Free Desire the Banshee by Ella Drake

he’d seen a ghost.
    Sean snapped fingers in Stan’s face to get him back on track.
    Stan visibly swallowed. “Vince. He said we were just collecting people without homes. Without families. We were going to be family for each other. You don’t know what it’s like to be out there alone, without a family. But when I came and told him that I’d rather stay at the Cinders, he freaked out. Sent some electro mage after me. He told me he’d kill me if I turned on them. Then he told me I had to come down and ambush you to show my loyalty. It was kill you or he’d kill me.”
    “What did he do to others?” Sean’s throat stung, dry and sore from the unaccustomed use.
    Stan shook his head violently. Sean had to point to the man’s mouth to get him to stop moving so Sean could still read his lips. “Sent them ahead. I don’t know where.”
    “Get help. Call Cinder. They will protect you.” His tongue thickened around the words, but he must have gotten through since the man nodded and scrambled to get up.
    Sean let him. As soon as he gained his feet, the forest shifted around him. The surety that Daisy was in trouble blotted out everything else. He opened his mind and pushed. She’d built a brick wall to keep him out, but he stumbled into her without resistance.
    Sean.
    She’d reached for him.
    Pain hit, scorching through him and thumping through his chest. The adrenaline of taking down Stan left him. He trudged back toward the path.
    Daisy. What’s happening?
    She didn’t answer. Panic hit and sent him running. Following the most direct way back to Daisy, he left the path, running between trees and praying he didn’t trip on a root or limb.
    Daze, I’m coming. Hang on. I’m coming.
    A small spark of her tickled at the base of his head, but she was still groggy, not quite awake and conscious, but maybe she could hear him. He took all he had and blasted toward her.
    Wail, Daze.
    Nothing. No response. The tickling had faded. She better be okay. Vince would pay. Nothing in his vision made sense, his concentration on connecting to Daisy, but he didn’t care. He just kept trying.
    Wail, love. Wail.
    He forced himself to go faster. His lungs burned, his legs burned, his eyes burned. He ran through the darkening woods. Limbs and twigs slapped and grabbed at him. He’d taken only a few minutes to walk down the trail. It felt like hours getting back up.
    Ahead, the clearing came into view with the last of the day’s sunlight.
    Almost there.
    He tripped. Went facedown toward the ground. Spitting leaves from his mouth, he surged up and toward the clearing, ignoring the searing pain from an ankle he must have twisted in the fall.
    Daze! Daze, let it all out, baby.
    She didn’t answer.
    Terror like he’d never known clamped down on him. He struggled to breathe and faltered as he pushed into the camp.
    Vince stood over Daisy crumpled on the ground. A man in a black hoodie gave him a smirk and a two-finger salute, sparks dancing on his hand, before disappearing down the path leading up the mountain.
    Sean’s fingers curled into claws, his shoulders bunched and strained against his shirt. Hot, undiluted rage coursed through him. Hands going straight for Vince’s throat, Sean dived.
    He slammed into the traitor. They hit the ground, and a thud shocked through his limbs. Vince grimaced as his head knocked into the ground. Without hesitation, Sean wrapped his fingers around the man’s neck and squeezed, pushing down with all his strength and weight. Vince clutched at Sean’s arms to pull him off.
    The strategist’s face turned purple. His long, manicured fingers wrapped around Sean’s wrists. He managed to loosen Sean’s hold and nearly bucked him off. A flash of movement registered a second too late. Vince slammed a stick against Sean’s head. Pain lanced through his skull and down his spine. The force of the impact ripped the stick out of Vince’s hand. Sean shook his head, willing the specks of black away.
    Sean drew