by Tanya Huff
“Cataloging helps me not think.”
“Didn’t cataloging used to be your job? I mean, I’m all in favor of a job that requires no thought but you ever think that might be why you were let go?”
“Bite me.” Allie pulled a pale blue Wedgwood thimble, slightly chipped, out of the basket as Charlie sprawled over the counter. “It helps me not think of anything but cataloging, okay? When I think about her, I can feel the fire.”
“That’d suck,” Charlie allowed. “Let me give you something new to think about, then. Where’s Joe?”
“In the bathroom.” She frowned at a Thimble Collector’s International twentieth anniversary thimble. Definitely commemorative, but was it collectible to anyone outside the club? “Does this look like actual silver to you?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. What do you figure Joe’s doing?”
“Charlie!”
“Got you, it’s a trick question. I should have asked, who do you figure Joe’s doing?”
Allie turned slowly to face the back of the store. “Please tell me it’s Katie.”
“Nope. Now, where do you think Auntie Gwen is?”
“With the rest of the circle at the spa?”
Charlie’s brows went up.
“Oh, no…” Allie moved out from behind the counter but before she could get any further, Charlie grabbed her arm.
“He’s Fey. He’ll be fine. He only looks like a kid.”
That was true as far as it went. Joe’d told her the Call commanding his return to the UnderRealm had probably been a result of the Human half of the changeling bond dying of old age. That was also completely irrelevant as far as Allie was concerned. “He’s my responsibility.”
“Why? You’re not banging him.”
There was that.
“Not banging who?” Michael asked.
They turned together.
Charlie released Allie’s arm and stepped away. “I’ll just go over here,” she said, walking to one of the center tables, “and poke through this box of… Okay, don’t care about power cables. Have plenty.” Both hands in the air, she continued backing down the aisle. “Maybe I’ll look at the books.”
Allie looked up at Michael, who brushed his hair back off his face, blush rising under his tan. “I could have really hurt you.”
He shrugged. “You didn’t.”
“I could have.” And then she realized he couldn’t possibly hear her since he was also talking.
Apologies spilled out simultaneously, tangling in each other until he held up both hands and managed to slide “Me first” into a pause.
She owed him that much. “Okay.”
Taking a deep breath, he dried his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Allie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She waited but, bottom line, Michael was still a guy, and that was it. “Or maybe you should have said it years ago.”
He shrugged. “How could you think I didn’t know?”
“I was that obvious?”
“To the people who love you, yeah.”
When he opened his arms, she hesitated a moment before moving into them. “Things are changing.”
“Not us.”
Maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe they already had. Maybe it didn’t matter because she knew Michael would stand there, with his arms open, waiting for her to find him again. Barely aware of moving, she tucked herself up against the broad shelter of his chest, resting her head against his heart. “No matter what happens between me and Graham, I will always love you.”
She felt his lips against the top of her head. “I know.”
“How can you know?”
“Because no matter what happened with me and Brian…”
“And Peter and Joey and Steve and…”
“Shut up.” He tightened his grip. “Because no matter what happened with me and Brian, I always loved you.”
“Medic!” The plaid of Michael’s shirt might be all Allie could see, but Charlie, for all her ability to project over a crowd, was definitely a lot closer than the bookshelves at the far end of the store. “My pancreas just shut down from the sugar overload. On the bright side, I’ve got two verses and a chorus finished. A couple more verses, a dead dog, and a banjo, and this is going to make ’em cry.”
“I thought banjos did that all on their own,” Allie snorted backing out of Michael’s embrace. “I should really get back to…”
Burning!
Raging!
She didn’t remember hitting the floor, but both knees were telling her she’d dropped like a brick. The hardwood smoked slightly against her palms. It felt as though her blood was on fire.
Under Michael’s panicked reaction, she could hear boots on the stairs.
“Hey, Al! My mother’s…” The boots skidded to a stop just inside her somewhat limited field of vision. “Oh, you heard.”
“At least with the rain, there won’t be too many people in the park.” Allie came out of the bedroom buckling her belt. Clothes suitable for thimbles didn’t cut it for a potential apocalypse. Too flammable, for starters. “Auntie Gwen…” She slid right past the reason Auntie Gwen had a purpling bite mark just under the edge of her jaw. “… you’re driving the bus because Michael and Joe are staying here. I don’t want noncombatants anywhere near this. Pick up the others at the hotel, and we’ll meet you there.”
“Don’t forget to remind them about the police helicopters,” David growled from his place by the door. Allie was just barely coping with having him that far inside the room. With only Auntie Gwen about, and her distracted, David’s presence just added to the heat in her blood. “They’ve got to make sure the weather’s bad enough to ground them.”
