Page 28
Suddenly, a branch cracks behind me.
I’m on my feet before I think about moving, a blade ripped from my boot as I spin toward the sound, my arm already coming up with enough force behind it to bury steel in whoever thought creeping up behind me was a good-fucking-idea.
The throw dies in my hand as I see a man standing at the edge of the clearing, far enough back that he could have stayed hidden among the trees if he wanted to. Both hands hang loose at his sides, his stance easy, and there’s no weapon pointed at me or sudden move to close the distance. He simply watches, completely unbothered by the fact I’ve got a blade lined up with the center of his chest.
That’s the only reason I don’t hurl it at the fucker.
I keep my arm raised as I take him in, searching for anything that tells me what I’m dealing with. The black leather cut over his shoulders has seen some years. The patches across it are unfamiliar, but nothing about the way he wears it makes me think it’s a costume. Whoever he is, that leather belongs on him.
Then the daylight catches his eyes. My fingers tighten around the knife as his pupils narrow right in front of me, the change slow enough that I watch roundness give way to thin vertical slits surrounded by gold.
Not human.
Definitely not-fucking-human.
His gaze drops to my hand, just for a second. When it comes back to my face, one corner of his mouth shifts like my grip tightening told him something useful.
Great.
So, he’s paying attention.
The song tucked behind my teeth stirs as he tips his head slightly, the movement slow, almost too controlled, and every instinct I’ve spent twelve years trusting starts scratching at the inside of my skin.
There’s something old standing across this clearing from me.
Something powerful.
And whatever the fuck he is, having a knife aimed at his heart hasn’t raised his pulse enough for me to see it beating in his throat.
Mine is trying to punch its way out.
I adjust my footing, giving myself a better angle if this goes bad, and keep the blade exactly where it is. “You planning on standing there staring all night?”
His mouth finally moves. “Depends.” His voice carries easily across the clearing. “You planning on throwing that thing?”
I tighten my grip. “Depends.”
“You’re a long way from the eastern line, Siren.” His voice stays low, almost casual, but the song behind my teeth pulls tight anyway. Nothing about the man standing across from me says I should lower the fucking knife.
“I felt the roar,” I say, because lying to a man who already knows what I am seems like a waste of both our time. “Followed it. That’s all.”
His eyes move past me to the glowing fracture in the ground. “That’s all?”
“Pretty much.”
“You hear something powerful enough to drag you all the way out here, find this shit waiting for you, and your first thought is to get closer?”
I glance back at the thin line of light still pushing through the dirt. “I was curious.”
“Curious?”
“You always repeat everything people say?”
The corner of his mouth pulls up. “Only when they say stupid shit.”
My knife stays pointed at him. “Careful.”
His gaze drops to the blade before slowly coming back to mine. “You’re the one standing over a supernatural fracture you know fuck all about.”
