by Ann Aguirre
“Alastor will have a better sense of that,” Thalia answered. “But I’d be surprised if it’s not just cleaning up pockets of resistance here and there.”
“It won’t be over until we finish Tycho Vega,” Raff said, in the coldest voice Joss had ever heard from him.
“That would mean invading Golgerra. We’d become the aggressors.” Joss didn’t like the sound of that, but she wasn’t prepared to argue the point.
Maybe Raff was right, and they had to chop off Tycho Vega’s head or hang him or whatever you did to evil despots. A life spent immersed in music hadn’t exactly schooled her for such eventualities.
“That’s part of why we’re assembling at Burnt Amber,” Thalia said. “To discuss our next move. It was sheer serendipity that Pru harried us into action, but we can’t count on being so lucky again. Our next strike must be swift and decisive.”
“I suppose I thought Alastor would handle it. He’s leading the largest force and it’s his brother…” But isolationism had left the bears vulnerable. “No, you’re right. We need to work together. That’s the way we can rebuild trust and move forward.”
“You’re wise. I’m glad Callum has you as an advisor,” Thalia said.
Joss had never thought of it quite that way before, but with him leading Burnt Amber, it seemed likely that she’d be nudged into a capacity she had never anticipated. And she wouldn’t be a leader like Pru, constantly managing and organizing, but she was good at listening, good at getting to the heart of a problem.
“Maybe so.”
That seemed to end the conversation, and when she took a deep breath, she realized she was fucking exhausted. It would be hours before they got to Burnt Amber, even by Rover, so she leaned forward. “Wake me when we get to the edge of the forest near the hold. We won’t be able to drive from that point.”
The Eldritch nodded. “As you request, my lady.”
Their ways were so odd and archaic, but a little charming too. Grateful for the cat skill of being able to nap anywhere, Joss snuggled up and went to sleep. She woke at a nudge from Thalia and blinked hazily at the dark trees ahead.
“We’re already here?”
“Already, she says. We’ve been listening to you snore for hours,” Raff teased. “Quite adorable. A wee-pew sort of sound, wouldn’t you say?”
Thalia ignored his nonsense; she must be quite practiced at it. “We’ll wait for the rest of the convoy here, then you can lead us all at once.”
That made sense. She yawned and stretched, wishing she could wash her face and clean her teeth. It took perhaps another hour for the rest of their group to arrive, but soon Joss was guiding all the Animari leaders to safety.
As Alastor fell in behind her, he observed, “You know, this is a perfect opportunity for a coup. One hopes that my brother isn’t watching.”
Twenty-four hours after the great battle, Callum led his people home.
They had moved slowly, allowing for injuries and sporadic hunting. Sometimes, they just had to stop and rest, no matter how tempting the prospect of plentiful food and comfortable beds might be. But when the familiar forest appeared in the distance, a weak but heartfelt cheer rose up. He’d lost half of his army, but the war was won. There would be no more assaults on Burnt Amber. No more memorials after these services were spoken.
I’ll build a monument in the chapel garden and engrave all the names of those we lost. We’ll do the same when we rebuild Bright’s Landing.
Thinking of that ravaged settlement made him ache. But he couldn’t afford distraction. “Form up,” he called. “Single file, you know the drill.”
He wouldn’t be the incompetent ass who got his people killed by their own mines because he was mourning those who died. Thus, Callum chose his path with care that bordered on paranoia, and safe passage took another excruciating hour. Eventually, they stood outside the gates.
“Open up,” he shouted. “We won the war and we’re damn hungry.”
For some reason, Trini shot him an incredulous look, then she started laughing, maybe because he’d made it sound like they’d gone out on a whim and trounced the enemy on the way back from picking berries. Soon everyone had the chortles, and they were a merry, punch-drunk lot who stumbled in after what felt like ages in the field. He had lost track entirely of how long they’d been away.