“Good thing it’s already raining,” Auntie Gwen muttered. She glanced between Allie and her brother, gestured Katie and Roland into the space between them, kissed Joe-who to his credit kissed her back in spite of the audience-grabbed the keys off Michael’s palm, and ran.
Joe flushed under the scrutiny, and while his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders were square and his chin was up.
If it worked for him, it worked for Allie.
She shrugged back into Graham’s jacket, wanting as much of him near her as possible. “This also stays here,” she added, fishing the bullet from the front pocket. “Just to be on the safe side.” The bullet rolled along the table until Katie put out a finger just before it rolled out of reach and stopped it. “And safer yet; Charlie, can you get Jack into the Wood?”
Charlie nodded. “Don’t see why not. I got Ryan in.You don’t want her to be able to use him as a focus?”
Not with Graham standing beside him. “I want her confused, at least for a minute or two.”
“If my mother dies here…”
Allie looked down at Jack’s thin fingers clutching her arm, and braced herself.
“… I get to help eat her.”
Okay, that needed different bracing. She opened her mouth. Closed it again. Figured what the hell. “Sure.”
“Awesome.” Looking pleased, Jack gave her arm a little squeeze before he let it go. Allie could smell the fabric scorching.
“All right, the aunties may know what they’re doing, but we’re going to be making this up as we go along.” She paused halfway to the door. Speaking of the aunties… “David?”
He nodded once, horn not quite visible but still very present. “Do what you have to, Allie, I’m stronger than you think. So are you.”
Hands outstretched, their fingertips just barely touched, sending a frisson of want up her arm. She thought of Charlie wearing the thimbles, wondered if it would help. Without Graham right there to ground her, she didn’t dare risk hugging him although she very much wanted to.
Eyes dark, Roland stepped between them. David would anchor the first circle, but Roland would anchor her. Today and, if they survived, every ritual where he was the only second circle male. Her father, not a Gale, had never been a part of ritual. Allie thought of expla
ining all that to Graham. Oh, fun.
Roland read the thought off her face. Or maybe from deeper in, all things considered. “Perhaps it’s for the best Graham isn’t here right now.”
“Yeah.” Her voice shook only a little. Little enough to ignore. “I was just thinking much the same thing.”
“All right, kid…” Charlie led the way down the stairs. “… experience with your uncle suggests we’re going to need to take a run at this, so we’ll start at the back door. I’ll begin to play, you put your hand on my shoulder, and with luck we’ll be moving fast enough when we hit the shrubbery to get through.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just keep up and we’ll be fine.” Pulling the back door open, she sighed. “Fucking rain.”
Jack pushed past her, stretching out a hand so that fat drops of water sizzled against his palm. “I shouldn’t be so hot. It’s probably because my mother’s so close.”
“Your mother gets you hot? Wait.” She held up a hand before he could answer. “Forget I asked. That was wrong on so many levels.”
“It’s too much power in one place,” Jack explained, head back, catching the rain in his mouth.
“Yeah, that’s where I was going,” Charlie sighed. She pried a cheap plastic poncho out of its pouch and stuffed her head through an opening clearly designed for the skulls of three year olds, stretching the neck out and ripping the hood entirely off. Since the point of the exercise was to protect her guitar, her head didn’t actually much matter. “You need to be behind me, kid. One hand on my shoulder,” she added as he dripped his way back into the house, flipping wet bangs back out of his eyes. A Dragon Prince with emo hair and daddy issues. Her life had become Manga. “Skin contact will help, so move that one finger over until you’re touching my neck and… God fucking damn it, that hurts!” Jerking away she rubbed at the rising blister. “You think you can keep it down to a slight scorching?”
Jack frowned at his hands as though he were still getting used to them. Probably was, when it came to it. “I can try.”
“Thank you.”
It wasn’t hard to find his song, not with him standing right there radiating, but when she attempted to walk them over into the Wood, it was like dragging the Saddledome behind her. Ryan had been heavy, but Jack…
“You can’t be that much bigger than Ryan,” she gasped after the third unsuccessful attempt, trying to push one of the flattened bushes vertical with the side of her shoe.
“Well, yeah, I can. Size is all about power and I’m the heir. And a sorcerer.” Just to prove it, it stopped raining on him. “So I’m lots bigger than Uncle Ryan.”
“Yeah, well, size matters here too, kid. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Come on.” Giving up on the bush, she headed back inside. “We’re going to need a lot more space.” The poncho came off as the door closed behind them. Leaning up the stairs, she yelled for Michael and Joe. “I need more room,” she told them when they appeared. “We’re heading down the road to the park.”
