by Amelia Shaw
Even the captain crept forward to get a look at what Fin had taken out. My knees hit the case and my fingers itched to open the box. The order pounded in my head: Open the box. Open the box. Open the box.
Fin flipped the clasp, threw back the lid, and stepped away as if a jack in the box would launch itself at him. I had no such fear. The blades sang to me, not like a symphony or a drum, but like a heartbeat. A steady thump I could feel in my hands, under my skin, in my chest.
“Talk to me,” Fin said. “What do you feel?”
The captain hovered to my right as I came around the display case to get a better look at the knives. They were beautiful, a long as my forearm, almost as wide, and slick black, like ice.
“What are they?”
Fin stayed back a few feet but answered. “Black steel. Forged by mages, for mages.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “For mages?”
He inclined his head. “Take them out. See how they feel to you.”
“Will I catch fire or start doing a chicken dance or something?”
His chuckle shot through me, waking things up, sweeping into nooks and crannies. “No tricks, I promise. Touch them.”
Needing no further prompting, I reached into the box and gripped a knife in each hand. The second my skin met the hilts, it was as if a wire travelled through me, arcing around my shoulders down my other arm to the second knife.
“How does it feel?” Fin asked.
“Cold. It feels cold. But also, a little like a possession. They’ve connected to me. I can feel them waiting and ready to draw blood, to defend me. Damn, I hope they don’t make me wake up in the middle of the night and slaughter everyone. If they are mage crafted, does that mean they will the people around me...”
I trailed off, not wanting to discuss the rest of my personal history with the captain present.
“If they claimed you, then they can’t hurt you,” Fin said. “Even if someone stole them and tried to cut you, they wouldn’t be able to.”
I stared down at the shiny, sharp edges. “That’s handy. Someone tries to jack you and they can’t do anything with them.”
Fin turned to the back of the room and returned with a hip sheath. I let him attach and adjust it on me. Then I slid the knives into the leather pockets and waited. They still sang to me, yet another presence inside my head.
I nodded my head as I assessed the sensation. “Still feels weird, but kinda cool. I like it.”
The captain rolled his eyes and Fin chuckled.
Then the pair shot into action. Fin chose his sword, which he strapped across his back. He put knives against his forearms and a gun at the small of his back.
I pointed to it. “Good way to shoot yourself.”
“Safety’s on, of course.”
“Of course,” I said.
I didn’t see what the Captain chose, and I didn’t care.
“So back to the forest?”
Fin walked out of the room and I scrambled to follow him down the hall. It appeared we were just down from the sparring rooms in the basement.
“You know, it’s probably still a trap,” I said. “The first time was tame, so we’d let down our guard and go back.”
Fin stopped short and spun to face me. “Do you think everything’s a trap?”
“Obviously, yes. It’s how I’ve kept myself alive this long. Because, eventually, everything is a trap.”
Fin huffed at me and continued his walk. The helicopter already sat running on his massive lawn.
Shit. I didn’t want to go back up in that thing.
This time, the captain climbed into the driver’s seat and Fin slid into the back. They both sat waiting for me.
“Can I just stay here?” I asked from outside the helicopter. “You guys go ahead. Text me if you find something.”
Fin waved at me to join them. I sighed and ran toward the spinning death machine. As I approached, Fin scooted into the farther seat and I took the one next to him. He handed me a pair of headphones and I heard the captain’s voice repeating some commands through the microphone.
“If this thing doesn’t kill me, whatever is in that forest might,” I said.
Fin tipped his head toward me and gave me a smile. It set my insides fluttering so much I forgot to keep complaining.
But nothing could stop the fear creeping along my spine. We were going back to the forest that haunted my dreams and this time, I had a very bad feeling, we wouldn’t make it out alive.
Chapter Thirteen
The jumble in my belly became worse as we flew toward what I knew to be certain death. Did mages have premonition power? Because my nerves hummed with the thought that going to this forest was a terrible idea. I tried to express that opinion several times to the men, but they ignored me, same as they did every time I whined when the helicopter took a tilt in any direction that wasn’t completely straight.
The knives however provided some emotional support. I didn’t expect to feel safer wearing them. It was as if through their power they reassured me they would get me through anything at all. Whether I turned out to be fae born, or mage born, or whatever mutt mix comes from that pairing, at least the knives thought I was mage enough to use them. It gave me a sense of pride, something I hadn’t felt in a while.
If I needed reassurance in my life this much, it might be time to get a cat. Or a dog. Maybe a goldfish. Could I get emotional support from a goldfish?
The helicopter landed rather softly for the captain who’d taken great joy in hitting every air pocket on the way to the forest. The man delighted in seeing how many shades of green I turned before I actually puked. When we got out of here—if we got out of here—I was going to take it out of his hide. I didn’t care if he was Fin’s best friend, or second-in-command, or hell... boyfriend. None of it would matter when I showed him the business end of my taser Bea Arthur.
Oh yeah, I could feel the circle of deathly magic tightening around me, around us. Damn them for not listening to me. I’d spent the last half hour figuring out my seat belt buckle, so I didn’t have to wait for either of them to remove it. Once I freed myself and climbed out of the helicopter, the air hummed with menace. We were no longer alone in these woods.
