Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

A deafening crack of thunder split the sky, making us flinch involuntarily. A light rain fell, pattering against the leaves and the porch roof. The air grew heavy with the scent of petrichor, the earthy aroma that often accompanied the first rain after a dry spell.

A profound silence descended upon us, broken only by the rhythmic drumming of the droplets against the wooden planks. The world seemed to hold its breath as if waiting for something momentous to happen. As the wind picked up, the flower pots swayed gently, and the chimes tinkled a haunting melody.

I kept turning over what Brody said about Zara, then broke the silence. "You consider Lisa part of the team?"

"I do. She's proven herself many times by helping the team and wanting to find her phoenix, Aurora, to help all my kind. Zara seems to want the Crown of Envy for her coven. There's something not right about that."

Justice and I glanced at each other. Brody was highly perceptive, and I trusted his judgment. He was all about saving people and working as a team. None of us, including Lisa, had our own private agenda. I hadn't even thought about Zara's reason for wanting the crown.

"So, you think we should be wary of her?" Justice asked.

Brody nodded. "I do. People with personal agendas tend to turn on their teammates to get what they want."

A cold chill ran down my back like a spider creeping over my flesh. I shuddered at having an enemy in our midst. The mirror had been in the Unseelie realm, and maybe it was tainted, so it wouldn't always pick the pure of heart to complete these tasks.

"We could be wrong about Zara," I pointed out. "She might prove to be a loyal team member."

"Maybe," Brody ventured, but his jaw locked tight.

Justice finished his last blood bag. "That creature was desperate for the jewel. I have a hunch we won't be the only ones trying to complete these tasks."

"Yes, the mirror said as much," Brody agreed. "We need to rely on each other. Our enemy is as desperate as we are to get the crown, or they wouldn't come out in the open like that. They won't hesitate to use any means possible to thwart us."

"That's a cheery thought," I mumbled. "But when has any task we've undertaken been easy?"

Brody looked at me. "Sawyer, how is your memory?"

I blinked. "What? Why do you ask?"

"You lost part of your memory when you retrieved the mirror. That could include your fighting skills. We need to know what you're capable of."

"I know how to fight."

"Before you went into the Unseelie realm, you were absolutely a skilled hunter," he mentioned. "But the Grimoire stole memories from you, and the team needs to know that you still possess those skills. If you don't, we have to figure out how to proceed."

His argument made sense, but it irritated me.

I folded my arms. "What do you want me to do?"

Brody got directly to the point. "Demonstrate your skills, starting with your bow and arrows."

I glanced at Justice. He gave me a sheepish look. "You don't remember your dad, and he's the one who taught you the skills."

I bristled at his statement. It was true. I remembered someone training me, but I couldn't put a face to them. I couldn't remember what my dad looked like or even his name, but I wasn't ready to dive into that. Proving I was a badass warrior woman was more important, not only for them but for me, too.

I stormed into the manor, my footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. The familiar scent of polished wood did nothing to calm my nerves as I headed to my bedroom. My fingers trembled as I reached for my bow, the smooth yew comforting under my touch. I slung the quiver over my shoulder, the weight of the arrows a reminder of a past I couldn't fully remember.

This was ridiculous. I knew how to shoot. It was like reliving my childhood, where I had to prove I was as capable as a boy at using a weapon. I frowned, but I couldn't remember who I'd had to impress. That was so strange. I sensed it had been really important to me, but I couldn't recall who. Guys in gym class? Maybe. Damon? Possibly. Or Dad? It could have been, but nothing came to mind. My slate was wiped clean.

As I turned to leave, Damon appeared in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. He moved toward me, his hand outstretched.

"Whoa there, little sister." His voice was gentle as he clasped my arm with a warm, grounding touch. "What's the matter? You've got that stormy look that could shatter glass."

I tried to brush past him, but Damon held firm. I sighed and met his worried gaze.

"Brody wants me to prove I can still handle weapons," I spat, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Damon's grip loosened, his expression softening. "Sawyer, you don't remember Dad?—"

"I know!" I cut him off sharply enough to make him flinch. Frustration bubbled inside me, threatening to spill over. "I know," I repeated, softer this time. "Everyone keeps reminding me."

