I think about that. Yes, I was scared then. But now there’s no doubt in my chest. Making Mark pay is what I want.
“We had a lot going on,” I say, enjoying the view as we pull away; a pair of crows cuts past the window, wingtip to wingtip with me. “Plus, I didn’t trust you guys as much.”
Regular people wouldn’t understand how huge this is: retaliating against someone who killed you.
The feelings are… messy.
I needed time to sort them, especially now that everything feels three times sharper than it used to.
But the dust has settled, a plan has been drawn, and there’s nothing stopping me now.
Absolutely nothing.
“Well, now you can trust that we’ll see it through,” Nathaniel murmurs. “You’ll get what you deserve. And so will he.”
The rest of the drive passes in silence. Talon needs it to outmaneuver the birds on the road, so I stay quiet. Still, my leg won’t stop bouncing. I couldn’t describe the depth of my feelings even if I tried.
Pain isn’t here, but I can feel him trailing behind us, using his powers to keep up while staying out of sight.
When we reach the pretty suburbs, we park two streets away. The crows don’t care about discretion, so they follow in a black ribbon, sliding from telephone wire to roof to garden fence to trash can.
And the guys? They’re more prepared than I expected, even after all the case files they’d shown me.
Talon opens the trunk and pulls out a battered metal detector. It’s made to look legit because he made it look legit. It has a couple of folding tripods, and a hard case. I eye him from head to toe, my gaze lingering on those foxy eyes and curved lips.
“You’re such a cheat,” I say.
He shrugs. “Takes one to know one.” Then he winks.
Nathaniel moves slower, the flash drive already humming in his pocket, his phone screen glowing with open tabs and uploads queued. He rolls his shoulders once, then starts removing his piercings. His eye contacts are already in, turning his milky white irises a light blue.
He transforms so completely that when a woman in her mid-thirties passes us on the sidewalk, she actually smiles at him.Smiles. As if she finds him friendly, safe, andnormal.
If only she knew.
We cross the next two streets separately. Talon and Nathaniel take the shortest route, walking openly. Cassian and I loop around the long way, bringing the flock of crows with us.
Whenever a car passes or someone walks their dog, we throw our hands over our heads, pretending to be as startled by the birds as everyone else. I even fake a nervous laugh once, loud enough for a man with a golden retriever to hear. He hurries off, yanking the leash so hard the poor dog stumbles.
“They’ll talk,” Cassian mutters.
“Good,” I whisper back. “They’ll say the birds flocked to the willow tree. Most of them are religious. It’ll add to Mark’s ruined reputation.”
When we reach the street behind my grandmother’s house, the real game begins.
“We need to get onto the neighbor’s property and jump the fence. We’ll come out right behind the willow,” I say, a tingling curling in my belly.
I have to do it James Bond–style this time—no flickering in and out, no cheating the material world. Just good old trespassing, breaking and entering, and maybe some teeth-baring if I see Jessica first.
“Which windows have the best sightline to the tree?” Cassian asks without hesitation.
“His office and their bedroom,” I whisper. “You can see the yard clear as day.”
He grunts. “Alright.”
Under his lead, we cut across the neighbor’s yard and reach the fence. The crows follow, settling in the hedges, clumping along the roofline, and stalking the birdbath like they already own the place.
Cassian crouches, interlaces his fingers, and jerks his chin at me. “Up.”
