Bloodrose

“The portrait,” he said. He moved his eyes from Logan to me. “The portrait in the library.”

I nodded, sliding off the bed to stand close to him. I didn’t dare touch him. The moment was live with raw emotion that I couldn’t risk provoking.

“Does that mean…,” Shay whispered. “They’re alive, but… are they those… things?”

“What things?” Logan asked.

“He means the Fallen,” Anika said. “Is he right? Are Tristan and Sarah Fallen?”

“No,” Logan said. “They are not Fallen. The Fallen are carrion, little more than animated corpses. Bosque wanted Tristan and Sarah sentient. They’re being held in stasis, imprisoned in that painting.”

“How is that different than the other paintings?” Shay asked.

“The Fallen are prisoners we use to feed the wraiths,” Logan replied, cringing when Ren snarled. “The paintings are a liminal space-a holding cell of sorts. Bosque enjoys observing what he calls his own ‘art of war.’ He can see through the dimensional wall to watch the wraiths feeding. The prisoners remain there until they have nothing left to offer the wraiths. Then they are discarded.”

“But my parents haven’t been given to the wraiths?” Shay asked. “You’re sure?”

“You’ve seen it with your own eyes, Shay,” Logan said. “When you looked at their portrait, how did they appear?”

“Sad,” Shay murmured.

“But unharmed,” Logan said. Shay nodded.

“When you close the Rift, it will free Tristan and Sarah,” Logan said. “They’ll have aged, just as any human being would. But they will otherwise be as you knew them.”

“I never knew them,” Shay said.

“I did,” Anika said quietly. “Many of us did. We counted your parents as friends.”

Shay looked at her, surprised. She didn’t meet his gaze, lost in her own thoughts. “We failed them. We should have kept them safe, kept you hidden, but we couldn’t.”

The room fell quiet until Logan cleared his throat.

“I trust that information is worth something to you.”

“Perhaps,” Anika said.

“I’ll do whatever I can to prove myself of value,” Logan said. “I can help you win.”

Anika nodded, but she was looking at a woman who had appeared in the doorway.

“Ethan said you needed a healer.” The woman glanced around the room, eyes searching for her patient.

“Nothing serious,” Anika said. “The prisoner has a cut that needs tending. Disinfection, but I don’t think stitches will be necessary.”

The healer nodded and went to the bed.

“We’ll have more to discuss,” Anika said to Logan.

“Of course.” He winced when the healer peeled his shirt back. “If you won’t get me cigarettes, could I have something for the pain?”

Anika smiled. “I think you can bear it.”

TWELVE

“CAN WE TRUST HIM?” I watched Adne move, gleaming threads spiraling out from her skeans as she wove the door that would lead us to Eydis’s resting place in Tulum. The writing is on the wall, Logan had said. Was he right? We had one sword; we were about to take the first step in getting the second.

Nev shrugged. “As much as I hate to say it, yeah. Logan would stab himself in the back if he thought it would get him something he wanted.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mason had rejoined us in Haldis Tactical but couldn’t seem to shake his somber mood. “None of it matters.”

“Would you stop?” Nev bared teeth at him. “It’s okay to be angry. You should be angry.”

Mason looked away. “If he can help us win, that’s what matters.”

“Look.” Nev’s features softened. He rested his forehead against Mason’s. “We’ll win, then we’ll kill him. Deal?”

Mason tried to pull back, but Nev gripped his shoulders. He began to laugh. “Okay, deal.”

I regarded Nev thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you?”

“What?” he asked, keeping Mason wrapped in his arms.

“Kill Logan,” I said. “When he came through the portal with us. You stayed human. You were strangling him. Why didn’t you shift and rip his throat out?”

It was an appealing idea-and one I was certain had crossed Nev’s mind more than once.

He offered me a thin smile. “I wanted him to know it was me who killed him. The Keepers have never been good at knowing who we are when we’re wolves.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.”

“It’s time.” Anika gestured to the now-open portal. All I could see through the shimmering door were jewel tones. Sapphire blue. Emerald green. Colors so vivid, they were both alluring and ominous.

Shay fell in step beside me. “Tell me again why he’s here?”

I didn’t need to ask who Shay meant by “he.” “You know why. The pack needs him. And the Searchers trust him.”

Ren was already moving through the portal, in wolf form, trotting beside Sabine and Ethan.

“Fine,” Shay said. I was a little surprised when he also shifted, bounding past Adne and into the gem-like hues of the door.

Mason laughed. “He’s a wolf, all right.”

“And he doesn’t want Ren to forget it,” Nev finished. Grinning at each other, they both shifted and took off after Shay.

I heard Connor laughing behind me.

“Your mess,” he said when I glared at him.

“Don’t forget that I know about your housekeeping issues too, Searcher.” I flashed fangs at him before shifting. That wiped the smile off his face. I barked my satisfaction before chasing the others.

The colors were so bright it took me a minute to realize I’d reached our destination. The environment around me was full, too full. Thick leaves bent down, surrounding us, the jade nets of the forest canopy only occasionally pierced by spears of sunlight. It was the mixture of odors that gave me a sense of place… and change. While the air of Cinque Terre whispered of sea salt and lemons, it was crisp and dry. This air was heavy, rain-drenched. It poured into my lungs almost like water. I caught the scent of ocean salt and knew it was nearby. But even the sea smell had changed, gained a dark, rich scent of kelp and brine that invoked the vastness of waves and endless shorelines.

“All accounted for?” Silas straightened his vest and pulled out his omnipresent pen and notepad.

I really wish he wasn’t coming with us. Mason’s voice sounded in my head.

You won’t get any argument here, Shay replied, wagging his tail.

“Oh, wait, I forgot my sunscreen,” Connor said. “Silas, be a dear and run back to the Academy to get some. We’ll just wait. Right, guys?”

“Shut up,” Silas said, but he patted his vest and I knew he was double checking to make sure he’d brought his sunscreen.

“Come on.” Ethan waved for us to follow him down a game trail I could barely make out in the dense foliage. “They’ll be waiting for us.”

We walked a quarter mile. With each step a crashing sound grew louder. Ethan turned a sharp corner on the trail; when I reached the same spot, I stopped in my tracks.

It was as if someone had suddenly drawn the shades in a dark room. Blinding sun washed over us as the jungle dropped away, revealing miles and miles of beach with sand so white it resembled snow. The thunder of rolling surf