybe a little afraid.
Does she think I’ll reject her?
Slowly, the Glamoury shimmers, and the real Rouen Rivoche lies before me— Well, beneath me. All bronze skin and smirky-smile and blue eyes ringed in glowing gold. She smiles around her fangs. I reach out and touch the tip of her pointed ear. She shudders.
Her body is warm against mine.
“Shall I kiss you now?” she whispers, and her voice cracks a bit. She’s trembling. And I’m trembling with her.
“Yes,” I breathe the word across her lips.
My stomach is in knots. I can imagine the softness of her lips, the taste of her. I am shaking to my core. After this, everything will change between us.
Our own personal Awakening. I can’t wait to see what we will become.
New Syl, new Rouen.
She leans down, her lips almost brushing mine—
And that’s when I hear the growling of the hell-hounds.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rouen
We’re in deep
You and me
Never gonna be free
Till the sky falls down
Around us
- Euphoria, “Deep”
Syl is warm and soft, lying on top of me. Her eyes, that impossible shade of storm-grey look into mine. Suddenly, I am shaking. Me, Rouen Rivoche, dark Fae princess. Shaking in the hands of a mortal girl.
But Syl is not mortal.
She is the last sleeper-princess of the fair Fae. I am her guardian.
Drawn to each other, we both lean in. Her breath is warm and sweet, her bottom lip trembling. I want to bite it and kiss the sting away.
My heart is pounding. Our lips barely brush—
And then, guttural growls rumble through the construction site.
Seriously? I mean, can I have, like, a moment here?
The growling gets louder, fiercer, rattling the piles of trolley tracks. Fear spikes down my spine—not for me, but for Syl.
I know with sudden certainty. The Wild Hunt is back. And they’re here for her.
And now I can hear their great padded feet bringing them closer, from out of the darkness.
Her body tenses on top of mine. Our gazes meet, and I flick mine to the right and then to the left. She gets my unspoken command. Slowly, we look in opposite directions. Her heart is hammering against mine. All my desire for her turns into fight response, my adrenaline kicking in full force as I see them.
Hulking and wolflike, their hackles raised in spiky tufts of black. Their furnacing green eyes glow, their jaws slavering. Cú sluagh. Agravaine’s hell-hounds. “Five on my side,” I whisper.
&n
bsp; Predators, they are wary, confused by the way we lie still. They stalk in for the kill with mincing steps, their Moribund-infected paws scraping the ground.
“Four over here,” Syl whispers. She meets my gaze once more.
“Wait for my signal.”
She nods. She’s a bundle of nervous energy against me. I shift, trying to ignore the rising warmth between us. Focus, Rouen. But I can’t help my body’s response. I’m excited by the prospect of a fight, by her closeness, by her.
The hell-hounds creep closer, crouching low, their bellies touching the ground, tongues lolling and dripping with venom-green saliva. Their growls echo across the construction site. They creep closer, closer…
My heart rate kicks up a notch. Come on in.
They grow bolder. Come on…
The lead hound inches closer. I feel the blast of hot breath on my face.
Sucker.
In the bat of an eyelash, I’m up like a shot, shoving Syl behind me. Snarls erupt all around us. The lead hell-hound pounces first.
He doesn’t count on my speed. Silly puppy.
His jaws snatch empty air.
A second later, all the others dogpile in on him, snarling and growling just like in the cartoons. Until they realize…we’re not there.
I back me and Syl up toward one of those huge yellow bulldozers. The hounds won’t fall for that again.
If only I had my violin. I could take out all nine hell-hounds. I flex my Moribund hand, and realization hits me. If I use my power—any power at all—Agravaine will know. The Moribund will alert him. Is that why he sent the cú sluagh? To flush us out?
My skin goes clammy-cold.
If I use my lightning gramarye… If Syl uses her white flame…
He’ll know.
She’s behind me, ready for a fight.
“Strength and speed only,” I toss back over my shoulder. “No powers. None of that white flame stuff.”
Her face falls. “Why not?”
Of course she wants to try using her powers again. That’s my girl. But still…
“Agravaine.” I want to give her more of an explanation, but the hell-hounds are not the most patient of monsters.
The lead cú sluagh leaps, all fangs and frothing green saliva. I meet it full-force, slamming it back to the earth. The ground shakes, and it lurches back up, swaying. It comes in again.
I dodge its snapping teeth and grab a handful of its wiry scruff.
With a grunt, I toss it into the rails, sending them rolling away with sharp pinks and plops and pangs.
It rights itself, eyes furnacing a hideous green. It lifts its head, and the howl that bays from its throat sends shivers down my spine. The other hell-hounds surround us, all low growls and snapping teeth.
This is so not good.
Another howl, and they attack.
One snaps for my face and I dodge, grinning madly. That’s it. Come on!
A second hell-hound lashes out for my legs, and I kick it in the face, staying in front of Syl. She’s looking for an opening, nervous but ready to test out her Awakening body.
A third attacks, and I sidestep, but the fourth and fifth crash into me, using their combined weight to being me down. My head smacks the ground. I see stars for a second.
Not my finest moment.
Teeth flash before my face, and I grab the beast’s muzzle, squeezing hard. Green saliva drips on my collar, searing it, the sizzling of leather sending my adrenaline into overdrive. I kick the hell-hound off over my head and then grapple with the other on my chest.
Its weight feels like a Mack truck crushing me, its ozone-tainted breath blasting in my face.
And then Syl is there, hauling it off, red hair flying. She’s strong and capable. She tosses the dog into the side of the bulldozer, upending the massive construction vehicle. The cú sluagh scrabbles to get clear, but the bulldozer pitches and tilts and finally crashes down on it, crushing it.
Black circuitry scatters from beneath the fallen truck.
