by J M Thomas
“Splendid!” Hugo did a little dance in place. “I’ll take the rest of those medical supplies, unless you need some for your own injuries.”
Aeron hopped up so fast he nearly smashed the teacup and saucer in his hands. He whirled around to scan over me with his brow drawn. “You’re ‘urt?”
“Bruised, scraped, maybe a cracked rib. Breathing isn’t exactly fun right now.” I tried another deep breath on for size, then immediately regretted my foolishness. “Yeah, ow. Cracked seems likely. There’s a rip in my favorite shorts, too.” I let the blanket fall off my lap to show him.
“Mind if I take a look?” Aeron knelt to one knee again as Hugo darted out to help a customer.
“At my shorts?” I inclined my head.
“No, you nutter.” He gestured for me to lose the blanket robe. “Your rib. I can see the rip across your leg from ‘ere. Surprised it didn’t leave a gash.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” I set my teacup safely off to the side, sad that it was already empty. I laid on my belly on the cot, then tried to motion to him where the spot was that hurt. The pain stopped me from quite reaching the place.
“‘Ere?” he asked, gently touching one spot.
“No, higher and to the left a little. You can move my shirt. It’s just my back.”
“I ain’t assumin’ nuffink,” Aeron griped as he pulled my shirt away from the spot. He hissed as if somebody’d skeeted his cuts with lemon juice, then clicked his tongue disapprovingly at me. “Lessie!”
I groaned. “What’d I do?”
“You should’ve told me.” His fingertip was cool as he laid it against the spot. “‘Ere it is.”
White hot pain lanced through me at even his gentle touch. I barely managed a whimpered “mhmm” through trying not to cry out.
“Ice.” Aeron snapped his fingers at Hugo.
“Ice, please.” Hugo rose and complied anyway, as if waiting for Aeron to ask him politely for something was a good way to be in a standoff forever.
“Aww, Lessie.” There was a hint of something sad and wistful in Aeron’s voice as he baptized the last clean gauze square in witch hazel, then mopped it over my back. “What ‘appened?”
“I got run down,” I said with a grunt. “I managed to miss the first hit, but the second one clipped me. Don brought me here for safekeeping.”
“Wivout your shoes?”
“And a few other things. He thought I might be tempted to hang myself.”
Aeron let out a wheeze. “So I pays good money for an assassin who lets you get ‘it by a car, but not keep your shoes on. Brilliant.” His voice fairly dripped sarcasm. “I imagine that’s ‘im blowin’ up my phone, tellin’ me to keep my distance, innit?”
As I listened harder, I heard it, too—the buzzing of a vibrating phone being lit up with calls and texts. That sounded about right. I expected Hugo to get another storming customer visit from a nervous Don.
“Hugo might let me make a call…” I offered.
“Nah. ‘E’ll figure it out soon enough.” Aeron pressed around the bruising one more time, then lowered my shirt. When Hugo returned, Aeron set the ice on top of the cracked rib, angling it so it’d stay on as long as I lay still.
I grimaced as the cold sent aching throbs through my body. “That’s gonna feel so rough tomorrow.”
“The good news is, if it’s cracked, it’s only just. The bad news is you’ve got some nasty bruisin’ and swellin’.” He flipped the gauze around to the clean side, then took on the scrapes on my elbows, scrubbing like they’d affronted him personally. “You’re in for a world of ‘urt.”
I cringed, already feeling a taste of that hurt with the rough nursing. “But hey. At least I’m not alone. Thanks, Aeron.”
“‘At, you’re not, love.” He tossed the used gauze in the general direction of Hugo’s side of the bars, then sat against the wall at the head of the cot. His bulk cast a long shadow over my face. There seemed to be a war going on in his head, some decision he was debating.
Finally, after a minute or two, he slid his hand up next to mine, tracing the heel of my palm with his index finger. His gaze held mine with an offer.
Time seemed to stand still, the moment frozen.
Before it could slip away, I folded my hand into his, letting his fingers envelop and grip me with his strength and warmth. Aeron’s thumb continued to caress mine as we contemplated this choice to reach for each other, this doorway into a million other choices.
