“WHY DO WE do this?” Dad demanded from his position on the other side of the clinical steel table.

I resisted rolling my eyes—no one did that in the Bayview treatment rooms without punishment. Not that I wasn’t already being punished enough for my choice to find a phoenix with the intention of wooing rather than killing her.

After the almost straight-shoot drive from Charlotte to New York—stopping only for gas and food—I’d been taken directly to the Bayview prison and thrown into a holding cell. My family had left me there without even a backward glance or apology. I was in the wrong, after all.

That first night, I’d actually begun to understand the fear that must have run though the minds of the more advanced creatures that had passed through the halls of the Rain headquarters. I even began to empathize with the beings who were more than just monsters—the ones who were intelligent and funny; who had beautiful smiles, a quick wit, and a stunning body. I was certain the intention wasn’t for me to empathize with those on the other side of the battle, but that’s exactly where I found myself.

How could I not given the way Evie had welcomed me into her life with open arms versus the ability of my own family to lock me away upon my return?

The holding cells were simple, primitive even, containing only a basic metal bed that pivoted off the wall—the fold-up system allowed more space in the cell for securing the beasts who didn’t need bedding—and a bucket for waste. There was no running water or entertainment. My treatment was fit for those things less than human, far less comfortable than even the actual criminals down in the lower levels of Bayview.

The ground in my cell was stained with a number of ruddy-brown marks that looked suspiciously like dried blood, and the walls were covered with all manner of scrapes, scratches, and teeth marks of various vintage.

All reminders of the previous inhabitants of my little piece of Hell.

Adding to the unpleasant atmosphere were the Assessors who roamed the hall all night. As I’d learned on my return, an additional function of their role was the retraining of rogue operatives—a very small, select group of misfits of which I was apparently now a proud member. It was something I must have missed during the initiation I’d had into their ranks before returning to my family.

I’d yet to have my first “treatment,” but their mere presence near my cell was enough to make me want to leave Bayview and never return. Despite the risk it would have posed to Evie’s life, I found myself wishing I’d just run away with her instead. My family might have hunted us forever, but it couldn’t be any worse than what I was facing now.

At least I’d have had Evie’s warm embrace for comfort.

When the door had opened at the crack of dawn, I’d thought it was an Assessor coming to find me, but instead Dad had entered the holding cell to drag me down into the treatment room. Without pause, he’d practically thrown me into one of the hard metal chairs.

I wasn’t secured in any way, but I knew better than to try to break free. There were at least fifty people between where I sat and freedom. Most of them were armed and knew the best areas to shoot to incapacitate but not kill, and not one of them would flinch about inflicting pain on a perceived betrayer.

Dad stared at me with an angry scowl, waiting for an answer to his question.

I held back a sigh. “We do this because humanity needs a protector. Someone who can purge the sins of the land and protect the lives of the innocents caught in the battle.” It was a cause I knew from rote; I’d learned it so long ago that it was ingrained into me.

It was wrong.

“I don’t want a lesson from a fucking textbook.” Dad squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Forget the Rain’s reasons.”

My gaze lifted to meet his in surprise. What I saw saddened me. Lines creased the corner of his eyes where once there hadn’t been any. It was like he’d aged at least ten years in the last one. It was clear that while I’d been looking for Evie, I hadn’t been paying much attention to my family.

“Why do we do this? You, me, and Ethan. Why do we do it?”

I hung my head as I understood the answer he was after.

“For Louise,” I murmured. Disgust filled me. I had backed down from all of the promises I’d once given her. The simple action of allowing myself to feel for something nonhuman broke bonds forged years earlier.

“For Louise,” he confirmed. “Because . . .” he prompted.

“Because if it wasn’t for the existence of creatures like the fae, she wouldn’t have been hurt.”

He leaned forward against the table, his arms ramrod straight, the muscles twisting and flicking in a show of how tightly wound he was. And that was my fault too.

“You didn’t just betray the Rain when you chose to fraternize with that monster. You betrayed her!” He thumped his fist down hard against the table to emphasize his point. “Your own blood! What were you planning exactly? That you and that . . . creature would run off together? That you’d raise a little family of freaks and monsters?” His face was red and spittle foamed in the corners of his mouth by the end of his rant. Despite the guilt that had started to weigh on my limbs, his rage sparked something within me.

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” I shouted in retaliation, leaning forward so far that I was almost standing. I was seconds away from kicking the chair out behind me and trying to leave Bayview regardless of the certainty of failure. Even being shot couldn’t be worse than what I was facing. “I can’t tell you what I wanted. I just know that once I’d found her, I couldn’t let another day go by without at least trying to find out why I can’t get her out of my head!”

“And what if that was exactly what she wanted?”

His statement confused me because of course it was exactly what she’d wanted. I’d learned quickly that she felt the same things for me as I did for her. The only thing that had kept us apart for so long was the fear we each held for the other. We would have still been together if it hadn’t been for my family—we possibly could have been happy for some time to come.

