by Jocelyn Fox
“We don’t rightly know if it was won,” Merrick pointed out in a carefully smooth voice.
“The portal closed behind us,” said Luca wearily. “I think that means the Queens bound and broke Malravenar.” He sat experimentally on the edge of the futon, testing to ensure that it could handle his weight.
“It’s held two people before,” said Ross reassuringly, pretending she didn’t see Duke’s sudden pained look at her statement. “I think you should both get some rest. Noah can explain the rest to me.” She walked across the room and showed Merrick how to switch off the tall lamp. He nodded, gray eyes glimmering in his pale face as he stared out again into the darkness. Luca laid down on the futon, the bed creaking slightly but holding steady beneath his weight.
“I’ll be on the couch in the living room if anything happens,” said Duke to Merrick. The Sidhe nodded, his gray eyes flickering to Luca, who looked like he had already fallen asleep. Duke walked back out into the hallway and Ross followed, shutting the door behind them.
“You’re sleeping on the couch?” Ross asked in the painstakingly neutral voice that she used when she had a very strong opinion on something but didn’t want to show it.
Duke took a deep breath. Traditionally, he treaded lightly when Ross used that voice, but he was so damn tired. He ran a hand through his hair again. “I thought it would be easiest for tonight.”
They drifted to a halt in the middle of the living room. Ross shoved her thumbs into her pockets and swallowed. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“If I take another step toward you, will you just promise not to slap me again?” Duke said gently, a smile in his voice and on his lips. God, he wanted to hold her. He ached to touch her. He had thought that he hadn’t forgotten her beauty, but the details blurred after months apart. Now he marveled again at the subtle golden flecks in the irises of her dark brown eyes, the smooth sharp plane of her cheekbones, the tawny gold of her skin, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose.
She didn’t reply, so he slowly closed the distance between them, giving her plenty of time to say something or step back. She didn’t move away, but she crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. When she looked up at him, her almond-shaped eyes were wide with pain.
“They declared you dead, Noah. Your whole team.” Her voice trembled slightly. “The investigation took months. They wouldn’t tell us much, other than you’d been attacked and, they thought, hit by an IED. They found your vehicle and some of your kit. Or the shell of it, anyway.” She swallowed hard and looked away but continued doggedly. “They told us that your bodies were burned with some kind of accelerant or explosive they couldn’t identify. The fire burned so hot that they couldn’t get anything reliable for DNA testing.” She hugged herself harder. “They folded a flag for me at your funeral, Noah. It was my worst nightmare.”
He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t watch her try to fend off the tears and comfort herself, as she’d had to do while he was gone. He reached out and folded her into his arms; she stiffened for a breath and then melted into him as though her bones had disappeared, pressing her face into his chest so hard that he felt the sharpness of her cheekbone against his sternum. The warm wetness of her tears soaked through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. She was shaking. He guided them to the couch and carefully sat down, cradling her against his chest. She freed one arm and slid it under his arm, her hand gripping his shoulder with an almost painful urgency, like she was afraid that he wasn’t real, or that if she let him go he’d evaporate, a figment of her imagination. He stroked her dark hair and said softly, “I’m so sorry, Ross. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I...” He didn’t have words. There was nothing to say. He’d followed Liam into the Fae world out of loyalty; he’d had a choice to make and in the heat of battle he couldn’t let the leader of his team be dragged away by those faceless monstrosities.
After a few minutes, Ross raised her face from his chest, her eyes red. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what really happened.”
“Half of it’s gonna sound crazy. Some of it I still don’t know if I believe myself, and I saw it with my own two eyes.”
“I don’t care,” Ross said with sudden vehemence. “I need to know what happened. I spent almost a year thinking that you…you were killed and then burned. Burned, Noah.” Her voice was shaking with anger now. “I didn’t know whether those bastards had done anything else to you and the boys. Nobody could give me any answers.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Anything you tell me will be better than what I thought happened to you.” Her hand tightened on his shoulder again. “And even if you’re fruit-loops crazy, you’re here. You’re…here.”
“I’m here,” he agreed softly, “and I’m alive, and I’m only as fruit-loops crazy as when I left.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “At least I think.”
She smacked him lightly on the chest with her free hand. “Start talking, mister.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and despite the exhaustion aching in his bones, he reached back in his mind to the day that they’d been on patrol. The ground had shaken and the sky darkened like some unnatural storm, an earthquake and a hell-raising tempest swirling around them, sweeping them into what felt like another realm, complete with its own monsters. It had happened once before, but not as harshly, the ground shaking, at least, and that’s when they’d first met Finnead and Luca. They’d known Liam’s sister. Luck had been strangely calm about Tess’s disappearance. It was like he’d flipped a switch. He got up one morning, sent a few emails out on his laptop, and then that evening he relaxed for the first time since he’d gotten the word that his baby sister had vanished. Run away, their mother postulated scornfully. Duke had heard part of that Skype call, even through his noise canceling headphones.
