Jac grabbed Belle’s arm, maybe harder than she should have. Anger flashed through her—once again, Belle was running straight into danger and Jac was the one who had to keep her from getting herself killed. It hadn’t been difficult, once they’d slipped outside Luvatha’s walls, to follow the sounds of battle out here. Somewhere in the distance was a haunting song and the snarling of Wolves, but the destroyed terrain and the strangely posed trees let them know where the fight had finished.

And Belle wanted to go skipping right in there.

She looked back at Jac, and argued, “It’s Daivad and Ben.”

Jac’s stomach sank. Did that mean Ubika was dead? That she would never get her chance to prove she wasn’t weak? “And where’s Soon-to-be-Sushi?”

On the other side of a few twisted trees, Jac heard Ben’s bass chuckle.

“He’s dead,” Daivad called as an answer. His hoarse voice was close. He stepped around one of the trees, steadying himself on the uneven earth with a hand on the trunk.

Mother Light, he had had a rough fight. Every inch of him was bloody and bruised—even his boots were torn up and leaking blood. Jac was surprised he was still standing, even if it was just barely. Predictably, his pale eyes were trained on Belle. Also predictably, Belle stared past him.

With a confused frown, Belle said, “No he’s not.”

Daivad spun as the sound of a half-growl, half-death rattle met Jac’s ears. She darted around the tree just as Ubika seized a dizzy-looking Ben by the dreadlocks. His maddened eye was slightly dislodged and blood leaked from his grin. His fucking head was half caved-in. Every breath he took was a wet wheeze. Kure reared back a handful of claws—

Jac reached for her hammer and Daivad scrambled toward them, shouting “No!”

Thunk.

No one seemed more surprised than Kure to suddenly find a curved blade buried nearly up to its grip in his chest. He frowned down at it before releasing Ben’s hair and letting him crash to the ground.

Kure, however, stayed standing. It only earned a waver from him before he took a step forward—and the next blade sunk into his throat. Kure choked, his mouth gasping desperately for air even though his lungs were surely filling with blood. Daivad staggered forward to grab Ben and hauled him to his feet, waiting for Kure to fall.

Kure took another step.

“Mother Dark,” Belle whispered, striding forward. Through her thin dress, Jac could see the rainbow glow of the swirling lines that adorned her sides.

“Careful,” Daivad growled.

She ignored him, wide eyes on Kure. She said something in the language of monsters, and whether the gaping of Kure’s mouth was his attempt to respond or just more futile gasps for air, Jac didn’t know.

“Just go down, silly boy,” Belle said gently before she tugged at the air and her knives leapt back to her hands, pristine as if she’d only just unsheathed them. Blood gushed down Kure’s front, the ever-lessening flow counting out the last few moments of his life like a morbid hourglass. Finally, his knees buckled and he crashed onto them. One last attempt to stay upright—and then he went down hard.

Jac’s hands burned. Belle had taken him down. But before she had time to process that, fear shot through Jac at a sound she couldn’t even really register. The strange wailing from the distance, but suddenly very different. And getting much closer. In a heartbeat Jac had Puissance in one hand and Belle in the other, every single hair on her body standing on end.

The beast cantered into view.

“The fuck is that?” Jac asked in a horrified whisper. She tried to take it all in—the glowing skin, the floating mane, the wet, weeping wounds all along its legs and hide, the massive fucking mouth.

“The most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” Belle answered, breathless with her hand to her heart, suddenly free of Jac’s grasp and wandering toward it. “My Mother … its magic.”

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At the same time, both Jac and Daivad said, “Nyxabella.”

The Wolves were right behind the beast, panting and limping, and they circled as the beast slowed to walk toward Kure’s body, mane billowing. The wail continued and all any of them seemed to be able to do was watch while the beast bowed its huge head to closely examine Kure’s body with its six red eyes. It nibbled Kure’s shoulder once again before settling smoothly onto its front knees.

Then, the enormous vertical mouth down its throat and chest opened, several sets of pincers within it unfurled and sunk into Kure’s body. Gradually, the pincers retracted and lifted Kure’s limp weight, and the beast swallowed the Selachian whole.

They all, including the Wolves, stared in shock.

No one moved. No one breathed. They just stared.

