Ava's POV
Shaken but alive, the taste of smoke still lingered at the back of my throat as we staggered from the wrecked cabin. It worked—the explosion was supposed to confuse us. My head pulsed, and each breath seemed as though I was breathing glass fragments. But right now none of that really counted. This woman was two steps ahead of us; my kids were still out there.
I couldn't quite get rid of the impression of something darker as the wind whispered through the trees. We were still struggling at the margins of her game; this was personal, not a straightforward grab of power.
Jackson stood a few feet away, rifling trash and dust from his clothing. His face was set, resolved, but I could see the flash of irritation in his eyes. The same annoyance chewing at me, the sense of us being t
