“Nonsense. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”
“Not this time. When I found out who I am—what I am—it toppled everything. My plans for the future, my dreams, all of it. The gods will hunt me to the ends of the Earth. And they will threaten everyone I care about. I shouldn’t be making connections. I should be severing them. I should leave to protect you all.”
I caught her by the shoulders. “Bella, stop. No. You’re not leaving. They won’t find out.”
“And if they do?”
“Then I will protect you. We will all protect you.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “Leda—”
I wiped them away. “Promise me you won’t leave.”
Bella met my eyes. “I promise.”
“Good,” I said, nodding. “Now I won’t have to tie you up.”
Bella laughed. It was nice to see the wall of her fear and frustration burst.
“I’m glad you’re my sister,” she told me.
“Of course you are,” I said, smirking. “I’m awesome.”
She laughed again.
“I’m glad you’re my sister too,” I told her.
We turned to watch Calli take aim again.
“She’s on her last shot,” I said.
“She’s still facing away from the target.”
“She’ll make it.”
Calli lifted the gun. Then she quickly pivoted around and fired at the target board.
As her shot hit the bullseye, all the game stands around us blew up, the force of the explosion throwing me and Bella in opposite directions.
5
A Dubious Superpower
I opened my eyes, pushing the burning debris off my body. The festival was in ruins. The stands were broken, the wooden beams split, cracked, or on fire. Broken wood chips covered everything. People lay on the ground, moaning.
As I rose to my feet, pain blossomed all across my body. The hard fall of the explosion throwing me backwards had left me bruised. My top was stained with blood. A sharp piece of wood protruded from my side like a stake. I gritted my teeth, grabbed on to the piece of wood, and yanked it out. Dizzy, I swayed to the side but managed to stay on my feet. Thanks to the gods’ gifts of magic, my body could take a rough beating before it gave out—not to mention, I was no stranger to pain. I’d had much worse in my time at the Legion.
I looked for my family and anyone else I could help. As far as I could see, no one appeared dead. But they needed healing. I reached for the tiny emergency potion vials I kept in my belt.
As I was leaning over the first victim, I picked up the hint of a sound. And it was growing louder. I could hear them walking, the scrape of their thick boot soles against the cobbled road, the rough rasp of their breathing. There were six of them. And they were sneaking up on me.
The wind changed direction, and I smelled metal and gunpowder, the kind used for fireworks. The explosion had been caused by these new arrivals; I was sure of it.
There was something more, the scent of sweat, thick and harsh. Werewolves. I rose in my knees, facing them. There were six men, and they looked just how they smelled—wild, rugged, and untamed. A combination of denim and leather, of a cowboy posse and a motorcycle gang, they looked like the type of Frontier outlaws the festival visitors came here to gawk at.
The six bulky guys weren’t part of the entertainment, however; they were mercenaries. There was no missing that distinctive hired-gun look in their eyes, in the way that they moved. They were trouble, plain and simple. Add in their werewolf magic, and that meant double trouble.
They hadn’t shifted into beasts. They didn’t have to. They were very strong in human form, and I was horribly outnumbered.
But I had the element of surprise on my side. When they looked at me, their gazes were dismissive. They didn’t see me as a threat. I wasn’t in uniform, so they didn’t know I was a soldier in the Legion of Angels. They didn’t know I’d wrestled their kind before.
The werewolves walked under a canopy of decorative lights. The explosion had left the strands of flickering bulbs in a twist. The lights hissed and zapped over the chime and jingle of the carousel music. The festival site was in ruins, but that eerie carnival melody continued to play, as though possessed by a dark spirit.
“What are you?” gasped the werewolf with the big belt, his voice distant. His eyes were wide, locked on my hair.
My hair had only ever mesmerized humans and vampires before. Now here it was bewitching a werewolf.
My hair was not mundane, and it never had been, even when I’d had no real magic. And the stronger my magic grew, the more it enthralled people. I had no idea why it did that. I’d never heard of anyone with glowing hair. The ability to make vampires—and now werewolves—want to bite me was apparently my special superpower. Lucky me.
“She’s a woman,” another mercenary told Big Belt, giving him a hard slap on the back. “Haven’t you seen one of those before?”
Big Belt blinked, snapping out of the trance. His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
“Stop fooling around,” said the biggest of the bunch, the flickering overhead lights dancing across his perfectly bald scalp. “She’s just the right type.” His eyes scanned me, dissecting my features one by one. “A bit old, but otherwise the right type. Bag her.”
The right type? For what?
Slap Happy didn’t give me much time to contemplate those questions. He was already closing in, his tree-trunk arms ready to grab me. The rest stood back and watched with cool detachment. Honestly, I’d have preferred at least two or three of the mercenaries to come at me. That would have allowed me to play them off one another, but I’d make do with what I had.
“What are you doing?” I asked, infusing my voice with panic. I backed up slowly.
Slap Happy’s response was to lunge at me with a pair of handcuffs. I stepped aside and he stumbled past me.
“She’s fast,” he commented, glancing at the other mercenaries.
“You’re just slow,” I said, evading him again.
He tottered past me, and his hands bumped into a building. He turned away from the house, addressing me this time, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“If I’m more trouble than I’m worth, then why don’t you just leave me be?”
“No can do, darling. I’ve got orders.”
“What orders?”
He grabbed at me, moving fast. But I was faster.
“Stop moving, you annoying girl,” he grumbled.
“If you’re annoyed now, just wait and see how annoying I’ll be if you capture me,” I said proudly to him. “Hours and hours of me talking. Nonstop.” I flashed him a grin.
He paused, looking like he was contemplating that. And he didn’t like the thought of it at all.
“Just bag her already,” Big and Bald told him.
Slap Happy didn’t respond. He didn’t move. I’d compelled him, locking him inside my siren magic.
Big and Bald pushed past his frozen comrade, moving to subdue me. Slap Happy swiveled around and jumped in front of me, shielding me with his body.
“What the hell are you doing?! Get out of the way!” Big and Bald shouted, shoving him aside.
Slap Happy caught his hands, heaved him over his head, and launched him across the street.
“He’s been bewitched!” Big and Bald told the others, jumping off the pile of overturned trash cans. He pointed an accusatory finger at me. “She bewitched him.”
“Not bewitched, but compelled. Not a witch but a siren,” said the werewolf with the icy blue eyes.
The mercenaries were holding back, keeping their distance from me now. Sirens had an unsavory reputation of putting people under their spell by shattering their willpower. Werewolves didn’t like the idea of weakness. In fact, most of them refused to acknowledge that they had any.
Big and Bald waved them forward. Slow and cautious, they surrounded me from all sides at once.
“Don’t look at her,” he told them. “That’s how she put Gavin under her spell.”
“Sirens don’t just take control of your mind,” Icy Blue said. “If you make eye contact with them, they can turn you to stone.”