by Becca Andre
Several of the guardsmen took a step back. However, the blonde took a step toward Perseus.
“How can you be oath-sworn to a human?” she demanded.
“She isn’t entirely human.”
The blonde started to speak, but Perseus sprang forward, and she gasped instead. He jerked the stylus out of her hand before she could react.
“Give that back,” she demanded, fury constricting her features.
“Tristan, take Kali ashore,” Perseus commanded, then addressed Briar. “Please join him, my lady.”
In answer, Briar brought the fiddle to her chin and launched into a song. The guardsmen didn’t know what she could do and simply stared at her in puzzlement, and before the blonde could give them a command, they were already hers—along with the woman herself.
“Quickly, my lady,” Perseus said. “Command them to forget they saw us. Then we must hurry away before anyone else notices your playing.”
Briar took his suggestion, laying on the charm before she suggested that none of them had seen them leave. She finished the short song with a flourish and took the fiddle from her chin.
“That won’t hold them long,” she told Perseus.
A hint of a smile appeared. “After you.” He nodded toward the gangplank.
“What about her stylus?” Briar asked. “Isn’t it a memento from her father?”
Perseus’s smile grew. “You have a good heart, my lady.” He walked over and stuck the stylus in the blonde’s pocket. “I hope we don’t regret that.”
“I’m sure she could have gotten another.” Briar didn’t stick around to hear any further comment he might make. She needed to get Tristan away from these women, and she needed to get back to Grayson. If he’d tried to communicate with her and found that he couldn’t, he might do something foolish.
She followed Tristan and Kali across the gangplank, then fell in beside them as they continued on. A moment later, Perseus caught up.
“You can be a bit ruthless, Perce,” Kali told him.
“Yes,” he agreed, seeming neither flattered nor annoyed. He handed Briar her fiddle case, then turned to Tristan. “I’ll take her.”
“And bossy as shit,” Kali added.
Perseus said nothing as he stepped up beside Tristan and carefully took Kali into his arms. Tristan seemed relieved. Briar didn’t think he was tired. By his blush, she suspected he’d never been so close to a girl.
While they made the transfer, Briar set her case on the ground and quickly secured her fiddle and bow, removing the pillowcase containing the soul box.
Once Kali was in his arms, Perseus took off, his pace so quick that Briar almost had to jog to keep up.
“You know how much that annoys me,” Kali said to Perseus.
“That I’m ruthless?”
“That you tell people what to do and expect them to obey, me included.”
“I don’t expect you to obey. Every time you do, it takes me completely by surprise.”
“Huh. Good to know.” The tension seemed to leave Kali, and she allowed her head to drop to his shoulder.
“Don’t pass out on me, Kali.”
“See, command right there.”
“Are you going to obey?” he asked.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
Briar bit her lip to keep from smiling, though she probably didn’t need to since a grin already creased Perseus’s face.
Perseus took Kali back to the boat where he and Molly could tend the injury until Briar could address it.
Though Perseus wasn’t too pleased about leaving Briar and Tristan to continue on to Andrew’s house on their own, Briar refused to wait until he could accompany her. She needed to get Tristan back to Solon and let Grayson know that she was all right. Those two had a tendency to take things to the extreme when someone they cared about was in trouble.
Andrew’s house came into view, and Briar relaxed a little. The ferra hadn’t burned down the place or anything so dramatic. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t send chimera after them again.
Briar jogged up the front steps and found the door locked. Not wanting to wait for it to be answered, she led Tristan around back.
“Impatient?” he teased as he followed her up onto the back stoop.
“Extremely.” She hesitated, her hand on the knob. “Are you certain you’re all right with this?”
“I truly am. There’s not much to miss, to be honest.”
She nodded. “Then let’s tell your father.” Solon was either going to be thrilled or furious.
The back door was unlocked, eliminating the need to knock. She led Tristan inside and started down the hall.
“Master, is that—” Andrew stepped into the back hall and came to a stop. He favored her with a glare. “You’re not Master Solon.”
“Brilliant as always, Andrew.”
He looked past her, and his frown was replaced with a smile. “Master Tristan. You’ve returned.”
“Are Solon and Grayson back?” Briar asked.
Andrew’s frown returned as he faced her. “Mr. Martel waits in the parlor. Master Solon went back out.”
“In that case,” Tristan cut in, “I’ll go get dressed.” He gestured at the oversized trousers he still wore, then started up the back stairs.
“I will assist you, Master Tristan,” Andrew headed after him.
“That’s not necessary,” she heard Tristan say.
“Master Solon insists,” Andrew answered.
Tristan’s sigh was loud enough to carry to her.
Briar released a sigh of her own. The Andrew she knew was completely gone. Why did Solon choose to surround himself with men like that? It wasn’t like he needed to create the soulless to retard his own devolvement. He just used them for their money and service.
Leaving that problem for another day, she hurried to the parlor, anxious to let Grayson know she was all right. He must be beside himself wondering what had happened to her.