He told the story to Ross as best he could. His mouth went dry and his voice became hoarse from talking for so long, but he pressed on. If he’d had to go to Ross’s funeral…he didn’t know what he’d have done. If he’d had to watch the flag draped over her casket folded with solemn precision, and then handed to him, a heavy triangle of lost possibilities, torn dreams and the strange hard pride of sacrifice. She had survived it, and he’d survived his foray into Faeortalam. He told her about the Northern mountains, the skirmishes with the strange, deformed creatures and the sense that Liam wasn’t telling them everything. But they trusted each other with their lives, so they let Luck have his secret. And then knowing they were being tracked, knowing that they couldn’t overcome these ravenous monsters in the wilderness for long, finding the ledge and deciding that’s where they would make their last stand. He told her about the Valkyrie and about the sword wielding woman who had leapt her horse over the rocks bordering the ledge, killing one of the deformed wolves that had been tracking them. Ross’s eyes widened slightly when he told her that the sword-wielding woman was Liam’s sister, Tess.
“Wait,” she interrupted. “So Tess…she disappeared too, with her friend Molly. And you’re telling me they both traveled to this other world, too?”
“Yes,” said Duke. “Like I said, half-crazy. But I saw her. I fought alongside her.” He smiled a little at the memory. “She got damn good with that sword. And she had another sword, a…a magic sword. She said that she was the descendant of a priestess who had been the last one to bear the Sword, a couple of centuries ago.”
“A couple of centuries ago,” repeated Ross. She sat up straighter and slid back a little in his lap so that she could see him without straining her neck.
Duke shrugged. “I didn’t see that part. I don’t know.”
“Okay,” said Ross slowly. She’d met Tess when the unit had returned from their last deployment, and she’d liked the younger woman, but she hadn’t pegged her as a warrior, tough as nails. Then again, that had been almost three years ago now, and Tess had just finished her freshman year of college, bright eyed with possibility. Ross had gotten back from her final deployment a few months before the homecoming, and she admitted now that she’d pro
bably been a bit prickly. Maybe she’d judged Tess too harshly. “I wouldn’t have…never mind. Go on.”
Duke grinned. “Looking back to when I met Tess, I wouldn’t have expected it either.”
Ross smiled and they looked at each other quietly for a moment.
“What’s this battle that Luca was talking about?” she asked softly.
Duke took a deep breath and dove into the rest of the story. He told Ross about the journey across the Deadlands, traveling with the Wild Court and seeing Queen Titania and Queen Mab from a distance. Her dark eyes kindled with interest as he described Vell and the ulfdrengr, trying to capture the bond between the warriors and their magnificent wolves. He attempted to explain the darkness and evil that they’d felt after crossing through the portal into the courtyard of the Dark Keep, time undulating around them as they fought what felt like an unending tide of his dark creations. His words ran dry when he got to the part in the throne room.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just can’t…words don’t do it justice. I’m not good with words anyway.”
“You’ve done fine,” said Ross quietly. “Thank you.”
Duke heaved a frustrated sigh. “We saw her opening the portal. I heard Tess shout to stop her. She had a cup of blood…Liam got there first and she… she stabbed him. I didn’t see her move, but she stabbed him. I tried to stop her but she…” He mimed picking something up and throwing it with his free hand. “She just grabbed me and slammed me into something. The altar, I think. I blacked out. When I woke up, I was laying in the grass by the river a couple miles down the road from the gas station in Cairn.”
“How did Luca and Merrick get drawn through too?” Ross asked.
“I’m guessing that the portal opened and sucked me through. One of them must have grabbed me to try and pull me away from it. Chain reaction. And we all ended up here.” Duke shrugged. “I don’t know how it works. But it closed behind us.”
“You’re sure? You’re sure it’s closed and there’s not any of those creatures that can come through?”
“I thought you wouldn’t believe me,” Duke said wonderingly, “and here you are askin’ all the questions that I should’ve thought of.” He smiled slightly. “Kinda like old times.”
Ross made a noncommittal sound and chewed on her lip distractedly. She slid off his lap and stood, stretching her arms over her head. “Whatever Merrick did…that was real. That was…magic, I guess. I don’t know what to call it.” She shook her head. “God, what a day.”
“Not every day your fiancé returns from the dead,” agreed Duke, arching an eyebrow.
“Don’t joke about it,” she snapped. Then she softened. “At least…not yet. I’m just…still processing.”
“Sorry.” Duke leaned his elbows on his knees. He felt like he was screwing everything up and he hadn’t even been back a full day, like he was trying to find solid ground in the swamp, testing the hillocks of marsh grass and half expecting to be plunged into the warm, brackish waters.
“No…no, it’s okay.” Ross sat down on the couch beside him and sighed. “I just…I don’t know how to navigate this.” A sliver of a smile appeared on her lips. “There’s no standard operating procedure for your dead fiancé suddenly appearing with a Viking and an elf in tow.”
Duke chuckled. “First of all, you just said no joking.”
“So? I can disregard my own rules,” Ross said primly.
“And second, I’d like to see you tell Luca and Merrick that to their faces.”
“Maybe I will,” she said in that same mockingly proper voice.