Whole worlds waited beyond this door, so we just sat silently on the threshold. In that moment, we held onto each other, not ready to step through, but not willing to shut the door again.
Beyond the soft lamplight, the door bells rang their happy tune as customers came and milled around in Hugo’s shop. His voice sounded only slightly strained through the door as he chatted away, offered recommendations, and finalized purchases.
The sound faded into dreaming as I drifted off to sleep. Aeron must have also drifted off, our hands still folded into each other, because the same loud banging that woke me with a start also made him jump.
A “No, sir, you can’t just…” from Hugo preceded the door lock separating us from the shop being shaken violently.
“Lyons!” Don’s unmistakeable commanding voice cut through the noise.
“We’re alright,” Aeron called back, his eyes still shut. “Bugger off, you prick.
“You should’ve used the damned bubble wrap!” Don called, then his footsteps stormed off. The bells jingled against his misery as the shop door slammed behind the assassin.
“Aww, but where’s the fun in ‘at, eh?” Aeron whispered. He gave me a wan half-smile, then rested his head against the wall. A funny look came over his face as his eyes flew open. “Seriously, what’d you do to my back?”
“I pulled all the barbs out and set them down gently so they wouldn’t be stuck in your skin.”
I thought for a second Aeron’s eyebrows were going to take their leave and come clean off his face. “Well fuck me! Don’t know as I can remember not feelin’ a prickle.”
“You’re welcome.” I managed a wry smile. “I assume that’s not supposed to happen.”
“You ‘ave no filament. Most anyfink is possible. Did not imagine ‘at one, though.” He tucked his feet beneath him, then kicked up to standing again. “Let’s ‘ave a look at that rib again, shall we?”
“Be my guest.” The ice had numbed the skin a little, but most of it’d melted with the heat from my body. I felt less pain as he prodded the area.
He was still frowning, though. “Deep breaf.”
I got the breath about halfway in before the pain became unbearable. The air escaped in a jagged whoosh.
He tsked his tongue. “You gotta get deep breafs, much as you can, or you’ll catch pneumonia.” His fingers shifted higher on my back. “Try again.”
I braced myself, then took a quick, deep breath, letting it out with a little “aah” of pain with it.
“Again.”
I whimpered. As I drew the air into my lungs, Aeron pressed on the sore area. It crunched like someone had stepped on a corn chip. I cried out, then stifled the noise by burying my face in my arm.
“Sorry, sorry. ‘Ad to see wiv the swellin’ down. Yeah, it’s cracked.” Aeron leaned back a bit, easing up the pressure. “No more running down movin’ cars for you, missy Lessie.”
“I’ll… do my best,” I managed, trying to catch my breath without breathing.
“Easy and deep, Lessie. Slow, easy, deep.” He gave me a little wink. “So long as ‘at’s ‘ow you like it, yeah?”
I blushed, sharply intaking another breath at the insinuation.
“Gotcha. But you did take anovver breaf, yeah?” Aeron laughed, then patted me on the shoulder, replacing the ice pack. “I’ve ‘ad one or two of ‘ese in my day.” He glanced toward the door. “I’ll see if ‘Ugo can get you some pills.”
“No. No meds,” I said quickly. “I... don’t want anything running through my
system right now.”
“It’s your body. Your pain.” He slid down the wall again to sit close to my head. This time, he took my hand in both of his, stroking my knuckles with his fingertips.
Tenderness filled his gesture, and he had a faraway look in his eyes. “I don’t know ‘ow to say this, Lessie, but I like you a lot. It pains me to see you ‘urt, even a little.”
My throat closed over a little. “I feel the same way. Only, I’m not sure there’s much I can do to protect you back. You run toward the danger while I keep being crippled by indecision until it’s too late.” I ran a hand through my tangled hair. “God, I hate it.”
“Keep pushin’ frough. You’ll arrive soon enough.” He fell silent for a moment, his gaze on the bare floor. Then, Aeron stared up at me, seriousness and hope stretched across his features. “When we get out of this, I’d like to take you out proper, ‘ave a good time. ‘Ow do you feel about a nice curry?”