Reaching the parlor, she found Orson seated in a chair near the unlit fireplace, a partially filled glass of some amber liquid in hand.
To her relief, Grayson stood quietly at the window that overlooked the garden behind the house, his back to the room.
“Grayson?” She set her fiddle case and the pillowcase containing the soul box on a side table, then walked over to him. “I’m back.”
He didn’t respond, his attention on the world outside.
“Careful.” Orson set aside his glass and got to his feet.
“What do you—” She fell silent as Grayson faced them. His eyes met hers, the blue-gray irises masking the white. Ferromancer’s eyes.
Chapter 16
Grayson’s eyes took her completely by surprise since neither the dorsal spines nor the wings had been visible. She had never seen that happen.
“Apparently, he went cold while out with Solon. He brought him back here to keep him from drawing attention,” Orson explained, his tone conversational. “We figured you died. Happens that way sometimes.”
“No. His construct is trapped in a soul box.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“I didn’t do it. There are ferra in town. They had Tristan.”
“Is he—”
“Upstairs, changing clothes.”
Orson’s eyebrows lifted upward a moment before his frown returned. “There are ferra here? How did they know where to find us?”
“I don’t know,” she lied. After all, she had told Liam about the ferromancer gathering in Portsmouth, and he had told Agatha. “We need to move the gala and get out of town,” she said.
“We don’t need to do anything,” Solon said from the doorway. He walked into the room and stopped before her. “I see you’re not dead.” Did he sound disappointed?
Briar ig
nored the last comment. “I don’t know how much of that you overheard, but there are ferra in town. Lucrezia among them.”
Solon cursed under his breath, then paced to the fireplace.
“She took Lock from me and trapped him in a soul box. I took it back. Any chance you can open it?”
“No. I can’t get through the soul fire.”
Damn, there went that hope.
Someone stepped into the room and Briar looked over, expecting Felipe or maybe, Andrew. Instead, she found herself staring into Dale Darby’s new metallic gray eyes. Apparently, he hadn’t been arrested for the murder of his daughter.
Darby gave her a frown before hurrying over to Grayson. “I did as you asked, Master. I accompanied the others and searched all the root cellars I could find. Weren’t no boy hidden in any of them.”
Grayson regarded him with an indifferent stare. “The boy was found.”
Briar studied Grayson. He’d been paying attention? Why hadn’t he acknowledged her?
“Found?” Solon demanded. “Where—”
“I’m here, Father.” Tristan joined them. “Briar took me away from some ferra.”
Solon didn’t comment. He stepped over and pulled Tristan into a hug. “Thank heaven. I searched everywhere, but…” Solon fell silent, then pushed Tristan back.
“That’s not all Briar did for me.” A wide grin creased Tristan’s face. “She healed me.”
“Healed you?” Solon gripped Tristan’s wrist and pushed up his sleeve.
“All the soul iron is gone,” Tristan whispered. “Every bit of it.”
Solon touched Tristan’s chin, tipping his face toward the late afternoon light coming through the window. “Your eyes…”
“Are blue.” Tristan gripped his opposite wrist, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed. “The ferra, they said… I’m human,” he finished in a rush. “I think they’re right.”
“What!” Solon shouted the word, making Tristan jump.
“Dad, it’s all right. Really. I get to live. I—”
Solon’s dark gray eyes focused on Briar. “You made my son human?”
“Not intentionally. Without Grayson, I had to—”
“You made my son human!”
This time, she jumped at the outburst. “Solon, listen. This isn’t—”
He started toward her.
“Dad, wait.” Tristan stepped between them.
Briar backed away. “Grayson,” she called to him. “Can you help me?”
Grayson watched her with an indifferent expression. “You were to stop devolvement, not make ferromancers human.”
His inability to comprehend the danger she was in—or even care—made her want to sob, but she couldn’t indulge the feeling. Not when Solon gave Tristan a shove and the young man went stumbling.
Solon frowned as he watched Tristan catch himself on the piano that took up one corner of the room. “You’re human,” he spoke the words with disgust.
“Solon, please.” She held up both hands. “It was an accident.”
“An accident is when you drop a teacup,” he said softly. Too softly. “Not when you neuter my son!” he shouted. The sudden explosion of sound made her cringe.
“Solon?” Grayson frowned.
“Silence,” Solon snapped. “She was going to do us harm. She intends it still. She wants to neuter all of us. You have been deceived, Drake.”
“That’s not true.” She fought back the tears to keep her voice level. “I love you, Grayson.”
Solon chuckled. “You’d best find another argument, ferra whore. He cannot fathom what that even means.”
Grayson watched the whole exchange with those expressionless alien eyes. Solon was right. He had no idea what love was, or why he should fight for it.
“She’s telling the truth,” Tristan came to her defense again. “Besides, this doesn’t change who I am.”
