We boarded the black Order patrol boat and sped across the harbor
toward Bentham Island. Over the roar of the engines, Amal and Neve
relentlessly grilled Savannah about Kahanov, his magic, and what she’d seen
while scrying on him. But silence fell when we approached the massive
prison, and Nevaeh whistled low as we pulled into the recently outfitted
dock. “What a change. The last time I was here, this place was crumbling into
the lake.”
“What happened?” Savannah asked.
“A water genie hit it with a tsunami and cursed its defenses.” Neve
pointed to a faint shimmering dome in the air above the prison. “That spell
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protects Bentham. When it came down, five prisoners managed to escape,
despite a half dozen backup measures. Kahanov is the only one still on the
loose.”
The captain killed the engine and secured the boat against the concrete
jetty. Neve stood and levitated onto the dock, while Amal leapt up.
Savannah’s eyes rounded, and her jaw dropped. “Holy hell, that’s…
awesome,” she said, then stood and placed her foot on the gunwale. Amal
and I both extended our hands to help her up, and Savannah paused.
Amal smirked. “I won’t bite.”
Ignoring me, Savannah took her hand, and Amal pulled her up to the jetty
with a swift tug.
“Let me guess, you’re a werewolf,” Savannah said to Amal.
“That’s right. The best kind, too.”
“Wolfborn, like Jaxson?”
“Gods, no.” Amal frowned. “I shapeshift into a wolf with magic, which
means I can do it with my clothes on.”
Savannah looked her up and down. “I’ve seen some of Jaxson’s people do
that. Does it work with guns, too?”
“Anything I’m carrying.”