Now? There’s smooth skin beneath shredded fabric.
“Your arm.” I stumble sideways, water sloshing around my thighs. “You were bleeding everywhere?—”
“The water made it look worse than it was.” His voice is too steady, too controlled. “Blood spreads in water. Small cuts can look fatal.”
“That wasn’t a small cut.” My voice pitches higher, hysteria bubbling up. “That was atourniquet-and-ambulancecut. That was ayou’re-going-to-need-your-arm-amputatedcut.”
He steps toward me, his hands raised like he’s approaching a wild animal. Which, honestly, fair. “Jade?—”
“Don’t ‘Jade’ me!” I snap, my words tumbling out too fast. “Has this happened before? Do murder mermaids just casually crash school parties? Is this a twisted part of the curriculum no one thought to mention? Another trial, like the one with the Hydra?”
“This has never happened before.” His jaw tightens. “The tower’s been used for parties for centuries. It’s always been safe, even though we make it sound like it isn’t.”
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t safe now.” I splash as I gesture wildly at the rising water. “We need to tell someone. We need to?—”
“We need to go back upstairs.” He pushes through the water and moves calmly toward the stairs. “Act normal. Don’t mention this to anyone.”
I laugh, sharp and ragged. “Act normal? I just stabbed a water demon. You healed from a deadly wound in minutes. Nothing about this isnormal.”
He pauses halfway to the stairs, one hand braced on the wall, the other holding his dagger so tightly his knuckles are white. When he turns, his gray eyes catch the torchlight, and for a heartbeat, pain flickers there.
“Yes,” he says at last, the word clipped. “We act normal.”
“Does that include…” Heat floods my face as another memory surges. The wall at my back, his mouth on mine, and the way he took me apart during hisexperimentto test my control. “Does that include pretending you didn’t just…” I motion to the wall he had me pinned to moments before all hell broke loose.
He looks away, and when he speaks, his voice is quieter. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
I’m about to protest, but footsteps echo down the spiral stairwell, and I press my lips together to stay silent.
Logan’s shoulders tense, and he takes a deep breath, like he’s pulling himself together by sheer willpower. “Follow my lead,” he murmurs, barely audible over the approaching footsteps.
“Fine.” I match his quietly clipped tone. “But we’re talking about this later.”
He gives me a look that isn’t a promise or a refusal, which I suppose is enough for now.
We reach the bottom of the stairs as two figures turn the corner. Miles, holding a small flame in his palm for light, and Evie, her eyes widening as she takes in the flooded room.
“Logan?” Miles’s eyebrows shoot up, his gaze moving to me. “And Jade? What are you two doing down here?”
JADE
“Checking the water levels,”Logan answers Miles’s question smoothly, like we’re not standing in what was just a supernatural battlefield. “The tide’s coming in faster than usual. It probably won’t reach the third floor, but we should clear it, just in case.”
Miles descends a few steps, his firelight sweeping across the water.
Logan keeps his focus on Miles. “Why did you come down here?”
“I was looking for you, actually.” Miles’s eyes fix on Logan with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. “I asked Evie to help, since she’s skilled at reading heat signatures. Oliver’s been bragging about her for years to anyone who would listen.”
Evie shifts uncomfortably behind him. “It’s not that impressive. Oliver exaggerates.”
Logan stiffens, evaluating Evie. “You tracked us here?” he asks, and his exhaustion seems to vanish, replaced by something coiled and ready.
“I noticed heat signatures heading to the second floor.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, unable to meet Logan’sgaze. “I didn’t think anyone ever came this way, so it was worth a shot.”
Miles glances at me, and his body goes rigid. “That’s Alessandra’s dagger.”
My grip tightens on the leather hilt, my heart racing. Because how does he know that? Why does he care?