“Doesn’t change—” Solon stopped, seeming at a loss for words. “We were the perfect race, and even diminished, we are still superior to this subspecies we must share this world with. And now you are one of them!”
Tristan flinched at the outburst.
Briar chided herself for not seeing how truly unstable Solon was.
A clank came from the fireplace, and Briar saw a fireplace poker rise from its stand on the hearth.
“I will not allow her to neuter any more of us.” Solon twitched his fingers, and the poker moved toward her.
“Master, should I—” Darby didn’t get to finish his question to Grayson.
“Dad, don’t.” Tristan stepped up beside her.
“What are you going to do to stop me? Wrestle this fire iron from me?”
“I doubt I could have done that before I became human.”
A muscle twitched in Solon’s cheek. He held his hand still, the poker rotating slowly in the air.
“Don’t do this.” Tristan lifted his hands, his palms toward his father. “This isn’t right.”
“Right and wrong are judgments based on emotion.” Solon’s voice turned cool as he seemed to get his own emotions under control. “I am a ferromancer. I am not ruled by emotion.”
“Maybe we should be.”
“You are no longer part of this.” Solon flicked his fingers, and the fire iron shot forward, flying straight at Briar.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Darby spring toward her, but he was too far away to help.
“No!” Tristan shouted. She didn’t see his intent until he lunged in front of her.
She opened her mouth to shout his name, but didn’t get the chance to utter it. The fire iron slammed into him, spearing him through the torso. He staggered back, his hands gripping the iron bar where it entered his stomach.
“Tristan,” she whispered.
He dropped to his knees, then fell over on his side, several inches of iron protruding through the back of his waistcoat.
Briar pressed a hand to her mouth.
Solon’s brow furrowed as he stared at his son. When he didn’t go to him, a sickening thought occurred to Briar.
“Why didn’t you stop it,” she whispered, “before it struck him?”
Solon lifted his gray eyes to hers. “You had already killed him,” he said in that cold voice. He raised a hand, and the piano lifted off the floor.
Briar puzzled over how he managed that until she remembered that the strings and frame that held them were made of iron.
She backed away, but the door was on the other side of the room. There was nowhere to go.
Her backside bumped against the narrow table that sat before the wide window overlooking the back garden. A couple of potted plants rested on the table’s surface, but nothing she could use as a weapon.
“Grayson,” she tried again. “Please stop him.” The last word broke on a sob.
Solon flicked his fingers, and the piano shot toward her.
She screamed, turning her back to the coming collision and threw her arms over her head. The instrument slammed into her a moment later, hurling her into the table, then through the window in an explosion of glass and shattered wood.
She smacked her head against something solid—part of the window frame?—then she was airborne. She collided with the hedge a few feet beyond the house, the impact knocking her to the ground. She rolled away, trying to get beneath the hedge when the piano crashed down, crushing the foliage with its immense weight.
Hearing a dissonant twang, Briar fell into darkness.
The boat scraped along the lock wall with an oddly dissonant sound that set Briar’s teeth on edge. At least, Jimmy did his job right, because the boat glided to a gentle stop before smacking the gates. She released the tiller, noting how tightly she had been gripping it.
“When Eli comes looking, be sure to tell him that wasn’t me.”
He smiled and got to his feet. Even in the low light, she could see the twinkle in his eyes. His human eyes.
“Grayson.” She collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
He hugged her back, his embrace just as tight, as if they both feared to be separated.
“You’re you again,” she whispered.
“I’m always me, in my heart.”
She lifted her head at the odd answer and looked up at him.
A bolt of red lightning arced across the black sky, momentarily casting everything in shades of crimson.
“You’re still trapped,” she whispered.
“You are here as well.” He cupped her cheek.
She frowned, not understanding. Did he mean they were both trapped within Lucrezia’s soul box?
“You are part of me,” he added, perhaps noticing her confusion. “Don’t you see? Unlike a true ferra, who would only capture a bit of my soul, you have shared yours with me. That’s what truly links us. That’s how you reversed my devolvement.”
And how she reversed Tristan’s. She had shared her soul with him, except she had taken that a step further. Could she do the same for Grayson? Would he want to be human?
From somewhere she couldn’t quite place came a forlorn screech of metal on metal. Lock!
She turned toward the sound, trying to puzzle out where he was. Another flash of crimson illuminated her boat—and she spotted the inhuman monsters climbing down the sides of the lock, each made of shiny silver metal. Chimera.
One leapt onto the stable deck, landing with a hollow thump. It lifted its head, but instead of the glowing red eyes she’d seen on the other, this one had hazel eyes. Durante.
She looked back at Grayson to tell him to be careful, but he was gone. In the place where he’d been standing lay a necklace.
Briar bent and scooped it up. The chain dangled from her fingers, at its end hung a silver charm in the shape of a human heart.
Briar woke with a gasp, only to discover that she was still in darkness. Her heart surged with the thought that she hadn’t escaped her dream, then she realized that this darkness was different and far from complete.