Page 24 of Hunted in the Shadows
Through my daze, I heard her voice: melodic even in her stringent urgency.
With great effort, I moved my lips. “Sylvia?”
Scraps of sensation pulled me back to consciousness, little by little: the seat belt cutting across my chest, rain drumming on thewindows, the hissing gurgle of cold water seeping against my boots.
Wait—water?
A frustrated flit of wings preceded another twinge of pain—a lock of my hair being sharply tugged. Groaning, I opened my eyes. Sylvia darted back as I reached up to gingerly brush the tender spot on my head where I must’ve slammed it against the window. No nausea or crippling dizziness, all limbs responding without numbness. It seemed I had made it through without a concussion, at least.
The windshield bore a menacing crack, a spiderweb of fissures obscuring our view beyond. Frigid night air seeped through the glass, mingling with relentless rainwater as the storm battered on outside. Beside me, Cliff was fumbling to unbuckle himself with a groan. Sylvia flew to him, summoning a cerulean glow to her skin. Her ethereal light danced around the car’s interior, and a jolt of shock hit me as I registered our precarious angle.
Half the vehicle was submerged in the swamp.
“What hurts?” Sylvia demanded an inch from Cliff’s face.
“M’fine,” he hissed, brushing her away—urging her to land. “Get out of the air.”
“You could have hit your head, you idiot,” she said in a wavering voice. “You probablydid!”
Cliff’s jaw set. “Your wings are gonna get drenched, and then what? You plan on swimming out of here?”
He gestured at a dry spot on the dash, mostly devoid of glass shards. Sylvia wavered, then did as he said.
Sluggishly, I unbuckled and tested my range of movement. Then Sylvia gave a sharp gasp, patting down her waist and leggings. I went still, studying her posture for any sign of injury as she felt around her waist.Fuck, she could have been…
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“Barely even dizzy. You caught me,” Sylvia said, searching around distractedly. She sighed, her eyes swimming with almost-tears as they darted from me to Cliff to the pitch-black forest waiting outside. “It’s just—I can’t find the necklace you gave me. The clasp must’ve finally given up. Damn it. But never mind that now—we can’t stay here.”
Armed with what meager supplies we kept in the glovebox, Cliff and I climbed out of the car. The water hit up to my knees, sinking into my jeans uncomfortably. Sylvia tucked herself against my neck, seeing as her wings were useless in the deluge. I couldn’t tell if she was shivering from shock or cold, and I hated that I couldn’t do more to assuage her discomfort.
Eyeing the car’s position lodged between two waterlogged mangroves at the base of the sloping road, I supposed the fact that we were alive was its own comfort.
Every step sloshed as I joined Cliff at the back of the car. As he produced a flashlight and began pocketing a small arsenal, I pulled out my cell phone.
“No signal,” I said, squinting at the phone screen. “Puñeta. We’ll have to walk to the next town to get a tow. I think it’s six miles.”
My fingers quickly lost purchase on the wet glass, making it unusable. I tucked it away again, swallowing a shout of frustration.
“We can just follow the road, right?” Sylvia said, her voice still rife with nerves. I wanted so badly to hold her, but my soaked hands wouldn’t be of any help.
Cliff passed a couple of handguns to me, expression taut. “Genius,” he said under his breath.
I shot him a reproachful glare as I tucked the weapons away safely. Sylvia had done nothing to deserve his temper, but I conceded to the shiver of shock that lay beneath his coarse tone.
Cliff’s flashlight flickered as we rummaged through the trunk. He cursed, hitting the handle. This earned a few more moments of dim illumination before the batteries went out altogether, and darkness plunged around us. The drum of the freezing rain seemed to intensify as we willed our eyes to adjust, feeling blindly for the most crucial supplies.
A faint whisper came by my ear—and then a soft cerulean light blossomed. We stopped short, craning our necks; the glow Sylvia’s had conjured to her skin had detached into a fae light. The orb hung brightly over our heads, illuminating a five-foot radius around us. It brought the rippling water and moss-laden trees around us into focus—along with the supplies.
“Thanks,” Cliff muttered, locating two working flashlights in the clutter of our belongings. He tucked them both into a backpack with the other weapons and slung it over his shoulder.
“Not a problem,” Sylvia responded just as snippily.
Cliff straightened, his green eyes flashing at her in the peculiar light. “If you’re gonna be like this all night—”
“Me?” I felt Sylvia gesture widely at the torrential downpour. “We wouldn’t have had an issue if you hadn’t insisted on plowing through. But that’s what you do best, isn’t it?”
A whip of lightning split the sky above us, followed by a monstrous roll of thunder. Sylvia’s snarl tapered into a whimper of fear, and she curled against me to ground herself. Cliff’s gaze hardened on her, like this was condemning.
