The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3)

by Brittany Matsen

  Would she ever get to see New Orleans as the musical, artistic hub that it was? To come and enjoy the simplicity that places like New Orleans had to offer? She wasn’t musically inclined, but she had loved to sketch, particularly when she was younger. She wouldn’t win any awards for it or be able to make a living off it, but once upon a time, she had imagined having her own little space in this city, enjoying its warmth, the spices, the upbeat music on every street. The diversity of its people, the unification of all.

  If it ever returned to its former glory, maybe one day she could just be an ordinary girl with a sketch pad, drawing whatever caught her eye for no other reason than for the pleasure it would bring her.

  Gertie stopped and looked up to a closed balcony door on the second floor. Outside, on the pale bricks, was a silver carving that matched the one in August’s coffee shop. It was small, and Emma might not have noticed it if she hadn’t already seen it elsewhere. Blaze and Sergei exchanged matching quizzical expressions.

  “Who you lookin’ for, doll?” the man asked from above them.

  Gertie didn’t look like she was going to answer him, but at last she said,“Maria Oltos. Does she still live here?” She pointed to the apartment with the symbol.

  The man strummed the small instrument with his head cocked to the side thoughtfully.“I’ve never seen anyone living in that space…and I’ve lived here fifteen years.”

  Of course, Emma thought bitterly. Another dead end.

  Gertie didn’t seem convinced at first. Then she nodded. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Anything for a sweet broad like you,” he answered.

  Gertie spun around, leading them back down the stone steps, but Emma caught sight of her cheeks taking on a rosy flush that made her smile.

  They tried two more buildings in the city, with no luck. Many had fled, or—as Sergei had voiced after the second empty house—the Shediem had abducted every coven in the area. It made sense since the Shediem were everywhere, unchecked. The Giborim who usually resided in the area had moved to other compounds in more remote locations, though they passed a few helping the homeless and one covered in a spray of familiar shiny black substance. Blaze had nodded in respect, earning one in return, but they didn’t stay and chat.

  After the third unsuccessful call, Blaze made them head back to the bayou. They’d polished off the overflowing basket of muffins, and the sun was beginning to set. Soon, the night predators would be out in full force, and none of them were willing to risk being caught in a city full of Shediem, no matter how powerful they were altogether.

  When they passed through the invisible wards surrounding Constance and Gwyndoline’s house, Emma’s breath hitched. It wasn’t as painful as the first time, but whatever power existed in her shoulder twitched and writhed for several moments before going still again.

  They coasted to a stop outside, and everyone’s eyes landed on a sleek, silver Honda that hadn’t been there before.

  “Who is that?” Axel asked gruffly.

  No one responded; instead they climbed out of the SUV in silence and hurried for the door, ignoring the distant sounds of Shediem and the screams of terror that followed.

  Gwyndoline met them at the door, pulling it open before Gertie reached for the handle. Her twin’s eyes were wide, her hands visibly shaking.

  “You have visitors,” she said softly.

  Blaze met Emma’s questioning look with one of his own, but the tick in his jaw betrayed his worry. He rushed past Gwyndoline and Gertie and into the house with the determination of an alpha wolf defending its pack. Emma practically had to jog to keep up with him, and when he reached the entrance to the dining room, he jolted to a stop, putting out an arm made of steel. She collided with it, giving an audible “oof ” before throwing a glare up at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were trained on the two strangers sitting at the dining room table.

  Constance stood in front of the stove, though she glanced at where Blaze stood in the doorway, giving off heat and violent energy. Sweat beaded her brow, and her usual mask of disdain was replaced with anxiety.

  Emma swallowed hard, drawing two sets of violet eyes to her. Blaze shifted, trying to push her behind him, but she dug her heels in, meeting their stares.

  A girl only a few years older than her, with vibrant purple hair cropped into a pixie cut that highlighted her sharp chin, smiled a crooked, twisted smile from her seat. Her pale skin gave off a shimmering quality that was undoubtedly magic. The boy across from her, who had dark skin and looked to be a year or so older than Emma, raked his gaze up and down with apparent interest. His eyes flared brighter with heat, and Emma looked back to the girl.