I exhaled an angry breath, losing myself in the swirl of expectations. The bow in my hand suddenly felt alien, a relic of a life I couldn't fully recall.

"If you'll excuse me," I murmured, pushing past Damon.

He didn't try to stop me this time, but I felt his eyes on my back as I walked away. The concern in his gaze was like an anchor around my neck, adding another layer to my guilt and frustration.

By the time I returned to the porch, Brody had set up a target on a pine tree about twenty yards from the manor.

He stood out in the drizzling rain, his broad shoulders hunched against the chill, while Justice remained in the chair, his weakened state preventing him from joining us.

Damon sauntered up beside me, a smirk on his lips as he glanced at the distant target. "You can hit that blindfolded, Sawyer," he drawled.

I strode toward Brody, pulling an arrow from my quiver with a smooth, practiced motion. "From here," I stated, my voice steady and sure.

"To start," Brody replied.

I felt his eyes on me, evaluating my every move. I had a feeling that was why Damon was out here, too, since I couldn't remember Dad. His words and image were lost to me, leaving a hollow ache in my chest.

Damon stood beside me, his presence a comforting warmth in the cool, damp air. I nocked the arrow, my fingers curling around the bowstring as I raised the bow, my arm perfectly parallel to the ground. The familiar weight of the weapon in my hands felt like an old friend, and a sense of calm washed over me.

I drew a deep breath, focused on the target, and released the arrow. It zinged through the air, a deadly streak of silver, before stabbing the target dead center.

Damon clasped my shoulder, his calloused hand a reassuring weight. "At least you remembered something Dad taught you," he murmured.

"Let's see how far back you can go," Brody's tone was devoid of praise, his eyes still assessing.

I gritted my teeth, irritation flaring at his lack of acknowledgment. But I reminded myself that Brody had been in the Army, and the Army wasn't big on compliments. Especially after he'd been with Sector Nine, the division that hunted supernaturals and had been Justice's worst enemy.

Brody had me move back to thirty, forty, and fifty feet. Each time I hit the target dead center, the thwack of the arrow a satisfying sound in the rain-soaked air. I glanced at Justice, and he winked at me. The pride shining in his eyes made my heart swell.

Justice maneuvered to where we were standing, his movements careful and deliberate. "You do know the bow and arrows came from the Court of Blossoms, don't you, Brody?" he asked. "If it hadn't worked, something would have been terribly wrong."

"I know," Brody replied quietly, his brow furrowed. "From what I learned, the Unseelie realm is unpredictable, and I wanted to see if it left another mark on Sawyer besides stealing her memory of her father."

I scowled. "Do you think I'm going dark side?" My voice was sharp with defiance.

Brody shook his head, his expression softening. "No. But let's see what else you can do."

Damon whipped out a blade from the sheath on his belt, the metal gleaming in the muted light. "Sawyer was always excellent with a blade," he remarked with pride as he held the weapon toward me.

I extended my palm, my fingers twitching in anticipation. Damon placed the blade in my hand, the cool metal sending a shiver down my spine. Without thinking about it, I dropped into a lunge stance, my muscles coiling with tension. In one swift, fluid motion, I threw the blade, my eyes locked on the target. Like with the arrows, the blade found its mark, striking the center of the target with a satisfying thud.

I put my hands on my hips with a triumphant grin as I faced Brody. "Satisfied, Captain?" I asked with a playful challenge.

Brody smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I am," he admitted.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Lisa rushed out, her face pale and stricken. "Come in here quick," she urged in a tight voice. "The mirror is showing us something. Something's coming."

My heart leaped into my throat. I ran over to her, my pulse pounding in my ears. "What?" I demanded.

"A dragon," Lisa whispered.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My stomach churned with fear and adrenaline, but I pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. My mind raced, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Maci was coming, and I knew she wouldn't be coming alone. She must have an army of demons with her, their dark forces ready to descend upon us.

They were after the mirror, that much was clear, but fierce determination surged through me. We wouldn't hand it over without a fight.