“Because watching a life self-destruct is never supposed to feel good. Unless you’re Cade Richter.”
Or me.
Though I fail to put a voice to it, there’s no denying the surge of power I felt when those snakes flung themselves from my neck to Suriel’s.
No denying the ripple of delight when I watched as they repeatedly sunk their fangs into his flesh.
No denying how those same feelings were connected to the mystical shift occurring within me.
But I keep all of that to myself.
Wrapping an arm around her, we begin the walk back to my truck when we come upon my bloody, injured beast of a brother, who looks at me and says, “You’re supposed to be dead! What the hell did you do?”
I stare at him with changed eyes. A slow grin creeping onto my face when I see the way he cowers away.
He struggles to rise, eager to make an escape, but one swift kick from Daire puts him right back in place. She kneels down beside him, grabs hold of his shirt, and drags him up to her face. And though this is her fight, I still stake a position beside her, in case she should need me.
“I saved your life tonight,” she hisses, practically spitting the words, leaving no doubt just how much she wishes it had been otherwise. “But I only did so to spare Dace. Consider it a one-time pass, Coyote. Next time, you’re dead.”
Her hands shake with rage, and I know she’s tempted to finish him now. But I can’t let that happen. The beast is settling inside me. There’s no guarantee it’ll rise up to save me again.
A flurry of fire engines, police cars, and assorted emergency vehicles begin to arrive in a blur of blaring sirens and flashing lights.
“Daire.” I coax her away from her rage. “Enchantment’s finest are here. Most of who are Richters. It’s time to move on.”
With obvious reluctance, she lets go of Cade. Watching with glaring eyes and grim lips as he scrambles away, disappearing inside the smoldering club.
“You planned that whole thing, didn’t you?” she says, inexplicably transferring her anger from my brother to me. “Suriel, the snakes, all of it—why didn’t you tell me?”
She’s only half interested in the details, the other half is steeped in feeling deceived, and it’s the part I set out to quell first. “It wasn’t nearly as planned or strategic as you think,” I say, urging her toward my truck. Wanting to get as far from the club as we can before the authorities find us, the questions begin, and they find a way to blame us. “I figured Suriel was gearing up for some big reveal, and I knew I wanted to be there. The only reason I didn’t mention it is because I didn’t want you to worry. But, Daire, you need to know that my life was never in jeopardy—getting killed was never a remote possibility.”
She ducks out of my reach. Standing stubbornly in place with an accusing gaze and arms crossed defiantly, she lifts her chin and says, “Are you that righteous?” And though she does her best to commit to her anger, I know she’s fueled more by the fear of almost losing me, after all she went through to find me.
Since she deserves no less than the truth, I meet her gaze and say, “I used to be. I used to be made of the purest white energy. But I think we both know that’s hardly the case anymore.”
She swallows hard, drops her focus to her feet. Seeming to direct the words to the scuffed toe of her shoes when she says, “So why didn’t they bite you? Clearly the venom glands weren’t removed.” She shifts her gaze toward the place where Suriel’s lifeless body lies, now a trampled, pulpy mess thanks to the frantic exodus of the panicked masses.
I place a hand on her arm, steering her away from Suriel’s grisly remains. When I’m sure I have her attention, I say, “Suriel believes in a world of us versus them—where everything exists separately from each other. Whereas I believe in a world of complete and total connection—one where we are all a part of the same, unifying source. Which means I’m as connected to those snakes as I am to you. Thing is, in order for it to work, you have to truly believe it in the deepest part of your soul.”
“So why did Suriel last so long without getting bit?” The determined tilt of her chin tells me she’s not fully convinced.
“Because Suriel’s the hand that feeds them,” I say. “Problem is, he let too much time pass between meals. Those snakes were starving, and they blamed him.”
“Speaking of being connected,” she says, once I have her moving again. “Cade was unable to change.” Her voice quickening along with her pace when she sees our friends waiting next to my truck. “He couldn’t shift past the glowing red eyes, and he didn’t seem to know why. He even tried to blame me, but I’m wondering if maybe you had something to do with it.”
“I didn’t,” I say. “Or at least if I did, it wasn’t deliberate. Weird thing is, while he couldn’t shift, I started to.” The look that meets mine isn’t one bit surprised, so I take
a chance and offer my hand. Pointing out the spot where the small remnant of a talon remains, noting the way her eyes widen as a flurry of soft white feathers drift from my sleeve.
“What is that?” she asks, voice hushed with a combination of awe and uncertainty.
“I don’t know. Something very powerful though.”
“Has it happened before?”
I shake my head in reply.
“Does it worry you?”