Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame E.C. Farrell (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📖

a moment, her ribcage expanding and deflating with heavy breaths. The tendons along her arms and jaw stand out. A gust of damp wind lifts the strands of her dark hair away from her face. My head swims with each terrified pound of my heart.

Then Brynn’s wings fold in, and her horns fade. “I’ll admit you have a point.” She cracks her knuckles with a thumb. “Are you in contact with Hank, phoenix?”

Still hovering out of her reach, I nod. “He’s been helping us keep the bounty hunter’s guild in the dark while we try to find Max’s mom.”

“Ask him to meet us,” Brynn says. “If I can confirm your story with him, I’ll do what I can to help you find Aline.”

WE WAIT FOR HANK AT a local coffee shop not far from the motel. Though nowhere near as good as Cafe Du Monde, their dark roast isn’t half bad, though it does require a healthy serving of heavy cream to hide a funny aftertaste I can’t quite nail down.

Uncharacteristically quiet, Max sits between Brynn and me, sucking down his third bottle of water. I drag my focus away from his shadowed face and scan the occupants of the patio tables around us. Old or young, well-dressed or shabby, none of them can resist casting a glance at our slightly strange group.

Though no longer sporting her horns and wings, Brynn’s size alone draws attention. My guess is that most of these folks aren’t used to encountering someone who looks like she belongs both walking a runway and smashing heads in the octagon.

One little girl with pigtails and wearing a Wonder Woman t-shirt “whispers” to her mom about the lady in the corner being a superhero. I don’t even attempt to cover up a laugh. Even Brynn smiles. She winks at the kid, who immediately giggles.

“I bet you get that a lot,” I say, fiddling with the coffee sleeve.

“Sometimes.” Brynn squeezes honey into her tea. “Other times kids are terrified.”

I run a finger along my lower lip. “That happens to Hank too. Which works well for bartending and bouncing, but kind of sucks otherwise.”

“Assumptions,” Max says, spinning the water bottle cap on the table, his words slurring. “People are good at those. They’re easier ...”

I lift my brows, waiting for the end of that sentence. If he’d planned to finish it, however, he doesn’t get the chance before Hank pulls into the parking spot closest to our group. The gargoyle climbs out of his tiny car with a most stern look on his face.

It’s shockingly similar to the expression the grumpy cat on his t-shirt is making.

Smirking, Brynn stands, fists on her hips. “Afternoon, Hank. Still on your perch at Guidry’s?”

Hank crosses his arms so grumpy cat’s face is warped. “Brynn. Still haven’t settled on one yet?”

“The world is my perch.” Brynn winks, then jerks her head in my direction. “Is what this one says true? You’re helping her clear Max’s name?”

“If we can,” Hank says.

Brynn narrows her eyes, not necessarily a suspicious look, but not a friendly one either. Her gaze cuts to me. I dig my nails into my palms. If for some reason she decides not to trust Hank, he can definitely defend us, but the last thing we need is a scene. Plus, one good hit from her could potentially break my spine. I so do not have time for that.

Keeping perfectly still, I glance around, marking out a retreat. I’m close enough to Max to grab him. He’s weak, but he still might be able to travel us far enough to not have to fight. And, if all else fails, I think I have enough energy to carry him in my talons. Hank will understand.

“Good enough for me,” Brynn finally says.

My shoulders relax. “Thank the fates. Does that mean you’re going to help us make contact with Aline?”

Brynn huffs. “Give me a little time. I’ll see what I can do.”

Hank sits with Max and me as Brynn steps away to make her call. As the afternoon wears on, the coffee crowd thins out. Only a young woman with massive headphones and a stack of textbooks now sits outside, and she pays us absolutely no attention. Based on the fact that I can hear faint strains of her music, she probably can’t hear us at all.

Unless it’s a witch charm meant to hide her more paranormal parts.

I’ll have to keep an eye on her, and our conversation quiet. Resting my elbows on the black, metal table, I lean in toward Hank. Too many questions crowd my brain. Anxiety forces every thought to rush by far too quickly. I need to lay it all out for him so he can see it from top to bottom and give me advice. But we don’t have time. I’ll have to wait for things to settle, for a moment of quiet.

Instead, I narrow my focus, and ask, “Any update on Camp?”

Hank strokes his beard. “Mostly just confirmation that the bounty price has been made public and raised so every hunter close by is coming after it. I put the fear of the gargoyles into Camp, then sent him on his way. It might be enough, but some hunters will risk anything for a big enough payout.”

I tap my fingers against my chin. “Especially if a member of the Tribunal is behind it.”

“Isn’t that kind of thing frowned on?” Max asks. “Going after somebody else’s mark?”

“Frowned on, but not technically against our code,” I say. “It’s also more acceptable if the bounty’s been made public. Which is probably what happened with your mom since she’s been so hard to find.”

Max spins his water bottle cap. “So, we have a crap ton of highly trained magic users and paranormal creatures after us. And we ran from the drop. Cool, cool, cool.”

Tension hardens into a ball in my throat, but I fake a grin. “Is that all? I thought things were going to get complicated and dangerous.” I click my tongue