Page 87 of Hunted in the Shadows
“Good thing we’re stocked up on iron, then.” Cliff lifted a brow at the sour look Sylvia threw at him for the mere mention of the toxic substance. “Sorry, kiddo. Nothing personal.”
She sighed, wearily waving a hand. “No, I know Elysia didn’t exactly roll out their warmest hospitality when you came to save me.”
“What, the entire fleet of guards trying to burn us alive? I barely noticed.” Cliff angled his head to catch her eye.“What’s the game plan if we find a village out here, then? Assuming they don’t try to kill us on sight, you’ve still got your mark. You said other villages knew its warning.”
I tried not to notice how Gwen had fallen unusually quiet, drinking in the fragmented glimpses of our history with bridled curiosity. She observed as Sylvia touched her traitor mark self-consciously, pulling her fingertips across the dark runes.
“That’s what I was told,” she answered. The stiffness in her voice was a tell—the terrifying frustration of realizing the majority of her worldview had been filtered through people who may not have had her best interests at heart. With the distance between us and Elysia, it was nearly impossible to determine which parts of oral tradition had been true, and which had been fodder to a culture of fear.
“So, we get there,” Cliff went on, brows pulling together slightly. “And you’re gonna say what exactly?‘Hi, my name’sSylvia. I was banished by my last village for allying with humans, but I thought I’d pop in for a social visit?’”
Sylvia met his gaze, her lips quirking. “Well, it’ll sound better when I say it,” she said airily. She was getting good at that—masking how frightened she really was. She turned to Gwen, all anxiety pushed from her expression replaced by a steely set to her jaw. “That church basement must be where the outpost was keeping that captured fairy. A fire affinity. What were they hoping to gain from…studyingthem?”
Expression unreadable, Gwen stared at the canvas-strewn wall across the room. Sighing, she pulled her leg up on the cushion and brushed her hand over her healed skin.
“Hell if I know,” she muttered. “The cleaners were at each other’s throats about laying claim to wings and bones before Rhett stepped in and insisted they keep the fairy alive.” Her expression somehow became more grim. “Rumor was, he wanted its blood. Not long after the fairy was moved, Rhett was flashing cash and going on about improvements for the outpost.”
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look at Sylvia. Her eyes were fixed on the rug, and she made no move to speak.
“There weren’t any others after that?” I asked Gwen.
She shrugged. “None that I can tell you about—I wouldn’tknow. But it’s not a stretch to say there’s a settlement of fairies out there. Hell, I had nightmares about a swarm of them coming down on the outpost after what happened to their friend.”
“Stars.” Sylvia buried her face in her hands and shuddered. Cliff offered a soft word of comfort, touching her arm delicately. But when she looked up, it wasmyeyes she found first. She started to push herself off the armrest, started to come tomefor comfort again.
But that was all wrong. She shouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere near someone like me. I stood before she could reach me, pacing toward the other side of the room. The people I haggled and drank with would readily slaughter her and her people on sight. And the worst of it was that I couldn’t help but wonder—what ifIhad been there during the fairy’s initial capture in the swamp? Could I have been just as eager to be the one to take down strange, new prey?
I wanted to say no, but in the frenzy of bloodlust, I couldn’t be sure. My stomach churned at the knowledge that death wasn’t even the end of a fairy’s abuse at the hands of outpost residents. How many of the renovations had been paid for with that fairy’s life?
SMASH!
The shatter of glass sent my hand straight for the gun in my jacket. Cliff and Gwen were on their feet at once, all of us turning to find Hannah in the hallway. Gwen staggered a little—not from pain, but surprise that she could walk so easily.
For a terrible moment, I thought blood was trickling over the shards of glass on the ground in front of her, but it was only strawberries.
Gwen drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, no—honey? Can you hear me?”
Hannah’s eyes fluttered. A soft moan escaped her lips, followed by a series of rapid breaths as though she was hyperventilating. Her fluttering gaze became fervent, searching until it found Cliff. She froze, eyes going wide and desperate as she stared at him dead-on. In the next instant, she broke into a toothy smile.
“You’re Cliff Everett, aren’t you?” Her voice was hoarse, laced with a fragile hope.
Cliff flinched a step back.
“The one from the legends,” she went on. Her stare was unwavering, unblinking. “Are you going to save us?”
“What the fuck is she talking about?” Cliff asked, turning to Gwen, who had her hands over her mouth.
“You’re Cliff Everett, aren’t you?” Hannah spoke faster, frenzied. “The one from the legends. Are you going to save us? You’re Cliff Everett—”
“Enough! Snap out of it!” Cliff shouted, starting toward her.
“No!” Gwen sharply pulled on his arm. “It’s alright—let it pass.”
I found Sylvia hovering behind my shoulder. I searched her gaze, silently questioning if she knew what the hell was going on, but she looked just as baffled. When I faced Hannah again, she wavered like she might keel over. Rushing forward instinctively, I took her arms to steady her.
She straightened at once, gasping at my touch as though I was wrenching her out of a watery tomb. With a raspy breath, she set her wide eyes on me, hands flying up to clutch the side of my face. Her fingernails dug against my skin. Her smile was gone, replaced by a look of unrelenting horror.
“You,” she wheezed. “Her love will ruin you.”
