by Anise Rae
“I can do it,” she said, but she didn’t move. Her head rested against his heart. It beat for her. He would have to do a lot of talking to make people understand.
He gave a last glare at his brother. “Next time I see you, plan to get knocked the hell down for stripping my woman, putting her in a burn dress, and anything else you’ve done to her.”
His brother stiffened, and Edmund’s gut sank. What else had he done to her?
“Don’t even tell me you put her in the damn basement!” Edmund spoke over Aurora’s head.
“Whitman was certain of her innocence.” He put his hand over his heart as if it hurt. “You should know, though, she resisted arrest. We had to shut her down.” He paused. “She was out for three days.”
Three days.
Anger detonated from every vein in his body. While he’d been healing with Aurora’s heart, she’d been weak and helpless. Because of Vin. Red rage doused his sight, his blood pounding with fire. The taste of it drenched his mouth, bitter and sharp.
“Edmund.” Aurora’s word was so soft he didn’t think his ears had registered it. His mage sense had heard it for him, a beast ready to be freed.
She put her cold hand against his cheek. “Will you hold my hand?”
Protect her. The need trumped his soul’s urge to exact vengeance. He laced his fingers through hers and held them to his chest. He forced his blood to cool, one of the first spells he’d been taught when he’d come into his power. “My schedule will be more open as soon as I catch the bitch who’s draining the territory. I’ll kill you then.”
“Fine. Though I wouldn’t be so certain of the outcome if I were you.” Vincent deadpanned. “A fight to celebrate your survival.”
Bull stepped forward, lips pursed, thoughtful. A fight was in the air. Naturally, the man was interested. “If you think you’ll win, Monday, I’ll make sure a reporter is there. It would be excellent press if the junkyard Second beat up the leader of the army.”
Silent tension racketed up among the soldiers surrounding them. Edmund ignored it. “Drive us home, Bull.” He swung Aurora into his arms, her weakness worrying a hole in his gut.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Monday.” The words lacked the sarcastic ring Edmund expected.
“Wait.” Vin strode forward. “Are you going to fix the fissure?”
“What the hell else do you think I’m going to do?”
Gregor ran back out of the farmhouse, white paper bag in hand. He shoved it at Vin who didn’t miss a beat. He merely held it out to Edmund. “I’m coming with you. Here. Wilen’s muffins. Guaranteed to re-energize the most exhausted soldier. Potion-free and spell-free. But there’s something in them for sure. I just don’t know what. She needs them.”
Edmund took it with a glare.
Bull whistled a happy tune as he led the way to Aurora’s car and opened the passenger door for him. Edmund sat down with her in his lap.
Vin and his soldiers were already moving toward their vehicles.
Bull shut the door and sped back to the junkyard as fast as Edmund had arrived, a bigger fleet of army vehicles behind them than before. He coaxed a few bites of muffin into Aurora as they went.
“I didn’t tell them,” she whispered. “They don’t know.”
He cupped his hands around her cheeks and leaned down, nose to nose. His heart filled with her compassion, her kindness and love. It pressed against him, anchoring him to a bright joy, a love of life he’d never had. He would have told her, that he knew he carried her love, but the words would have sounded arrogant. This wasn’t another battle for supremacy, as she’d once accused him as they’d walked through the field. Yet saying I love you was insufficient. It wasn’t worthy enough. He didn’t have anything to offer that was.
He swallowed hard and opened his mouth. “I like holding your hand.” It was all he had. She anchored him to joy. He would hold her safe in return.
Her soft, gentle laugh welled up. She put her hands over his. But pain from the fissure flared and he couldn’t stop his flinch.
“Not my heart.” He warded off her worry. He drew down a sound spell around them, blocking Bull’s ears, unwilling to risk the vow clamping down on him. “The fissure. This one is different. I can feel it draining the land. The others didn’t drain the energy. They were just spots of chaos. This one must be enormous.” He looked over at Bull as he drove them back toward the city. The man’s lips moved. Who was that message going to?