Duke swore softly under his breath and scrubbed at his face with one hand. He itched to scoop her into his arms and kiss her silly…his mind slid down that rabbit hole and he wanted to do so much more than kiss her but he reeled himself back. Easy. Just like coming back from deployment. They had to get to know each other again. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses and rainbows. And this time he was coming back from the grave, not from an overseas combat zone.
Ross interrupted his thoughts by placing her hands squarely on his thighs. He froze and slowly opened his eyes. She slid her body between his knees. He swallowed hard, keeping carefully still as she leaned toward him and kissed him. His hands gripped the cushion of the couch as he forced himself to let her set the pace. After a long, gentle kiss – tasting, reacquainting – Ross drew back. Duke stared up at her, breathing raggedly, not caring that she could plainly see his intense desire.
“Are you sure you want to sleep on the couch?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her eyes were drowning-dark and kiss-drunken, but the thread of uncertainty in her words only confirmed what he knew he had to say.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “God, Ross, I don’t wanna sleep on the couch. I wanna…well, you know what I wanna do.” He gestured to himself. “Goddamn Exhibit A.” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “But what I want more than that…and God, do I want that…what I want more than that is to do this right. To not screw it up.” Another deep breath and the riptide of desire receded just slightly. Enough for him to firm his resolve. “You’ve been through a lot. I don’t wanna push you too hard too soon.”
She reached out and touched his cheek, a rare soft gesture from the hard as steel woman that he knew and loved. “You know me better than I know myself. You’re right.”
He smiled a little ruefully. “Wish I wasn’t.”
She smiled in reply. “It’ll make it better in the end, I think.”
“Cold comfort now,” he said, and then hastily backpedaled. He didn’t want to make her feel as though he was only doing this because it was what she wanted. He knew it was the right thing to do. “I mean…I’m tired as all get out. Wouldn’t be my best performance anyway.” He gave her the best smile he could manage.
“Let me grab you some blankets and a pillow,” she said, padding across the room and disappearing momentarily into the hallway. She winced as she tried unsuccessfully to fluff the lopsided pillow and Duke unfolded one of the rather threadbare blankets. “Sorry. Scraping the bottom of the barrel. It’s not often we have three guests at once.”
“No worries. I’ve slept in worse places.” He smiled.
“You and I both know that,” she retorted. She tossed down the pillow and contemplated the front door, Merrick’s white chalk runes barely visible against the light frame. But his bloody fingerprint, now preserved in silver, still glowed faintly in the center of the intricate spiral rune in the center of the door. She looked at Duke. “If you’re sure nothing came through, why did Merrick want to put up these protections?”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” Duke said heavily. “I just…I think that if something had followed us, we’d have run into it by now.”
“From what you said, the enemy might be smarter than you give them credit for,” Ross murmured. Then she looked at him with a businesslike air. “May will sleep in my room tonight. I’ll introduce you to her tomorrow morning.” Without an explanation, she walked quickly down the hallway. Duke heard her open a drawer in her bedroom. She returned with a pistol and two magazines. “Remember how to use one of these?”
“This is a new Glock,” he said approvingly, watching as Ross showed him clear and safe – that the weapon was unloaded – and handed it to him, grip first. He checked the rounds in the magazines.
“I have the Beretta in my room still,” she said. “Oh, and May is a retired working dog. So if something gets in and you hear me let her out, just get out of her way.”
“Shepherd?” Duke asked about the dog, contemplating the best place to stash the pistol and magazines. He wasn’t sure if bullets would work against any sort of monster that had followed them through the portal, but they sure as hell couldn’t hurt.
“Malinois,” replied Ross. She smiled faintly. “Brett got in touch with me after your funeral. Thought I could use some company, and I have to admit I like having her around.”
“May is a weird name for a combat dog
,” said Duke, half to himself.
“Oh, that’s just her nickname,” said Ross with a grin. “Her full name is Mayhem.”
Duke chuckled. “That’s more like it.” He settled on a place to stash the Glock and magazines, and then sat down on the couch. “So you’ve got a magic spell on the house, a working dog named Mayhem, and me with a Glock on the couch by the front door. I think you’re pretty well covered.”
Instead of smiling, Ross looked serious. “I hope so.” She stepped close again. Duke stopped breathing. She kissed his forehead. “I love you.” She said the words softly, like she was afraid if she said them louder she’d break the spell that had somehow brought him back to her.
“I love you, too,” Duke said as she straightened. They smiled at each other for a long moment.
“See you in the morning.” Ross turned off the light as she walked back toward her bedroom.
Duke settled onto the couch, pulled the threadbare blanket over him and closed his eyes, knowing that sleep would be difficult despite the tiredness seeping into his very bones. He hoped that he didn’t mess things up with Ross. He hoped that he could navigate a world that thought he was dead. And he hoped most of all that he hadn’t brought danger to this small, sleepy Louisiana town. His thoughts whirled, but shortly his body succumbed and he drifted into sleep.
In the hot heavy darkness outside the small house, a lone figure stood on the road. The lanky man stared at the house through the shadows, an inky blackness sliding unnaturally in the whites of his eyes. He spat a stream of tobacco juice into a white Styrofoam cup and thought to himself that his master would be very pleased.