Scorpion… They won’t come…
I gasp as the rush of memories bowls into me, my mother’s voice rising up against the rushing river, her face grim, her eyes determined…
“They’ll come for you, Stevie. After the sky falls and the scorpion stings, after the star takes flight and the lightning burns… Flame and blood and blade and bone… Flame and blood and blade and bone they will come…”
Thosewere her final words. Cryptic and baffling. Nonsense, maybe—yet more impassioned than anything she’d ever said before.
Seconds later, she was gone, sucked away by the current while I watched helplessly from a cave above the waterline, her final prophecy burned forever on my heart.
I never told anyone what she said. Not Arizona Search and Rescue, when they finally saved me from that cold, dark cave three days later. Not the social workers and grief counselors that came after. Not even Jessa.
He can’t be talking about my mother. No fucking way.
The monster presses the knife to my belly, the tip piercing my skin.
“Show me,” he orders.
“Fuck off, dickless.”
“Show me!” His yellow eyes flare as the knife sinks into my gut.
A scarlet stain blooms on my shirt.
I don’t feel any pain.
All I feel is rage. Like a living, breathing beast it pulses inside me, hot and fiery. Hungry.
And not enjoying this little game one bit.
Not-Luke steps closer, crowding me, driving the blade deeper.
I look into his yellow eyes. “Don’t make me do this.”
Clearly mistaking my warning for a plea, he grins and says, “You’ll do what I—”
I slam the heel of my hand into his nose. Bone cracks. He stumbles backward, clutching his face. Red-black blood oozes through his fingers.
He charges me again, but in that moment, knife sticking out of my belly, my old friend possessed and covered in blood, the storm raging beyond the walls, my exits cut off, something inside me completely unravels.
My chest fills with a swirling heat, and instinctively I raise my palms. A burst of energy explodes outward, expelling the knife and encasing me in a protective shield of blinding white light. Magick drapes over my arms like gossamer curtains.
No, not curtains. Wings.
Even without seeing its full form, I know the energy around me is an owl—the legend and soul of the rock come to life. Luminescent and graceful, it fills me with a power and fearlessness that borders on predatory. I spread my arms wide, then bring them to my chest, making the great wings flap. The force of air slams Not-Luke into the wall. He hits the back of his head, then crashes down onto his ass.
His yellow gaze locks on mine, burning with new hatred even as a smile breaks across his bloody face. “You’ll be executed for this, witch.”
Before I can utter a single word, I feel a tug from the inside, almost like an undercurrent. I’m powerless to resist as the soul-force carries me backward, sucking me out into the storm. Rain continues to pound the sandstone, the desert below enshrouded in ghostly mist, but nothing can penetrate my protective shield.
The massive wings flap, shining light all around me. It takes me a beat to realize I’m hovering outside the cave, feet no longer touching the ground.
Not-Luke scrambles to his feet. The energy of his murderous rage washes over me. He wants me to know he’s going to kill me, and he’s going to enjoy every torturous second.
It’s the last thing I feel before I fall.
Four
STEVIE