“Good thing we’ve had some practice then.” Despite the confident words, uncertainty rang through her voice and pulled at her eyes.
He could feel the questions about their future brimming around her, though she stayed silent, and he didn’t offer any answers. Now wasn’t the time. His miraculous recovery would not go ignored, but if they could fix the fissure first, he’d have more strength to fight that next battle. For now, she needed to rest while she could.
He pulled her against him, but shifting her sent a sharp stab into his thigh. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the culprit. Her golden hammer, enchanted with power to create her gadgets, spanned the length of his palm.
She wrapped her pretty little fingers around it and stuck it in her coat pocket as if he handed her hammers every day. Leaning her forehead against him, she closed her eyes, long lashes lying against the paleness of her cheek.
“I’d do it again, Edmund.” Her next breath was deep and slow, as if those words had been a heavy confession and with that burden lifted, she could finally rest.
Chapter 21
Bull squealed into the junkyard on two wheels, racing past the soldiers stationed there. Edmund barely had time to drop his shield before they crashed against it.
The gang raced toward them as Bull halted near the burn barrel.
“Out,” Bull ordered.
Edmund lifted a brow at the sudden command, but he obeyed, lifting Aurora out first. “I don’t have time for junkyard politics, but I’ll make time as soon—”
Coming around the other side, Bull shoved him against the car, two others pinned his arms so fast they must have planned this. Thorn sauntered over, a metal stick in hand.
Edmund went stiff, every muscle, every joint. He held on to his vibes by a slim thread. “What the hell—”
“Sorry about this.” Bull reached back for the brand. The thin horizontal line at its end glowed with unfathomable heat. Someone jumped on top of the car and wrenched Edmund’s head to the side. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth but not fighting. This was blasted poor timing, but it had been inevitable. The heir could not be an underling.
Fiery pain stabbed his skin, his skull, his every thought. Sharp, bitter smoke filled his nose. Somewhere in the distance, Aurora yelled. Bull pulled the brand away but it made no difference to the pain. It remained as if his skin flamed.
Slowly, everyone backed away, like a wild animal prowled among them. Smart.
Edmund turned his head, moving through the pain. He glared at Bull, only to see Aurora break free from the men holding her.
She shoved at Bull’s chest. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be done! And you know it! He almost died three days ago and you brand him with another line? That’s wrong, Owen Crombie!”
The red-hot brand dragged across the ground, perilously close to her leg.
“Put the brand away before someone gets hurt,” Edmund ordered, his voice rough.
“Whatever you say, boss.”
He glared at the rest of them, but even that hurt his forehead. Fuck, he’d swear the poker was lodged behind his eye. “The army’s coming in. You better hide anything...and anyone...you don’t want them to see.”
Yes, sirs rebounded and they raced away.
A tear splashed down Aurora’s cheek. And that just hurt more.
“No crying,” he snapped, regretting the moment he did so, but pain was doing its damnedest to devour his consciousness and his energy, one big gulping bite after the other. He pu
shed it back with yet another determined thrust. Maybe he needed a muffin, too.
She sniffled. “I can feel your pain. It’s merging with your energy.”
He nodded, an apt description. “Bull.”
“Yes, boss?”
“You ever make my girl cry again, and I’ll take that brand to your dick. Understand?”
“Vibing clear.”
With a shaky, but controlled push of vibes, Edmund pointed at the shield where his brother stood. It collapsed. Next he pointed a finger at Vin and shoved his words to his brother’s ear. “You and Whitman only. The rest stay outside the yard.”
Vin spouted orders to his men and then threw his words to Edmund. “You should have joined the army. We wear our rank on our uniforms. Much less painful.”
“Yes, but you’re a nobody when you’re naked in the shower. I’m the man everywhere I go.”
He took Aurora’s hand and marched toward the fissure, following another path of pain. She kept up for the most part, thanks to Vincent deflecting her footsteps over the snow. She stayed on its surface, not falling through like he was. Bull, Vincent, and Gregor kept pace beside them. Vincent’s stare felt like a weight against the brand, pressing its burn farther into his skull.
