“How long are we supposed to sit out here babysitting her?” Tristin grumbled to Quinn, staring at the back of Ember’s head.

“Be nice, Dagger,” Quinn admonished, looking at Ember and wincing.

“What do you mean, be nice? I’ve been nice. We’ve been out here for hours while she paints sad clowns or whatever the hell she’s doing over there,” Tristin griped.

Quinn wrinkled his forehead, frowning with his eyebrows. “You are seriously evil. She’s grieving. She just wants to know Mace’s okay, so she can move on once and for all.”

“Please, she knew him for what? Three weeks? This isn’t a Disney movie. There’s no such thing as love at first sight.”

Quinn’s gaze was heated. “We can’t all just bury our feelings for other people. She cared about him. They shared something intense. You don’t get to dictate everybody’s feelings, Tristin. Just your own.”

She tried not to flinch at the harshness of his words. She kept her expression apathetic, hoping Quinn didn’t see she was bleeding from his jab. He still wasn’t over her walking out on him after that kiss. She wasn’t over it either. She had her reasons, but she was sure he didn’t care to hear them. She didn’t blame him. She was a coward when it came to Quinn. She always would be.

“What do you care?” she asked. “She can’t even look at you. So much for Miller being some kind of super-witch. He couldn’t even do a simple glamour spell on one incompetent reaper.”

“Evil,” Quinn repeated, brows raised and mouth flat.

Tristin rolled her eyes. She got it, okay? She did. It was like John Green novel levels of sad and tragic that Mace had somehow disappeared. But it’d been weeks and nothing. No ghostly presence, no message from beyond the grave, just Ember and that damn sketchbook and her almost manic drawing of Mace’s face again and again. It was freaking Tristin out. Besides, they had way bigger problems to worry about.

“I’m sorry, but we sort of have a giant clock ticking down over our heads with the Grove vowing to return, and one town over…we have…hell, I don’t know what we have.”

“Two words, Tristin,” Quinn said. “Cannibalistic cheerleaders.”

She cringed. It was just too ridiculous to acknowledge. Still, they’d found the second body the previous night. A man this time, his throat torn out, organs missing. Another cheerleader was missing too. Two missing cheerleaders and two freshly dead bodies. It didn’t make sense. Somebody was turning these girls into…something, and they, in turn, were killing, but why? It made no sense. It bothered her that Quinn wasn’t more interested in trying to solve this problem. The old Quinn would have obsessed over this puzzle. They had bigger problems than Ember’s boyfriend’s untimely demise. “Right, cannibalistic cheerleaders…on a killing spree. That’s a lot.”

“I’m not sure four victims constitutes a spree,” Quinn reminded her. “Isa and Wren have patrolled all over Wolf Creek, and they said they didn’t pick up the trail of any new evil. It sucks, but we’ve got our own problems right here in Belle Haven. Wolf Creek will have to handle their own murders.”

“Wow, now who’s evil? For somebody who used to be human, you’ve certainly abandoned their plight quick enough.”

“Don’t make this about me. The wolves gave up Wolf Creek to the humans when the sanctuary closed twelve years ago. I’m not saying dead humans are unimportant, but we’re a little busy trying to keep our people alive to start branching into hunting serial killers, don’t you think?”

Tristin looked away. Across the yard, Rhys and Wren were running fighting drills. Isa sat on the porch railing, keeping an eye on both Ember and the wolves. Bitterness burned like acid in Tristin’s stomach. She would rather be fighting with the pack. That’s how she could help. She didn’t understand why she had to just sit here and watch Ember come unglued. Tristin wasn’t the emotional one. That’s why they had Quinn and Kai or even Neoma and Isa. Tristin was so low on the phone tree when it came to emotional support she was dangling by her fingernails. Let them babysit; she should be fighting.

“What about you? What do you think?” she asked her brother. When he didn’t answer, she turned to see why and rolled her eyes. Across the yard, Rhys was peeling his wet shirt off his sweaty body. Tristin wrinkled her nose. It was like stumbling into a bad porno every time the two of them were together lately. Her brother’s mouth went slack, eyes blatantly roaming the wolf’s body. Rhys tipped his head back, scenting the air before lasering in on her brother with a grin.

Tristin groaned, desperately wanting to claw her own eyes out. “Oh my God, will you two just do it already? We’re all gagging on the sexual tension around here.”

“No!” Isa and Wren both shouted from opposite sides of the yard. Rhys grinned at Kai, using his shirt to towel off his chest before tossing it to the ground and stretching his arms overhead.