  “Who are you?” Blaze asked, his voice harsh with impending violence.

  The girl rose from her chair still smiling at Blaze in a strange, predatory way.“Taryn. And this is my brother, Derrik.”

  Derrik offered Blaze a nod before his gaze shifted back to Emma. He was handsome, she supposed, but when his irises extinguished their purple glow, Emma noticed the telltale signs of an addict: yellowing, bloodshot eyes sunken, and gaunt features. His frame was toned, but there was a sickness that seeped from him that not even his smirk could hide.

  “I heard you lot were recruiting covens to help fight the Shediem,” Taryn drawled, peering around Blaze’s bulky frame to direct her next words at Emma.“And we heard you brought the Shediem-Slayer with you.”

  Emma’s heart rocketed up another notch, and she was sure the whole room could hear its thunderous pace like a stampede of wild horses. Behind her, Axel let out a hiss.

  He hissed. Like a cat.

  Even Blaze turned to him. His brother’s eyes were narrowed on Derrik in challenge.

  Derrik laughed a lazy, rich sound. “Down, kitty. We’re not here to harm anyone.”

  Axel’s growl was cut off when Blaze lifted his hand, his glare demanding silence. Finally, Constance slammed the wooden spoon she’d been so vigorously stirring with onto the counter.

  “And why would you be interested in fighting the Shediem, pray tell? Your coven is widely known for its brutality and ardent refusal to ever aid any other covens. When New Orleans fell to the Shediem, you did nothing to try to prevent it.”

  Taryn gave her a cold smile that was all teeth. “That’s not entirely true. You don’t have to trust us to be our allies.” She paused.“No one wants the Shediem gone more than us, however.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Emma snapped, folding her arms across her chest.“Otherwise you would have tried to protect your city.” She’d seen firsthand that there were few willing to protect the humans that remained, and it disgusted her. The Giborim, yes. But still, there were tens of thousands of humans that had fled because they had no one fighting for them.

  The Spellcaster laughed. “It’s always best to know when to pick your battles. My coven has had to fight and claw their way into even being recognized by other covens because we’re misfits in their eyes.” Her eyes flashed violet once again and flicked to Constance, who had her hands on her hips, lips pursed.

  “You took the Spellcasters you wanted for yourself and slaughtered anyone that stood in your way,” Constance spat.

  Taryn didn’t acknowledge the accusation laid at her feet, instead turning back to Blaze. “We’re willing to offer you our combined magic to help win this war. But, we’d like to return to Seattle with you. I know you need the protection, and my coven goes where I direct them.”

  “I’ll bet it does,” Blaze muttered.

  “And how do we know you won’t betray us or any of the other covens in the heat of battle, just to be on the winning team?” Gertie asked with more derision than Emma had ever heard from the kind lady’s lips.

  “You don’t,” Derrik confirmed, still smirking like a prince from his throne. “But I suspect you haven’t gotten much help today.”

  Emma looked at Blaze. His expression was blank, but she could sense the war taking place inside him. On the one hand, they
had volunteers willing to fight back in Seattle. On the other hand, they weren’t nearly enough.

  After a long silence where no one dared blink, Blaze responded. “You may accompany us to Washington. All the covens in the area were taken or pledged their allegiance to the Shediem willingly, so yes, we need you. You’ll be protected and fed; in exchange I demand you swear an oath that you will not betray us.”

  Taryn’s smile turned brittle. “I cannot swear it for all of my coven, but I will swear an oath that I will not order my Spellcasters to betray you.” She cocked her hip to the side with a sniff. “Besides, they all know that the penalty for their disobedience is death.”

  Blaze’s jaw was so tight, Emma feared he’d break it. Then he held out a hand to the coven leader, palm up. Emma’s brows furrowed.

  A sparkle of triumph lit Taryn’s eyes, and Derrik’s smile widened, flashing his white teeth.