“Did you even stop to consider the fact that you might have been under a curse?”

I snorted as I leaned back against the chair and crossed my arms. “She isn’t a witch.”

He slapped his hands down on the table again, causing me to sit up straighter. My father wasn’t someone to be messed with. He demanded respect at all times, and he’d earned it from me tenfold over the years. Mostly through fear.

“I know what she is. I also know that the lore is very light around phoenixes. The last recorded one was destroyed years ago, long before we had a chance to study it properly. When I realized that you’d found one in Charlotte, I didn’t want to make the same mistake again. I wanted to find her and bring her back alive. The Assessors wanted to meet her, but you forced our hand.”

I bit back on the bile that rose in my throat at the thought of Evie in the hands of the Assessors. Then the truth of what he’d inadvertently let slip struck me.

“The last one?” I asked in a whisper. “Was that a little less than twenty years ago?”

The hatred in his eyes as he met my gaze confirmed what he didn’t. Evie had been right. We’d caused her mother’s death. I couldn’t ask him the next logical question; I wasn’t sure I could bear the knowledge that my own father had been directly involved in that death.

You should thank him. Evie wouldn’t be here if her mother hadn’t been killed.

I buried my head in my hands and panted in order to stop myself from launching into a panic attack. Evie had been right. The Rain had stolen both her mother and her father from her. My presence had almost caused her death. She lived in a world fraught with danger, and now she had no one to protect her.

She doesn’t need protection. She’s strong. She can make it on her own.

I kept repeating it to myself so I didn’t fight my way out of the door and back to Charlotte.

I fought against the limited contents of my stomach, which were struggling to resurface.

“You know what has to happen now, don’t you?” he asked.

Still unable to settle my churning stomach—the nauseating mix of guilt and grief—I nodded. The Assessors happened next. I’d watched them work before, most recently when they’d been trying to find out whether silver kills werewolves regardless of how it’s delivered. I’d been brought in to document the reactions into the database. The beast had spent four hours howling in agony after the Assessors had forced liquid silver down its throat. I’d never seen an actual retraining, or been on the receiving end of the Assessors ire, but I wasn’t looking forward to experiencing either one.

“My hands are tied,” Dad said, almost sounding apologetic. Then his near-black eyes swept over me in disgust. “But honestly, I wouldn’t stop it even if I could. You need the refresher of why we do what we do.”

With clear disdain, he stepped closer to me. It was clear his intention was to strap my arms into the bindings built into the chair. He was treating me as though I was an other—one of the things we needed to destroy. It set me on edge, but then I remembered what I was doing this for.

Evie.

I closed my eyes and pictured her smile. Her safety was all that mattered. By being here, subjecting myself to whatever the Rain could throw at me, I was ensuring her survival.

As Dad tightened the thick leather strap over my right wrist, I thought about resisting. There wasn’t much point though. I would face whatever they were going to deliver regardless of whether I cooperated or not. It would just be easier, and less painful, for me if I did.

Once the straps were tight around my arms and chest, and I was completely unable to lift myself from the chair, Dad strode from the room without another word. Despite my resignation to my fate, it didn’t stop a sense of foreboding from trickling through my body.

With each minute that ticked by without another sound, and without anyone else joining me, my apprehension grew. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end, and the sensation sent a quiver down my spine. Something was going to happen.

Soon.

Something bad.

Twice, I subconsciously tugged at my arm in an attempt to smooth my palm over the chill creeping over my neck. To distract myself from the sensation, I counted the seconds and minutes. Almost an hour passed and still nothing. At least, nothing but the sensation of being observed.

I tried to twist my neck to get a glimpse at the window or the door, but the strap across my chest was too tight and the chair back too high to allow me that luxury. The urge to call out, to shout for attention, built in my chest, but I slammed it back down again. I was certain that was what they wanted. They wanted me unnerved and on edge.

It was working too—more than I cared to admit.

I closed my eyes and relived some of my more precious moments with Evie while I started to count in my head again.

That kept me distracted for another half hour, at least until my stomach reminded me of how long it had been since I’d eaten, twisting wickedly on itself and issuing an angry snarl. The sound pushed thoughts of Evie out of my head, reminding me where I was, and sent the chill racing through my body once more.

I’d almost given in to insanity, had my cries and shouts to request freedom ready on my tongue, when the door swung open behind me. I couldn’t see what was happening, the only sound was the whisper of breaths and the steady thump of three pairs of feet walking in sync. I twisted my head again, and around the corner of the chair saw three huge men carrying something between them enter the room.

They crossed to the center of the room. When they reached the table in front of me, they dumped the item they were carrying onto the cold, clinical surface.

Without another word, or any sound but their footsteps, they left again. I couldn’t watch them leave though, because my eyes were glued on the metal table.

On red hair and a dead-eyed stare.

On Evie’s battered and bloodied corpse.