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Belle was running through a House of Mirrors, a maze of dark corridors, crashing into people instead of glass walls, her frenetic hands leaving a trail of yelps and cries in their wake.
“What the—! Someone’s got a taser!”
“Hey, where’d you get those sparkler fireworks?”
“Owww!”
In her panicked flight, she ignored them, but she couldn’t shut out the questions about Liam and the Jäger that flashed in her mind. One question stood out above the rest and drove her to move faster: how long did she have to live before the Jäger found her like he’d promised?
She burst out a side door of a small kitchen and felt the instant shock of the frosty night air against her heated skin. She was standing in an area that appeared to be under construction and cordoned off with a Do Not Trespass sign.
Perfect. That’s where she’d go.
She slipped beneath the thin orange rope and ventured carefully past the unfinished framework of what looked like an enormous shed. Just beyond, she could make out another longer building, its walls somehow reflecting the moonlight.
A greenhouse! She rushed toward it, drawn by the idea of having only plants for company. She bet she could hide in there long enough to call Ernesto before the Jäger got to her. It was already way past the countdown, and he still hadn’t found her. She knew it was a wafer-thin hope, but she had to get her mind on happy thinking or her firecracker hands would never quit.
The glass door eased open without a sound, and a rush of wet warmth washed over her chilled skin as she stepped in. The sides were stacked high with shelves of flowering plants, as was a long narrow table that ran down the middle of the entire length of the building.
She closed the door behind her. Walking down the right side of the room, the subtle taps of her heels sounded against the earthen-tiled floor. The only light came from the moon’s filtered glow through the glass panes and the crackling sparks that erupted at intervals from her hands like frayed live wires.
She reached the end of the room and decided to hide in a corner, behind a cluster of tall potted plants and stacks of soil bags. Sitting on an overturned pot, she huddled into herself, her palms outstretched as if in divine petition, and let her head fall into the crooks of her elbows.
The heat in the greenhouse felt oppressive now. It settled over her skin like a heavy blanket. Perspiration dripped over her, and her hair clung to her neck and shoulders like cobwebs.
“Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts,” she chanted to herself.
“Because...I can’t, Belle.”
The air smelled like it was burning. The power in her hands alternating between electricity and fire.
“Happy thoughts, happy thoughts,” she said desperately.
“Alright, sweetie. You know you can call me anytime.”
Fire erupted in her hands.
She tumbled back from her seat, huddling further into the dark, dank corner, trying to distance herself from her own raging hands while keeping them away from the plants.
Nothing would call more attention to her like burning down a building.
They all deserved to die. The Jäger got in the way.
“No!” she shouted. She had to clear her head, empty it out. One way she knew how was by counting, a relaxation exercise Papa had taught her as a little girl to control her tantrums.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
At forty-two, she stopped. She’d heard a noise. A click.
She held her breath and waited, watched on a nearby plant’s frond as a black beetle scurried toward a quivering helpless cocoon and sunk its pincers into it, tearing at it, ensuring that moth or butterfly never saw the light of day.
She tore her eyes away, the symbolism not lost on her.
There had been no other sound since, except the pounding of her heart and the thumping base of the house music in the distance. She let herself draw in a long, damp breath, the tumult in her hands finally easing.
Next step in her plan: she dragged her phone out from her back pocket.
“Fudge,” she cried in a whisper. The lifeless, cracked screen stared back at her. She’d zapped her own phone to death.
And then, Belle heard it. Soft footfalls. If she hadn’t developed freakishly sensitive hearing lately, she would have missed it.
Only one person could tread in cat-like silence.
The realization turned her insides into ice, petrifying her like a gazelle caught in a tiger’s path. This was it. She could flee or hide like a frightened coward and be caught, or she could take a stand somehow and fight back.
So then, she’d have to stand. Literally. She couldn’t let herself be caught helplessly balled up in a mucky corner.
