Page 32 of Panther in the Shadows
"That was different. That was survival instinct."
"This is the same thing. Survival. Protection. Taking back what was stolen from you." My thumbs trace circles on her knuckles. "And you're not doing it alone. I'll be right there with you."
The air between us thickens. Her pulse jumps under my touch, visible in the hollow of her throat. This close, I can count the freckles scattered across her nose.
Dangerous territory. Focus belongs on the hunt.
"Three hours." She steps back, breaking contact. "I'll be ready."
The eastern cove spreads below us like a wound in the coastline. Black rocks jut from dark water. Waves crash in steady rhythm that's pounded this shore since before humans walked the island. The convergence point sits at the waterline where stone meets sea meets sky.
Perfect location for a murder.
We've been here for two hours, hidden among the rocks above the beach. The sun set forty minutes ago, painting the water blood-red before fading to purple and finally this thick darkness. No moon yet. Just stars scattered across the sky and the phosphorescence of disturbed water marking each wave.
Moira sits beside me, close enough that I feel her presence but not touching. She's been quiet since we arrived, focused on the protective wards she wove into the rocks around us. Salt-blessed water in patterns that shimmer faintly with residual magic. Black salt scattered at cardinal points. Moonstone powder mixed with dried rowan berries creating barriers against necromantic corruption.
The preparation took an hour. Watching her work revealed layers I hadn't expected. Confidence in her magic that contradicts her earlier doubt. Precision in her ward-crafting that speaks to years of study even if she claims she ran and hid from this power.
"Tell me about Elspeth." The question breaks the silence between waves. "What was she like? Before."
She goes still beside me. For several long seconds, I think she won't answer. Then her voice comes, barely louder than the water below.
"Wild. Fearless. Everything I wasn't." The words carry old pain polished smooth by years of repetition. "She had the sea witch gift even stronger than mine. Gran said she'd be the most powerful Flynn in generations. Could call storms when she was seven. Make the tide turn just by wanting it. The magic loved her in ways it never loved me."
"You think the wrong sister survived."
"I know the wrong sister survived. Elspeth should be the one sitting here. She would have stopped this ritual before it started. Would have sensed the corruption the moment someone began binding drowned spirits." Her hands clench in her lap. "Instead, I'm here. The weaker one. The one who failed."
I know this feeling. Carried it across an ocean when I fled Spain with my brother's blood on my hands.
"I had a younger brother." The confession surprises me, but something about the darkness makes truth easier. "Diego. Five years younger. I loved him despite everything."
She turns toward me, attention moving from the water below.
"Seven years ago, I came home early and found him in bed with my fiancée." The memory plays out in sharp detail. Blood on marble floors. My brother's eyes going dark. "He attacked me when I confronted him. Silver knife, full fury, everything he had. It wasn't enough."
"And?"
"I killed him." Flat. Final. The truth I've carried alone since arriving on this island. "Self-defense. He had a silver knife, I had my shadow-walker speed. It was over before I could think. Before I could choose a different way to end it."
"What happened after?"
"My father exiled me. Chose to blame me for Diego's death rather than face what his favorite son really was. So I left Spain with my brother's blood on my hands and nothing else."
"So we're both haunted by siblings we failed to save." Her voice holds no judgment. Just understanding born from shared pain.
"Diego made his choice. Came at me knowing what I was. What I'm capable of." The distinction matters even if it doesn't ease the guilt. "But Elspeth didn't choose to drown. Didn't ask to be bound by some summoner's twisted ritual. That's different."
"Is it? You loved your brother despite everything. I loved my sister more than anything. We both failed to protect them when it mattered." She moves closer, shoulder pressing against mine. "And now we're both carrying that weight while hunting whoever's using my sister's death as a weapon."
The contact sends awareness through me. Warm presence in the cold night air. Her scent surrounding me despite the salt spray and stone.
"After Diego died, I swore I'd never let emotion compromise me again. Never let anyone close enough to become a vulnerability." The admission comes easier in darkness. "Walls go up. Distance gets maintained. Protection through isolation."
"How's that working for you?"
"It was working perfectly." My gaze stays on the water below, watching for movement. "Until I realized someone might have weaponized a sea witch and I agreed to help hunt them down."
