Chapter 20
Killer Birds
Fenrir Thorsson
The scent of death hits me before we even reach the tree line—a rancid mix of rotting vegetation and decaying flesh that makes my wolf stir uneasily beneath my skin.
I take another swig from the silver flask of ambrosia, the burning liquid doing little to improve my mood after three fucking days of searching for Astrid.
"By the gods," Cormac mutters beside me, his glamour momentarily flickering as he reacts to the stench.
"Another," I growl, crushing the now-empty silver flask in my fist and extending my hand. The metal groans under the pressure before I shove the crumpled remains into my pocket. Cormac passes me a second flask with a knowing look that I pointedly ignore.
Three days since she vanished from her apartment without a trace.
Three days of Maven hacking into GUIDE's secure servers while I paced like a caged animal, snarling at anyone unfortunate enough to cross my path.
When Maven finally tracked Astrid's new assignment to this godforsaken Louisiana bayou, I was already halfway out the door.
We stand at the edge of what should be a vibrant forest, but instead of teeming life, we face a landscape of death.
Trees that should be draped in Spanish moss now stand blackened and brittle, their branches reaching toward the sky like the fingers of a corpse.
The undergrowth has withered to ash-colored husks, and the swampy water that should pulse with life lies still and oily in stagnant pools.
"Someone used a lot of magick," I say, taking another careful breath through my mouth rather than my nose. My wolf prowls beneath my skin, agitated by both the unnatural decay and our extended separation from Astrid. "Earth's tainted magick."
Cormac nods grimly. "Drained the very life force from this place." He crouches, touching the gray soil with careful fingers.
According to Maven's intel, GUIDE is dispatching a team, Astrid’s team, to investigate unexplained deaths in this area.
"We should have found her sooner," I mutter, crushing the empty flask in my fist. The metal groans under the pressure before I shove it into my pocket. I'm being an ass and I know it, but three days without seeing her has driven both me and my wolf to the edge of reason.
"Maven hacked three government agencies and rerouted satellite surveillance to find her," Cormac reminds me with infuriating patience. "We got here before her team. She will be here soon."
"What are those?" I ask, pointing toward a weird bird-like shadow in the twisted branches of a dead cypress. I've encountered countless magickal creatures, but these seem unfamiliar.
"Maven calls those Harbingers," Cormac explains.
"They're unique to Earth—a product of the tainted magick here.
They appear when large amounts of corrupted energy are used, attracted to the devastation like vultures to a carcass.
They're deadly. If they bite you, you'll die.
Whatever you do, don't antagonize them."
I glance at the shadows in the tree again. Perfect. Deadly fucking birds.
The closest one watches us with gleaming red eyes.
Its form wavers between solidity and smoke, black feathers occasionally dissolving into wispy tendrils before reforming.
As if sensing my attention, it emits a low, discordant croak that sends a chill down my spine.
Predator recognizes predator, and these creatures radiate a hungry patience that makes even my beast uneasy.
My eyes track more of the spectral birds among the dead trees. Five, ten, fifteen—too many to count easily. All watching, waiting.
"They can kill you?"
"Not in that spectral form," Cormac says. "They're observers now, but if provoked..." He trails off, shaking his head. "Their bite is like being eaten from the inside out with fire."
"Does GUIDE know what they are?"
"They’re rare, but GUIDE is resourceful. I would assume they do."
The crunch of tires on gravel in the distance catches my attention. My wolf's hearing picks up the sound of car doors slamming, followed by voices—one of which sends a flutter across the surface of my skin.
The warm sensation of magick beneath my skin hums and trills with excitement like a hummingbird. The tension that's been building in my muscles for three days suddenly releases, replaced by an entirely different kind of tension.
Astrid.
"They're here," I say unnecessarily. Cormac has already begun weaving his glamour around us, the subtle Fae magick settling like a fine mist over our forms.
"Remember," he warns as we move deeper into the dead forest, "my glamour won't hide you from her. Only from the others."
I nod, thinking of how her eyes found mine in the restaurant despite Cormac's magick. Another confirmation that she carries my soul shard, though she doesn't yet understand what that means. Soon, I'll need to tell her the truth about the soul shards and our mate connection.