I couldn’t help but brighten through the pain. “I would love to go get curry with you, Aeron. That sounds wonderful.”
“Good, because I’ve tried every single shop in Wachenta what sells the stuff, and ‘ere’s a little place off Fird Avenue what’s got the best vindaloo.” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
The brush of his lips sent happy shivers up my spine. I involuntarily drew a deep breath, which of course hurt like heck.
“Aha! So now we knows what’ll remind you to breathe deep.” His smile broadened into that devilish, provoking grin as he slowly pulled my hand up to his lips again.
“Uggh. No… now I don’t know whether to tell you to stop or to tell you to keep going.” I smiled past the grimace.
Aeron gave a little wheeze of a laugh, then brushed my knuckles with his lips again. “Slow, deep breafs, love.” His scarred lip pulled back into a smirk. “Slow and deep.”
I hissed through my teeth, partly in pain and partly because of the thrills. “Okay, I’m breathing, geez. Got it.” I pulled my hand free for a moment, then slowly worked my way up to sitting on the cot. “Stay there,” I said as he made a move to rise. Gingerly, I worked my way to standing, set the ice pack aside, then wobbled my way over to lower myself into his lap.
Aeron lowered his shackled wrists around my back, careful to avoid the cracked rib. He closed his eyes as I rested my forehead against his, waiting for the ragged breaths and the pain they brought me to subside again.
One hand I buried in his hair. The other rested on his muscled shoulder, letting his strength ripple beneath my touch. As his lips sought for mine, the door opened.
Hugo let out a startled laugh. “I leave you two alone for ten minutes, and this is what I come back to?”
“Gotta pass the time some’ow.” Aeron grinned, nestling his arms around me like he had no intention of moving just because we’d been rudely interrupted. “The lady requires pain management, and I mean to give it to ‘er. He whispered in my ear, “slow, deep breafs…”
“Stop it!” I laughed, giving him a playful swipe across the top of his head.
“I’d suggest the two of you get a room, but…” Hugo made an encompassing sweep of his upturned palms. “So I’ll skip straight to the point. Council meets after closing time, and the watchling delegation will be here after that, so we have another twenty minutes or so until the first few people arrive. I’ve arranged for delivery that should be here in five minutes, so you won’t be hungry if the meeting goes long.” He whirled on his heel and headed out again. “Happy pain management! Mazel tov!”
When Hugo shut the door again, I pulled away for a moment. “Aeron… what happens if they find you guilty?”
“They’d turn me over to the auforities.” Aeron crinkled his nose, whether in distaste or disappointment, I wasn’t sure. “I’d be extradited to London to await confirmation at the Ministry’s necromancing branch.”
I braced my rib cage with one hand before leaning back to keep a lock on his gaze. “And if that goes badly?”
“Aw, come on. You really fink they’re gonna send me up the Thames for savin’ a boy’s life? Nah, worst I’ll get is a slap for not disclosing it prior to my being posted ‘ere.” Aeron rubbed my nose with his. “Don’t you worry that chung face o’ yours, hmm?”
“But I do worry.” I brushed his cheek with my hand. “People don’t always go into these things wanting to know the bare-knuckles truth of the matter. How do you know somebody won’t have a vendetta or agenda against you?”
He locked eyes with me and held my gaze. “Oh, ‘ey will, indeed. In fact, I’ve ‘ad nuffink but grief from this guild since the day it first met. But you know what? We necros might be rubbish as a whole, but individually, we got some good people. And I gotta rely on ‘at goin’ in, right?”
I nodded, wishing I shared his optimism as I buried my head on his shoulder. “I don’t want you to have to go. I want to get out of here, go get a curry…”
“...’Ead back to my place, let me lips ya all night long? Nuffink else, just kisses?” Aeron kissed my forehead, then lifted his arms from around me so he could brush across my bottom lip with his index finger. “And ‘at’s what we’ll do, orright? It’ll be our official fing we did. A story for the grands, innit?”
