Wicked Bite (Night Rebel #2)(39)

I let Silver go. He scrambled out of the nearest smashed-open window. The side door next to me suddenly tore free, revealing Ian. Blood dripped from multiple cuts as he bent to rip my seat belts off. He caught me before I fell out, ignoring my protests that I could walk. He refused to put me down until we were several meters from the smoking plane, which Ashael was now slowly crawling out of, too.

“This is your idea of her arriving here safely?” Ian asked in a blistering tone.

Ashael flicked a line of blood from his forehead once he was free from the wreckage. His cuts finished healing by the time he replied, “We’re all fine, are we not?”

With that, the plane caught fire. Ian gave it a pointed look before replying, “Oh, right as rain,” with scathing sarcasm.

Dammit, my luggage was about to burn! My head still rang from what had probably been a skull fracture, but I managed to pull a swath of water from the ocean and splash it onto the plane. The fire turned to smoke as the water doused the flames.

“Don’t!” Ashael said, sounding appalled.

“Salt water in the engine is the least of your concerns,” I replied, then stopped when all the water began streaming out of the plane and back into the ocean.

My eyes narrowed. Ashael wanted to play that game, huh? I pulled more water toward the plane, only to have it slam back down into the ocean so hard, it foamed.

“Stop it,” I snapped to Ashael.

He paled, which was odd. He was getting on my last nerve, but I would hardly slaughter him over a watery version of tug-of-war between siblings . . . wait, what was he looking at?

I followed Ashael’s gaze and saw something silver flash in the sea. Not a trick of the moonlight; its movements were too precise. It headed for shore, and the sea foamed in its path. Then that frothing part of the sea formed into a tall, humanoid shape that walked right out of the water to stand before us.

Oh, shit, I thought, staring at it. What are you?





Chapter 22


The creature stared back at me. Silver growled, edging away from it. The creature glanced at the Simargl, and then it looked back at me again. At once, its body changed until it formed into an exact replica of my appearance.

“What is it?” I whispered to Ashael.

It reminded me of a water nymph, but water nymphs were tiny creatures that required constant contact with liquid to survive. This thing had been a head taller than Ian before it formed into a watery version of me, and it stood on the beach without needing to be within reach of the surf.

“Leviathan.” Ashael’s voice was a rasp. “They guard these shores, and no one touches the waters without their permission.”

“That’s information that would have been helpful before,” I said through clenched teeth.

“How was I to know you’d break a cardinal rule within ten seconds of arriving?” Ashael shot back.

“Enough.” Ian extended his left arm. The horn straightened until it resembled a long, dark sword. The creature’s head swiveled toward Ian, and it smiled.

Ice coated my bones. If the grave could smile, it would look like that.

“Ian,” Ashael said without looking away from the creature. “The horn might work on everything else, but it won’t harm a Leviathan. Touch one of them, and you’ll drown forever.”

Okay, that sounded horrible. “How do I fix what I did to make it angry?” I asked Ashael in a low voice.

“Try apologizing and giving it an offering.” I didn’t like the new uncertainty in Ashael’s tone. He might annoy me by sounding like an imperious prick most of the time, but if the Leviathan made Ashael afraid, we should all fear.

“Do not skimp,” Ashael went on. “Leviathan are telepathic, so your offering has to be something very precious to you.”

I stared at the Leviathan as I began walking toward the smoking plane, my sharp gesture warning Ian not to follow me.

“I am truly sorry for trespassing on your domain,” I said as I reached inside the plane, using my hand instead of my gaze to find my luggage. Instinct told me that if I looked away from the creature, I’d regret it.

“It was a violation of your sovereignty,” I went on. “I ask forgiveness only because I committed my crime in ignorance. Please”—more blind reaching, cutting myself on the twisted metal and glass until I felt the smooth sides of my biggest suitcase—“accept this offering as a token of my regret.”

I pulled the suitcase out, kneeling to unzip it. I stayed in that supplicant pose as I felt around in it until my hand hit something large and hard. Slowly, I unwrapped the clothing I’d packed around the object to reveal the glittering bouquet of Faery Queen Crimsons I’d secretly brought with me.

Ian made a short, sharp sound. Now I was glad I had to keep my gaze solely on the creature. I didn’t want to see Ian’s face as I laid the magic-infused flowers at the Leviathan’s feet. The roses seemed to add the moonlight’s beams to their own blood-red radiance, shimmering as the Leviathan picked them up. It cocked its head at them in a very humanlike way, then it looked at me.

Leviathan are telepathic, so it has to be something very precious to you . . .

I let myself feel how badly I didn’t want to give up the only gift Ian had given me. I opened my memory of seeing the roses for the first time, touching their petals in wonder while pretending not to want them because I couldn’t bear for Ian to see how much I loved them. I also acknowledged the recklessness of taking them with me. If things took a wrong turn during our travels, I’d be caught red-handed with a magical object; something that could earn me an instant death sentence. But I hadn’t wanted to part with the roses. They reminded me too much of Ian—rare, surprising, dangerous, and oh-so beautiful . . .