Cassian’s arm shoots out and bars me at the waist.
“Don’t touch her. She wants you. Not Lila.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. But watching Lila’s body thrash like a ragdoll while something monstrous writhes inside her makes every nerve in my body scream.
“I’m not done!” Rhea shrieks, slamming Lila’s fists against the concrete floor so hard I hear something crack. Whether it’s the floor or Lila’s bones, I don’t know. Both options make me want to throw up. “Skye. It’s all your fault.”
Lila’s skin is going grey at the edges. Dark veins are pushing through, crawling up her neck like ink instead of blood. Like those white flowers you put in colored water and the petals show you exactly where the lines run. Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Two voices come out of it now. One is Rhea’s, jagged and sharp. The other is small and broken and still human.
“We need to do something!” I shout.
But there’s nothing I can do.
My power is right there. I could call the scythe in less than a heartbeat. It would be useless. The scythe cuts souls. Right now Rhea’s soul and Lila’s soul are knotted together so tightly that if I cut one, I cut both.
Rhea slams Lila’s head against the wall.
The girl drops.
Black smoke pours out of her in a thick column. From her mouth. Her nose. Her eyes. It rises and gathers and takes shape above her body. Or what’s left of Rhea takes shape, anyway.
I’ve seen a wraith before. I know what they look like. I remember the cold of being near one. This is worse. Because under the smoke and the distortion and that hollow nothing of a presence, I can still see the outline of the girl who sat with me in the back of that van. Who told me her story. Who helped me put my soul back together when no one else could reach me.
“Rhea.”
The second my voice reaches her, I know.
Whatever is in front of me, it isn’t her anymore.
Cassian moves before I do. He lunges while the wraith is still settling, trying to use the suspended moment to land first. Talon flanks wide, dagger up, circling left.
The wraith doesn’t give them time.
She moves the way the Candy Maker moved. One moment she’s hovering above Lila, the next she’s at Talon’s throat. He ducks and slashes upward. The blade connects, slicing through the smoke, and she recoils with one of those sounds that buzzes in my teeth.
She used to be his friend.
Now she wants to gut him.
He and Cassian rotate without speaking. Talon goes in from the side. His blade catches across what would be her ribs. Thesmoke splits and stitches itself back together a beat slower than before.
“Be careful,” I shout, dropping to the floor.
I crawl to Lila. Her pulse is faint. Her skin is ice cold, like she’s been somewhere freezing for hours. I drag her into the far corner and put myself between her and the rest.
There’s no version of this that doesn’t end badly. I already know that. The last time I killed a wraith it nearly killed me, too. I had to merge with my pain, tap into every piece of hurt I carried and redirect it like a weapon. I’m a different person now, but the hurt is still there. It’s always there.
The real question is what comes after.
If Rhea turned, then her mentees turned too. Every single girl she poured her rage into. Every soul she fed on that same poison I tried to warn her about moments ago.
The scythe is back in my hand. I’m on my feet, ready to move, when something stops me.
Pressure in my chest. Not from the fight. Deeper than that.
A tingle at the base of my skull pushes past my body and touches something underneath it.
My soul knows before my brain does.