She scrambled onto her wooden legs, peeling off her gold high heels first, and edged around the potted plant. She clenched each heel in her hand like a weapon, not sure how she’d wield them exactly, but maybe those glowing eyes could serve as two bullseyes for the pointy ends of these shoes.
Shame pinched her conscience at the violence she’d just pictured. This wasn’t her.
But what could she do? The Jäger hadn’t been hurt by her electrical blast, so she couldn’t use that power to defend herself with.
Her eyes swept the greenhouse, made eerily monochrome by the moonlight, searching for any inspiration for a defense plan.
I like your plan. Plunge the heels into his eyes.
The Jäger stepped into her line of sight.
Time slowed as he stalked the length of the aisle towards her, his unnatural eyes burning with malicious intent.
Terror wracked her body. Her skin was ice cold, yet sweating bullets.
What can I do? What can I do?!
What she knew of this Jäger flashed in her mind: he’d saved her from the twins in the alley, and then hadn’t kill her; he’d stopped her from zapping a room full of people, and then commanded them to forget what had just happened....
The realization slammed into her. Could he control people’s minds? He’d needed them to look at him. Oh, geez, this was going to be like fighting Medusa—she’d have to close her eyes!
She ordered her eyes to shut, but they disobeyed and remained peeled wide open, trained on the Jäger, who’d paused with half the distance of the greenhouse still stretching between them.
He opened his hand at his side, and Belle’s knees almost buckled as she watched a golden shimmer issue from his hand and materialize into a dagger. He wrapped his fingers over the handle as it solidified.
Yep, that was real. And he was definitely here to kill her.
Now would be a good time to get her hands to spark some defense. She gave her hands a shake, mentally commanding her powers to work, but she only managed to make her palms sweat even more, and she wasn’t sure if that response came from her or the sight of the Jäger twirling the dagger in his hand. She couldn’t even get her sandpaper throat to gulp in fear.
It was so quick, just a mere flicker of his wrist. The Jäger’s dagger sliced the air by her ear, and she jumped at the sound of the blade sticking in the wall behind her.
Her breaths came out in short bursts as she stared at him in horror.
He opened his hand, and the dagger behind her dematerialized into a golden shimmer. She watched, transfixed, as the trail of shimmer flowed past her into his waiting palm. He closed his hand again as it reformed into a solid dagger.
Holy crap. He could have an arsenal at his disposal if that’s how he wielded weapons.
He gestured toward her hands. “Your turn, luv.”
Right. The British Jäger.
Her hands flared with electricity, and she sucked in a breath of relief. They’d decided to work after all. Good timing.
Finally able to swallow and loosen her throat, she found her voice. “Y-You want me to attack you?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“I don’t want to die.”
“Siren...” he cooed. “You know you have to try a little harder to stop me from completing my mission.”
“Siren?”
“You know, siren—a devastatingly gorgeous and enchanting creature who lures men away from their missions to their doom. It’s the only explanation for what you do to me. Or are you unfamiliar with the so-called mythological monsters of our world?”
Thunderstruck by both the compliment and the insult, she tripped over her words as she spoke, “I am not a siren doing anything to you. I’m just me.” She showed her trembling hands, still grasping the heels. “With a few quirks, give or take. And I just want to be left alone. I don’t mean anybody any harm or trouble. I’m not a m-monster; they’re not even real. They’re just what you said: mythological.”
“Oh, siren. They’re all real.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t lie, luv. Can’t.”
A vision cropped up of a hairy monstrous hand reaching up from underneath her bed and wrapping clawed fingers around her ankle. “Well, then,” she said in a small voice, “I’ll never sleep at night now.”
He let out a soft chuckle, and then straightened. “Let’s have it, luv. Blast me. You get the first crack.”
“Just let me go.” She stepped to her right, and his eyes followed. She tensed.
He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
“I see you need some triggering. How about we call that boyfriend of yours, yeah? Find out why he’s stopped talking to you. Does he know your secret?”