Joss had a party waiting. As far as he was concerned, he only needed a single glimpse of her sweet, smiling face, and it felt like a bloody parade with a marching band, medals, and fireworks. But as always, she gave more than he’d expected, more than he could ever deserve. Shining like the sun, she came to meet them singing of brave heroes who defied the odds and came marching home again, hurrah, hurrah, and he almost broke down.
The knot grew to embarrassing proportions in his throat. How can this amazing, beautiful person only have eyes for me? To Callum, it made no sense, but she kept running to him, repeatedly. He always wanted this look in her eyes, that smile on her face. Imagine, I’m the one who put it there. With trembling arms, he reached for her when she sang the last note, mindless of the witnesses. She wrapped herself around him and he breathed in the scent of her, just like his dream. Raspberries, a hint of lemon, and yes, she was still using his shampoo.
This was the scent of home. Not Burnt Amber. Not the smell of tallow at the monastery, but Joss. Always, Joss.
Suddenly, he realized people were cheering, and he stepped back, conscious of heat in his cheeks. Hell, I hope I’m not blushing. Andar caught his eye from the back of the crowd; he’d chosen to stay with the abbot and minister to those who couldn’t fight. His friend smiled and signaled a blessing. Callum inclined his head, keeping one hand on Joss’s shoulder as if her admirers might steal her away. And yes, she still received longing looks from all quarters, but they didn’t press.
A little girl from Bright’s Landing darted forward to offer him a yellow flower, then she giggled shyly and ran away, hiding in her mother’s skirt. The entire feel of the hold was different, people smiling, flooded with sunshine. Apparently, the cooks had faith in his ability to procure more supplies, because they’d suspended rations and set out quite an opulent feast picnic-style. There were games to play, balls to toss about and music for those who had the energy to dance.
This is our victory celebration.
There was grief mixed amid the joy, people weeping for those who wouldn’t return. Garven’s cousin, the one who played the piano for Joss, bowed her head, tears streaming freely when she heard he had fallen in battle. The memorial services would come later. Today, people should be allowed to feel whatever they felt, sorrow or relief, some complex mixture of the two.
For his own part, Callum was so tired that he could collapse face-first in the dirt, but somehow, he found the energy to circulate and reassure everyone that Burnt Amber could rebound from this. The coffers were almost empty, though, and there wouldn’t be payment coming for the mines they hadn’t delivered.
Don’t worry about that. You’re alive. There’s a way.
He wasn’t good at small talk, but he found that if he moved through the crowd with Joss, she would smile and chat for the two of them, so he only had to nod and try not to look too fearsome.
At the end of an interminable hour—or ten?—he tugged on her hand. “Would it be rude if I said I need a moment alone with you?”
“Just the one?”
“Or a hundred. I could use a break, kit. And I’m sure I could use a wash.”
“You smell like a warrior,” she said diplomatically.
Callum laughed, a booming sound so unusual that it drew the eyes of everyone around them, some with expressions of startled amazement. I do have a sense of humor, he told them silently. You lot just aren’t funny.
“Enjoy the party,” Joss called. “Or retire if you prefer. We’ll hold the conclave tomorrow when everyone is fresh and rested.”
And nobody seemed to think it was even slightly odd that he followed her, docile as a lamb. She led him to the ba
thhouse first, thank the goddess. He had no supplies with him, but there were spare baskets of toiletries in stock for visitors and the occasional absent-minded bear. There was a private tub where they could bathe together, and he approved of her choice when she headed toward it.
“Will you wash my back, kit?”
“That’s an easy yes. At this point, there’s very little you could ask of me that I’d refuse,” Joss said with a melting look over her shoulder.
She undressed quickly, seeming to enjoy his admiring gaze, and he wasted no time in shucking the dirty tunic the Eldritch had given him. Serviceable it might have been, but he’d be glad to wear his own gear. Never again would he take such small comforts for granted.
“What if I asked you to stop singing?” Callum didn’t know why he was inquiring about that, as he had no intention of doing so.
“That’s the one thing,” she said. “I hope you’ll never make that request.”
