Jay was a very odd name for a druid. I'd expect something like Flower or Willow or Rowan. Jay was the name of frat guys who peaked in college. It made sense then that Jay also didn't resemble a druid. From his name brand sneakers to his Rolex to his highlighted hair, he looked more like he was a trust fund kid playing at being an adult.

He lounged on the chair in front of the fireplace no one had bothered to light. As a result, a chill lingered in the room, making me reconsider running back upstairs to hunt for the hoodie. Jac, sitting across from the druid, noticed my slight shiver, and he jumped up at once, tugging off his own jacket and handing it to me.

"I'm not cold," I lied as I selected a seat on the couch that put me as far away from my former partner as possible.

A glimmer of hurt pulsed through Jac's hazel eyes, but he recovered quickly, hiding it behind a bland expression as he returned to his chair. Kay gave me a subtle nod of approval. Tiffany's smirk was anything but subtle, and I wondered if I could get away with punching her again? Probably not.

"So, this is the newest Shard Keeper," Jay said. His voice was rough and booming and completely at odds with his appearance. I wondered if he delighted in being a contradiction.

"Newest and last in line at the moment." I replied, hoping we were all in agreement on how dire this situation was.

He leaned forward and draped his forearms over his legs, his short, blunt fingers curling beneath his muscular thighs as he studied me. No one spoke. The silence stretched on for at least five minutes until his hands moved to his knees and he leaned back in his chair.

"I hate to be cliche." I squirmed beneath his gaze. "But a picture lasts longer."

"Ah, but it doesn't capture everything." Golden lashes swept over his cheeks as he glanced down at the hands I folded over my lap. "Are those gloves for looks or function?"

"You don't think it goes with my outfit?" I wiggled my fingers in front of my face.

"Bria," Jac said.

"Function. I'm..." Why was I struggling to explain my ability to this man? The supernatural world was his home, and I'm sure he'd heard of odder things than this. "I'm sensitive to energies in objects. If I touch them with my bare hands, I can see the past. I call them echoes."

Jay's expression became bland. The teasing gleam in his black eyes disappeared. "Can you control it? So you don't have to wear those?"

"I can, but it requires a lot of concentration, and if the echo is strong, it can overwhelm me. This is just easier."

The druid nodded. "Is this an ability from your mother?"

"I don't know." Everyone watched me, unapologetically curious. Even Jac who knew I was an orphan, paid rapt attention. "As we found out last night, my father is dead, and one or both of my parents left me on the steps of a fire station when I was just a few days old."

"Is this is an ability you've heard of before?" Kay asked.

Jay licked his lips. "Retrocognition is not an entirely unheard of ability, but I've never heard of it manifesting like this before. Typically, it comes in visions just like a precognition. It makes me wonder..."

He trailed off, and I leaned forward, desperate to hear even if it was just his musings. Not once during all my research had anyone given me anything helpful.

"Yes," I pushed when it seemed as if we'd lost him inside his mind.

He came back to us slowly, a golden ring pulsing around his irises. "Sorry."

Jac shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. "This is really a time sensitive matter."

Everyone jolted when I burst into laughter. Tiffany recoiled the most—of course, the heifer—and stared at me as if I was plagued. Maybe I was, but I couldn't stop laughing until at last I sucked in a deep breath and wiped tears from my cheeks.

"Bria?"

"Sorry. Time sensitive. It was funny. Considering... you know." Jay grinned, and I fist bumped him. "Druid dude has a sense of humor."

"It is kind of funny," he conceded, sliding his palms over his thighs before exhaling. "I was just wondering if perhaps your ability extends beyond retrocognition. Maybe you can tap into natural energies and signatures and manipulate them."

"Not following," I admitted, as Tiffany and Kay exchanged troubled looks. It was enough to concern me since Tiffany looked genuinely worried—not a hint of malice in her expression.

"There are two types of magic users. Those who carry an internal nexus. It's typically very limited in scope. Think about demons who only have fire magic or the incubi and succubi who use sex magic. Even witches, who probably have the most varied skills, are limited by the type of magic they carry. Kay is psychic, but if they use tools created by other types of witches, they can expand the type of spells they can create."

"Okay. And the other type of magic users?"

"Far rarer are those who can harness the magic in the world around them. They're like vessels who fill themselves up with surrounding power, limited by only how much they can carry."

"Parasites," Tiffany spat. She folded her arms over her chest.

Kay nodded, and their agreement gave me pause. Kay was far more levelheaded than Tiffany. Less likely to develop rash opinions. But what did that matter? This was just conjecture. I wasn't necessarily in the latter half of the group. I remembered all the attempts to cast spells, and I'd failed miserably.