“I hate you so much,” Kai murmured. Rhys threw his head back and laughed. Tristin gaped. They all did. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Rhys laugh. Like really laugh. Her brother had done that. Her brother, who currently looked like he was in the middle of a stroke.

She shoved him hard enough for him to fall over. “Get it together, bro.”

Ember tossed her pencil aside, pressing both palms to the picture before her. “Come on,” she muttered to herself. “Please?”

Tristin’s chest felt tight. She remembered being that desperate. She looked back at Quinn, who smiled at her for a minute before it slipped away, like he was remembering her walking away from him all over again. How long was he going to hang on to this? He had to see it was better this way.

Ember released a choked sob and chucked her sketchbook across the lawn. Neoma slipped from her spot on the steps and sat next to Ember. “I’m sorry, Ember.”

Ember shook her head, palms up. “I don’t get it. He was right there. I talked to him. He survived. He can’t cross over, so where is he?”

Neoma knew better than to try and hug Ember. Instead, the faery pulled her knees to her chest. “He can’t cross over into the spirit world, but he could go to others.”

Ember stared at the girl. “What do you mean?”

“Sluagh aren’t permitted into the spirit world because they can’t move on to the light world or the dark. The spirit world is for those who transition into the Shadowlands or the light world. But there are other places…other worlds.” Neoma’s expression went dark. “There’s always somewhere to go.”

If possible, Ember frowned harder. Tristin didn’t blame her cousin; talking to Neoma could often be confusing as the girl tended to talk in vague riddles. The fae had more knowledge of the worlds than anybody. Neoma’s own people existed in a different world, as weird as that was to comprehend. Even some reapers, like Cael, lived in the in-between. Tristin didn’t want to know about any other worlds; she found this world confusing enough.

“Could he get there by himself?” Ember asked. “He’s fae too, right?”

“But he’s Unseelie; dark fae. They lost their rights to travel when the Fomorians lost the war with the Tuatha de Danaan.” The tiny blonde shook her head. “So probably not, no.”

Tristin stifled a groan as tears spilled down Ember’s cheeks…again. Her cousin was always leaking lately. “Do you think somebody took him?”

“Oh my God,” Tristin snapped, “nobody took him, Ember. Sometimes people just disappear. Maybe sluagh can cross over. Maybe he suddenly blinked from existence. Maybe he’s somewhere getting exactly what he deserves. Who knows? But you’ve got to stop this. You’re making everybody crazy.”

“Tristin!” Isa snapped.

Tristin cringed but squared her jaw. No, she was right about this. This wasn’t healthy. Ember needed to hear this. If she had to be the bitch again, so be it. “What? I’m just being honest. He was a horrible person. He ate people’s souls. He killed people. He killed her father. Ember needs to…to move on.”

Ember was on her feet in an instant, her face contorting as she barreled towards Tristin. “I need to move on? Me? Really? Like you did when Quinn died?” Ember’s eyes bounced to Quinn before flinching away. “You stopped eating, stopped showering. You refused to leave your room for days. You wandered around carrying that beanie like it was a security blanket. Is that how I should move on? Oh, wait, I know. Maybe I should conspire with a coven of witches to bind my cousin to a shady underworld god in order to supersede the natural order? Because that’s what sane people do.”

“Quinn wasn’t a murderer,” Tristin snapped.

“Well, he is now,” Ember bit back. As soon as the words left her mouth, Ember gasped, covering it with her hand and looking at Quinn in horror. “Quinn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Quinn gave a stilted nod. “It’s okay. We’re all under a lot of stress right now.”

But Ember was shaking her head, hitting Quinn with the full force of her Bambi eyes. “No. That was awful. None of this is your fault.”

Quinn stepped forward, like he was about to apologize to her but instead said, “It’s okay, really.”

Tristin stared at Quinn like he had two heads. “That’s not okay. She had no right to say that to you. She needs to stop taking all of this out on you.”

Ember’s nostrils flared as she stared at Tristin with a hostility she hadn’t thought Ember capable of. “Do you hear yourself? You’re such a hypocrite. Like, you’ve been a nightmare to me for weeks, and that’s okay, but the minute somebody talks to Quinn like you talk to everybody else, now there’s a problem? Screw you.”

Tristin sneered. “Screw me? Screw you. None of this ever would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Shown up? Shown up?” Ember yelled.

“Should we do something about this?” Kai asked Quinn from somewhere to her left.

