Page 72 of The Crow Games

I dropped to my knees by the water’s edge. Burying my arms up to the elbows, I washed Emma’s blood away. Crimson rivulets swirled in the water, sure to summon a hungry water devil to me soon.

Every inch of me ached, and no muscle was more sore than my battered heart. I sprawled on my back, ignoring the rocks that dug into my spine.

I just needed a moment. Needed to breathe and stare at the clouds overhead and think of nothing that could hurt me. I lacked the energy to summon my mental mortar and pestle.

Swooshing in the water drew my eyes to the lake, and I let out a curse. A small whirlpool sent bubbles cascading toward the surface. I pulled myself upright, readying to face another devil.

If a garm tried to eat me, I was ready to eat it first. What did it matter? I was already a villain. I might as well act like one.

But the creature that burst forth from the dark water was no simple devil.

A great water serpent leapt into the air, rising up on its long neck. Its face resembled that of a dragon with blue armored scales, and a crown of horns jutted from its wide head. Its body kept coming, kept rising up and up out of the water until I thought it might touch the sky and keep going. Then it stopped and lowered its reptilian chin. A forked tongue licked at the air. Big yellow eyes sharpened on me.

“Damn it all,” I whispered, arms and legs frozen in fright.

A low hiss was my final warning that it was about to strike. Its mouth dropped open, revealing fangs bigger than spears. It hurtled toward me, and I knew in my bones these moments would be my last. I covered my face with my arms, waiting for the inevitable strike I didn’t have the energy or the might to defend against.

I couldn’t save anyone. Not even myself.

And then . . . nothing. Somehow, I wasn’t dead yet. Slowly, I dropped my arms.

Darkness had fallen over me like a cold, inky blanket, blotting out the sky above and the forest all around, and for a split second I thought I had died and a reaper had come to collect me. But the water serpent was still there. It had retreated, neck coiled, ready to attempt a second strike. Shadows billowed above me, then the reaper flew forward, wraith-like wings spread to resemble a massive crow.

The reaper struck the serpent in the head, and both crashed down into the water together, sending up a wall of cold spray. The wave soaked me through, and I gasped. I sat forward, heart leaping in my chest. But all I could see on the surface was rippling waves and bubbling foam.

The serpent’s head reappeared. It let out a shriek and attempted to dive away, but a force below dragged its struggling mass back under the water.

“Asher!” I shouted. Waves lapped at my legs.

Blood rose to coat the bubbling foam in crimson.

The serpent floated to the surface, dead on its back, its forked tongue hanging from its mouth. My heart thudded against the cage of my ribs, and my breath caught, waiting for more bubbles to surface, for shadows to rise, for some sign of life . . .

Then Asher appeared. He walked out of the lake, cloaked in night and dripping. He sat down hard beside me and collapsed onto his back, arms spread and chest heaving.

I leaned on my elbow beside him, still gathering my own breath. I didn’t have the wind for words, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have known what to say. I touched his hand instead, my thumb skimming along his, freckled and sandy beside his smooth and fair flesh, his hand icy cold from the black water. He smelled like silt and wet leather.

I hoped he felt my gratitude in every subtle touch.

My hand rested there beside his. “Is it dead?” I asked finally, shattering the silence.

“It’s definitely dead,” he rasped.

“You don’t kill.” It wasn’t an admonishment. I was glad I hadn’t been made into the serpent’s meal, just surprised. He’d always been so adamant on that point.

“I don’t kill,” he said, and his eyes met mine, black and bottomless and a little lost. “I felt the sisters die, and I was afraid. I don’t like the way fear tastes, Maven. It’s a horrid emotion and one I’m completely unfamiliar with. I had to come and find you. I had to stop them from taking you next . . .”

I squeezed his hand. It must have been a terrible fright, thinking he was about to lose his one and only chance at freedom. And hopefully he considered me as a friend now too—I suspected he did. I didn’t want to be the only one going all soft and squishy for the other.

“I’m grateful,” I whispered. “And I’m fine. Now catch your breath.”

I was more than grateful. My eyes took in the floating carcass of the serpent one last time, awestruck by its size and the implications.

His chest filled, then he climbed to his feet, his gaze narrowing on the floating monster, its pale belly dominating the shore. More and more of its length rose to the surface. It was so massive I couldn’t make sense of how it had ever fit in the lake at all.

“Get back to the train,” he said, expression as placid as the calming waters.

“Aren’t you coming?” I didn’t want to be where he wasn’t just then. If it wouldn’t have made me look like a scared fool, I’d have wrapped myself in his shadows like they were a security blanket.

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