Shadowfever

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling, her curly auburn hair more lustrous than ever. She even looked a little plumper, as if she had an extra layer or two of collagen beneath her skin.

“Think she gave you a little extra back, Dani,” I teased. But I wasn’t entirely certain the Gray Woman hadn’t. Dani glowed, her skin shimmered translucent, her eyes were so green they were mesmerizing. Ruby lips pursed in a pretty moue.

“Think my boobs are bigger,” she said with a smirk. Then she sobered. “Shoulda let her kill me, and you know it.”

“Never gonna happen,” I said.

“ ’Stead you went and made some kinda devil deal with the creepy feck.”

“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. We’ll figure it out when it becomes a problem. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

Dani keeps it cool, all the time. On the rare occasions she lets you see a feeling, it’s one she’s chosen to paste on her face and let you see. She has a vast arsenal of scowls and disgruntled sneers, she’s nailed every nuance of saucy grins and cocky swaggers known to man, and I suspect she perfected the Look of Death by five.

Her face is naked now, wide open. Unadulterated adoration blazes in her eyes. “This is the best birthday ever! Ain’t never had nobody do something like that for me,” she said wonderingly. “Not even Mom—” She broke off, clamping her lips in a thin line.

“Peas in the Mega pod,” I said, tousling her curls, as we headed down the alley behind the bookstore. “Love you, kid.”

She jerked but quickly slapped an insouciant grin over her shock. “Dude, I’m even gonna let you get away with calling me kid. Really think I’m prettier? Not that I care or nothing, just wanna know what kinda pain in the ass it’s gonna be when I’m even hotter than I was before, and Dancer gets a good—”

“Brought ussh tasshty to drink, fassht one? Lassht one wassh sshweeeeet.”

I whirled, spear up. They’d either sifted in or been hiding in the shadows, motionless, and we’d been so caught up in relief at our near escape that we’d been oblivious.

A pair of Unseelie I’d never seen before stood by the trash dumpster by the rear door of BB&B. They were identical, each with four arms and four slender, tubular legs, three heads apiece, and dozens of mouths on their flat, horrific faces, with tiny, needle-sharp teeth. At the corners of the many mouths were pairs of much longer thin teeth, and I knew, without knowing how I knew, that they used them as straws.

My sister had been missing the marrow in her bones, her endocrine glands had been drained, her eyeballs were collapsed, and she’d had no spinal fluid. The coroner had been at a complete loss.

I wasn’t. Not anymore.

I knew what caste had killed Alina. What had gnawed and ripped and torn at her flesh to slowly and carefully remove all her inner fluids as if they were gourmet delights.

What they’d said penetrated, belatedly.

Brought us tasty to drink, fast one? Last one was sweet.

I froze, horrified. Surely that didn’t mean what it sounded like it meant. Dani was the fast one. What—Why—My brain turned to sludge.

They were staring behind me with hopeful expressions. “She issh ourssh, assh well?” Six mouths spoke as one. “You mussht take her sshpear for ussh. You mussht make her helplessh, like you did other blondie. Leave in alley with ussh again.”

Dani. I open my mouth. I can’t seem to make a sound.

I hear a choking noise behind me, a strangled sob.

“Do not go, fassht one!” Six mouths cry, gazes fixed behind me. “Come back, feed ussh again! We are ssho hungry!”

I turn and stare at Dani.

Her eyes are enormous, her face pale. She’s backing away from me.

If she draws her sword, it’ll make everything easy.

She doesn’t.

“Draw your sword.”

She shakes her head and takes another step backward.

“Draw your fucking sword!”

She bites her lower lip and shakes her head again. “Ain’t doing it. I’m faster. Ain’t killing you.”

“You killed my sister. Why not me?” The dark lake in my head begins to boil.

“Ain’t like that.”

“You brought her to them.”

Her face screws up with anger. “You don’t know a fecking thing ’bout me, you stupid fecking fecker! You don’t know nothing!”

I hear rustles behind me, leathery wet sounds, and I whirl. The freaks that killed my sister are taking advantage of the distraction and trying to leave.

Not a chance in hell. This is what I’ve been living for. This moment. My revenge. First them, then her.

I lunge for them, screaming my sister’s name.

I slice and rip and tear.

I begin with my spear and end with my bare hands.

I fall on the pair like the beast form of Barrons. My sister died in an alley with these monsters working on her, and now I know it wasn’t fast. I can see her, white-lipped with pain, knowing she’s going to die, scratching a clue into the pavement. Hoping I’ll come, afraid I’ll come. Believing I could succeed where she failed. God, I miss her! Hatred consumes me. I devolve into vengeance, I embrace it, I become it.

When I finish, there are no pieces larger than my fist.

I’m shaking, gasping, covered with bits of flesh and gray matter from smashing their skulls.

Feed ussh again! they’d demanded.

I double over and hit the pavement, puking. I puke until I dry-heave, then I dry-heave until my ears ring and my eyes are stinging.

I don’t have to look behind me to know she’s long gone.

I finally got what I came to Dublin for.

I know who killed my sister.

The girl I’d begun to think of as my sister.

I curl in a tight ball on the cold pavement and cry.

37

As I stepped out of the shower, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It wasn’t pretty.

In all the time I’d been in Dublin, with all the horrors I’ve encountered, I’ve never seen quite this expression on my face.

I look haunted. Haunted is all about the eyes.

I feel haunted.

I came here for revenge. I brace my palms on either side of the bathroom sink and lean close into the mirror, studying myself.

Who’s in there, behind my face? A king that wouldn’t think twice about killing a fourteen-year-old girl I love? Loved. Hate her now. She took my sister to an alley, gave her to monsters that slaughtered her.