Until Daivad said, “…Fits the name.” At the looks on their faces, he explained, “Soon-to-be-Sushi.”

Belle broke all at once, laughing hard enough to make her snort. Daivad watched Belle with an awed look.

“Ay,” Jac said in a playfully irritated tone, “where was that laugh when I named him?”

Belle looked from her to Daivad and back—actually looking at them this time, not just the magic of the night. The giggles faded and her smile went self-conscious—it was still too dark to be sure, but Jac could imagine a blush warming Belle’s cheeks.

Something roiled in Jac’s belly. Maybe it hadn’t sounded as playful as she’d meant. Maybe she hadn’t meant it as playful as she’d thought. Her hands burned, and she didn’t know why.

“It was the timing,” Belle said, turning her attention back to the beast.

The monster’s call changed. Or rather, the wail that echoed around them, seeming to come from everywhere remained, but was joined now by a new sound, just as haunting, that came from the beast’s mouth. The normal one, on its muzzle. It was reminiscent of a horse’s whinny, but was at once both higher and lower in pitch, and accompanied by a faint clicking sound coming from deep in the beast’s throat. Jac absolutely hated it.

Belle approached the beast. Gently, it rested its translucent head, which was the size of Belle’s entire torso, at Belle’s feet. For a moment Jac thought the beast had yet another voice, but then she realized it was Belle speaking. Belle also lowered to her knees and Jac hissed an admonishment at her. Daivad tensed, but didn’t try to stop her.

Belle’s dust-covered blue dress pooled in front of the beast’s nose, and its nostrils snuffled at her. Their conversation went on for several minutes, until Belle looked at the gradually lightening sky. The trees around them had quieted, as if the curious monsters had finally realized it was bedtime. Belle drew the backs of her fingers up the beast’s nose and took a lock of flowing mane between two fingers for just a moment. Then she smiled, bowed so her forehead brushed the beast’s nose, and finally stood. The beast followed her up.

Belle let out one last string of monstrous sounds, then stepped back. Daivad’s hand twitched, but stayed at his side.

The beast snorted, bobbed its head, and then glided into the dying night and disappeared.

When it was gone, Jac said, “Someone want to explain that?”

“Her name is Whiskey,” Belle said dreamily, eyes shining with tears. “Mother, is she not the most beautiful creature you’ve—?”

“No,” Jac said, flat. “Look, what was that thing, an omen, naming the date of my death within the next moon or something? Am I cursed now? Because I feel cursed.”

Belle snickered. “She’s not a death omen. She was Kure’s friend.”

“Right, that’s why she ate him,” Jac said, dry.

“Yeah.” Belle spoke without a fleck of irony.

“What? No, Belle, that’s not ‘Yeah.’”

Belle wrinkled her freckled nose in confusion. “What?”

“Why did the hellhorse eat her friend?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Belle waved a hand. “But I’d guess it’s what he wanted. She loved him. I told her I was sorry it was my blade that ended his life—I liked him. His magic!” A shiver went through her, eyes wide. “Like a mass of broken glass in a million colors. Vicious, but pure. Can you imagine what it must have looked like in his fully shifted form? But Whiskey named me Great, as the warrior that killed him—she said something about carrying my name through the water in the sky? And serving me? I’m not sure—I could feel the weight of the words, even without knowing everything inside them.”

Jac blinked. And then said, “O...kay.”

“Did she give any name to the two who spent the whole night wearing him down?” Daivad asked, gesturing between himself and Ben. “Or the Great Wolves who held her at bay while we did?”

Without looking at him, Belle just said, “Nope,” and strode toward the limping Drauge, already tracing healing runes.

It was satisfying to watch Daivad deflate, staring after Belle, but not so satisfying that it could soothe the angry itch in her hands, the need to do damage. Jac couldn’t be angry at Belle, but she could sure as hell be angry at Daivad. Maybe it would help if she could watch him deflate a little more.

Jac strode up to Daivad, beaten to a pulp and still staring after Belle. She tapped him on one enormous shoulder, and he looked around. She didn’t call up any of her practice—she was afraid to—but that didn’t matter. Jac knew how to throw a normal, non-magical punch better than most, and her normal, non-magical strength was more than adequate.

Her knuckles met one of those prominent cheekbones, and he was out.