  The Spellcaster placed her small hand in Blaze’s, and a deep purple light spread from her palm into his. “I swear my loyalty to Blaze Thomas, northwest regional leader of the Giborim. In battle my magic shall harm none but his enemies, until they or myself are vanquished.”

  Silver cords of light wrapped both their arms and flashed so bright Emma had to shield her eyes. She wondered how Taryn knew his full name, but even with a magical oath that made the Spellcaster unable to betray them, Emma still didn’t trust her.

  And her brother, who looked nothing like her, Emma trusted even less. His eyes had never looked away from her. Their dark depths seemed to know the secrets Emma couldn’t reveal. And his unnerving smile said he’d happily spill them all if she wasn’t careful.

  16

  Blaze

  The duo of Spellcasters invited themselves to stay for dinner. They made uncomfortable small talk with the other Spellcasters, the forced proximity making the

  urge to haul them out and tie them to trees for the Shediem to feast on nearly impossible to dismiss. Their prejudice against the siblings’ kind was palpable. Especially at Derrik, who watched Emma like a hawk circling a cornered rabbit.

  “We’re meant to stay a few more days. Where will you stay until then?” Blaze asked when the meal was decidedly over by everyone at the table pushing their food around instead of eating it. Well, except Taryn and Derrik. They ate like they hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks, and from the look of both of them, it was probable they hadn’t. Yet Blaze felt nearly certain they just wanted to put Constance out.

  The hatred in the room was thick enough to slice into. Taryn gulped down the last of her spiced eggnog and wiped her face with the back of her dainty hand—the same hand that now bore the imprint of an oath like shimmering glitter a preteen would wear. It reeked of her magic, which was not as pleasant as the other Spellcasters’, apart from Derrik. He hadn’t even used his and Blaze could scent the decay that occupied his body. A drug-addicted Spellcaster often smelled that way.

  His bloodshot eyes were all Blaze needed to know that Derrik was still high off whatever substance held him firmly in its grip. His sister’s frequent glances also told him that she kept him close simply to keep him from overdosing on the Shedieminfested streets.

  Taryn’s reputation had preceded her. There were rumors of a witch down in the south that assembled a ragtag band of Spellcasters and formed her own coven by tearing families apart and killing any coven leader who stood in her way. She ruled the streets with much more than an iron fist. It was intimidation and cruelty, plain and simple.

  Why she had sought them out still remained a mystery, one that Blaze intended to reveal. Before it got Gertie, or anyone else he cared about, killed.

  “Ah well, Constance certainly has the room to spare us—”

  “No, I most certainly do not!” Constance’s cheeks were red, and orange sparks flew from her fingertips but extinguished the moment they hit the floor.

  Taryn tilted back in the creaky wooden chair, grinning in that unnerving way of hers.“I swore to protect Blaze here.” She gestured with her glittering hand at Blaze, whose body was bunched with building aggression.

  Perhaps he and Axel would venture beyond the wards to hunt later tonight…

  Derrik nodded. “Six Spellcasters is better than four.” He glanced at Sergei.“More like three and a half.”

  Blaze’s fists and jaw clenched, a snarl escaping him. Emma laid a hand discreetly on his thigh beneath the table. Her touch soothed the jagged edges of his temper, but he wouldn’t let his guard down around Taryn or any member of her coven.“If you disrespect my friends, you won’t be around long enough to offer any help when the princes rise.”

  Emma sucked in a sharp, muted breath at his words. It was true that Blaze was usually controlled and metered in his anger, but with his brother’s odd behavior and Emma’s secrets, he was beginning to wear thin. Not to mention that time was nearly up. War was a reality they’d all be forced to face any minute.

  In his experience with past wars, it was always the unknown that drove people to brutality against their fellow man. Blaze reminded himself of that fact to reign in his loathing for the intruders. They needed allies. They were here for allies. And they didn’t need to be friends in order to fight for the same result.

  He stood before Taryn or her brother could respond, offering Emma a hand to help her to her feet. Her throat bobbed once before she took it and let him pull her around the long table and against his chest.