But not today. Today, we have more immediate concerns.
We position ourselves within earshot of the small clearing where GUIDE vehicles have parked.
Astrid emerges from behind the vehicles first, dressed in tactical gear rather than the civilian clothes she wore at the restaurant.
Her dark hair is pulled back in a severe ponytail, and her expression is all business as she surveys the dead forest. Even from this distance, I can see her nose wrinkle at the smell.
Two rookies follow her. The same ones from the restaurant incident. The male, Sutter, moves with the stiff posture of someone trying too hard to project authority. The female, Mendez, seems more cautious, her gaze methodically scanning their surroundings with practiced precision.
"Jesus," Sutter says, coughing slightly. "What died out here? Smells like something crawled up something else's ass and they both rotted."
"Everything died out here." Astrid’s tone is professional but with an edge of judgement. "People died and that's why we're here."
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry,” Sutter says quickly.
We listen as she begins briefing them on the situation—three local hunters found dead two days ago after venturing into this section of forest. Symptoms included rapid tissue degeneration, accelerated aging, and total system failure within hours of exposure to.
.. something. Local authorities are baffled and GUIDE was called in to investigate possible magickal influence.
"Look at the trees." Mendez points at the blackened trunks. "It's like they were burned, but there's no ash, no fire damage."
"Not fire," Astrid confirms. "Something drained the life force from this entire ecosystem. I need you both to collect samples but do not—I repeat, do not—touch anything with your bare skin. Full hazard protocols."
She's good at this, I realize. Authoritative without being overbearing, clear in her instructions, projecting confidence while still acknowledging the danger.
My wolf rumbles with approval deep in my chest.
The team begins their survey, moving carefully through the dead undergrowth. I notice how Astrid subtly positions herself between her rookies and the areas with the highest concentration of harbingers, though she gives no indication she's noticed the birds specifically.
Then it happens. Mid-sentence while instructing Mendez about sample collection procedures, Astrid's head snaps up, her eyes locking directly with mine. For a heartbeat, we stare at each other across the distance before she deliberately looks away, continuing her instructions.
"She saw you," Cormac whispers beside me, though he sounds more impressed than concerned.
"She always will," I reply softly. The pull between us grows stronger each time we meet, the connection deepening even as she fights against it.
I lean against a dead tree trunk, watching Astrid lead her team through their investigation.
They collect soil samples and scan the area with their GUIDE tech.
My eyes track her movements, cataloging every expression, every gesture.
Three days without seeing her was three days too many.
My wolf rumbles in agreement, mostly content now that she's within our sight again.
The methodical calm of their operation breaks when Sutter starts wandering toward a cluster of dead cypress trees.
My muscles tense as I notice the harbingers perched in the branches directly above him, their red eyes following his every move.
Fucking rookie is about to get himself killed, and he doesn't even know it.
I shift my weight forward, ready to move if necessary, and catch Astrid's head turning in Sutter's direction.
"Agent Mathieson," he calls, pointing upward. "I've got something here."
Astrid looks up sharply, her body language instantly alert. She senses the danger too. "Sutter, move away from those trees. Slowly."
But the rookie either doesn't hear the warning or chooses to ignore it. He raises some kind of scanning device. "I'm getting energy readings off these birds. They're not natural."
"Sutter," Astrid says again, her tone hardening. "That's an order. Back away now."
A growl builds low in my throat. The rookies can't see what they're dealing with.
The harbingers have noticed Sutter's attention, their smoky forms solidifying slightly.
Their red eyes track him like prey. More of the birds materialize on nearby branches, drawn by the rising tension like sharks to blood in the water.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I take a step forward, muscles coiling, ready to leap into the clearing. I won’t let them touch Astrid. Cormac's hand lands heavy on my shoulder, fingers digging in with surprising strength.
"Wait," he murmurs. "Don't break cover unless absolutely necessary."
My wolf disagrees, hackles rising. Astrid is out there. In the open. I shrug off Cormac's hand but remain in place—for now.