Page 6 of Court of Aether and Shadows

I waved him off.

"Flesh wound. Now, let's get what we came for and get the hell out of here."

We regrouped around Daniels, who had finally started to come out of his hallucinogenic haze. Marco stood over him, puffing out his chest like he'd done anything other than cower and waste ammo.

We really have to start wearing bodycams so Vincent can witness what a shitty waste of space he is on the team.

"Please," Daniels whimpered, "I'll tell you anything. Just don't hurt me."

I crouched down, fixing him with a predator's gaze.

"Smart man. Start talking."

The next few minutes were a blur of information – account numbers, passwords, and names of other traitors within the Family. I recorded it all, my mind already racing ahead to our escape.

"We've got what we need," I said, standing. I hated wasting any more time once information was retrieved.Gives too much room for error and ambushes."Let's move."

We made our way out of the warehouse, stepping over groaning bodies and skirting puddles of blood. There’s an odd layer of satisfaction you feel when you walk away and acknowledge the damage you’ve instilled in the midst of the night.

A sense of victory that makes you feel alive.

But also a sense of dread that confirms you’ve lost that sense of humanity that was once merciful and forgiving.

The cool night air hit me like a slap to the face, and I suddenly felt lightheaded. The adrenaline was wearing off, and with it, the numbness that had been masking my injury.

Vincent was waiting by the car, his face impassive as ever.

"Report," he barked. He can’t sense the agony tempting my senses, and I have to make sure to keep it that way. As the only female on the team, you always gotta prove you’re not the weakest link because that’s just how it is.

Fuckers like Marco get away with the bare minimum, but a genius female with a makeshift degree of bomb concoctions, waivers a bit and she’s not fit to kill, lead, or be a part of a team of killers.

Sexist pricks.

I rattled off the key points of Daniels' confession, my voice steady despite the growing weakness in my limbs. Vincent nodded, satisfied with the relay of valuable information.

"Good work," he said, though the words held no warmth. "Marco, with me. We'll deliver the package." He gestured to a bound and gagged Daniels in the trunk. "You two clean up here."

“Yes, Sir,” we say in unison.

As they drove off, I finally allowed myself to sag against the wall.

The world was starting to spin, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision.

"Sparrow?" Liam's voice sounded far away, but the level of sudden panic in the depths of his tone made my stomach flip in unease.I hate worrying him. Feels like a slap in the face."Hey, stay with me!"

I felt his arms around me as my knees buckled, but I couldn’t fight the way gravity pulled me down. How it feels like I’m still sinking, despite being in strong, safe arms.

"S'okay," I slurred, realizing how far away even my voice sounded. Like an echo that keeps humming in the distance.That’s not good."Just a scratch, remember?"

"Like hell it is," he growled, lowering me gently to the ground. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like I’m lying down.Feels like I’m on fire while floating and falling at the same time. Mindfuckery, I tell you."You're burning up. That bullet must have been laced with something."

I tried to focus on his face, but it kept blurring into someone –something– else.

Horns. Golden eyes. A crown of shadows.

What’s even weirder is how the being alternates between an unknown creature of mystical beauty and then my best friend, who also looks so different. Stronger? Lethal? A mix of possessive control and dominance in his flawless face and golden eyes.

I can’t grasp it long enough before the image switches again.

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