anticipate the lives of, to thinking she had any right to touch Lincoln. I'm not sure I like who I am for it, but I am sure that when I'm able to make Cordelia bleed, I'll be smiling while I do it.
Sand clouds in the air as we kick through it. I can taste it on my lips as it scratches down my throat with every breath. Still, it’s better than the drowning that will consume us soon. There is more warmth here than in the waters closer to Anastasia and her hodgepodge castle, but it still chases a shiver of cold inside of me. Little pinpricks of cold dot over my skin as I wade into the ocean. It sprays over my clothing when the waves crash against me, but I still push through. Lincoln's at my side, his face remains solemn.
The ocean’s waves become broken by the men who scream into the night, splashing their way into the waters. Some dive head first, some run until they can't touch the ground anymore. They all tread water as they watch us.
When our feet can hardly touch the rocky bottom, he looks at me, extending his hand. "We go down together."
"Together."
With his hand held tightly in mine, we dive under the water, encouraging our bodies to sink in the swell. Many of the bandits disappear under the surface with us. Our bodies are pulled in with the current. Small bubbles of air escape from our clothing and run up our skin. My hair floats around me.
Opening my eyes, salt stings along my lashes. Lincoln watches me right back. Breathe. We think. And as foolish and terrifying as it feels, we open our mouths and suck in a deep breath. Fighting our natural instincts to survive is much easier when we know what’s just on the other side.
Water rushes up as our bodies are suddenly pulled down. Fire travels down my throat, flames licking my lungs. My vision goes dark, the sudden feeling of falling surrounding me, even as the sea clings to me. Everything moves in slow motion, slinking by us. But it also moves so fast, that never in a million years, even with my Fae abilities would I be able to reach out and stop it.
Nothing stops magic, I'm sure. Nothing is going to stop me.
No evidence of our waterlogged journey holds onto our clothes or our bodies. Not even the strands of our hair are flattened to our faces. A blaze still burns inside my chest, and when I cough liquid comes up with it.
But I'm able to sit up, to evaluate our surroundings. And they look familiar. The flowing wisps of the Reminints tree's branches brush against the perfectly manicured lawn below it. Colorful flowers bloom against bright green bushes. Behind that, the tall walls of the brown mansion rise up.
The soft grunt of pain and the wet slurp of a blade being pulled from flesh catches and replays in my ears. I twist in the grass. Barnabus wipes his sword against the pants of a guard, who spills blood from the gushing wound on the side of his neck. Red drips down his bare chest as he slumps to the ground.
"I’m assuming this is the castle you wish to have pillaged?" He lifts a brow.
"It is." And I stand up with the many members of his crew. Each of them pull some sort of weapon from their waist. Even Ellie is not empty handed.
"If you'll drop your mental barriers, I'll show you images of who is against us and who is for us." Lincoln says softly, looking around the gardens for more guards. Barnabus's kill had been quiet as he'd likely taken the guard by surprise, but that didn't mean that someone couldn’t be walking their rounds out here soon, or spot us from one of the many windows.
The leader nods, and Lincoln closes his eyes to concentrate. He shows them images of Cordelia, her evil grin and the seductive curve of her body. Her picture is laced with hate and dread. He shows them other images too. Some bad... like Bellion and Kai. Then he shows them who we wish to protect... Jase, Zeve, and Lylix. He doesn't mention Rowan and somehow that feels like an acceptance of his death. Maybe it is...
When he's done, Lincoln opens his eyes. We share a breath. We share a heartbeat. He steps toward me, brushing his fingers down the side of my face, watching the curve of