I frown on him, the other fae, the one who’s dressed differently—and I can’t believe I never noticed him before.
Like the others, he wears leathers, but in place of weapons strapped to his person, the thigh-straps dangle with flat pouches, the belt is decorated with syringes and rolls of black bandages…
A doctor of sorts.
Whatever they call a doctor in their world, that’s what this one is.
So the stomach wound is more threatening than the bullet to the chest of the other guard.
And apparently neck shots are very effective.
That might have been good to know back on the frozen lake.
If I’d known…
I could’ve shot Dare then, blasted his neck wide fucking open, and we wouldn’t be in this position.
Emily would be alive for one.
That’s not a thrill for me, but it would make Bee happy.
And then…
What?
We’d just do what we were doing for months on end, chasing our tails around the west coast of Canada, hiding and following, hoping we weren’t found out on the journey to the dark fae’s secret way back to Britain.
Maybe we would’ve ended up like them—the two captives, bound and gagged, being thrown onto the back of a cart.
Those two are runaways. I recognise their faces, even through the blotchy tears.
But the next three to follow are new faces.
My brow furrows at that, some of the new captured people are shielded by the guards, and some are in the carts with the runaways.
Not all runaways are in the carts, either.
Whatever the logic is there, the selection process, I haven’t figured it out.
And it doesn’t matter, because once everything is settled, and the unit is back in formation, the warriors march onwards.
Towards the city.
The one they were always going to destroy.
Not even an onslaught of gunfire stops them.
The winter one keeps the tether in his white-bleeding fist for the march into the city. He doesn’t fasten it to his belt, and so I guess he’ll pass me off to the guards soon—
And I’m right.
He does just that.
The moment the unit is ready to really fuck this city up, to burn what’s left of it to the ground, I’m ditched with the ragtag group of captives in the courtyard area of some glass monster of a building.
I drop onto a concrete step, careful to remember my shin, stretching it out in front of me.
Connie sits beside me.