  His body relaxed marginally at her nearness. The steady rhythm of her heart and her sweet scent put him at ease when all else failed. But he would stay vigilant. He couldn’t afford to blink. People died when he looked away for even a second—a consequence he’d faced every day for over a century. He lived by two rules: never let your guard down, and never let them see your weaknesses.

  Blaze turned to Constance, who had set her magic to work, clearing plates and scrubbing dishes with the same fervor she did everything. Unspoken, he made his request. She huffed and stormed from the room.

  A moment later she tossed a skeleton key onto the table in front of Taryn. “Down the hall to your right. Second door on your left.”

  Which put them across the hall from himself, Axel, and Sergei. Blaze resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

  “Thank you, Constance.” Taryn’s words sounded sincere— almost.

  She said nothing, but stalked out again, leaving her magic to clean up the feast she’d prepared for them all.

  “Come.” Blaze led Emma from the room without another word to anyone.

  She waved goodnight to Gertie and Sergei, but Derrik’s whispered words made Blaze’s grip on her tighten.

  “See you soon, Shediem-Slayer.”

  He ushered her down the hall at a brisk pace, and once he stopped outside her door, he hastily pressed her against it, needing to feel her against him again. He lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was harsh and bruising, but she responded in kind, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes, pulling him closer.

  Another presence stepped softly down the hall. The familiar sensation of his brother made him groan internally—Axel always seemed to interrupt at the worst times. Reluctantly, Blaze broke the passionate embrace to search for Axel.

  His brother leaned against the opposite wall ten or so feet away, hands in his pockets, eyes cloudy but watchful. He looked more lucid than he had when they left Seattle. Perhaps the distance between him and his betrothed was doing him some good. Another few days, and he might make a snarky comment the way he usually did.

  “Generally, brother, when one of us is engaged in such activities, it is polite to stay away.” Blaze’s voice dripped with an irritation that he felt incapable of hiding lately.

  Axel shrugged, then pushed off from the wall and strode toward them.“Just making sure you don’t break the covenant of your existence.”

  His words were a slap in the face—Axel didn’t believe in the prejudice nonsense that said Giborim could only marry Giborim. Even Emma blinked in surprise. Then color bloome
d on her pale cheeks, her eyes brimming with shame. When her shoulders rounded, Blaze wanted to put his fist through his brother’s face for making her feel bad about being with him.

  “Go babysit someone else!” His voice was louder and more cutting than he’d meant—making Emma flinch—but Axel just shook his head with a scoff and walked away.

  “I should go,” Emma murmured, spinning away from him to dig the room key from her pocket and unlock the door with shaking hands.

  Blaze grabbed her shoulder, halting her. He wanted to turn her around and show her just how unashamed of her he was, but her warmth slid out of his grasp and the door clicked shut in his face.

  He growled. For several moments, he stood outside her door, fists curled tight. He considered knocking, but before his knuckles could meet the cool wood, his satellite phone buzzed in his pocket. Only a handful of people could call him on it, and three of those people were here with him.

  Which left his uncle and Dominic, both under orders not to contact him unless it was an emergency.

  He pulled out the phone and a chunk of ice fell into his gut at the sight of his uncle’s number on the screen.

  His strides were quick and long down the hall when he barked,“Yes?”

  “I just thought you should know the wards were breached. Small attack, six injured, no fatalities.” His uncle spoke with the same easy manner as one did when discussing the weather.

  Blaze threw open the door to his room. Sergei and Axel both looked up from their separate mattresses. Sergei seemed concerned, but Axel just looked annoyed.

  Blaze ignored them.“What? How many attacked? How did they get through the damn wards? Where’s Dominic? I need to speak to him.”

  “Your cousin is busy consoling that pitiful human you brought here,” his uncle sneered. “As for the wards, I have no idea how the Shediem got through. They weren’t broken, but still intact.”

  Sergei jumped to his feet, looking ready to burst into action. Axel’s pallid face lost even more of its color.