Sisters Red

by Jackson Pearce

  Run, Rosie. You're the only one who can save yourself.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  SCARLETT

  YOU READY FOR THIS?" I ASK SILAS. ONE HOUR TO go before the exchange. We'll have to leave shortly.

  "To lose Rosie and possibly my soul?" Silas shakes his head and manages a halfhearted grin. "Not exactly."

  "But are you?" I say seriously.

  Silas stands. "I'm ready."

  He grabs his ax, straps knives to his waist. I sharpen the edge of my hatchet, throw my cloak over my head, and pick up Rosie's knife belt for good measure. One of the three of us is bound to need two extra knives. I hope it's Rosie.

  She will make it out alive. My sister is the priority. I will save Silas, I will fight for Silas, but if I must, I'll take my sister and go. I have to protect her. I don't tell Silas, but I'm sure he knows--and I'm sure he'd tell me my priorities are in

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  order. Partners know each other like that. Yet some wicked part of me is still furious with him. If he didn't love her, they wouldn't have taken her. If she didn't love him, she might have been able to focus on stopping the wolves instead of pining for Silas.

  If Rosie were like me, she would be safe.

  If she were filled with the same obsession, the same need to avenge Oma March's death and a body of scars, the same drive to stop the wolves at any sacrifice, she would be safe.

  Would Silas's death be the thing that makes Rosie focus? If they take him from her, would the hunt become her passion, the way it is mine?

  Probably. For a glimmer of a moment, I allow myself to imagine Rosie and me hunting together without Silas. My sister and I, side by side, equally driven, undistracted and unrelenting. A flicker of wanting shoots through me.

  I shake my head. Focus, Scarlett, I snap at myself as guilt fills my mouth, masking the taste of anger on my tongue. Forget that. Saving Rosie is the priority, not your anger, not Silas, not revenge against the Arrow pack, not the Potential. Rosie.

  We descend the stairs, trying to hide the fact that both pairs of hands tremble in nervous fear. I throw open the door, hoping I look more confident than I feel, and we take to the night.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Rosie

  I feel them lurking behind me, closing in, even though when I look back I don't see them. My lungs are full of smoke, but adrenaline yanks me onward. I finally begin to see signs of life--hoboes and the occasional car with hydraulics rocking down the street. Can't they hear the howling? Don't they know they're in danger?

  I can't keep running. I can feel the burn blisters on my legs popping, and the wet skin underneath stings as wind reaches it. The bottom of my cloak is singed and barely reaches my lower back now, and my throat is dry and pleading for water. I can't outrun them. Maybe they'll lose my scent--I slog through as many puddles as I can as I cut through alleys and parking lots, but I have to stop soon. The wolves' howls are growing fainter, but it's hard to tell if they're far away or if

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  the metallic skyscrapers between us are merely muffling their cries. In the distance I can see the cupola that perches on top of our apartment. Go there? Now? Where else?

  I see one of the boarded-up apartment buildings ahead, and I know the lot where Silas and I first kissed is beyond it. I duck under a rotted fence, ignoring the No Trespassing sign, and cut through the apartment's ancient courtyard, over a crumbling fountain and between long-dead hanging plants. Yes, finally. My feet force me to slow even as my mind urges me onward. Something about knowing I can slip beneath the fence, cross the street, and be back in the apartment convinces me it's safe to slow down. Breathe. You're safe. I slink between rusted cars, panting heavily and ignoring the furious barks of the junkyard dogs nearby.

  And then I hear them.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  SCARLETT

  I WOULD RECOGNIZE A SINGLE SOUND FROM MY sister's lips in a crowd of thousands. Which is how I know when we open the apartment door that the smallest, tiniest whimper the wind carries to our ears is hers. I signal to Silas and we hurry to the edge of the abandoned lot, like my sister's spirit is reeling us toward her. We peer through the grasses and chain-link fence.

  Her back is to us, the remains of her charred cloak fluttering in the wind. Her legs, usually creamy and pale, are covered in burn blisters, and there's a bandanna wrapped around her head, tangling her long hair in its knot and covering one eye.

