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Even in the dim light inside the tent, her pointed teeth sparkled. I wondered what it would be like, being bitten by those teeth. I wasn't about to find out.
“Wait, Jaide. Don't do this!” Parris shouted.
What choice did I have? There was nothing to do but ignore Parris’ pleas and allow the Siren to drag me out of the tent, where I got a good look at exactly how much carnage had been wrought
There was hardly a tent that wasn't on fire, and burning lumps scattered around the camp were all that was left of Witches, who must have fought valiantly against their attackers. But they were way outnumbered. I saw that right away, as I came face to face with an army of both blood-covered Synians and Sirens.
And we were supposed to fight this?
All of them? What were we even thinking? And where were Garret and Elliot? What about Delphine? I could hardly hold a thought in my head before another one pushed it out of the way, and all while my heart thudded like it wanted to explode.
The answer was so obvious. I could fry every single one of them. But that might mean Garrett and Elliot getting in the way. I couldn't risk that.
Nor could I risk harming the person who strode toward me from the center of the bloodthirsty group that now filled the camp.
“Jett.” It was barely a breath, hardly a sound.
For something so weak, it held heavy meaning.
Because the person in front of me was Jett, but he wasn't.
His hair was the same silver, but now it was cut short. He had never exactly been bulky, but now he was thin enough that a gust of wind might blow him off his feet. He wore fine, expensive clothes, but they hung on his frame like sails. He looked sickly, his skin slick with sweat.
And oh, were my eyes playing tricks on me? Or were those bite marks all over his neck? Some were fresh by the looks of them, while others were nothing but scar tissue now. They gleamed bright white in the firelight, and the sight of them turned my stomach like nothing had so far. The symbol of everything he had sacrificed, everything that had been done to him. No wonder he looked like a stranger.
It was more than that.
It was the blankness behind his eyes. They were the same color as ever, just like mine, but now there was nothing there. He might as well have been dead on his feet, a shambling corpse. No light. No feeling. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he didn't even recognize me. He was nothing but a husk.
A shell.
An empty vessel that used to be my brother who loved me. Who protected me. Who I had risked my life in some vain, pointless attempt to save him. Now, I saw how useless all of it had been. Because while he might have been breathing, the Jett I knew was gone.
They were right. They had all been right. And knowing it was what finally made me blurt out a broken, guttural sob. “Jett!”
Maybe the sound of my voice and the sight of me breaking down like this would be enough to get through to him.
There was no response from Jett. Not even a flinch. All he did was stand there, surrounded by his army, staring at me like a zombie.
Jett really was gone.
Which meant the prophecy was right. What everybody had tried to tell me was right.
He was going to kill me—if I didn't kill him first.
