Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)

“As far away from here as I could keep him,” I tell her.

“But . . . you’re his guardian. You’re supposed to be with Vane.”

“You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted,” Gus grumbles, shoving against the mesh curtain, trying to free her from her cage.

It won’t budge.

“Didn’t think about that,” he says, shaking the metal to no avail.

“Try your wind spike,” I tell him.

“On what?”

I look closer at the curtain, surprised to find there’s no lock. I honestly can’t tell how it’s held in place.

“I’m so sorry, Audra,” my mother whispers, and I glance up to find her looking at me.

She’s such a drippy mess, it’s hard to tell if she’s crying or sweating. But it makes my throat feel thick anyway.

Now I understand why Vane was ready to trust her. I’m feeling the same urge.

But can I?

Should I?

“I had no choice,” she tells me, pleading with her eyes for me to forgive her.

My life would be so much easier if I could give her what she wants.

But I can’t ignore the rage that’s always with me, simmering beneath the surface.

“What are you even sorry for?” I snap. “Killing dad? Blaming me? Murdering two innocent people? Ruining the lives of everyone you’ve ever met?”

“Yes to all of those things,” she says quietly, turning and walking away. Bones poke out of her frail, hunched shoulders as she hangs her head and mumbles, “But mostly . . .”

I can’t understand the last words.

It sounded like she said, “But mostly for this.”

But that doesn’t make any sense.

Or, it doesn’t until I hear a loud thump, like metal hitting bone, and Gus collapses. Before I can even scream, the needled edge of a windslicer presses against my throat and a strong arm wraps around me, pinning me against my captor’s body.

“You were the one I wanted anyway,” a sharp voice whispers in my ear, and it takes a second for my panicked brain to recognize it.

Raiden.





CHAPTER 41


VANE





A

frightened cry wakes me from my restless sleep, but when I tear my eyes open I’m still alone.

Still in the middle of the desert.

Still stuck with an elbow that feels like a pack of wild dogs is chewing on it.

But it wasn’t a nightmare that woke me.

It was the wind.

I close my eyes as the terrified Westerly surrounds me. Its song is a mess—all jumbled with panic. But one word jumps out.

Traitor.

I start to jump to my feet, but then I remember how not-cool that worked out for me last time and instead use the rock I’d been sleeping against to slowly pull myself up instead.

The dizziness still hits me, but deep breaths shove it back, and when my head clears I can feel the Westerly coiling around me, trying to drag me where I need to go.

“Hey—easy,” I tell it as it almost pulls me over. “What’s going on—did something happen to Audra?”

It’s a stupid question to ask the wind—and of course it doesn’t answer. It just repeats the same panicked song about traitors and tries to pull me into the sky.

I stop fighting and let it.

I hold my wind spike with my good arm, trying to feel ready for wherever this wind is bringing me. But nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing my valley up close.

I’ve seen disasters on TV.

I’ve even lived through a couple.

But this . . .

Mangled houses. Fallen trees. Smashed cars. Police. Ambulances. Firemen. Helicopters.

People are running. Blocking the roads. Screaming and shouting and wailing.

It’s chaos.

The kind of thing where reporters will come from miles around and the president will go on TV and try to say something to help people make sense of the destruction. But no one is going to understand this.

I can see the Living Storms still raging, scattered through the different towns—though it looks like there might be less of them. It’s hard to tell.

It’s hard to think.

One Storm is ransacking Indio and Coachella, and I can see two more shredding the mansions in Indian Wells and Rancho Mirage and another whipping through Cathedral City. But the worst of the fighting is in La Quinta, where three of the biggest Storms are tearing through the Cove. My Westerly steers me there.

I fly over my parents’ house and it’s actually still standing. But Isaac and Shelby weren’t so lucky. Shelby’s house is okay, but her car is smashed through the wall of her neighbor’s garage. And Isaac’s street is gone.

Like, gone gone.

Not a house. Not a tree. Even the sidewalk’s disappeared.

I’m glad I warned them to leave, but what will they come home to?

And what about their neighbors?

Fury makes me shake, but I can’t decide who I’m mad at.

Raiden may have created the Storms but . . .

They’re here because of me.

My Westerly picks up speed as we get closer to the Storms, but just as I’m gearing up for the fight of my life, it steers me into the mountains and drops me down on a narrow ledge.

A strong hand yanks me into a small cave.