  She looks like me.

  A sound escapes from my throat, something between a plea and a cry of joy that, at the very least, my sister is alive.

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  Pride swells beneath fear as I realize she must have escaped on her own, but now the Fenris are closing in on her, backing her toward the fence that Silas and I crouch behind. Her hands don't tremble like they usually do when she's nervous, and I can feel her breathing slowly, trying to focus. Good job, Rosie. Why did I expect any less? She's a hunter.

  The Alpha takes a step toward my sister, his eyes deep ocher and raging like darkened flames. The other wolves--not the full pack, but at least a dozen--cluster behind him, pawing at the ground like racehorses readying for their starting gates to spring. The dog next door howls furiously and throws himself against the fence. Apart from the dog and the heavy breathing of the wolves, the street is eerily silent. Even the street corners are empty, as though the junkies ran off like townspeople before a Western showdown.

  "Lett," Silas whispers, tensing. It's not a warning but a question--Silas knows that a plan is already running through my head, building like a snowball rolling downhill.

  "There are three of us again," I mutter, counting the wolves behind the Alpha.

  "We can take them. We've fought nearly this many before."

  "You can't get bitten. The Alpha is with them, and he wants you."

  "You know what to do if it happens," Silas says seriously. I meet his eyes for a moment, and he grabs my hand and squeezes it. In unison, we break our stare and slide through the fence opening.

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  The wolves' eyes dart to us in one motion, as though they're a single organism. We emerge from the long grasses and stride to my sister's side. She smiles weakly, torn between happiness and fear.

  "I'm sorry, Scarlett," she whispers. "They jumped me, they held me prisoner, I didn't know what to do, and I didn't think you'd come, even if you knew they had me..."

  Her words slice through me. The other half of my heart thought I wouldn't come for her? I bite my tongue, afraid I'll say too much. I pass my sister the belt with her knives, which she takes without looking at me. Silas's and Rosie's fingers fumble for one another. The Alpha inhales anxiously, watching Silas with such eagerness that it's almost tangible in the air. The wolves smell of smoke and gasoline, so much so that it makes my eye water.

  "They had you because of Silas, Rosie. You were bait for him," I say meaningfully.

  "For Silas...? Why..." Rosie says, voice frail. I don't explain more, but I don't need to--she understands what I'm trying to tell her. She gasps for air and looks as though she might collapse, but then she grabs Silas's hand and pulls him toward her protectively.

  "I'm sorry, Rosie," Silas murmurs into her hair. "I didn't--"

  "It's a mistake," Rosie says, shaking her head and speaking through gritted teeth. "It has to be a mistake." Her face is magnolia white with fear, but her eyes are furious, demanding Silas or me to confirm her hope--that it's all a

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  misunderstanding. That the one she needs isn't also the one the wolves need.

  Silas shakes his head, and his eyes fill with pain, pity, love; he so wants to be able to tell her that he's not the Potential. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His silence is more telling than words and cements Rosie's worst fear. My sister allows a single wounded noise to erupt from her throat and then entwines her fingers into his shirt. Rosie leans up and kisses Silas fiercely, as if her mouth contains the oxy
gen he needs to survive. He wraps his arms around her tightly, as though they're holding each other to the earth. I lose track of who is holding whom.

  It's Silas's fault Rosie was held prisoner. Silas's fault she almost died. The anger at Silas that has been brewing in me was so unrelenting, so powerful, just a few minutes ago. The secret thought that if Silas is to die, Rosie would be safe. She would be a hunter again. We would be together again, in the way we were before she loved him.

  But watching them kiss, I shift my anger to the pack of wolves in front of us. How dare they try to take him away from Rosie? How dare they try to turn her into something like me? I grind my teeth and turn my focus back to the pack. My sister deserves him. She deserves love, even if I can't have it. I won't let them take him away from her.

  "Just don't let them touch him, Rosie," I mutter firmly, my words breaking apart their kiss. I breathe deeply to prevent my desire to destroy the Fenris from ravaging me.

