Movement on the surface of the lagoon caught Jack’s eye. He saw a white head begin to emerge from the water. He took aim with the Benelli but hesitated. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he felt responsible. Maybe if he’d let her down a little more easily she wouldn’t have attacked him, then Anya. Maybe something about her pathetic desire to fit in touched him. Or maybe he couldn’t bring himself to blow holes in a young woman, no matter how sick and twisted she was.

Whatever the reason, he dropped the shotgun, grabbed the cenote thing by the roots of its remaining wings, and lifted it. It looked heavy but he found it surprisingly light. It writhed in his grasp, trying to twist around and gouge him with those diamond teeth, but its carapace limited its agility.

Jack leaped off the bank and into the water.

“Jack!” he heard his father cry. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

Jack didn’t answer. Holding the cenote thing high, he splashed toward where Semelee was emerging from the water. He noticed she was holding two shells over her eyes.

The shells—that was what she’d wanted them for. Somehow they let her control these things.

And I helped complete her set.

He also noticed the other winged things rising from their feasts on the decks of the two boats and heading his way. He put everything he had into forcing himself through the water.

When he reached her he grabbed the back of her hair. He yanked downward, hard, stretching her throat, and held the crystalline teeth of the cenote thing inches from her skin. The twisting, gnashing jaws reminded him of a wood router.

“Drop the shells! Drop them now, Semelee, or this thing gets a free lunch! Don’t think I’m bluffing! You may have been right about me not shooting Luke the other day, but this is different. After what you’ve pulled in the last twenty-four hours, I’m more than ready for payback.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, but kept the shells over her eyes. “Just let me send the chew wasps back to the sinkhole.”

Chew wasps…a perfect name.

“You do that.”

The approaching chew wasps veered away and headed for the cenote, its lights faintly visible through the rain. Jack watched them fade into the mist, then, with his free hand, pulled Semelee’s hands away from her face. He hadn’t forgotten about Dora. He took her by the upper arm and guided her toward the bank.

As Jack pulled her up on land, he heard Dad call his name. He glanced over and saw him pointing toward the lagoon.

“Who or what is that?”