The forest is a landscape of shadows, the blood dripping into my eyes making it harder to see. I follow her scent, tripping over fallen limbs and roots until I spot her silhouette in a gap between two oak trees.
Her attacker is at least a head taller. Lean and wiry. The red light of his transmitter is the only bright spot in the darkness. Fleur shifts uneasily, and I push myself faster as two more red lights flicker in the trees.
Three. There are three of them.
“You can’t run from this.” The Guard lunges at Fleur, drawing back abruptly when she raises her hands. With a frustrated growl, he conjures a spark.
“No!” I shout.
He turns, flame poised, eyes narrowed toward the sound of my voice. Suddenly, all three Guards are rushing to intercept me. Fleur roars, and the trees come alive. Roots erupt, tripping the two Guards closing in. Fleur ensnares their legs, dragging them violently over the ground. She grasps at the air, then jerks her fists. The branches bend to her will, driving like spears into the earth, impaling both Guards with a horrible wet sound.
I stumble back, nearly tripping over myself as their magic hisses past me toward the ley lines.
The third Guard skids to a halt, his flame wavering uncertainly on his palm. Fleur’s face is a grim mask of concentration, her hair alive with static. He cries out as the trees lash around his wrists and suffocate his flame. Roots tear from the ground, snagging his ankles. Teeth clenched, Fleur jerks her fists abruptly apart. I avert my eyes as a spray of warm blood taints the air.
The Guard’s screams stop.
I drop to my knees. His remains flare into a ball of concentrated light. It burns a trail through the forest, searching for a ley line home.
I straighten up slowly, sickened by the sensation of blood on my face. But it’s not the Guard’s. It’s my own. The forest swims as Fleur rushes toward me.
“Don’t try to get up,” she says, dropping to her knees.
“I’m fine.” I shrink back as she tries to take my face in her hands. Ican feel the heat of her blush even in the dark, as if she’s embarrassed by what she’s done. But she’s not the one who should feel ashamed. Fleur just killed three Guards in the span of a minute. She’s not even at peak. And she did it alone. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened,” I say, the shame sharp on my tongue. I’m supposed to be the stronger of us. It’s cold here. Almost my season. I should be taking care of Fleur. I should have been strong enough to protect her.
“The Guard touched you. That’s all,” she says, as if a Guard’s touch should explain everything. The bleeding knot at the back of my skull tingles where her fingers rub it. The pain fades and my dizziness begins to clear. “You’ll feel better in a few hours,” she says, searching me for injuries. But it’s her willingness to make excuses for me that hurts worst of all.
“No, it wasn’t that.” I take her wrist. Make her look at me. “Guards are neutrally charged. That’s why we couldn’t feel them or smell them coming. A touch wouldn’t have killed me, or even drained me. If she’d wanted to kill me, she would have used a weapon.”
Fleur’s eyes narrow in the dark. “So you got beat up by a girl. It’s not such a big deal—”
“That’s not it, Fleur! That Guard grabbed me just before she jumped through the ley lines. I think she was trying to take me home.”
Fleur’s mouth goes slack. She sinks back on her heels, the flash of the lilies reflected in her eyes along with all the fearful thoughts she’s not voicing.
Fleur never had to touch her opponent—the earth is her weapon. Amber can conjure fire using the energy in the air all around her. And Julio can drown a man where he stands just by manipulating the moisturein the air. But me? Wind is an imprecise shield, and ice is a breakable weapon. I’ll be easier to catch than the others. Easier to kill.
“You’ll have to be careful,” she says, a deep crease pulling at her brows.
A shout echoes from the beach, and a bright light soars across the sky. Fleur and I haul each other to our feet and run, the streetlights guiding us back through the trees toward the parking lot. We duck as we clear the woods, squatting at the edge of the pavement to count heads. Poppy’s white-blond crown is a beacon under the bathhouse ramp. Three other shadows huddle beside her. Fleur’s wound tight as a drum as she scans the dunes for Julio. I follow her gaze, but I don’t see Julio or Cyrus anywhere.
A pile of toppled trash barrels stirs. Amber clambers out of it. Her face is bruised, her lip bloody. Hunter paces the parking lot, waiting for her. The light we saw from the woods must have been Cyrus. But where the hell is Julio?
“We should help her.” I push myself up, but Fleur tugs me back down again. She points to a shadow under the bathhouse. It glides like a ghost between the stilts and crouches out of sight.
“Give it up, Amber.” Hunter spits blood, adjusting his grip on his knife. “Come out of there, and I’ll make it quick.”
Amber sways on her feet, her face darkened with blood so thick I can smell it from here. Hunter looks down at his watch in a show of impatience. While his head’s down, the ghost under the bathhouse strikes. Julio launches from the shadows, slamming Hunter onto his back. Hunter’s combat knife skids over the pavement. They roll, one on top of the other, until Hunter has Julio pinned by the throat.
Fleur leaps to her feet, but Amber’s already in motion. She swoops,scraping Hunter’s knife off the ground. Julio thrashes. His eyes are wide with panic as he swats at Hunter, striking out blindly between choked breaths. Something skitters to the ground, a red light bouncing off the pavement as Amber draws the knife across Hunter’s throat.
Hunter sags. Julio coughs, starved for air. He rolls out from under Hunter’s body as it crumples. The breeze carries the unmistakable smell of death.
Amber backs away from the swelling pool of Hunter’s blood. Away from the red light flashing in the middle of it.
The combat knife hits the ground. Her hands tremble.
Fleur and I approach slowly. Breaths held, we watch as Hunter’s remains rise like sparks from a campfire. The wind tosses them over the bathhouse, over the beach and the woods, everywhere and nowhere, a shower of dying fireworks, guttering in the night.