  Rosie exhales and steps away from Silas, teeth gritted and

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  a steely look in her eyes, as if she's shelved her pain for the time being. "Not a chance," she answers fiercely.

  There's a swift crunch to my left as the Alpha transforms into a wolf that's enormous even for a Fenris. He ignores my sister and me, pacing in front of Silas and licking his black lips longingly. The Alpha, the goal of all of this, the reason I came to the city, is so close.

  It's so simple, really. I came to kill the Alpha. So I will.

  "Go," I whisper under my breath. The wolves hear me, their ears prick up, but they don't react to my words before Silas, Rosie, and I do. I throw myself in front of Silas at the Alpha.

  He knocks me aside as though I'm a paper doll. Blood vessels pop, wolves growl, dust flies. I spring back to my feet just as the Alpha leaps toward Silas. My hatchet snags for a moment around my cloak, so I plunge the blade into the Alpha's side with my cloak wrapped around it. The blow severs a piece of the fabric and sinks in between the Alpha's ribs, but he brushes the injury off, his eyes maniacally focused on Silas. Rosie darts past me and I hear her knives whistling through the air. There are too many wolves--she won't have a weapon now that she's thrown them.

  "Rosie!" I yell through the air. She whirls around just as I toss my hunting knife to her. It lands squarely in her hand, and she immediately turns to lash it out toward one of the Fenris. I spin back and lunge out again, a wolf's breath hot on my face, teeth grazing my ear. Silas is darting back and forth, avoiding the wolves' jaws before he

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  brandishes his ax at them with more strength than even I knew he possessed.

  A wolf approaches his other side, but Rosie kills it, then another--were there truly only a dozen? There seem to be so many more now. I look to my left and see the Alpha bounding toward Silas again. I jump in the wolf's way, preparing for him to knock me aside, and charge toward his chest. The Alpha is caught off guard and spins away from me. I charge back, but he narrowly avoids the swings of my hatchet. I duck as he leaps for me, kicking upward into the soft spot between his legs; he flips in the air and lands hard on his back. I sprint toward him, thinking there's enough time to kill him, but no--the wolves are surrounding Silas and Rosie, herding them, pinning them between their bodies. Rosie fights valiantly, her cloak a blur around her as she sinks her knives into every bit of wolf flesh she can find. It keeps the wolves just far enough away that they can't touch Silas.

  But there are so many of them. Rosie stands in front of Silas, knives ready, eyes darting among the Fenris. There's fear, yes, but there's something more, something that tells me that my sister will die before she allows a wolf through to her love.

  Something that reminds me of me, standing in front of her, seven years ago. But I can't allow Rosie to become what I have become. Not Rosie--they can't have her.

  My sister is the priority, which is why I sprint toward the man she loves. I flip my hatchet and send it flying, slicing down the spine of the wolf closest to the woodsman. It's just

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  enough to distract the group, and Silas downs another while the others re-form the circle around him. The Alpha bounds toward the group, but I cut him off.

  "You are only delaying the inevitable," the wolf chokes through a growl-like voice, his face transforming to something slightly more human for the words.

  "As long as possible," I reply under my breath.

  "Stay out of the business of wolves, child," he snarls.

  I shake my head, licking my lips. "I can't. I really, really can't."

  He lunges for me.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Rosie

  The church bells ring once behind me, the only sound audible above the roars of monsters. The closest Fenris uses my distraction to his advantage and plunges his fangs into my forearm. I scream and smash my knife into his head, pushing it through the roof of his mouth until I feel the tip of the blade against my arm, between his teeth. I kick him in the chest, and he staggers away before collapsing into a heap. He'll be shadows soon.

  Blood streams down my arm, warm and sticky, but I ignore it--three wolves left. I hear my sister bellowing curses at the Alpha, and Silas is dodging the jaws of a young-looking gray wolf. The last Fenris knocks a knife from my hand, but I reach down and grab a rusty shard of metal and plunge it into his hind leg. He howls in pain as I bring my

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  elbow down on his head. The Fenris turns to human form and staggers away, running from the scene, slipping through the fence before I can stop him. I charge toward Silas, still clutching one knife and the shard of metal. I slide in front of him, knocking him out of the way, and plunge the shard of metal into the gray wolf's shoulder. The beast roars in pain and limps backward. One left--the Alpha. Silas meets my eyes for a moment, and then we look toward my sister on the other end of the lot.