“Quit.”
“I can smell it.” Vin’s dark eyebrows pulled together at the base of his forehead, a mix of revulsion and concern.
“It smells like the bomb,” Aurora offered in a small, dazed voice.
“What bomb?” Gregor asked.
When she didn’t answer, Edmund spoke. “The park bomb. She was there.”
“And she survived? Goddess bless us,” Vin whispered, a heartfelt wish, a surprising one. Edmund was never sure how much Vin believed. Aurora didn’t react, as if she hadn’t registered anything. His girl wasn’t recovered enough for this.
“Speaking of bombs,” Vin continued, “according to the energy tracers, the bomb debris at the foot of the trash tower was from burned up fireworks charms mixed with an accelerant.”
“That was stupid. Most of those charms are too weak to explode a bag of trash much less a trash tower.”
“They were cheap ones, fairly small, and mass produced. It will be difficult to track down much more about them.”
A dead-end then. He’d thought they might have finally uncovered a clue.
They stomped in silence toward the fissure. The forest branches parted as they entered—Aurora, functioning on automatic and casting without thought.
They hiked in.
The damage to the bond was easy to sense, though its power felt odd. Edmund found it between two bare trees, one young and the other a towering giant. Except there was nothing there. He held up his hand for the others to stop and circled the two trees, once, twice. Nothing. Yet his mage sense told him something was wrong in this very spot.
“I can feel it.” Bull grimaced. “Rotting around us. Like swamp vibes beneath our feet. Stinks like fresh vibe shite.”
“Eloquent,” Gregor said. “A junkyard haiku. I like this man.”
“Maybe it’s underground,” Aurora whispered, huddling in her jacket and reaching up to clutch at her throat. Blasted hells, she was scared. “The sewer tunnels run right through here. We about fell over when the blasting was going on.”
Bull shook his head. “Can’t be. No one could go in the sewers. It’d be like swimming in junk vibes,” Bull offered.
“There’s a cave where the goblins live!”
Aurora spun around. She and Bull raced toward Lily automatically, though Aurora fell in the snow with her haste.
Edmund strode behind them and gripped her elbow to pull her up. He moved with calm purpose, not giving his brother or the captain a reason to suspect anything was amiss. He eyed the little girl from around Aurora’s shoulder, grateful to see Lily wore tall boots and leggings beneath her coat. That wasn’t a conversation he was ready to start. “You, young lady, are supposed to be inside.”
She threw herself on her back into the snow, moving her arms and legs apart and together. Her snow angel spread around her. “Uncle Bull said he’d build a snowman with me when he got back. But we can all build it. You, too, Uncle Monday. Please?”
“We’ll build it, but not right now. Your Uncle Bull is going to take you to Aurora’s house.”
“Is that your brother?” Lily, still lying in the snow, pointed at Vin. “He looks like you when you’re grumpy.” She sat up. “Like when you left.”
Remorse was the last thing his spirit wanted to handle, but it didn’t have a choice. He’d take back that grumpiness he’d piled on her if he could. “I’m sorry I was grumpy. And, yep. That’s my brother.”
“The goblins are grumpy, too.” Lily’s voice jumped as Bull stood her on her feet. Aurora brushed the snow off her, careful to keep her pants tucked into her boots.
“I’m not grumpy,” Vincent whispered as he stopped next to Edmund. When Edmund gave him a skeptical look, he continued. “Bronte doesn’t think so.”
“The goblins just moved in.” Lily’s face reflected its usual solemn lines, but she always had ideas to share. “It was a few days ago. They got bad gas and their energy is real slimy. It smells like vibe shite.”
“Lily!” Aurora’s surprise raised her voice high.
Beside him, Vin muffled a laugh.
“You shouldn’t say that.” Bull’s lips pulled to the side in a purse.
“Why not?” Lily asked. “You do.”
“Where do the goblins live?” Vincent crouched down, still far from Lily, but she approached him, likely just what Vin had intended. He eyed the forest in a constant scan of their surroundings. “Is it over there?” He pointed to the east, making it a guessing game.
