I slammed another clip home as he landed on his back. He wasn’t moving, but he would. I’d survived it, and he was stronger than I was. More conditioned. Tougher. He’d get back up, and that’s the way it was going to be. So help me God.

But since I didn’t believe in God, I was going to have to help myself. I rolled, got back to my feet, to be faced with an open mouth as tall as I was. The head turned slightly to get me into the sight of its one good eye as its flesh bunched muscularly, ready to surge forward. I jerked backward as I fired into the maw. Nothing. Nothing. Not a damn thing fazed it.

Until the gate opened.

And out they came. A swarm of the deadly, the fatal, the world’s first murderers. They’d hunted dinosaurs once, Goodfellow had said. For fun. There’d been easier things to catch and eat. But for a helluva good time, for a real party, they killed dinosaurs. The eel wasn’t much different.

Thirty-eight sets of claws were buried in the black meat. As one, they dragged it foot by foot across the sand. With jaws snapping and long body twisting, it tried to escape. It didn’t. Section by section, it was wrenched backward into the largest gate I’d seen since . . . hell, since I’d tried to destroy the world. Black blood spilled on the pale sand as half of it disappeared into the whirl of gray light. Metal teeth buried in rubbery flesh and wrenched massive pieces free to toss away onto the sand, a pack of hyenas savaging their crippled prey. Those same teeth, now stained black, all grinned in my direction as they called me, voices as one—the crooning of a chlorine gas- tainted wind.

“Cal-i-ban.”

Death in the air, death in my name.

Then they went back to the business—the fun—at hand, taking the eel to a hell that put anything in the Bible in the shade. The last attacker visible clawed its way up onto the eel’s back. Hand over hand it ripped into the now slowly thrashing body—they were eating the eel, I thought numbly. On the other side. They were eating it while it was still alive. The last Auphe kept up its bloody passage until it was behind the now-sluggish head.

“You,” it hissed, bloodred eyes fixed on mine, teeth bared in the same happy, insanely twisted grin, but not murderous—it was possessive. Coveting. And that was worse. God, that was so much worse. “You are ours. For no other. Ours.” The hot-lava gaze slid to Niko. “And you, sheep, you are no more. Blood to soak the ground, screams to tear the air. Meat. Meat to feed us.” The grin shimmered black and silver. “Meat to feed your brother.”

Then they were gone. Eel and Auphe. The gate closed. There were only sand, dark waves, a rising sliver of moon, and . . .

And . . .

And we were going to die. All of us. They were going to kill every last one of us, and I didn’t see any way around it. But . . .

The way it—she—had looked at me. It meant something. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t. If she coveted anything, it was my death. That’s all. That’s all it could be. Fuck, I almost laughed, wasn’t that enough?

My legs wanted to give out and dump me hard in the sand, but I refused to let them. Dinosaurs had never ruled the earth—the Auphe had. And if it weren’t for humans breeding like rabbits, they still would. Now billions of humans might live on, but we were soon to be as extinct as those dinosaurs. Buried and gone. All of us, me included.

But not now, I thought as I caught grip of the last gossamer strip of sanity as it went sailing by. I held on tight, held on for all I was worth. Not now, I reaffirmed savagely. Not yet.

I turned to see Nik sitting up and staring back at me. For once he looked as stunned as I felt. As if he didn’t have the answer. Even though he always had the answer. Even though he always came through. Never failed. Which wasn’t fair. It was a weight no one should have to carry, but he did it day after day. Battle after battle. Catastrophe after fucking catastrophe. He never hesitated and he never gave up. On anything. On me. He should have. There were times that if he had we wouldn’t be here right now. In this place, this position. Niko, Promise, and Robin . . . they’d be living their lives. I’d be gone, but it would’ve been worth it. To save the only family, the only friends I’d ever had.

But that chance was gone. That ship had fucking sailed.

But I had another chance. A chance to do something good. Something I should’ve done a while ago.

I walked over to put my hand down and help Niko up. Not that he needed it, but he took it all the same. He stood, one arm cradling his ribs. Hopefully, they were only bruised, not cracked or broken. His jaw was set against the pain, and broken ribs or not, I knew he’d make the climb back up to the boardwalk stoically. That was Nik.

“It’s okay,” I said. I couldn’t feel his hand against mine or the sand beneath my bare feet, but that didn’t matter. I had one focus now. One.

“Okay,” he echoed dubiously, head turned down toward me. He said it as if he couldn’t believe that I had, as if he wondered how I could imagine that any of this could possibly be okay. Doubt; Niko hadn’t ever shown it, not on the outside. Not when we were kids—not last year when he had to kill me to save me. But I saw the faint shadow of it now. It was time for me to take the burden for a while. Time that I was the one to never give in, never give up. To believe, against all odds and logic, that we would make it. Force myself to believe, because that’s what was needed. To do what Niko had done for me his whole life.

Even if it was a lie.

“It’s more than okay,” I said, trying to sound optimistic. I’d never actually felt optimistic, so pulling off a completely unknown emotion was a stretch, but I gave it my best shot. I put my hand on his arm to support him if the ribs were broken and he needed it. He wouldn’t, but I did it anyway. “I’ll think of something. We’ll kick so much pasty nightmare ass, we’ll be limping for a week. Blisters on our soles the size of lemons.” Bullshit, utter and complete, but then again . . . maybe not. Maybe it wasn’t bullshit or a lie. I’d always claimed to be a monster. Now was the time to step up to the plate and live it. “I’ll think like them. I’ll anticipate them. I’ll be ready.”

And why not?

Who better to think like the Auphe than their own family?

Pearls were everywhere.

In shades of white, old ivory, and cream, hundreds of them spilled across Promise’s violet and gray rug. It was an amazing sight, the contrast between the soft pale shimmer and the dark colors of the rug. Beautiful. I recognized that, but I didn’t feel it. I felt many other things not nearly as pleasant, but not that.

But I did feel the fingers combing their way through my hair. Slow and sure. Patient. When I remained silent for nearly an hour, sitting on the floor with my back against the couch, the fingers remained patient. Scooping up a handful of pearls didn’t change the pattern. Faithful, soothing—the only thing I felt. At the moment, the only thing I wanted to.

The Mer had come out of the water when the Jinshin-uwo and the Auphe had vanished. The rip in reality sealed itself, and only Cal and I were left in the icy December evening. Slowly, one by one, they came to the edge of the waves to balance upright on curled muscular tails. Each hand was filled with pearls. We hadn’t completed the job. The Auphe had done that, but we were paid nonetheless. Then, with the pockets of both our coats filled to the top with gems, we came home. Not ours, but Promise’s home. Cal had suggested it and I hadn’t disagreed. He thought I needed it, and he wasn’t wrong.

“He grew up on me.” One last pearl fell and I smiled slightly. “I didn’t see it coming. Isn’t that odd? I always see everything about Cal, but I didn’t see that.”