CHAPTER 16

H ands on my hips, I studied the wide assortment of weapons scattered on the bed. Knives, guns, studded knuckles, and more. All of them were magicked for concealment thanks to a witch Gray picked up in Disney World—she’d magicked our weapons in exchange for park tickets, which somehow turned into an entire vacation endeavor for the three of us. It was one of the weirdest weeks of my life, but May was cool in her dance-naked-in-the-moonlight kind of way.

I couldn’t bring everything with me. The thought of doing so was ridiculous. But what was the best combination? I wanted to steer clear of guns. That was the best course of action, even if I was most comfortable with one in my hand and on my hip. In a club full of people, the last thing I needed was widespread panic from gunfire.

“Okay, look,” Tessa began as she let herself into the motel room, “I need you to know that I got pulled over trying to get this thing.”

My gaze flicked her direction, watching her throw a green duffel bag on the bed for me. My Army bag . Shit, how long had it been since I’d seen that thing. Or even thought about it?

“I didn’t ask you to speed,” I reminded her. “I just asked you to grab my duffel—”

“Jesus Christ, Ryder!” she exclaimed when she looked up. “Put on some pants.”

“I have pants on.”

“At least button your pants.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to knock,” I said but buttoned them anyway. “What happened with the cop?”

“I may have used my power to get his sympathy for the poor mom rushing home to bring her baby formula,” she told me. She did what now?

“Tess!”

“What? I didn’t have time for a speeding ticket.”

“Jesus fuck.” I shook my head. Only Tessa. “Tell me you don’t do shit like that often.”

“I don’t. I promise.” Well, at least there was that. “Why did you need your bag?”

That was a loaded question. Crossing the room, I grabbed my bag and set it on the dresser. The bag was full of shit I didn’t need anymore—memories I wanted nothing to do with. I planned to burn it all as soon as I had the chance. Or maybe I’d have Tessa and Jake do it for me.

However, I couldn’t deny that one thing inside the bag would be useful. My dog tags.

“There’s a pattern,” I said as I took them out. Despite how light I knew the tags were, they were heavy as fuck in my hand. And even heavier around my neck.

“We didn’t find a pattern.”

“Look again,” I said. “All the victims are men under forty. They’re young. They’re virile—”

“ God, no. ” She visibly shuddered, and her disgust rolled over my skin.

“What is wrong with you?” I demanded .

“I don’t want to ever think about Mal or Gray in that way,” Tessa replied. “Or you for that matter.”

“Jesus fuck,” I muttered and ran a hand over my face. Only my sister. “Tess, it means they’d be good targets for harvesting life energy from.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense. But why do you need your dog tags?” she asked. Quietly, she added, “I honestly never thought I’d see you wear those again.”

That made two of us.

“It’s an easily identifiable way to explain vigilant behavior,” I explained while pulling a t-shirt on. The tight spread across my shoulders left an outline of my tags on my chest. The sight was odd in the mirror. “A civilian who keeps an eye on everything is questionable. That’s usually identified as criminally suspicious behavior. But when someone in the military does so… it’s observant. I need them to think I’m just a hyper-aware soldier. The last thing I need is the focus on me while I try to stalk a siren—which is to say, I’m about to go into a strip club to stalk a fucking stripper.”

It wasn’t lost on me just how fucked up that would look like from the outside. The less attention I drew to myself, the better. At least my behavior had an explanation this way.

“Ryder,” Tessa began softly, and I glanced at her. “Can you handle this? Honestly?”

“I can kill a siren,” I said, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what she meant.

“The club will be full of people,” she elaborated. “That’s a lot of… variables for you. What if—”

“Don’t say it.”

“It needs to be said!”

“No, it fucking doesn’t,” I snapped. “I’m not going to lose control. I can do this.”

The words were more for me than for her.