Page 192 of Huntress

“I already told you, nobody has time to babysit your murderous fucking demon!” Marley whisper-yelled, losing her patience. “Elsie, Morgan lost an eye! Grady is in rough shape and almost didn’t make it. We might have managed to save Trisse’s arm, but it’s not a sure thing. Don’t you care about them?!”

“Your squad members are safe in your capable hands, where they’re getting the best treatment the clan can provide. Meanwhile, Saint was instrumental in defeating that demon, and even though he was injured for his trouble, you sent him to be tortured,” Elsie barely contained the anger in her voice. “What kind of healer chooses not to help someone heal?”

“A healer who doesn’t work for demons.”

“A healer who I used to think was my friend,” Elsie retorted. She shoved Marley’s shoulder, pushing the taller girl aside. “Healed or not, I can still kick your ass, Mar, and if I go out there to find Clairemont has laid a single finger on Saint, I’m coming back for you. Stay the fuck away from me.”

“I have always been your friend!” Marley shouted after her as she walked away.

Elsie kept walking. Nothing Marley did would make that last statement true. She saw it clearly now. They’d coexisted peacefully along the way, but they’d used each other to get to the top. She’d used them to make her squad the best, and they’d used her reputation to gain respect, better pay, and all the other benefits that came with the First Squad title. That’s just the way things were among hunters.

Elsie hobbled through the halls. Her uninjured muscles overcompensated for those that were, and each step made her want to lie down and cry, but the thought of Saint spending another second in Clairemont’s grasp brought fantasies of strangling Marley.

She avoided the common areas entirely, not wanting to deal with anyone who might wish to speak with her. Going around took her longer, but it saved time when considering how long she’d be held up by soldiers looking for a conversation or trying to send her back to the infirmary.

Leaving the building meant she no longer had anything to lean on, forcing Elsie to straighten up and ignore the pain. She limped heavily, which was annoying, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to that ugly yellow building.

Halfway across the yard, she saw a flurry of wings and seconds later a black blur landed roughly ten feet in front of her. Elsie’s eyes widened, and she instinctively reached for a weapon that was not at her hip.

Another raven, and once again disappointment hit that it wasn’t Stolas coming to collect her. It stared at her, hopping to the side and ruffling its feathers. The bird must have flown into the compound when the centipede crashed through their barrier and gotten itself trapped.

It clacked its beak at her, and Elsie realized she was caught. The raven recognized her. Now the damned thing had to die, or it would lead the king of the dark fae straight to her.

Gods, what did this mean for her mother? Had Santa Muerte failed to return because she’d lost the battle? No, she refused to believe that. Her mother was far too powerful and crafty to have succumbed. Santa Muerte was death, after all, and death was inevitable.

“Lost but found!” the raven quorked in its oddly slow and deep, throaty voice.

Elsie tilted her head as though curious. Her instincts clamored for her attention, warning her that lying to this creature with its queer power was impossible. It had spent too many years in Underhill, gaining immortality and a keen sense of the truth, among other things. The magic of the fae had affected it in strange, unthinkable ways.

“What brought you here?” she asked. Knowing the answer didn’t make the question a lie, but the bird ruffled his feathers, leaning forward and fixing her with one glittering eye.

“He asks for you. Wants daughters home. Safe.” The raven hadn’t lied, but that didn’t mean its words were true. He’d simply repeated what he’d been taught.

One word among them bothered Elsie. Daughters. The mad fae king was looking for more than one of his bastard children. Did that mean he wasn’t entirely sure which daughter he wanted? Were the ravens unable to sense the difference?

“How many daughters is he looking for?” Elsie asked. She held out an arm as an invitation for the bird to come closer. He cocked his head and hopped twice in an ungainly stride. Coming closer, but not trusting her enough to use her as a perch.

“Two important daughters are needed, one is now found.” The words came out in an uneven cadence, some fast and close together, others spaced out.

Their search was specific then. Elsie’s mother hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said the birds were looking for her. Somewhere out there, a sister remained hidden from their father and the promised terrors that would follow once found.

“When can we go to him?” she asked, offering a small smile. The sinister bird hopped a couple of steps closer. Only six feet separated them.

“Leave now, your father will heal you,” the raven claimed. Elsie covered her stomach with one hand, truly surprised. She hadn’t realized her injuries were obvious when she was standing still. Of course, the bird would have seen her from the sky before it landed.

“You promise he won’t hurt me?” Elsie asked, and the bird ruffled his wings, giving her an offended look.

“This daughter is precious and special.” His deep, croaking voice resonated. “Father will heal.”

That wasn’t an answer. The bird was intelligent enough to deflect the question while still steering her in the direction he wanted.

“I’d like it to be healed. Will you guide me to him?” She offered her arm again. This time, the bird took the offer. He landed on her arm, long talons pressing against her skin without scratching or puncturing.

“Father will be–”

What her father would have been, she’d never know. Elsie snapped the bird’s neck, letting its body fall to the ground. The panic she’d been suppressing to fool the creature burst forth all at once.

She’d been found! Years spent anxiously wondering if her mother had lied, or if there really was anything to worry about, were resolved by a chance encounter. Her father’s drive to capture her still existed, and the only reason he wasn’t here collecting her now was the fact that his damned bird had gotten stuck in the resurrected barrier. Pure dumb luck had kept her safe this time.