Lily shook her head. “Over there.” She pointed in the opposite direction and set off toward it.
They formed an odd parade—two soldiers, two junkyard guards, an enchantress, and a girl on metal legs—hiking through a frigid, darkening forest. Lily halted near the river bank then turned to climb a steep hill. Two dozen paces up, a dark cave opened.
“Shh. They’re awake. One of their bellies exploded a few days ago when a fairy popped out. Goblins shouldn’t eat fairies.” Lily bent down, hands on knees.
Vincent crouched down at the edge of the cave next to her. “Did you see this happen?” He eyed the darkness.
“Heard it. Real loud. Puuuhhrrgggg. Explosion. Hope they didn’t eat Gwynnie.”
Edmund reached for Aurora on automatic, his hand around her arm. Her breath huffed out, a soft cry of distress. Helplessness threatened to grip him again.
Bull closed the distance on Aurora’s other side, his face slack with shock.
“Why would they eat Gwynnie?” Vincent asked. He didn’t even know who Gwyn was.
“She went in and didn’t come out. I told Grammy the goblins might have eaten her. I know these kinds of things ’cause I’m a goblin hunter. What’re you?”
“I’m in the army. I’m a general.”
“That’s what I want to be when I grow up.” Lily went on, oblivious to her impact. “I’m gonna be a general, too.”
Vin’s nostrils twitched. “Good plan. In the meantime, general this guy on home, all right?” He pointed at Bull. “Make sure he stays inside his house with you.”
Edmund looked at Bull and cast his words to the man’s ear. Go. I’ve got Aurora. You take care of the others.
Lily crossed her arms with a frown and planted her feet. Her reluctance to leave was obvious.
Gregor rubbed his chin, a mock thoughtfulness on his face. “Lily, Bull looks kind of wily. Are you sure you can handle him?”
The little girl hadn’t yet noticed the tear traveling down Aurora’s face. Edmund leaned in and kissed it away.
Lily looked at Vincent. “I’ll prob’ly need handcuffs. You have some?”
“He does.” Aurora’s voice was flat, her face pale. “But they’re easy to remove, so you better just ho
ld tight to Uncle Bull’s hand.”
Lily sighed. “Okay. Bye.”
Aurora didn’t watch them go, keeping her face turned away. “Gwyn?” Her lower lip trembled. She dropped her face in her hands. Heavy sobs shook her form. He wanted to pick her up and carry her away, but there was nowhere to go that their problems wouldn't follow.
As he stood at the cave’s entrance, the image of Gwyn’s lock of white blond hair escaping from her hood played through his memory. “Is she Noble?”
She nodded, sniffing between tears. “But she’s my friend.” She held out her hands. “She’s a trifling.”
He shook his head. Gwyn was a destruere. A weak one.
“How could she be the one?” Aurora asked. “She came to me. Her family was after her. She knew they’d never look for her here, but she couldn’t ask Rallis for asylum.” She sucked in a hard breath. “Oh, goddess. The fireworks charms. I gave them to her. Now what have I done?” She looked up at him, her eyes stricken with the betrayal.
He stroked her cheek. “She took advantage of your kind heart. I’m going to make a law against doing that,” he said softly. Could the fissure wait a day? Even a few hours? He wasn’t sure his girl could take another blow. But the pain inside him had only increased and the mages of his territory were hurting. With a hand under her chin, he gently lifted her face to his. “One step at a time, Ror. Let’s fix this fissure first. Then we’ll find her.” Hopefully in that order. They’d all feel stronger with this fissure repaired.
He focused on the cave’s opening. The fissure felt farther away than ever. The cave must travel far beneath the ground. He cast a mage light and sent it into the darkness. He held out his hand and Aurora stepped up to him.
Vincent stood. “I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t. The vow. Stay outside.”
“Stupid to go alone, Mundie.”
“He’s not alone.” Aurora said softly.
Vincent’s lips tightened. “This is like me walking into a mission with Bronte.”
Edmund saw through to the worry beneath. “Which you kind of did at one point.”