Page 115 of Fairies Never Fall

I shield my eyes. Thunder rattles the pool house and the window shatters inward. The force of the explosion slams into me and steals the air from my lungs. I’m flying, tumbling into the plastic furniture, scrabbling for purchase as I stumble to my feet. Shouts ring through the aftermath. When I can see again, we’ve been exposed — the explosion tore the whole side of the pool house open. At first there’s only dust and debris fogging the air.

Ezra.

Relief pulses through my muscles when he slowly gets to his feet in front of me. His eyes find mine. Beyond him, a figure staggers toward the pool house. The sigil on its robe is cracked and dim, but its burning eyes are desperate. It happens quickly. The azeroth reaches for Ezra with a wordless snarl. I lunge. My ears are already ringing, my blood sizzling, my ur-form bursting out of my skin. My anger explodes out of me with it.

The azeroth lurches at me. Instead of running, something breaks in me.

They stole everything — my family, my home, my freedom. Now they want my magic, and it doesn’t matter to them who they kill to get it. Once I’m gone, they’ll go after Elsabeth. Then my people. When will it end?

I thought I was still a coward, unable to see past my own fears. I’m not. I’m scared, but I won’t let it stop me anymore.

I’ll give the azeroth what it came for and more.

A noise I don’t recognize tears from my throat. I attack, momentary satisfaction ripping through me as my claws sink into flesh. Then a sick tug in my gut makes me heave as the sigil squeezes some of my magic free. I stumble backward. The azeroth cackles in triumph, pressing forward.

“Lysander, get back!” Ezra tries to tug me away, but I’m done running and hiding.

I dart forward. The patchwork face twists in sudden fear and the azeroth puts its arms up in defense. That only infuriates me. Everything the azeroth is, it stole from other monsters. My claws slice through its ragged flesh again and again.

Every blow makes me weaker, my head fogging as my magic wicks away. Confusing voices assault me from all angles. I lash out at them, too, trying to clear the debris. Trying to finish my enemy.

Something restrains me. I don’t have the strength to rip free, no matter how hard I struggle. Blue fire erupts out of the azeroth’s chest before my eyes, and I snarl in frustration.Thwarted!The loathsome creature howls, claws curling around the spear that stands out from its body. Other monsters’ faces flit by. Proud minotaurs. Kind fauns. Haunting sirens. Blurring, melting together. Finally free. My knees waver.

The voices rise.

The azeroth’s disguise of many monsters sloughs away, revealing nothing but dust.

Everything goes dark.

41

EZRA

Igrip Lysander’s unconscious body, not caring that I’m bleeding where he sliced me without meaning to. Today has been a dream turned nightmare. I press my lips to his forehead.

“Wake up, baby. Please.”

Someone kneels next to me, dripping water on the tile. Lysander’s sister. She touches his pulse, something I was — stupidly — not present enough to do. “He’s alive.”

I can’t think straight. “We have to get him to a hospital.”

“No — to The Sanctum.” Maddox appears out of nowhere. “I’ll drive.”

I don’t know how I get Lysander into the back of Maddox’s station wagon. I barely register the pool full of thick, brown sludge we leave behind. I don’t have a clue what I say to Lysander while he can’t hear me.

I can’t let myself think about losing him.

At The Sanctum, Elsabeth tries to help me carry Lysander inside. “Give him to me. You’re bleeding.”

I ignore her. I can’t let go of him.

“Who’s bleeding?” Fitzie demands, hurrying after us. The others must have followed pretty quick. “Jesus, Ezra. That looks bad!”

“I’m fine,” I growl.

“Take him to Syril’s office,” Orion says sharply. The flaming sword made of shadows flashes behind my eyes when I look at him.Was that his ur-form?

Inside Syril’s office, I lay Lysander on the expensive leather couch and kneel beside him. “Where’s Syril?”

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