“I wouldn’t, though part of me loathes watching others adore you. A small portion of me would like to hide you away from the rest of the world. It’s those obsessive tendencies I struggle with.” He slid in the pool and ducked his head beneath the water, coming up with a splash and a swirl of dripping wet hair.
“Keyword, struggle. I know what you’re worried about. That I’ll feel trapped like…” She paused, because he’d never told Joss Win’s name.
Quietly, he supplied it.
“Like Win. But I’ll tell you if you’re crowding me. I’ll ask for space if I need it. I truly believe we can be happy together, but you have to believe it too.”
“You’ve saved me so many times,” he said then. “In so many ways. Even when I didn’t think it was possible, you found a way. So even if I don’t think I’m good enough or even a wise choice for you to be making, I’ll stay with you, kit. For the joy of it and for the miracles, you see. I’m a faithful sort of man, after all.”
The water parted around her body as she moved through the pool toward him, and then she kissed him as if she would never let him go.
29.
Reluctantly, Joss broke the kiss, aware that she shouldn’t be too daring in a public bath.
Her heart pounded like tympani keeping time in an orchestra building to crescendo, and she just couldn’t get enough of looking at him. Broad shoulders, wide back, deep chest, every part of him was beautiful to her. She lathered up her hands and did what he’d teasingly requested of her, washing his back with great care. He leaned forward and let out a happy groan.
“I had no idea how this could end well. Turns out, I only needed you.”
There were others who deserved credit too, but she decided to bask in his appreciation rather than ruin the moment. With leisurely care, they washed each other all over, but those touches came from tenderness rather than sexual need. And that made the encounter even more precious because it proved that he wanted her all the time, with his heart, not just his body. Since Joss had always been desired rather than loved, she treasured the distinction.
“Feeling better?” she asked.
“Most definitely. Would you take offense if I went to bed this early?”
Joss shook her head, already climbing out of the tub. “Let’s go. I have clean sheets waiting.”
“Those might be the most alluring words anyone has ever spoken.”
“I can do better,” she promised, “but not today.”
They wore robes from the bathhouse since they hadn’t collected clean attire before washing up, but everyone was either asleep or at the party, so they didn’t pass anyone on the way home. Not that it would’ve bothered Joss.
Callum stumbled a little going up the stairs to their room and she steadied him with a hand on his back. He flashed a grateful look at her, and her heart warmed. Hard to believe that he once fled from me with such determination.
While she combed out her hair, he got into bed, not bothering with such niceties. Doubtless when he woke, he’d be even wilder looking than usual, but she rather enjoyed his unkempt monk style. When she came to bed a few minutes later, he was almost asleep, but he rolled toward her when her weight dipped the mattress and he settled her into his arms as if it was the most natural gesture in the world. How magical.
She wasn’t as exhausted as he was, but hell if she would pass up the opportunity to snuggle with him like this, body heat and bare skin and the luscious sound of his deep breathing. His arms were a heavy, welcome weight, anchoring her in a dream that she still feared could not possibly be true. Lightly, Joss stroked his back, keying notes down his spine in a silent lullaby.
In time, she drifted off as well. She must have been weary because she slept straight through and didn’t awaken until the next morning. Callum was already up and he had tea on. To her surprise, he’d also tidied up the sitting room—thank the gods she’d put away the sweater she was working on for him—and had collected breakfast from the caf. Boiled eggs, porridge, and pastries awaited, still not extensive fare, but better than they had been eating on rations.
Possibly in honor of the summit, his beard was freshly trimmed, and he’d twisted his wavy hair into a semblance of order. Joss found him wildly attractive regardless, but this was a good look for him too. Her gaze swept him from head to toe; he was dressed in his usual rugged gear, khaki pants with many pockets and a chunky sweater with white shirt beneath. His work boots waited by the door.
“You’re staring like you plan to have me instead of breakfast,” Callum said.
“If only we had time for that.”
“I could make time…”
“After the conclave,” she said firmly. “When we go back to bed, I don’t want to be bothered with responsibility for a while.”