“Nah, let ‘em go,” Quinn murmured, backing out of their way.

Tristin wanted to say something to him, but Ember wasn’t done with her pity party. “You kidnapped me, you crazy bitch!”

Tristin rolled her eyes. “Oh, we did not.”

Ember’s face was turning as red as her hair. “You literally threatened me with bodily harm and forced me into a car. That’s the legal definition of kidnapping. If you don’t believe me, ask Quinn.”

Tristin went hot all over. She didn’t even know which to acknowledge first. “We saved your life. Your soul-sucking boyfriend was trying to kill you. Or have you forgotten that part in your desperately sad attempt to rewrite your fairy tale romance.”

There was a horrible screech, and then the air was shoved out of Tristin’s lungs as she hit the ground hard. Before she could comprehend what had happened, Ember was on top of her with two fistfuls of her hair. “Hair pulling? Really?” Tristin grunted, blinking back the tears pricking at her eyes as her cousin attempted to scalp her. Why did that hurt so bad?

Ember raged above her. “Oh my God. Just shut up. You’re the worst person in the whole world.”

Tristin tried to kick her off, but Ember straddled her cousin’s waist, making it impossible to get any leverage. She was going to win this fight just by inexperience, and it wasn’t fair. “Get off me, you lunatic!” Tristin yelled, trying not to resort to hair pulling. She wanted to escape this fight with some dignity, but it was hard to have a fight that looked cool when the person you were fighting only cared about inflicting maximum damage.

“I hate you. I hate you,” Ember said over and over almost as if to herself. Even as Rhys dragged her off Tristin, Ember tried to attack, arms and legs flailing in Tristin’s direction. Tristin might have even laughed if Ember didn’t have the look of murder in her eyes.

Isa growled, her eyes glowing red as she snapped, “That’s enough. Knock it off, or I’ll turn the hose on you two. We’re done for the day. Ember, go get ready for work. Tristin, come here.”

As the others trailed into the house, Tristin’s confidence seemed to follow. Her insides shook at the prospect of facing her alpha. She crossed her arms over her chest as Wren and Isa stared her down. “What?” she asked, not able to stand their judgy expressions anymore.

To her surprise, it was Wren who spoke. “No more. Do you understand me? Just leave her be. You may not have liked Mace, but Ember did, and honestly, the way you’re behaving…I’m just really disappointed in you, Tristin. We raised you better than that.”

Seriously? He was going to Dad her now? Tristin’s face flushed, her teeth grinding together until she thought they might shatter. She nodded once. Isa started to speak, but then stopped herself, shaking her head at Tristin and walking away.

Tristin waited for Wren to follow but he didn’t, instead, catching her arm and turning her towards him. “I get it, you know.”

“Get what?” Tristin mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

“The anger. I get that it’s how you cope. When you feel helpless or sad or scared, it becomes anger. But be careful, Tris. It’s tied directly to your gifts.”

Tristin looked away from him with an aborted shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. I speak from experience. The closer wolves get to the full moon, the more heightened our senses and our emotions become. It’s why bitten wolves have such a hard time controlling their shift. The more rage a wolf holds, the less control he has on his shift. You—your banshee side—much of that power comes from anger. It’s like that book said…banshees are not just harbingers of death; they are punishers as well. You need to be careful not to let that side of you take over, for all of our sakes.”

Tristin swallowed hard at the mention of the book; the book Quinn had accidentally brought back from Shelby’s the night the Grove attacked. The book Quinn had died for. The book Tristin refused to acknowledge. “I don’t think you have to worry about my banshee side, Wren. She’s been quiet for days.”

“Remember that old proverb about the two wolves living inside all of us? One good, one evil? Which one wins?” Wren asked.

Tristin rolled her eyes. She hated these little morality lessons. He stared at her patiently until she huffed. “The one you feed.”

“Exactly,” Wren said. “The same can be said about your human side and your banshee side, Tristin. You can choose to feed your anger, or you can choose to feed your happiness, whichever one you choose is the side that will win.”

“I thought you wanted me to embrace my inner banshee.”

“Embrace it, Tristin, but don’t let it overtake you. Your anger will consume you until nothing but the banshee exists, and if that happens, we’re all going to suffer.”

Tristin nodded at him. “Fine. I get it.”

“Good girl,” he said, smacking a kiss onto her forehead. “Now, you should go apologize to Ember.”

Tristin scoffed. “Don’t push your luck. Your speech wasn’t that good.”

Wren shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Can’t fault a guy for trying.”