Behind Hella, surging flames crashed against the shield, momentarily abated in the pursuit of their prey.
Hella leaned down to urge Cassandra into motion. “Make passengers wait in water. I release lifeboats.”
Hella dissolved the shield and the flames licking at the edges extinguished as cool night air rushed in.
In the wrecked hole that used to be the dining hall, the fire stalled, its ravenous consumption of the ship halted by Hella’s destruction of its fuel.
Gusts of wind stirred Cassandra’s loose waves as the other Windriders on board fled, gathering their families and belongings. Leaving flightless Fae and humans to fend for themselves.
Hella snarled, snapping her sharp canines. “Selfish.” She tipped her head down, noticing Cassandra still crouched below her. “Go, tiny human!”
“Not sure how I feel about Tristan sharing that nickname,” Cassandra sniped, rising slowly and awkwardly, trying not to pull at the burns on her leg.
“Fits too good,” Hella smirked, then took off towards the back of the ship, her crimson wings streaming behind her.
Cassandra began a slow campaign down the ruined hallway, encouraging frightened humans to leap over the sides of the ship, splash into the night-dark waters, and float in place until Hella arrived with a lifeboat.
Hella put a Beastrunner in charge of the first boat. The newly appointed captain, a burly bear bi-form who even as a human was covered in dark brown hair, circled the wreckage, helping both humans and Fae into the boat—a welcome sight that eased the sting of those Windriders’ self-centered abandonment.
As Cassandra was helping a young man and his wife over the side, a bolt of realization shot through her.
Cora’s memory.
She’d left it in the cabin.
She watched the couple plummet into the water and then surveyed the mangled berths. She had no idea which was the one she’d shared with Tristan.
A vision of what they’d done in that cabin overtook her frazzled mind: his rough hand cupping her breast, his tongue flicking over her nipple, the hard ridge of his arousal pumping against her.
“Not the time for that, horny idiot,” she scolded herself as she began a frantic search for their cabin.
Embers of the once-raging inferno smoldered along the ruined hallway as she checked each gutted room, trying to identify any remaining belongings.
She nearly collapsed with relief as she spied her leather satchel. Then jumped out of her skin as Tristan crashed onto the bed, splintering the frame and tearing through the mattress—finishing the devastation Hella had wrought.
He grabbed her shoulders, his mouth a slash of rage and worry, then turned her around to scan every inch of her body.
“Mighty Anaemos, babysitter, calm down! I’m fine.”
He aimed a pointed look at the angry burns on her forearm and thigh, both blistered.
“Well, other than those two little nicks. Did you catch her?”
“No,” Tristan ground out, his eyes boiling with murderous intent. “But I assume she was sent by Maksym. Probably to get rid of us.”
Cassandra lifted up the flap of her satchel and let out a long string of non-curses.
Tristan grabbed her shoulders again. “What’s wrong?”
She scowled, opening her satchel wide.
“Cora’s memory is gone.”
CHAPTERTEN
Xenia was determined to make it hurt this time.
If only to wipe that smug half smile off Cael’s face.
