My hands were red and blistered. Black spots swam in front of my eyes, and when my vision finally failed, I welcomed the darkness.
I didn’t fight the hands that caught me, yanking me to my feet. I didn’t resist when I felt the swaying motion of someone carrying me.
Just let me go. I wanted to stay in the comforting darkness forever.
The last thing I heard before I sank into nothingness was a terrible wail, a visceral scream of rage that resonated in my bones.
Then, at last, stillness.
It was the light tap of fingertips on my face that woke me. I opened my eyes to a glittering sky, the moon a shining silver orb nestled among a blanket of stars. Maggie’s face appeared then, blocking out the moon.
“Lainey?” she said, her voice hoarse, as though she’d been screaming for hours. “Can you hear me?” She prodded at my face again, unsure if I was really conscious or not.
I nodded, though I didn’t speak. Seeing the movement and realizing that I was at least somewhat coherent, Maggie’s face crumbled and she began to sob. She launched herself at me, squeezing my shoulders and gripping me as though she’d never let go.
It was her tears that broke through the fog inside my head. I struggled to sit up, but Maggie’s weight made it nearly impossible. “I’m okay, Mags,” I said, wincing at the rawness of my throat.
I managed to push her off of me enough to pull us both upright. Her face was pale, and her nose was red from crying. “Are you okay?” I ran my eyes over her, landing on the wound on her arm. I yanked the arm closer for inspection. The wound had stopped bleeding but was puffy and red. Bluish-black lines ran in all directions like a spiderweb from the indentation that looked like . . . teeth. All of the blood rushed from my head. I looked up at her face.
“Maggie . . . is that . . .” I broke off, unable to say the words.
“Yeah.” Maggie nodded, eerily calm about it. “The Scavenger bit me.”
Somewhere nearby, I caught the sound of a whispered conversation, but for the moment all I could do was stare at my best friend’s face. The best friend I had willingly thrown into the lion’s den. Shame colored my face. I had no idea how dangerous a shifter bite could be, or what might happen as a result, but if the black lines running from the wound were any indication, it wasn’t good.
“This is all my fault.” My voice cracked as the weight of my guilt threatened to crush me. I felt a surge of energy but forced it back. I took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. I never should have let you come.”
“We both know you couldn’t have stopped me.” Maggie took her own deep breath and wiped her cheeks clean of tears. “And look, we don’t really have time for this right now. We’ll deal with it later, okay?”
I nodded, finally looking around at my surroundings. “Where are we?” We appeared to be outside in a small wooded area. Everything was fuzzy, but my memory was clear enough to remember the fire. “How did we get away?”
Maggie smirked at me. “Well, after Gareth . . .” She faltered as a fresh wave of tears filled her eyes, but she swallowed and went on. “You incinerated the plantation, Lainey. Everything went up so fast, I thought for sure we were all dead.” Her eyes were wide. “They said you were powerful . . .” There was awe in her eyes, and it made me feel uncomfortable. I looked away.
“So how are we alive now?”
A voice rang out from behind me. “I believe we had a little something to do with that,” it said. I turned around and four figures—three men and one woman—moved toward us. Serena was with them, her face covered in soot, her eyes sad.
The woman had thick red hair that hung down her back in tousled waves. Her eyes were ringed with black, and her thick, prominent eyebrows were knitted in disgust. She was glaring at me.
“The Hetaeria,” I whispered, recognizing her face from the ballroom.
The woman nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course, and you’re lucky you didn’t burn yourself out up there, little witch.” The words were sharp and full of mirth. “Don’t you know how foolish that was?”
“Don’t you talk to me like that,” I snapped, indignation welling up inside me. “You have no idea . . .” My voice cracked and I swallowed, unable to say anything else without bursting into tears.
The woman’s face was still severe, but it softened slightly. She knelt down, her face level with mine. “Oh, I do know, little witch.” There was understanding in her eyes. “I do know.” She held out her hand. “My name is Zia.”
I hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. “And you work for the Hetaeria?”
“I do,” she nodded. “And my orders are to get you somewhere safe.”
There was something in her face that made me nervous. I looked at Maggie and Serena and then back at Zia.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
Zia leaned forward, her brows furrowed. “You don’t. But consider your alternatives. If you’d rather, I’ll have Julian here skip you right back to the ash heap you created. I’m sure the Master is dying to thank you for . . . redecorating.” Her tone was cold, and she waved her hand in the direction behind me. I looked, and through the tree line I could just make out the dark pillar of smoke.
“Is that how we got away? We . . . skipped?”
Zia shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you pretty much brought down the house all on your own. We just provided the getaway car, so to speak.” She motioned her comrades forward. “Julian, Blake, and Morgan are Skippers,” she explained.
I eyed the men carefully. One was tall and stocky with broad shoulders and tan skin—he could have easily passed as a linebacker. The one in the middle was fair skinned and short, but what he lacked in height he made up for in girth. He looked like one of those bodybuilders from the supplement infomercials. The third man had dark onyx skin and short, cropped hair. His eyes were cautious, but friendly.
“Skippers?”
“Teleportation,” the linebacker answered. “We can ’skip’ from place to place.” He smiled at me then, and I nearly cried at the kindness I saw in his face.
A chorus of deadly cries broke through the night air.
“We need to get out of here now,” Zia said, grabbing my hands and yanking me to my feet. “He’s sent the Guard after us, and we’re not prepared for a battle.”
Zia motioned the linebacker forward and turned to me. “Julian will get you and your friend here to safety.”
I nodded and leaned over to squeeze Maggie’s hand. She looked as nervous and unsure as I felt.
There was another chorus of howls, closer this time and more frenzied.
“We go now,” Zia ordered.
Julian gave me a tentative smile. “Ma’am,” he said, politely, “you’re gonna want to hold on tight.”