Halen rushed to check on Dax. As much as she hated him, a gold arrow would be a death sentence for both of them. If she didn't have magick to fight, then all would be lost. Like a lion protecting its kill from the rest of the hungry pack, she dragged him through the kitchen into the laundry room. When she tucked a towel under his head, he released a rushed breath.

She jumped back. "Dax? Are you awake?" She poked him with the tip of her sneaker, but he didn't budge. "Can you hear me?" She nudged harder, but he lay still as stone. "Well, just in case you wake up, I can't have you roaming around." She shut the laundry room door, then wedged a chair up against the handle. She had seen this trick in a movie but had no clue if it worked. So, just to be sure, she slid over all three bar stools, creating a barricade against the door. Her fortress might contain Dax, but it wouldn't protect him from the Hunters.

"Ugh. Why did you trust them, Nat?" She couldn't believe her sister banded with killers. "What kind of lies did they feed you?" A terrible thought crossed her mind. What if Asair and Natalie had died at the hands of the Hunters, too? No. She shook her head. She couldn't think this way. Jae would have protected them. She was a powerful dragon. But how would they find her if she was on the run?

Halen checked the oven clock; too long until she met with Peter. She could blow the storage locker door open with magick, but if the Hunters were already in Rockaway, then it would draw them right to her. She had no choice but to wait.

She headed upstairs to her mom's room, where she opened the computer, hoping she had left more clues. Scanning the pictures, tears choked her when she stopped on one. Halen remembered this day well; her father was supposed to visit, but of course, he was a no-show. But her mom, like always, had made the best of the day. They had folded newspaper pages into little boats to float down the canal until the night sky had bloomed with stars. Her mom had pointed out the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper while their paper armadas floated out to sea. It had been a simple day—a day she would give anything to repeat.

She checked the time again. Peter wouldn't be off yet. "It doesn't hurt to be early." She headed down the stairs. Besides, she could scope out the RV park before Peter arrived. If Hunters were in the area, then she wouldn't allow Peter to be caught in the crossfire. He had suffered enough.

Halen slid on her parka and tucked the elixir in her pocket, just in case. She should take the coral and bone beforehand, but she didn't want to waste a single drop if a threat didn't present itself. She double-checked the stool barricade, leaned her ear to the door to listen for movement, and when all seemed well, she set the alarm and headed out. Checking both ways, she searched for signs of Hunters. Not that they would hide. There was nothing subtle about the pack of immortals. If they were here, she would know, or she would be dead already.

* * *

She inhaled the crisp, salt air as the wind brushed her face. The ocean called to her, begging her to come out and play. Being this close to the water—to the driving force of her magick—twisted her inside out. Before the mermaids, before Elosia and the water stone, the ocean simply beat the shore, but now its energy thundered in her chest, rolling with the rhythm of her heart. The last time she traveled down these streets, she was simply Halen Windspeare: messed up student, freak who blacked out in class, girl who sketched the sea. Not that she ever felt normal. But at least she had thought that she was human, that whatever had caused all the horrible things around her to happen, there had been a scientific reason, a cure.

She passed through the gates of the RV park and rested her bike against the new building. Standing beneath the lamp post, she removed the key from her pocket, but the shiny keypad blocked her from entering. Her fingertips enlivened with sparks, daring her to enter on her own. "I can't," she said out loud and laughed at the ridiculousness of talking to her magick. It didn't have a life of its own; it was she who was in control.

And Dax.

He, too, had a magick pass. She wouldn't soon forget how his anger had spun her sparks into a spear to launch at Rania. And how she had retaliated with her mutant army. She couldn't allow him access again. But then again, she didn't know if she had a choice. Hopefully, whatever her mom had left would help her find a way out of this mess. She leaned against the building, tucking her arms around her while scanning the empty RV slips. Tree branches swayed with the rising winds, casting shadows along the concrete and stirring her already frazzled nerves. She hugged herself tighter.

A car entered, and the driver flashed their high beams.

She shielded her eyes as the car parked in the space across from her.

When the purr of the engine died, Peter hopped out and waved. "Hi, looks like it's a good thing I'm early. The boss sent me home after what happened today. He's making me take a few days off."

"I'm really sorry." Poor guy. Visiting his dead girlfriend's storage locker was probably the last place he wanted to be. Yet here he was after a stressful day at work to help her out. Peter was a rock star in her books.

"Hey, it's not your fault. He's probably right, anyway. I should have taken the time off before." He stood by the keypad, removing a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and punched in a code. "Well, let's see what Sarah had for you." The door buzzed when he entered the last digit and yanked it open. "After you." He waved her forward.

Metal-caged lights hung overhead; when Peter flipped the switch, they hummed to life. Halen glanced down the narrow hallway filled with storage lockers. Musty lifejackets, fishing poles, crab traps, and coolers filled the wire lockers. Halen hoped her mom's idea of survival gear wasn't quite so survival-y. She wasn't much of a camper. She peered in a locker filled with colorful kites, then made her way to the next one.