The darkness had already descended, and the captain handed out flashlights to each of us. I strapped mine to my belt and hopped on both feet, trying to stay warm. No one had thought to bring warm undergarments, or hot chocolate.
Finally, the fact that they were both ignoring me so hard got to me. “Okay, I’d like you both to acknowledge that this is a bad idea, and we are about to get hammered. I’m going to register an advance, I told you so.”
“Noted,” the captain grumbled as he adjusted his weapons and then surveyed both Fin and I like we were kindergarteners about to take a walk to the water fountain.
We headed off into the trees, and I didn’t know how I was the only one feeling the tension in the air. If they did, neither of them showed it. Maybe they had practice walking into traps and looking unconcerned about it.
My fingers tingled, and I gripped the hilts of my knives, prepared to let them do all the magic they needed to keep me safe. As we continued down a path cut through the trees, I drew the knives out, holding them by my thighs, one in each hand, ready to strike out at a moment’s notice.
My heart pounded in my chest and adrenaline zinged around every vein in my body, making my limbs tremble.
“I’m just going to throw it out there...” I said, forcing my voice to steady. “Maybe we should get back on the helicopter and go home. No harm, no foul. Figure out an alternative plan that doesn’t involve well...death.”
I was a split second from making a run back on my own. Let them deal with this crap. I’d spent a lot of years honing my intuition. Ignoring it felt wrong.
“Lock it up,” the captain growled, then stopped mid-path and crouched.
I started to retort. Swarms of shadowy figures surged out from the trees. Fifty of them. Perhaps mages.
I stepped up to the first guy and struck out with one blade. It cut clean through him. He dropped without even an attempt to fight back.
Magic blades. Right.
Another guy launched at me from the right. I took him down as easily and disturbingly as the first one.
Fin and the captain were fighting off several of our attackers each. I launched toward the back of one. He turned to jump at me, but I took him down too. No one used any magic, just muscle, as we grappled and fought through the throng of henchmen.
Finally, the last of the men fell and amazingly all three of us were still standing. Bodies littered the ground, circles of them around each of us.
“That wasn’t so bad,” I said through panting breaths, then straightened and peered through the trees.
I didn’t hear any rustling or anymore bad guys lurking around.
The captain circled around both of us then dug through the nearest fallen goon’s pockets.
“Do you think they brought their driver’s licenses when they came to kill us?” I asked, crouching down to study one of the goon’s faces.
Nope, didn’t recognize him. Nor were there any signs he could do any magic or even tried. Would there be?
Fin stood off to the side, looking over the group. “That felt too easy. Like they were waiting for us, just to be taken down in minutes. They didn’t even really put up a fight.”
Damn. Fin was right. I sheathed my knives and surveyed the scene.
There had to be another kind of ambush waiting. This was just to lure us into thinking we were safe.
Shit. I backed away from the group toward the helicopter. “They want us here. Right here on this spot. Get away, quick.”
To their credit, the men didn’t ask questions. They turned and ran right along with me.
A blazing light shot through the trees and landed on the pile of bodies. The ground, the bodies, the trees, everything in the vicinity caught fire in a flash of flame and heat.
I ducked behind a tree that wasn’t alight and waited for some of the fire to die down. Fin crouched behind a tree across from mine.
Just as we exited our hiding place, shouting broke through the trees.
“Get ready,” Fin yelled. “This is the real fight.”
I shoved off the tree, drew my knives again, and prepared for another round.
Bigger, beefier henchmen sprinted toward us, each holding weapons of their own. No doubt, some of them were magical, judging by the way they gleamed in the remaining firelight.
“I could be at home watching Criminal Minds. Holly could be making me brownies and hand delivering them to my bedroom.” I bounced on my feet, like a boxer amping up for a fight.
Then I launched toward a sizable goon with a long sword.
I caught his parry with the edges of both knives. But he was stronger. I jerked to the side, drawing the sword down and away from my soft stab-able belly.
He attacked again, swinging his sword at my head. I ducked low. He didn’t have as good a reach by his feet, being extremely top heavy.
“Time to work on your legs, dude,” I advised and sliced across his Achilles tendons. He fell with an agonizing scream.
A flash of light illuminated the fight, and I caught sight of Fin taking a blow to the face so hard it drove him to the ground. Adrenaline shot through me, and my world narrowed.
I rushed across the clearing, bounding over fallen bodies to his side. The goon raised his sword for another strike. I hit first, sliding one blade through his back into his kidney. He dropped in a heap.
Fin shook himself, and I offered my hand to help him climb to his feet.
“Ready?” I asked, hoisting him up.
“Always,” he whispered. He kissed the back of my hand and I felt that even more than the adrenaline, deep in my toes.
Just as quickly, the sensation faded and we were back to fighting. The captain took on three men a few feet away.
Damn, he was good.
Fin launched toward a few more on the other side.
One big dude sauntered toward me. He didn’t carry a single weapon.
“Oh yeah, come for the girl, big guy, got something to prove?” I told myself.