“Stop. Please.”
“Scared him off, did you?” Anger shook his voice now. “How many people has he told about you? How far does your mess really spread?”
“Stop it!” She threw her hands up and a bolt of electricity, followed by a pair of heels, flew at him.
The shoes bounced pitifully off his chest. But the bolt...he’d caught it. Like something out of a movie, he’d caught the thing. With his hand open, the bolt curled in on itself like a lazy cat spinning in its spot, receding into him as if he were a giant, black sponge.
Belle’s jaw dropped. This guy defied the laws of physics.
“That’s all you’ve got?” he taunted.
She wasn’t even trying to hit him. The bolt had just shot out on its own. But he didn’t need to know that.
“I’ve got more,” she threw out lamely.
“Why don’t you come at me with the lightning storm you unleashed on those kids back there, yeah? You know, the ones you almost slaughtered.”
“I-I didn’t want to do that. I lost control.”
“You lost control,” he repeated, his tone making her feel small. “A few schoolyard bullies poke at you, and you almost level the entire compound.”
“What? I-That was not—”
“Not going to happen? I know exactly the magnitude of that blast. You would have taken out every person in that house. Your friends? All dead.”
His words speared her. He didn’t need a glittering dagger to bring her down. His cruel truth was doing it all on its own. She pictured Candy and Millie’s charred, dead bodies littered among blackened corpses.
Don’t listen to the cretin.
The Jäger cocked his head and whispered ominously, “There it is.”
“Kill me,” Belle whimpered. “I’m...I’m a menace to everyone around me.” Her whole body trembled as the electricity sparked into orbs that encased her hands. “Papa kept me locked up in the house, my aunt didn’t claim me until she had to, three people are dead because of me....” A sob caught in her throat. “It all makes sense now.”
Kill him! Blast him with everything you have!
“Let it out, luv.” His tone was softer.
“If it wasn’t for you, my friends and all those people would be dead just because, just because I can’t control myself.” The wetness that had gathered in her eyes spilled over.
Pathetic weakling.... Let me out. I’ll take him.
She paused as understanding dawned on her. “Oh.”
Belle thought the Jäger was encouraging her to let her emotions out, rile herself up for a fight. But he wanted her to let it out. The voice. The creature that writhed now against the back of her mind, restless in its cage.
Through blurry eyes, she peered down at her hands, the electricity running the length of her arms now. She asked in an agonized whisper, “What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing I can’t fix, siren.” And there was no malice in those words, only a lifeline.
He’ll fix nothing! Let. Me. OUT!
“Help me,” Belle mouthed. The electricity crawled over her shoulders now and down her body like a freshly escaped entity exploring its new surroundings.
The Jäger stood less than ten feet away, an imposing sentinel of darkness with a fierce, unwavering glow in his golden eyes. She was ensnared in that penetrating stare, as if he was seeing right through her, pinning the creature in place.
He gave a small nod of encouragement. “Close your eyes.”
Putting her faith in her assassin, Belle closed her eyes.
The Jäger said something in a foreign language, and like a light switch being flipped, her mind went dark. Something—her spirit, her conscience—was still awake, but she felt the creature push past it and open her eyes for her.
She sucked in a breath as if it were her first. She zeroed in on the Jäger and glared, her mouth curling up into a sneer. “How did you know, Jäger?” It spoke in Belle’s voice but slurred the ends of the words like a snake.
“I heard you inside the girl’s mind, goading her to kill the others. Now, tell me your name, demon.” The Jäger’s tone brooked no room for refusal.
“I have no name.” She slinked toward him. “I am just a shadow of my master.”
“Not a step further, or you will taste the end of this blade.”
She hissed at him but remained rooted to her spot.
“Tell me your master’s name.”
She struggled to keep her mouth shut, but the more she resisted, the more a painful burn spread beneath her skin. The only relief was in obeying him. “Infernal Jäger.” She spat at him. “Violet Wickeby.”
