“Am I the only one who’s going to land a hit all night?” another man called from the sidelines.
An alp that had died mid-shift lay in the middle of the range, bleeding out. Its body was a mess of talons, scales, feathers, and rows of sharp teeth—and I tried not to shiver at the memory of the Outpost’s domed fighting ring splintered with ice. A juvenile howler calmed down enough to lap at the corpse’s blood, but the muzzle masking its snout wouldn’t allow it to taste. It gave a heavily filtered whine, nothing like the piercing cries its kind was known for.
The biggest monster of the bunch was a calygreyhound. It hopped about with its deerlike frame and feline features, front legs gnarled and clawed like an eagle’s. Its horns had been removed, and I had a feeling I’d be able to find them up for auction somewhere.
A woman in an ivory dress was next in line to try her luck. She raised the pistol, squeezed one eye shut, and managed to land a hit on a crocotta. My skin prickled when the creature didn’t squeal in pain and instead perfectly mimicked the woman’s triumphant laughter. It was giving in to the only instinct it knew, but that wouldn’t protect it here.
After a few more failed shots, the attendant relieved the woman of the gun and reloaded it to hand to the next person, a man who only managed to frighten the creatures into scattering. In their agitation, several of the monsters were snapping at each other, causing more wounds to their fellow captives than the would-be marksmen could hope to inflict.
My stomach twisted uncomfortably. The display was repulsive. Monsters weren’tentertainment. They were blights on the world that needed to be put down—end of story. This kind of cruelty nearly put humanity down totheirlevel.
And though these unnatural creatures would tear a family to ribbons, a pang of discomfort shot through me again when the crowd roared with laughter at the sight of one cowering in the back corner.
Without a second thought, I took my place in line. When the attendant handed me the gun, I made quick work of it, firing off three shots: head, heart, heart. The chatter and excitement surrounding the range dropped deader than the monsters.
A small part of me wished Cliff were here to clap me on the shoulder and diffuse the tension. I glanced at the wide-eyed line behind me with a tight smirk.
“Lucky shot.” I shrugged.
Amidst the murmurs of disappointment and admiration, I wished I could pocket the pistol; the suppressor was excellent. But I handed it back to the attendant and joined Lee, who was standing at the edge of the little gathering with a clenched jaw.
As the two of us walked back into the main fray of the ballroom and were lost in the crowd, the weight of stares gradually slipped away. My jaw ticked as I heard the attendant call for more targets to be brought out, but Lee discreetly shouldered me.
“You do know what keeping a low profile means, don’t you?” he said.
“Thought I was here to put down monsters,” I muttered back.
“You’re here to put out fires, not start them. Keep it together.”
I opened my mouth to fire back, but my attention was pulled elsewhere. A cold prickle crept along my spine. After a decade of being the one stalking predators in the shadows, I had learned to sense when someone was tracking my movements. Watchingme.
Lee steered us away from the shooting gallery, and I scanned the crowd.
There—a man. There was nothing particularly unusual about his appearance, but the intensity of his gaze made me repress a shiver. I got the uncanny feeling that he knew me, like I was in the crosshairs of his hunt. A group of women also exiting from the shooting gallery passed between us, obscuring him from view.
“What’s wrong?” Lee asked.
I turned for a second look, but the man was gone.
“I might have been made,” I said, frowning as I scanned for his face.
His face…
I couldn’t remember what he looked like.
“Who am I looking for?” Lee turned from me, well-versed in keeping his mask of idle pleasure in place even as his gaze cooly scanned the crowd.
“I…I’m not sure.”
“What? Did you get a look at him or—”
“I did, but…” My brows pulled together as I worked hard to bring the glimpse back into focus. I’d made fucking eye contact with the guy, hadn’t I? “I don’t know. When I try to picture him, it’s all blurry. Like looking through a dirty lens.”
The way Lee glanced sharply at me, tinged with worry, made me wish I’d said nothing. I knew that look. I’d received that look countless times during my months-long residency atthe psychiatric ward. It was the winning combination of pity simmering withyou might be batshit crazy.
Was he right?Shit.Was this the damage from the spectral plane finally rearing its head?
Lee’s expression melted into indifference, shrugging. “Honestly, it could be any schmuck here thanks to your very inconspicuous target practice back there. Just keep an eye out for any tails.”
