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

and the third Amazon. Even she can’t argue with a plan as solid as the one we’ve just stitched together in a matter of minutes. We exchange numbers, agree on the best place to land in Memphis, then separate into our groups, Brynn dwarfing the other two women.

Laurien presses her palms into Hank’s and my shoulders, mumbling a quiet spell. And then we’re sliding through time and space toward Tennessee once again. Shapes blur, mixing with light and color, the air zips across my skin, and my stomach performs clunky cartwheels.

Frankly, I prefer the smooth grace of water travel, even if this is a lot faster.

We plop down in an alley a few streets away from the Tribunal building. A grubby cat scurries behind a dumpster, startled by our sudden arrival, and a group of flies swarm the pile of garbage, but no other living being appears to notice us. Humidity intensifies the heat thickening the air, almost worse than Shreveport.

Already dripping with sweat, I jog to the sidewalk and peek around one of the walls to get my bearings. The five o’clock flow fills the streets, a river of men and women buttoned up in business attire and wearing tight, often shadowed expressions. A cacophony of car horns and screeching tires drowns out any conversation I might be able to overhear from this position.

I scan the sidewalks for a few moments before nodding. “Okay, so since none of us has actually met Iris Smith for more than a few minutes, we obviously can’t scry on her, so unless either of you has a better idea, we’re just going to have to start by harassing her at work.”

“Coming up dry,” Laurien says. “That sounds like our best option at the moment.”

Hank rubs one of the tattoos on his forearm, a skull with an intricately painted face. “Even if she’s not there, someone who works with her might be able to help. You might even be able to pick something up from her office if you can get in there. Lead the way, Fee.”

Digging the tips of my fingers into the brick wall, slightly high on Hank’s praise, I cast one more look down the street, then start toward the Tribunal Building. We weave in and out between clumps of twenty-somethings and couples, their presence slowing me down so my skin crawls with impatience.

Shuffling my shoes to resist the urge to break into a run and call unnecessary attention to us, I study every face, inspect every expression. Dizziness throws me off course as I sweep my gaze up to the rooftops around us, to windows and open doorways. An attack at this hour of the day in front of such a large crowd is unlikely, but I can’t quiet the anxiety chattering through me.

That happens to a girl after multiple attacks within such a short amount of time.

Deep green eyes meet mine. Warmth whooshes through me and my body stops obeying orders. Smooth and steady, it walks me right off the sidewalk and into another alley, thoroughly convinced this is a brilliant decision. Paranoia fights back, sends warning prickles up my neck and clears out the haze swarming my thoughts.

I wrestle control away from the opposing force, springing sideways just in time to avoid a charging vampire. Fangs bared, she spins on a dime, swiping her claws at me. A massive hand catches her wrist as I throw up an arm to block the attack. Wings out, Hank hauls her off her feet, grumbling a growl in his throat.

Movement over his shoulder catches my attention. I dart around him, driving a shoulder into the midsection of Isaiah-freaking-Camp. Barely able to keep my footing under his weight, I shove off the cement with all my strength, forcing him against the alley wall as hard as I possibly can.

An oof shoots out of Camp’s mouth. I keep close and low, this proximity making it difficult for him to knee or kick me. It doesn’t protect me from elbows or fists though. Both rain down on my back the second Camp gasps in a full breath.

I slam my knuckles into his stomach, then morph into phoenix form, using my wings to sweep away from him and screeching in his face.

A force full of magic hits me from the left. I careen sideways, twisting around to face a third attacker, a man with a close-cut beard and ears sharp at the tips like mine. Another fae. And based on the force of his power, a high fae. He winds up for another blast, but Laurien jumps in front of him. His magic deflects off her shield spell.

Still tangling with the vampire, Hank snatches Camp by the shirt collar and flings him across the alley. He then turns his head over a shoulder. “Go. Get to Iris. We’ll catch up.”

I squawk in protest, but the countdown clock in my head wins out. With no way of knowing exactly where Yaritza plans to meet Iris, I could already be too late, Max could already be dead. But I can’t leave Hank and Laurien to deal with these rival bounty hunters without a little leg up.

Sparking fire from the tips of my wings, I fly a circle around the group. My flames burn the vampire, Camp, and the high fae before I soar into the sky, hoping to disappear in the light of the setting sun, the haze of puffy clouds. With humanity’s propensity not to look up — particularly when cell phones are involved — I’m probably safe.

I reach the Tribunal Building quickly, landing behind a set of thick bushes to shift back into my human form, then sprinting toward the front. In theory, I could attempt to get in a window, but chances are they have them magically shielded. Better off trying to get in through the front door.

Slowing as I reach the marble steps, I study the security situation around the entrance. The last thing I want is to get held up by some