He narrowed his eyes as if he heard me and continued his charge.
I met him on the field and stopped. We both took a moment sizing each other up, and then he swung out. The bastard was faster than he had any right to be, being that size. His fist connected with my ear. I went down hard, hitting the other side of my head on the packed earth.
One of the knives fell from my grip, and the other seemed to vibrate in my palm, as if drawing my attention to its fallen comrade.
I reached out to grip the hilt of my missing knife. His giant boot kicked my mid-section, and I couldn’t do anything but try to draw breath into my ravaged lungs. He reared back to kick me again, and I barely rolled away in time to avoid it. My ribs screamed with each movement as I lumbered to my feet. I’d graduated from fractured to full on broken now.
“Come on, big guy. I’m scrappier than I look,” I managed to say, though breathing was so painful it brought tears to my eyes.
He charged at me, intending to wrap his arms around me and take me down. I took two steps to the right and let him zoom past me into the nearest tree.
He hugged it for a moment before spinning. From behind me, another pair of arms wrapped around me. I wiggled to get my elbow into his stomach, but he gripped me too tightly, squeezing my broken ribs.
Pain nearly blinded me. Mentally, I reached out to anything I could grasp. An idea. Help. Surrender.
My mind snagged onto something familiar, comforting. The connection between me and Fin. A lifeline. I tugged at it, not sure what or how to wield his power, or mine, nor how they worked together. I simply grabbed everything I could and shoved it toward the goon advancing on me. He stopped mid-motion and then dropped over, dead between breaths.
The goon holding me reached out to drag his knife across my throat. I shoved that terrible power at him too. His arms fell away as he folded over to the ground like a rag doll.
I heard my name, but my vision wavered, and I couldn’t see who shouted it or where it came from. I no longer controlled the magic; it rode my body, using it as a vessel. Nothing would stand in my way as long as I embraced it.
The seductiveness of it surprised me. I wanted to give in, let it take me. While it lived there, nothing could hurt me. The pain ebbed, and bodies piled up around me as they charged and fell where they attempted to attack.
My name was shouted again, this time with more urgency. Fin? Was that his name? Yes. I could see him in my mind, all cheek bones and soft honey-colored hair. A man who meant something to me, more than I’d admitted to him or myself.
The magic sputtered in my chest like a candle exposed to a strong breeze. Then it went out, along with all the light in the clearing: the flashlights we’d long ago dropped, the fire from the first ambush, even the new torches the second round of attackers brought with them.
Silence pressed in around us and my knees shook. Where was I? Oh, the forest.
Finally, the wobble turned into something more and I collapsed onto the hard ground, the jar of it shooting through me, lighting up all the injuries I’d sustained. Some I remembered, and some I didn’t. My ribs certainly, but not the gash in my side. Someone had gotten a knife in before they’d fallen to my magical barrier.
Damn it.
What was the slick heat rolling down my belly? I fell over onto my side and lay in the wet grass, holding the wound.
It was blood.
This was not the way I wanted to go. I looked around, trying to catch sight of Fin, but I couldn’t see him amidst the piles of bodies. Nor did I spot the captain. Nothing moved in the shadows, not even a breeze rustling the trees. I vaguely mourned the loss of my knives, somewhere in the grass by the big goon.
I lay there and stared at the individual blades of grass, wondering how long it would take for me to finally die. Ther
e were regrets, of course. I should have kissed Fin when we were sparring. I’d wanted to, and I’d chickened out. I hadn’t wanted him to see my feelings for him.
Fingers danced up my side, but I couldn’t make out who was touching me, or why.
Then the entire world went dark.
Chapter Fourteen
Somehow, between taking gut shots to recently fractured ribs and then passing out, my day had taken a turn for the worse. The captain’s face swam in and out of my vision. He hovered a foot from my face, so close I could see the scars on his cheek. They looked like he’d taken burning gunpowder to that sensitive flesh. There was a cut above his doe brown eyes, right through one of his eyebrows.
There was a dream like quality to everything around me, but I was pretty sure I was awake. And in a lot of pain.
He still looked ruggedly handsome in a weird way. Like he might take my spleen and sell it on the black market, but also like he’d ensure I at least got anesthesia first. A nice criminal, a kind-hearted bad guy.
I blinked a few times, my vision focusing so that the captain’s face became clearer. I searched for those touchstones I’d latched onto in my semi-conscious state, the scars, his eyes. Yup, same guy. Not a dream captain mocking me into another trap we might all traipse into and then die from.
I groaned out loud and shut my eyes. A sharp slap right across my check jolted me, and all my sore muscles tightened.
The bastard slapped me.
Before he could do it again, I reached out and smacked him hard across the face. Well, as hard as I could muster with the pain shooting through every nerve ending my body possessed.
“What was that for?” he grumbled. “I was trying to make sure you stay awake. You likely have a concussion and keeping you awake is the safest way to ensure you don’t die from a brain bleed or something.”
I focused on breathing in and out a few times before I answered him. “You slapped me first. Seemed fair. Besides, you can’t exactly strike back right now. I think my gallbladder is in the mud somewhere. Everything hurts.”