"Over here!" Peter's voice boomed in the hollows of the building. "It's up there." He pointed to the locker above. "Her dad didn't have much to store." He grabbed a ladder and placed it against the bottom locker. "I can go up if you like."

Her mom had gone to great lengths to hide the key and entrust it with only one person. She had to open the locker. "I've got this."

She took one step up but stopped as the pungent scent of damp fur wafted past her nose. Monroe. She sniffed the air, turning back toward Peter. "Were you followed?"

The ping of metal hitting concrete echoed from the next aisle. Sparks trailed her arms.

Peter brought his finger to his lips, motioning for her to be quiet. "I'll check it out." He whispered, glancing nervously over the rims of his glasses.

"I'll go." She snagged his jacket sleeve. No way would she let him get hurt.

A swoosh followed by a rustling shoved her siren senses into overdrive. "Stay here." She held her hand against the air. Halen crept toward the end of the aisle. She felt life on the other side; their shallow breath competing with her rapid heartbeat pounding against her rib cage. Sparks charged along her skin. She rolled her shoulders back, prepared to fight, and stepped into the open.

Her breath hitched when she caught sight of a man. Sand coated his feet, water beaded his muscled chest, and his wide, crystal-clear Elosian eyes cut through her.

"How lucky can I be?" A sly grin played on his lips. "You're the one, aren't you?"

Halen inched back when her shoulders bumped into something hard. Peter's warm breath fell at her neck. As she reached to push him away from danger, he grabbed her arm.

The Elosian man's grin broadened. "Hello, Peter."

Panic ran like a screaming banshee through Halen. She glanced back at Peter and then to the Elosian. Peter's fist clamped tighter. "What are you doing?" Her voice cracked with fear.

"Sarah told me everything before she died. Of course, it took some persuasion." His nails dug into her flesh. "I've been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" Her gaze met with the Elosian. "Did my father send you?"

He laughed, shaking the water from his blond hair. "We're done with your father's games. Rania has promised great rewards for any siren head, but for yours..." His brows quirked up over gleaming eyes. "With you, I will secure a position on the council."

"If you kill me, the portal will open. Tarius will be free. Surely, Rania doesn't want to set a demon loose?"

"The portal won't open. We're taking you to the Hunters. Your soul will remain safe in their arrows while we eradicate the rest of the sirens."

"Rania is not who she seems." She shoved hard against Peter, but he was much stronger than he appeared. Again, she caught a whiff of damp fur. Was Monroe lurking in the shadows, too? Her sparks heated. "Her son was a siren. Did she tell you?"

"And she paid the price for her sin." Reaching for the strap at his waist, he pulled out a dagger; the blade hooked like a sickle, and the metal shone with encrusted diamonds.

A knife? Was he serious? Even with all that bling, he might as well be brandishing a toothpick. She could handle a simple blade.

The Elosian lunged.

Peter shoved her forward, and the blade nicked her palm, sending a fiery pain across her skin. She screamed out as her blood dripped, sizzling on the concrete. "What did you do?" Her gaze darted to the dagger, before landing on the man's satisfied stare.

"Come with me and I won't need to show you the extent of its powers." The Elosian aimed the weapon, ready to strike. "There's no need to suffer. I've heard you're a nice girl."

"You heard wrong." With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a jolt of electricity through the Elosian. He flew back against the door, flinging it open.

The ocean winds whipped through the building, howling with a hollow moan.

"Sarah fought too." Before her eyes, Peter dropped to the ground, falling in what seemed like slow motion as his transition happened so fast, yet so clearly. His shoulders rounded with bristling striped fur; his hands and feet formed padded paws with razor-pointed claws. Whiskers sprouted from his cheeks, his jaw lengthened, his eyes narrowed, and his whole body twisted and shifted until she found herself face-to-face with a beast.

Halen's breath caught. The scent at the bank hadn't belonged to Monroe. "You're Etlin?"

The tiger released a thunderous roar.

"You can't kill this one." The Elosian narrowed the space between them.

Pressed between a blood-boiling dagger and sharp incisors, her magick surged. She struck the tiger first, shoving him away, but he shook away her magick and widened his stance.

The ocean breeze called to her magick, now charging along her skin. She searched the static energy within the wind, beckoning it to her command with a clap of her hands.

The tiger sprang, but she whipped the winds around the feline, drawing him toward the ceiling. He struggled in her grasp, and she fought to hold on. He roared with his rage, and this, too, called to her sparks. She wound the wind like rope harnessing the energy within; the bindings crisscrossed, digging into his fur. He thrashed against her wind cage, snarling with a fierce growl.

