CHAPTER SIX
Yael
I watched her disappear from the roof, the blue and purple undertones of her hair reflecting the sun as it blew wild in the wind—as wild as she was.
There was no sense in going after her; I’d made my point, and we both knew it.
If she needed to feel like she’d ‘won’ by walking away, so be it. I could sacrifice a battle for the war.
Myra was a temperamental creature. I knew that all too well from our brief but illuminating time working together at The Riff Raff.
During that short period, I’d studied her like I’d never studied another before.
Her tells. Her triggers—of which there were many.
Her moods, which seemed to swing with the ebb and flow of the tides.
And even after all that observation, she still never ceased to surprise me.
Loose cannons—and that was exactly what she was—were difficult variables to control even if you understood them well, which left little room for error in our joint endeavor.
The fact that she wanted no part of it only complicated things further, especially since she didn’t believe I would make good on our bargain in the end.
But I’d meant what I said; I would send her home when it was all over.
I was, at minimum, a man of my word, despite her feelings about me.
And I had my own feelings about her.
That abrasive personality could bait me like no other, and it would require my utmost focus to keep our collaboration on task.
It was so easy to give in to the banter—the verbal sparring—the high of going toe to toe with someone whose wit was equally weaponized.
It was as refreshing as it was intoxicating, and if I were being honest with myself, I’d missed it in my absence.
Given her cold reception, it appeared I was alone in that sentiment, not that it mattered.
I’d returned to use her gift to find Jemma. That was all that really mattered.
It had been many weeks since I’d last seen my sister; since the last time we’d spoken.
This wasn’t the first time she’d done this—disappeared, only to return when she needed me—but this time was different.
She hadn’t been to her usual haunts, and none of her friends had seen her.
Every instinct in my body told me she was still alive, but those instincts had proven fruitless when it came to actually finding her.
Weeks had passed, and any initial leads I’d had had long since grown cold, which was exactly why I needed Myra.
Her Siren’s Song ability could force the truth from the minds of both the unwilling and the unable, allowing me to pick up Jemma’s trail and learn her fate.
I prayed there was still time to change it.
Where my fae abilities were connected to the earth and the life that sprang forth from it, Jemma’s power revolved around darkness and death, and the circumstances in which we’d grown up had only dragged her down further into the bowels of her magic, holding her hostage in the fringes with the other nefarious miscreants supernatural society boasted.
It had only taken one time to sully her—for her to be overtaken by the evil she could wield.
Even back then, I could see how dark her fate would become, but it had not come swiftly.
It took years for that evil to eviscerate her into a ruined thing I no longer recognized.
I’d dedicated my life to keeping her safe, and I’d failed.
But if I could get her back—if I could have one last chance—I knew I could fix things.
I just needed to find her.