“That’s one for me,” Syl calls, a challenge in her voice. I’m seriously impressed, but I can’t let her know that.
“One?” I tease. “That’s a start not a score, princess.” I lunge, striking the nearest cú sluagh square in the throat. It explodes into black circuitry. I step away as the Moribund jerks and jiggers on the ground.
“Now we’re even,” I tell her.
She sticks out her tongue at me and then dodges a hell-hound’s bite.
We’re in the thick of it now.
And you need to step up your game, Rouen, before that sleeper-princess shows you up. At least making a game of it keeps me from freaking out worrying about her.
The nearest cú sluagh snaps at me and tears my sleeve.
“You…ruined my jacket.” I grab it around the neck, avoiding the snapping jaws. Heaving hard, I slam it into the huge bulldozer wheels, and it shatters into a million fragments. Black circuits flip and flick on the ground.
It’s creepy, the entire site crawling with Moribund. But no worries. Without a host, they’ll die soon enough.
I glance back over my shoulder. “Syl!”
We’ve gotten separated. They’re backing her up to the tracks, her face white but set in determined lines. She’s not used to this. I’ve been training her to be fast and quick, to be accurate but not to fight.
My bad. Seriously my bad. I’m kicking myself as I scramble to my feet and race toward her. “Syl!”
One of the hell-hounds lunges for her, its teeth spearing in for her throat. She ducks and punches it, screaming. Her fist goes right through it, and the beast crumbles into flying circuits around her.
Bloody bones. On second thought, I’m glad she’s on my side.
Another one leaps at her, and she slams it to the ground so hard the very earth shakes. Her hand crushes it, and the black circuits race up her arm. She slaps them away, and then she’s fighting hard, spinning this way around one hell-hound, whirling that way. Punching, kicking. She steps on one hound and flips forward, kicking another in the teeth.
Dark glittering circuits go flying.
And then there’s one behind her.
She doesn’t see it.
“Syl!” I throw my body out and flying tackle the hell-hound. We go down. I pound at the thing until circuits fly.
“What is that—like six to three?” Syl says, smirking through labored breaths. “You’re kind of sucking, E.”
I get up, brushing myself off. “Go ahead, princess, get cocky.”
As soon as I say it, I wish I hadn’t.
The black circuits on the ground begin to twitter and flick back and forth, agitated. One by one, they race together, piling up, teeming over one another like bugs, leaping, jiggering.
The pile grows and grows, tilting and revolving, becoming…something. Something massive, even more dark and sinister.
Licks of green lightning burn from the circuits as they come together, fusing into the biggest, baddest hell-hound I have ever seen. The circuits form a carapace, armoring the massive beast from head to paws, and a tangle of tentacles bursts from its shoulders, lashing out.
As Syl would say, Crappity crap crap crap.
Warily, I step back, pushing Syl behind me. She places a small hand on my back, and I feel her warmth through my leathers.
“What is it?”
“A barghest,” I whisper. Agravaine’s really stepping up his game, I think sourly. The jerk. Commanding the cú sluagh to Megazord into a bigger, badder beast is next-level mastery of the Hunt.
The barghest rises up, howling, huge and black and teeming with circuits that crackle with green lighting. It opens its jaws, the green glow brightening.
So not good.
“Syl…look out!”
It snaps its massive jaws and green lightning lashes from its teeth. We dive, Syl going to one side, me the other. The lightning strikes a backhoe, tearing a shrieking scar right down the center. The vehicle collapses, split in two, smoking.
My girl’s scared but brave and determined.
We got this. I think…
The barghest wheels about. I expect it to be clumsy, unwieldy, but no such luck. Thing’s damn fast. It snaps at me, and I barely duck its gnashing teeth. Its tentacles lash out, and I dodge, feeling the wind as they blow past me, smashing the construction site to smithereens.
The circuits light up, all electric green, and the stench of ozone hits the air. Not again.
“Look out!”
I try to get to Syl, but a swipe of the beast’s paw sends me crashing back into the rails. I shove them away, gritting my teeth.
All right, buddy-boy. Now I’m mad.
“Hold him for me,” I growl. “No one makes me look bad.”
Then again…
As I rush the thing, its tentacles lash out again. I dodge one, two, three…
The fourth, fifth, and sixth hit me like mule-kicks, wrapping me up tighter than a Christmas present. They squeeze and lift me. Baring my fangs, I grab hold of them, snapping them away, but more and more come, wrapping tight around my midsection, lashing my arms, my legs, my vision cut with inky blackness.
Below, I see Syl rushing in, determined to help me.
No, Syl…don’t.
She raises her left hand.
The barghest laughs deep in its throat as it turns toward her. She’s so small beneath it.
“Syl!” I fight like the nastiest woman scorned and wedge my torso and arms from its grip. I grab its head, wrenching the beast off balance. Its tentacles miss Syl as she dives…closer. Why is she getting closer?
Gah! Girl is going to be the death of me.
The barghest smashes its free tentacles down on her, but she’s no longer there, her Awakening strength and speed keeping her alive.
And then, lucky me, the barghest remembers it has me in its grip. It lifts me high, crushing me. My world becomes pain and black tentacles, green eyes glowing, snarls like burbling laughter. Grey spots dance in front of my eyes.
Somewhere dimly, Syl is screaming my name.
I can’t speak, so I can’t sing, can’t use my gramarye. No choice, I think grimly. I lift my right hand, calling on my Moribund. Circuit Fae gramarye lights up the night. Violet electricity pours off my fist, and the Moribund splices deeper into my hand. But the barghest only wraps me tighter, trying to smother my violet lightning with its green. The ozone stench stings my nostrils, tentacle after tentacle wrapping me tighter, tighter, crushing me…
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