He recoiled in surprise. “Violet Wickeby? Tell me what she wants with the girl.”
“To wear her, of course.”
“Why this girl?”
The demon was silent.
“Tell me.”
She gave a mock-sigh. “Isn’t it obvious?” She ran her hands along her sides to her hips. “Young, beautiful, powerful....”
“Remove your hands, you fiend,” he snarled.
A raucous cackle filled the air. “You want her for yourself. Who’s the fiend now?”
He was in her face in an instant, dragging the tip of the dagger down her cheek, leaving a trail that felt like fire.
She screamed.
“Tell me how you ended up inside Belle.”
She breathed hard now, recovering from the acidic sting of the magical blade. When she didn’t answer, he pressed the tip against her chin. Feeling the flesh was going to melt off there, she jerked her chin away and gasped out, “The girl. She doesn’t know it. Not even Violet knows.” The Jäger stepped back, giving her more breathing room. “But I know.”
“Go on.”
She gritted her teeth before continuing, “Weeks ago, the girl lost control in front of Violet. Killed everyone in her family. Violet took possession of her then, and then those odious creatures—”
“What creatures? Tell me.”
She grimaced. “The Fae.”
“What did the Fae do?”
She paused. Knowing the Jäger was hooked, one side of her lips curled. “Let’s make a bargain, and I will tell you anything you want to know.”
The Jäger moved in one strike, and she screamed again, crumpling to the floor.
He’d stabbed her in the thigh.
“You are in no position to bargain, demon. On your feet. Now.”
She scrambled clumsily to her feet, leaning on her good leg as she stood. The pain in her injured thigh was blinding. “You don’t care that you’re hurting the girl? Where is the famous Jäger compassion for these pitiful humans?”
“I am not hurting her, I’m hurting you. Stop stalling and tell me what the Fae did to Belle.”
The need to obey burned hotter than her thigh now. “They rewound time. She was warned not to reveal her powers to Violet, and the memory of the Fae’s intervention was sealed away in her mind.” Her tone took on a taunting edge. “You know how to access that memory, Jäger, but you’d have to break your prophecy to do it.”
He ignored the bait. “Tell me why you’re still inside her.”
“They couldn’t get all of Violet out for their do-over.”
“Tell me why the Fae intervened for Belle.”
“I’ll only say this: Dommedag won’t happen without her.”
“What do you mean? Explain.”
“No. We want Dommedag, and you can’t stop it.” She bared her teeth, and the electricity snaking all over her body ballooned out into a sphere that encased her and the Jäger. “Maybe you won’t damage this body, but I will!”
The Jäger lunged for her, dagger ready, and she let out an ear-splitting shriek as she threw her arms out. The giant electrical orb inflated until it blasted out of the greenhouse. Glass shattered all around them, raining down a tinkling storm of jagged shards.
The Jäger held Belle’s body cradled against his own, her head tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, shielding her from the glass rain. He cursed under his breath when a two-inch piece of glass stuck into her exposed left forearm. He picked out the glass and wrapped his hand tightly over the wound to staunch the flow of blood.
Belle opened her eyes and gasped at the yellow orbs glowing mere inches from her face. Holding her against him, the Jäger had one arm wrapped around her waist. His other hand held something cold and heavy against her chest, right over her heart.
Looking down at herself, her eyes widened.
His hand was wrapped around the handle of the dagger, its blade buried in her chest. She felt the solid cold mass inside her, but there was no pain, no blood.
Swiftly, he pulled the dagger out and her chest contracted.
“Easy, siren. You’re alright now.”
Her eyes found his. “Is the creature...gone?”
He nodded slowly.
“I’m so tired,” she whispered, her eyelids suddenly weighing a ton.
She felt herself sinking into his arms, one still around her waist, and the other hand cradling the side of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek. She leaned her face into that warm hand and felt herself fade away into the black abyss of unconsciousness.