I moved to join my parents, teetering lightly—but mostly from exhaustion at that point.

My father eyed me with concern. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah, she’s just being a baby.” Zach followed me into the living room. “Big Bird got the best of ya tonight, didn’t he?”

I shot him a glare and eased onto the couch. My muscles sighed with relief as I sank into the cushions.

“Lyra enjoyed her first snatch-n-fly tonight, didn’t you, sis?” Zach smiled.

“Are you okay?” my mother asked.

“Oh, she’s totally great.” Zach leaned a hand nonchalantly on the back of Uncle Alan’s chair. “She and birdie even went swimming together!”

If my knives had still been attached to my leg, they would’ve gone flying. I kept my eyes locked on my smirking sibling, glaring the daggers I couldn’t throw, while I explained to my horrified parents. “We’d hit the target multiple times, and I thought it was eradicated, but it bounced back and caught me off guard. It was the biggest redbill I’ve ever seen.”

My parents tried to stay stoic, but they exchanged a glance. Zach’s grin faded, and his eyes darkened. Uncle Alan wrung his hands.

“I need to get to bed,” I said, breaking the sudden quiet I’d created.

“The Scottish ogre is calling us in at 4 AM,” Zach said, stretching his arms toward the ceiling.

“Special summons in D.C., apparently,” I added, rising from the couch.

My mother sighed. “It’s always something these days.”

“Get plenty of rest, you two,” Uncle Alan said.

I smiled again—entirely for my parents’ sake this time. They suddenly looked fragile… older than I’d ever seen them, and so much smaller than they did when addressing soldiers and coworkers at the Bureau.

I steadily lumbered down the hall to my bedroom. The mere sight of my bed was pure bliss. The weight of the day had finally taken over. I was thankful that the ache from my leg had started to quiet.

Too exhausted to change, I slid into bed in my uniform fleeces. I’d had to sleep in much less comfortable uniforms, that was for sure.

But I didn’t sleep. All I could manage was staring at the ceiling, counting the circles of my ceiling fan and listening to the nighttime hums of our residence. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the redbill’s claws wrapped around my body, saw the dark feathers looming as I tilted my head back… and all I could hear was my mother’s protest. Papers and signatures aren’t more important than human lives…

I didn’t know exactly what I’d overheard in the living room, but something didn’t feel right.

Darklight Chapter 3

Our seats vibrated as the chopper carried us over the still-sleeping territory below. The tiny window behind my head offered only dimly lit veins of highways and the deep violet and bronze of sunrise.

We’d transferred off the Bureau plane outside of D.C. and would only be in the chopper for a few more minutes. The team was in our usual circle, though somewhat cramped in the smaller aircraft, listening silently as Captain Bryce gave us the rundown. His tone was sharp—even at six o’clock in the morning.

“We’ll split into three teams once we reach our destination,” Bryce barked. “All three teams will be on the ground; Teams A and B will enter the site, and Team C will be posted outside the church. Team C—Sarah, Grayson, that’s you. If anything comes in or out of that church, it’s your problem.”

I glanced around, finding most eyes glued tensely to the chopper’s floor. Grayson’s knee was bouncing.

“Team B. Zach, Colin, Roxy, Louise, Greta. You will split into groups, enter the church from the west windows and main door, and cover the first floor.” Bryce pulled on his gloves as he walked around the circle. “You will not leave that floor unless I tell you to. Only necessary use of comms inside the site. I shouldn’t hear more than a mouse fart in my earpiece. I’ll be on the floor with you, so any chitter-chatter will answer to me—and I promise you’d prefer the redbill.”

We rarely had the captain on the ground with us. Sweat dampened my palms, and I hadn’t even heard my station’s details yet.

“Team A.” Bryce paused to clear his throat, his icy eyes glancing down momentarily. “Gina, Lyra. You two will enter through the east wall’s window. The site has multiple levels, and you will be the first to head up. Silence is golden, lassies.”

I nodded, holding Bryce’s gaze. Gina sat to my left, and I watched her hands clench.

“The main floor is somewhere around thirty-thousand square feet,” our captain continued. “We haven’t placed the target yet, so step lightly. Redbills’ sense of hearing isn’t nearly as sharp as their eyesight, which is why I’m permitting an airdrop. But don’t take anything for granted once we’re in a closed space.”

The head pilot’s voice came through our earpieces. “Three minutes to site.”

“Three minutes and fifteen seconds to drop,” Bryce replied into his comm.

Zach cracked his knuckles from across the circle.

“Once we locate our target, you know what to do.” Bryce tightened his artillery belt. “Safeties off when your little feet hit the ground. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain,” the entire crew resounded loudly.

Bryce moved to the cockpit. Our comms were silent. He’d turned them off, but I could see his lips moving rapidly as he gesticulated to the pilots.

For the short time until the drop, our eyes remained locked on the tips of our boots. No one said a word. The droning of the chopper intensified, and my stomach lurched as the craft descended. I closed my eyes. Breathe. At least my thigh was feeling much better than last night. The rest had done it a lot of good.

I glanced up briefly in the silence and caught Zach looking at me. His mouth formed a small smile. He winked.

“Line up, children,” Bryce snapped, returning from the cockpit. “Look alive, why don’t ya?”

The group bolted from their seats, the sound of our steps blending with the chopper’s hum. Gina and I locked eyes, then shoulders. We made our way to the open door. The tops of trees became clearer in the now-pale-violet morning light.

The church came into view from the doorway, just to the north. Its spire had shattered; what remained was a spike of pale gray wood pointing at the sky. The shingles were scattered about the roof, some stacked together like forgotten piles of papers. The air battered my cheeks. The thrumming of the blades above battered my eardrums.

“Thirty seconds to drop!” Bryce’s voice bit through my earpiece.

I looked over my shoulder. The teams were paired and lined up behind us, facing the exits. I braced my weapon tightly against my side.

“Ten seconds!” the captain shouted behind me.

The main doors of the church were visible below, and the chopper now hovered in place just behind the trees encircling the building. Someone dropped the two lines on each side of the doorway, and they slithered down toward the ground.

Gina reached over and gripped my arm for a split second.

“Drop, teams!”

Sucking in a breath, I crouched alongside Gina, gripping my line, and the chopper floor disappeared from beneath my feet. Weightlessness overtook me. The rushing air blurred my sight, and the friction of the line whizzing through my gloves warmed their damp fabric.

Treetops surged closer, then branches, trunks—ground—

Gina and I hit the soil in tandem. We dropped our lines and stepped away silently, unlocking the safeties on our guns and moving into position. My peripheral vision showed the other teams landing behind us and filing toward the church. The building’s walls may have been painted once, but all that remained were thin streaks of gray on the rotting wooden boards. It was taller than I’d expected, its roof reaching far above us amongst the treetops.