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“Interesting.”

No harmony follows the word this time, and my hellhound pushes hard beneath my skin, ready for another round if she so much as fucking tries.

I move back to Echo and take her hand. Her fingers close around mine immediately, and our fingers lock. That familiar pull between us comes alive, stronger with both of us still running hot from the fight against Thessaly’s song. Echo’s power shakes through the connection, mine answering before I even think about it, and I pull her closer as the water around our boots suddenly changes direction.

It stops running downhill. A stream curling past my boot shudders, reverses, and races back toward Thessaly.

What the fuck?

More follows. Water peels itself out of the gravel in long streams, dragging free of dirt and grass before lifting into the air. The puddles around Raze’s boots ripple hard enough to splash his jeans, then tear away from him completely. Water pours from Sentinel’s feathers, from Maul’s clothes, from every soaked patch of ground around us, all of it rushing back toward the woman standing near the tree line.

“Back up,” Raze orders.

Nobody needs telling twice.

Boots grind over wet gravel as the brothers spread out, but Echo stays beside me, her fingers locked around mine while the water gathers behind Thessaly.

Higher.

Wider.

Fucking impossible.

It climbs past the trees behind her, thousands of gallons hanging in the air without anything holding it there. Waves roll through the suspended mass, crashing against themselves with a deep roar that I feel through the soles of my boots. Mist spits off the top and whips across the yard, carrying enough salt to sting my eyes.

My hellhound surges beneath my skin. This time, there’s no fucking peace in him. He wants Echo away from that water.

So do I.

I pull her behind me just as the wall swells forward.

Sentinel’s wings snap wide. Maul swears. Somewhere behind me, Ruckus yells, “What the actual fuck?”

Thessaly doesn’t even flinch. She stands beneath enough seawater to wipe out everything between the gates and the clubhouse, her gray hair barely moving while the wall rolls and churns behind her.

Then her eyes find Echo over my shoulder. Something passes between them, and Echo’s hand tightens around mine.

Thessaly smiles, the gesture making her look like something evil incarnate. “Until next time.” Her hand lifts, and the water fucking drops.

The roar hits first, and I barely turn before the wall slams into us. My arm hooks around Echo’s waist, and I pull her against my chest as I plant my boots, throwing my body around hers. Freezing water crashes across my back hard enough to drive me forward a step, then another, my boots carving through gravel while Echo’s hands fist against my stomach.

Brothers shout around us. Something metallic goes skidding across the yard. Sentinel’s wings beat once with a crack of displaced air as Raze grabs Calder and Wreck catches Ruckus before the bastard goes down.

Water keeps coming. It pounds against my shoulders, pours over my head, fills my ears until the whole fucking world becomes cold, noise, and the woman I’m holding against my chest.

My hellhound digs in—so do I.

Then, as fast as it hit, the pressure disappears.

Water rushes around my boots toward the lower end of the yard. I drag in a breath and straighten, keeping one arm around Echo while I wipe the other across my face.

“You good?” she gasps.

I twist enough to look at her. My hand slides to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her wet hair as I pull her in until her breath catches against my lips. I press my forehead to hers, holding her gaze long enough to make damn sure she understands everything I can’t fucking say. Then I look toward the tree line, and my body goes rigid.

Thessaly is fucking gone.

No footsteps disappearing between the trees. No figure moving through the mist. Nothing except water dripping from branches and several pissed-off supernatural bikers standing ankle-deep in seawater in the middle of the New Hampshire mountains.