His devilish grin was back as his forehead met mine again, his gaze still lingering on my lips. “All the more reason to make sure the two of us get out of this mess in one piece.” He stared into my eyes, his own twinkling. “We’ll call this our little date, starting right now. We ‘ave the meetin’, then the curry, then the kisses. You best be gettin’ primped.”
I winked. “Depends on how good the curry is.” It took me a minute to get back up off his lap and ease myself onto the cot, and I was sweating from the discomfort by the time I sat again.
As soon as Aeron managed to get up, Hugo was back with some takeout boxes.
“I tried to guess what your favorites were. Orange chicken for the lady and kung pao for the gentleman.” Hugo passed a box and a plastic spork to each of us. “Oh, and I finally found them, Aeron, so you can have your hands back.”
Hugo held up a pair of locking bracelets, which Aeron clicked over his own wrists before holding up the cuffs to be removed. “No casting with these on, got it?” Hugo gestured with the key before inserting it in the lock. “It won’t work, and it won’t feel great, either.”
Aeron rolled his eyes, tightening the thin silver bracelets on his wrists. They had some kind of glyph painted on them, which I assumed had to be magical. “Got it.”
“Nice bling.” I poked Aeron in the arm, and he gave me a look while Hugo took his regular cuffs back.
When he returned from putting things away, Hugo bustled about like he was hosting Thanksgiving. “I’ll retrieve your things and pass them to you. Once everyone is seated, I’ll come back and bring you in, too, Celeste.”
“Why don’t I just come now?” I asked around bites of food.
Hugo crinkled his forehead. “There isn’t much reason to…”
“I can be his emotional support… wench.” I snickered, which hurt.
With a sigh of mock exasperation, Hugo waved his hand. “He’ll be impossible without you there to show off his best manners to, so sure. Emotional support wench. I’ll put it on your nametag.”
I had a feeling Aeron would be impossible with or without my presence, but I wasn’t about to contradict Hugo’s point in my favor. I was getting the opportunity of a lifetime—a peek inside the inner workings of a meeting between warring magical factions on the verge of a crisis, even if containing Aeron was a hopeless cause. Even getting to be in the room, as someone who belonged to neither faction, was an incredible honor.
So, why did I suspect I was going to deeply regret stepping through those doors?
Chapter 25 – Betrayal Traps
Hugo opened the door to the cell, offering Aeron a garment not unlike an oversized, thin bathrobe. He slid his arms into the charcoal grey fabric, then tied the cloth belt over his waist. The hood
came forward, almost entirely concealing his eyes.
Despite the fact that I was wearing ripped shorts and a casual shirt with Aeron’s jacket over it all, neither of them offered me any kind of ceremonial outfit to put on over my street clothes. I wasn’t cold anymore, just terribly underdressed in my bare feet and no bra. At least the jacket meant I didn’t have to worry about indecency—it swallowed me whole.
Hugo had a slightly different robe for the meeting: a poncho he slipped over his head. Its pattern looked like it’d come straight from the plains peoples, with a geometric design I recognized from the stupid “sole/soul trap” rug he’d caught me with the first time I’d come here.
In the center was a dog’s head with bared teeth biting a circle with a star symbol between it. It matched the shape of the medallion he wore around his neck, which he’d used to open and shut the door.
The passageway at the far end of the room opened into a surprisingly large chamber, almost thirty feet to a side. Stairs led downward from where we stood toward the center of the room, leading me to wonder if it’d been dug out beneath the shop or if it had been part of the original floorplan. The design drew the eye and the ear inward to the center of the room, easily accommodating thirty people without requiring amplification.
As we made our way down a few steps, each level had narrow tables serving in a desk-like capacity, each long enough to accommodate three chairs. The grey carpet was a light, smoky color, and soft beneath my bare feet. I dug my toes into it, enjoying the looped piling, but not enjoying the grating in my ribs when I took a step down.
Aeron picked a chair near the center left side of the auditorium. We pulled up to a table, then Hugo took the third chair and set it in the center, taking his place at the very back of the center circle.
“So… those your special magic pajamas?” I asked Aeron as I sat, going for a lighthearted approach in hopes of learning something about this gathering before more people showed up.
He stared at the empty room, a faraway look in his eyes.