The Elosian darted for the open door and her sparks enlivened with a new, twisted energy, one that craved revenge.

Let him go. Her mother's voice rang through her mind.

Kill him. Dax's voice sang louder.

She flinched at the sound of his voice.

If you let him go, others will follow. Dax coaxed her magick to her hands. Curling her fingers inward, she slammed the door shut before the Elosian crossed the threshold.

"Please!" He pounded on the metal door.

With a wave of her hand, she captured his weapon; the blade hung in midair, the tip aimed at his muscled chest. His frantic heartbeat called to her from the dark side of her seam.

Do it, Dax whispered.

Traveling in unchartered waters with Dax at the helm, she couldn't resist the temptation—she didn't even try.

With the tip of the blade, she drew the metal across his chest. Blood bubbled from his skin. He wailed with agony and his cries fueled her sparks. With a flick of her fingers, she thrust him back and continued carving her message.

"Please, let me go." Tears rolled down his cheeks.

The tiger roared, igniting a fresh wave of sparks. Shaking her fist, the bindings tightened. The tiger pawed the wind ropes, trying to shred his way out. Her force was stronger. She clenched her fist tight, her nails digging into her flesh, but she did not stop until the tiger was silenced.

This is not the way. The whispered voice of her mom swarmed her.

"They'll kill me." Halen swatted her voice away. "Death is the only way."

Her mother's voice persisted. Tarius craves rage—resist.

Her gaze darted to the Elosian. Blood tears dripped down his cheeks as he squirmed beneath the poised dagger.

You are stronger than this. Remember who you are.

Halen's chest ached with her words. She released her fist at once. The tiger plunged to the concrete, his coppery stare void of life. She knelt, grabbing his fur in her fists.

"What have I done?" Her thoughts flashed with Dax, a rifle propped on his shoulder, aimed at Wolfe. She drew back, inhaling sharply. Had he captured her magick?

"You're all demons," the Elosian shouted.

How could she argue otherwise with a dead shifter at her feet? She blew out, releasing the last of her sparks, and the door flew open.

The Elosian bolted. The bloodied dagger dropped, landing with a ringing clang. Choking back the regret, she tore her gaze from the dead shifter and studied her hands, which were now a blackish-blue tinge from the dark magick she had cast. Her head grew light, swimming with Peter's death and how easily her magick had stolen his breath.

She glanced once more at the boy whose life she had taken. She couldn't just leave him, but she didn't have time to move him, either. The look of disdain in the Elosian man's eyes meant he would return—and not alone. Despite her remorse, the need to survive was stronger. She had to collect whatever Sarah Winters hid for her and get the hell out before more trouble arrived.

She ran, stopping at the locker. As she grasped the ladder, her hands shook, her feet unable to lift to the first step. She fumbled, unscrewing the vial of elixir from her pocket. She downed the coral and bone, sipping every drop until her sparks awakened. Though thankful for the boost, this energy scared her. If more Elosians arrived, would the darkness drive her to kill them, too? Her unconscious Guardian had too much control. She needed to get home and get the hell out of Rockaway before anyone else got hurt.

Using her mom's key, she unfastened the lock and opened the locker door. Her heart sank. Life jackets and fishing rods mocked her; nothing but a bunch of junk. Halen pinched her eyes tightly as a sharp pain cut across her temple. Her mom's gift had to be somewhere in all this mess—she needed it to be. Digging past the life jackets, she spotted a beat-up cooler; the lid sat askew, the plug missing. As she chucked the cooler aside, it seemed oddly heavy. Prying the lid open, she peeked inside. Her jaw dropped.

She pulled out a thick stack of bills. Several more bands of money lined the inside. Had Sarah and her dad robbed a bank? Thinking that this was not what her mom had left behind for her, she was about to push the cooler aside when a shimmer drew her attention. Beneath the bills, a long wooden box with a shiny brass clasp called to her. When she popped open the box, a smile filled her face. Eighteen vials of elixir lay cradled in royal blue velvet. "Thank you, mom," she whispered under her breath.

Stuffing the money in her pockets, she scanned the locker once more to make certain she hadn't missed anything. With the box tucked under her arm, Halen descended the ladder while keeping an ear out for signs of others. She paused at the door, guilt dragging her thoughts back to Peter. "I'm sorry," she said and pushed through into the chill of the night.

A seagull landed on the lamp post, releasing a high-pitched cry. The bird's stare followed as she made her way to her bike. Not every animal is a shifter. She shook away the sparks rising with her fear.

She hopped on the bicycle, setting the box of elixir in the basket. As she peddled alongside the ocean, she scanned the shadows and waves. With the coral and bone coursing through her veins, she could fight...

But for how long?

And at what price?

She glanced toward the wooden box. A part of her urged her to throw the elixir away, quell the sparks before she killed again, but the other half of her knew there would never be an escape.