The explosion still rang in June’s ears. The sky above the river glowed orange and black, with thick smoke curling up from what used to be the boatyard. June’s grip on the steering handle was so tight her fingers went numb. Behind them, the river thrashed and flashed with fire.
"Raven!" June shouted into the wind. The sound vanished before it reached anything. She glanced back at the fireball and yelled, "Dante, we have to go back! She’s still there!"
Dante clung to the side of the boat, his hands pale as bone. He stared at the burning shore, eyes filled with something like sorrow. "We can’t go back, June. Look behind us."
June twisted around. Out of the haze, two black jet skis ripped across the water, slicing through the waves like sharks. The Vancents weren’t done. Victor Vancent wan