  Scarlett and the Alpha are circling each other, glaring, eyes hateful and dark. Scarlett's forehead is bleeding, her hair sticking to the wound to the point that she looks almost like an animal herself. She is fierce as I will never be, but I can help her. I run forward, Silas fast on my heels.

  The wolf leaps. Scarlett lowers herself to the ground, but the Fenris knows the trick and suddenly pulls himself down. His front claws pin down her arms, his jaw in front of her face. Her legs kick in protest, but he ignores the sharp strikes she delivers to his hind legs. He's too focused. I see his claws flex and pop into my sister's forearms. A long line of bloody saliva drips onto her neck and puddles. I run faster. I want to hurt him, to destroy him for her. The Alpha's eyes dart to me.

  "Don't move," he growls through a partly human mouth, the words bringing his fangs dangerously close to my sister's face. He can kill her. I have to listen, or he'll kill her like the girl in the subway tunnel. I freeze. "Drop the weapons," he

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  orders. I hear Silas drop his ax behind me. I release the bone handle, and it thuds to the ground uselessly.

  The Fenris bows his head and extends his black and red tongue, then runs it up the side of Scarlett's face tauntingly. She won't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. The Alpha chuckles, dark anger underneath the laugh, then whips his head to her shoulder--the act is so quick that I don't realize what he's done until I see the giant wound on Scarlett's collarbone, so deep that I can see the muscles flexing. She doesn't cry out, doesn't move, but I scream uncontrollably. The Alpha snickers at me and snaps his head to her other shoulder as well. Finally, Scarlett grunts in pain, which the Fenris finds hilarious. He snorts, spattering blood from his nostrils. The wolf opens his mouth wide, revealing rows and rows of yellow teeth glistening in the moonlight.

  Silas blazes by me.

  By the time I realize what's going on, it's too late to stop him. His hair flies back, steel determination in his eyes. This can't be happening.

  The wolf sees Silas coming, but only barely--Silas slams into the creature's side, and they both tumble off Scarlett, who lies motionless. The wolf sn
aps its jaws, growls; Silas leaps away, but the Alpha swipes a lanky arm under his feet and sends him tumbling into the dirt. A weapon, I need a weapon--I grab Silas's ax and run for him. Silas is on his feet again, but the Fenris lashes a claw across his face, flipping him back down. Silas hits his head on the ground, and I see his eyes

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  roll back in his head. Blood begins to pool on the dirt and I cry his name. I scream, I run, but I can't stop the wolf as it steps on top of him, lowers its head to Silas's chest. Faster, faster, I have to move faster. But everything is in slow motion.

  The bite is such a small thing. It barely breaks the skin.

  But it'll be enough. It will be enough to take his soul. To take my love's soul.

  A broken wail erupts from my throat, more animal than human as I hear Scarlett cry out from the ground. Suddenly time speeds up and I'm on the Fenris, pushing him off Silas's limp body. Rage seethes through me, the most deadly, hot-blooded fury I've ever known, giving me the strength to wield the heavy ax above my head. I slam it down toward the wolf. It ducks back just in time, but I sever its front toes. The Alpha howls and leaps for me, but I turn and thrust the end of the ax into the air. It slices into the animal's chest with a dull thud, and drops of its blood rain down on me. Not enough, not enough. I want to hack it to pieces; I want it to die fighting me. I want to be the last thing it sees since it was the last thing Silas--my Silas, not the thing Silas will become--saw.

  I try to swing the ax again, but it slides out of my hands, slick with blood. I abandon it as the Alpha slowly turns back toward me, staggering to keep upright. I have no weapon, but it doesn't matter. I jump forward and knock the wolf on its back. It claws at me, its nails tearing my clothes and skin. I press my hands onto its throat. I force my body weight behind my palms and bear down as the wolf twists, trying to