“Then we’ll do our diligence and I’ll speak to Jere about taking some time off. Would you like to travel to Ash Valley to collect your things? I should probably speak to your mum as well.”
“And tell her what?” Joss teased.
“That I’ve stolen her daughter, I’m not sorry, and I won’t be giving her back.”
“Perhaps you could put it a bit nicer?”
Callum filled a plate and put it in her hands. “Eat up, love. I’ll think on the vernacular and try not to agitate your family, though with my personality, I suspect it’s best if I make no promises.”
After breakfast, they assembled in the conference room. Jere was already waiting with a full report of how they had managed in Callum’s absence. He skimmed the documents and handed them back. “I chose the right person as my second. You’re so organized that it makes me feel like a pile of unwashed socks.”
Jere let out a startled laugh, obviously amused by the analogy but also pleased by the compliment. “Thanks for noticing. There’s also some unexpected good news. Guess who arrived at Burnt Amber just before dawn?”
Joss couldn’t imagine. “Who?” she asked, as her mate had no patience with information doled out in drizzles. My mate. Just thinking the phrase sent a pleasant thrill through her.
“Your cousin and his family,” Jere said to Callum. “The night patrol found them in the forest, along with survivors from the factory. Apparently, Phelan was working the night of the attack, and Mimi took the children to have dinner with him. They took refuge with a few others there, until you instructed the manager, Martens, to vacate.”
“You must be so relieved,” Joss said, smiling.
But Callum’s expression was strange, not as openly jubilant as she expected. He was happy, of course, but it was laced with…fear? Then she realized why. The abbot had given him permission to leave the order because of the tragedy. Did that mean the fact that his family hadn’t perished invalidated the decision? The universe couldn’t be that cruel. This should be the happiest of occasions, not a potential obstacle between them.
Callum grasped her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything keep me from you. This changes nothing. Or it shouldn’t.”
She forced a smile, trying not to let worry gnaw a hole inside her.
“We can’t deal with it now. The others will be arriving soon.”
As if she’d summoned them with her words, Raff and Thalia entered first, followed by Dom and Pru. A few minutes later, Alastor and Sheyla arrived. Jere shut the door, as that encompassed all the key players. But Callum was distracted, and he didn’t open the dialogue, just glared into the middle distance.
What the hell. I’m better at talking anyway.
“First off, thank you for coming to our rescue,” she said.
Pru raised a brow at her use of the word ‘our’ but she smiled. “I’m sorry we let it go this long. We were focused on rebuilding and I lost track of how bad it was in the north.”
“We’ve had internal struggles as well,” Thalia said. “Not that it’s an excuse.”
Alastor added, “I’ll offer my apologies as well. I should have been more aggressive in combating threats outside of Hallowell. Apparently, I’m a bit territorial. Who knew?”
“I did,” Sheyla said.
“Not interested in regrets,” Callum cut in. “What’s done is done. We proved that we can cooperate without the Pax Protocols but it would be reassuring to have the old agreements in place. I’m not negotiating with any of you. I’m not giving you back any pastureland,” that, directed at Thalia, “And I don’t have the money to offer incentives. Here’s my offer. Sign the same damn terms that have been in place for a hundred years before this asinine war, then we can go about our business and only see each other if we want to or there’s trouble. Deal or no deal?”
Dom opened his mouth, maybe to protest the brusque treatment, but Pru elbowed him, hard. Joss stifled a smile. “Deal,” he said.
“This isn’t how I’d have conducted the meeting,” Thalia observed. “But I agree with everything that you said, and I suspect none of us want to drag this on. Do you agree, Raff?”
“If I argue, I’ll be sleeping alone, and I do so hate sleeping alone. Incentives would’ve been nice—I’ll sign,” he amended quickly.
That left only Alastor and Sheyla. The Golgoth prince glanced at his mate, who said, “I want to get back to my research. If you were planning to make peace, do it fast because I’m sick of traveling.”