"Why are they so bad?" Jac, bless him, asked the question I wanted to ask.

Jay held up his hand and silenced Tiffany. "They're not. Or at least no worse than anyone else. There have been individuals in the past who took what did not belong to them or abused their power. Because of that, there are very few left and those are mostly Fae, those it's rumored—"

We never got to hear the rest. A loud boom shook the house, and the windows in the room shattered, the shards of glass spraying over all of us, pursued by a searing heat. Then everything tilted, and my teeth went through my bottom lip as I slammed into the hardwood floors. Tangy metallic blood filled my mouth, and I spit out a glob of crimson as I pushed myself to my hands and knees and surveyed the surrounding carnage.

Flames licked the outer wall, and ash and debris floated in the air, riding the black smoke billowing from the ceiling. Bits of broken wood and glass littered the floor, the slivers of glass glimmering with the hellish reflection of the fire. A tingle shot through me, and my vision wavered as an echo tried to take hold. I raised my hand and spied a small tear on the tip of my glove's pointer finger. Curling my fingers into my palm, I put my hand back down as a fist.

"Jac," I wheezed, spying his long legs protruding from behind the couch. Unmoving. "Jac!"

"No." A firm hand gripped my ankle, stopping my mad scramble toward my former partner.

"Jay, let me go," I growled, trying to free myself, but his fingers didn't budge. I looked over my shoulder and winced. Open gashes ruined the left side of his face and half his hair was gone. Immediately I touched my long hair, feeling all over my head and only dropping my hand when I was satisfied it was all still there.

"It's got to be the Andariens. We need to get you out of here."

"I can't leave Jac."

"He would agree with me. You're the priority. We have to get you out."

"No, no, no."

Jay released me, but not long enough for me to make it to Jac. He stood and hauled me to my feet, dragging me toward the exit at the front of the house. My protests turned to hacking coughs as the air thickened. The druid cursed, muttered something foreign, and fresh air rushed into my lungs.

"They're going to die," I screamed as he shoved me outside. The sudden drop in temperature almost sent me into shock, and I stumbled down the stairs, falling to my knees, only to be snatched upright again.

"Stop," he said, slapping me across the face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I replied, thrusting my hand toward the blazing house. It was a garish painting of red and orange against a gray winter morning. "Help them. You could at least have done your party trick and cleared the air."

"No." Jay shook his head. "That's not what I'm sorry about."

I turned away from him, coughing and holding my stomach. Spitting out phlegm, I wiped the back of my mouth before facing him again. Between the smoke and fading adrenaline, my thoughts were jumbled and sluggish, but years of training kicked in, my suspicions going on high alert.

"The wards. How did anyone get through them?" They had all seemed so confident about them. In all this time, no one had ever gotten through them. And Molly... she'd died just before Jay was supposed to help her. Could it be a coincidence? "Why?"

The tree branches above my head shivered, and the drumming beat of large wings flapping filled my ears. I didn't even need to look up to know what was coming. Who was coming. I touched my neck, wondering how long Kohl would wait to tear into my veins this time.

"Why?" I shouted again. "You want to see them tear this world apart with their armies?"

"No," Jay insisted, his tongue loosening at last. "They won't tear it apart. They will heal it."

Another explosion sounded from the house, and behind me, someone landed, but it didn't stop me from throwing myself at the druid, a scream shredding my vocal cords as I drove my fist into his mangled face. Jac was dead because of this bastard's betrayal. And a hateful voice whispered it was my fault, too. If I wasn't who I was, then he wouldn't have been in this danger. I should've kept him safe.

Arms snaked around my middle and lifted me off the druid. Foamy blood clung to the corners of Jay's lips, and when he spit to clear his mouth, a tooth fell out as well. My celebration didn't last long, and I twisted in my captor's arms, my fists raised to deliver more blows. Let Kohl drain me. Let him take the Shard and bring the armies into this world. I no longer cared, but I wouldn't go down without taking a few pounds of flesh for myself.

"Bria. Stop." An enormous hand caught my fist after only two hits landed.

The familiar voice penetrated my fury, and I peeled open eyes I didn't remember closing. Cian's blue gaze held mine. And even though he was no safer than Kohl, all the fight went out of me. His eyes widened, and he shifted his hold just in time to stop me from sliding to the ground as my legs gave out.

"Bria," Cian demanded, shaking me as my eyes fluttered closed. "Wake up."

I would tell myself later it was because I didn't like being told what to do and not because I was weak. But I ignored his demands and let the darkness take me.