A Dawn Most Wicked

The sconce fell from the wall, sparks flew, and Jie’s feet hit the ground. She threw me a glare. “Next time just ask.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, already moving to the now-empty expanse. Two wires jutted from a hole, and their tips sparkled with electricity. My hand still wrapped, I grabbed the sparking wires and tugged them out.

Joseph lifted, and understanding flashing in his eyes. “Raw electricity.”

“Raw electricity,” I confirmed. “And you’re gonna use it. But you have to stay here. Jie and I will get the horns, bring them to you, and then you—”

Joseph’s hand clamped on the wires, cutting me off. The Spirit-Hunter’s eyes blazed blue. His hand shot up. Lightning boomed from his fingertips, crashing into another tangle of spirits. Electricity hissed and burned so bright that I had to squint to see.

Then it vanished—the electricity, the ghosts, the thunder.

Jie swore under her breath, her eyes popping from her head. This man had a skill I had never even known was possible. . . .

“Well, Mr. Sheridan,” Joseph said, a fresh vigor in his voice, “your theory regarding raw electricity holds true. Now, if you could please bring me the lodestone.” The edges of his lips twitched into an almost cruel smile. “I have a curse and shipload of spirits to hunt.”

After exchanging a glance, Jie and I set off. Back through the carnage, back through the spirits.

We reached the Main Deck in seconds. I craned my neck as we ran for the next set of stairs, trying to see inside the pilothouse. But I could make out nothing at this angle.

“The next floor is bad!” Jie shouted, loping onto the first step. “We gotta run, yeah? Fast.”

“I am runnin’ fast!” I yelled. My pulse banged in time to my feet—bam, bam, bam up the steps.

“Not fast enough!” Jie shrieked. “Drop!”

I toppled forward. My hands slammed onto the steps right before my teeth hit—and right before a tornado roared overhead, screeching for blood.

Then we were back on our feet. We barreled up the final steps and hit the Passenger Deck.

But my legs almost gave out. Everywhere I looked, I saw black nothingness. My fingers were numb, my nose overwhelmed by rotting soil, and my brain—the hunger for blood hammered in further with each scream. It lodged in my chest. Awakened a craving of my own—for blood and vengeance against everyone who’d ever crossed me.

Jie’s braid whipped ahead of me, diving and flowing. Back and forth, over and under, she eluded spirits like a snake.

I didn’t know how she did it. Every time I spun aside to avoid a ghost, I careened into another. My flesh ripped open, my ears exploded with pressure, and I wanted to hurt someone—I didn’t care who.

But then Jie’s braid flicked ahead of me, higher than before. She had reached the stairs.

I tumbled onto the first steps, horrified by the blood that splattered across the wood. My blood.

“Come on!” Jie’s voice spiked through my brain—stronger than the ghost cries for blood. Stronger than my hunger for vengeance.

I pushed myself up, fighting the claws that sliced into my legs and tried to hold me down. Then hands— warm, human hands—clamped on my wrists. My gaze ripped up and met Jie’s eyes. She yanked. I followed.

Up we went, picking up speed until I didn’t need Jie anymore. Until the pain from my cuts had faded into an annoying hum at the back of my mind.

We reached the Texas Deck. I staggered after Jie, my eyes instantly leaping to the pilothouse now that I was finally close enough to see inside.

There were three shadows. The lithe one at the wheel was Cassidy—thank God she was still alive, still all right. The broad man beside her had to be Captain Cochran . . . and the other man—the one beside an open window—was Murry.

“He has . . . a pistol.” Jie panted, squinting. “I can see the shape of it pointed at the others, so we can’t just run up there.”

“You’re . . . right.” My breath sawed in and out. “But look at the open window.”

“Yeah?”

“If I go up alone, I can get the horns. Toss them out to you.” I lifted my eyebrows. “Can you get them to Joseph?”

“Of course I can,” she snapped. “Just don’t get shot, yeah?”

“I’ve taken enough damage for one night,” I wheezed. “Now go wait below the window until you see the . . .” My voice faded off. A ghost had joined us on the Texas. A ghost that really wanted my blood.

You left your mother to die! she screeched directly into the darkest corners of my brain. You left her, and you will pay!

“No.” My fists clenched. “You didn’t know my mother—you have no idea what happened, and I sure as hell didn’t leave her—” Fury shattered through my skull, and a scream burst from my throat.

But with that scream came a beautiful stroke of clarity. A deadly idea that might just work.

Please, Lang, I prayed. Get that paddle in reverse. I burst into a sprint, away from Jie and away from the ghost. Toward the boat’s bow and the stairs to the pilothouse. Pain stabbed through my head—each step echoing with one word: blood. The ghost was giving chase.

And that was what I wanted.

I hit the end of the cabins. My hand lashed out, grasping the edge of the building, and my momentum carried me around the corner. A storm of ice hurtled past. Then I was at the stairwell and bounding up, up, up, my knees crunching from the impact. “Look out!” I roared. “Cassidy, duck!”

I charged into the pilothouse and dove for Cass. My arms snapped around her waist, and I yanked her to the floor.

The ghost erupted in the room.

And as I’d hoped, Murry dropped the pistol. It clattered to the floor—almost within reach of my fingertips. I grabbed for it. The captain did too.

Then the ghost flew at me.

“Move!” I yelled at the captain.

But the captain didn’t move—not fast enough anyway. The ghost slammed into him. Cochran flew up, off his feet, and his head crashed into the glass. The window splintered, cracking dangerously outward, but did not break.

Then the captain slumped to the floor, blood spreading from his head like a halo.

“Father!” Cassidy struggled to get up, but I shoved her back. The ghost wasn’t finished. It cycloned around, knowing it had missed me.

But then Murry stepped in front of me and thrust out the horns—stabbed them at the ghost. “Stop.”

The ghost froze in midair. For several breathless moments I didn’t move. I simply gaped at the spirit. My mind reeled, still stuck in the panic of flight. In the blood that ran from the captain’s head.

Then Murry snatched the gun off the floor and rounded on me. “You’re a goddamned idiot, Striker. If you hadn’t come up here, I could’ve ended this without violence. We could’ve all reached Natchez happy.”

“Without violence?” Cass cried. “We’re on a collision course with Devil’s Isle and ghosts are killing us!”

Murry didn’t answer. He cocked the pistol with a soft click and aimed it at the captain’s head. “I know you’re awake. Open your eyes, Cap’n.”

Cochran’s eyelids snapped up. “Coward,” he snarled. “You’re just an old, yellow-bellied coward.”

“Coward?” The scars around Murry’s face stretched taut, his eyes twitching with rage and the horns shaking in his left hand. “You’re the coward—you’re the one who did this to me. You ruined my sight forever!”

“So why did you stay?” Cochran’s lips spread in a nasty grin, his teeth covered in blood. “You could have run off with your tail between your legs, but you chose to st—”

“And miss seein’ you suffer?” Murry barked a harsh laugh. “Not a chance in hell. You’re finally getting what you deserve.”

“But why hurt the Queen?” Cassidy asked, her words clipped and furious. “Why destroy your own life along with—”

“My life was destroyed five years ago.” Murry sneered at her. “All those ‘glory days’ everyone praised