“In what?” Michael demanded. “Both cars are gone.”
“Graham’s truck.”
“Do you have the keys?”
Charlie snorted. “Please. How long have you known me?” Passing the mirror she flicked a finger against the frame. The reflection showed Jack, a large gold dragon and a relatively small green dragon against a shimmering white background. “Thanks. A little perspective would’ve been more helpful about twenty minutes ago.”
“That music is really lame,” Jack muttered, slouched down in the seat as far as the belt allowed, feet up on the dash.
“Hey!” Charlie smacked his shoulder. “Do not be dissing Emerson Drive.”
“I want to listen to something good!” He reached for the radio, but she was faster.
“Two things,” she said smacking his hand back. “One, if I’m behind the wheel we go by Winchester rules: driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. And two…” The truck rocked up on two wheels as she took a sharp turn into the Fort Calgary parking lot. “… we’re here.”
Jack’s nose twitched as he got out of the truck. “This is where the Fey gate was, right?”
“Yeah.” Charlie nodded along the path, dragging the misshapen poncho back on over her head. “Right at the entrance to the… Fuck. Hang on.” She pulled her phone from her belt pouch and frowned at the call display. Unknown numbers were not something that showed up on family phones. Raising a hand to hold Jack in place, she moved away from the truck. “Yeah?”
“You have Jack with you. I want to see him. I want to see my son.”
Hadn’t been expecting that. She smiled, and knew he could feel exactly how she meant it. “Fuck you.”
“Do you think you can control him, Charlotte? Keep him from his destiny? No, you can’t. He should be here, with me, embracing all that he is.”
“Embracing a dirt nap if he gets close to you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll face his mother together, he and I.”
“Yeah, like that’s a convincing argument for…”
The roar of the truck engine cut her off. Charlie stood, free hand under the poncho resting on the upper curve of her guitar, and watched Jack peel backward out of the parking lot, wheel around through miraculously empty spots in traffic, and grind gears heading north.
On the other end of the phone, the sorcerer snickered. “I didn’t have to convince you, Gale girl. His kind have remarkable hearing.”
“And they learn fast,” Charlie muttered snapping the phone closed. In retrospect, showing Jack how the truck worked had been a bad idea. “And more importantly,” she growled, heading for the nearest trees, “how did that S.O.B. get my number?”
“I’m a little surprised that worked, actually, but I suppose it’s time something went right for me.” Kalynchuk unwrapped the red hair from around his phone and dropped it back into Graham’s lap. “How fortunate I spotted this protruding over your waistband.”
“Keep your fucking eyes on the road,” Graham snarled. He stuffed Charlie’s hair into his pocket. That’s what he got for grabbing yesterday’s boxers off the floor. When this was over, if he survived, he was definitely doing laundry.
“The freezer’s ringing.” Joe cocked his head and frowned. “I think it’s the theme from Boston Legal.”
Michael crossed the room in six strides, redirecting his pacing into the kitchen. “It’s Roland’s phone. He left it for us.”
“In the freezer?”
“I guess he forgot to take it out of the peas.”
Joe raised a hand. “Don’t want to know.”
“They haven’t been gone long enough for something to go wrong.” One hand digging into the frozen vegetables, he paused and shot Joe a worried glance. “Have they?”
“I have no idea.”
“But you’re…”
“Here with you, aren’t I?” Joe approved of that, actually. He figured that behind Catherine Gale’s wards was currently the safest place in the city. “Just answer the damned phone.”
“It’s me.”
“What?”
“It’s my phone calling. It’s Brian. It has to be.” Michael looked down at the phone, dwarfed by the size of his hand. “What does he want?”
“There’s only one way to find that out, isn’t there?”
“Yeah?”
Joe was starting to understand Allie’s fondness for hitting people on the back of the head. “Answer. The. Damned. Phone.”
Bottom lip between his teeth, Michael snapped it open and raised it to his ear. “Hello?”
It was Brian. From what he’d heard, Joe doubted anyone else could put that look on Michael’s face.
“Where am I?”
Joe wondered if the next question was going to be What are you wearing? And if he should go downstairs to the store.
“Who said to meet you at the park?”
That didn’t sound good. Joe watched the color drain out
of Michael’s face.
“What park did she tell you to meet me at?”
She?
“Brian! What park?”
Joe didn’t actually need to hear the answer to that one.
“Okay, listen to me, please. Get in a cab and… Brian? Brian! Goddamn it!” He threw the phone across the room. Bounced it off the wall pretty damned close to where Allie’d bounced him. “Lost the signal. These phones don’t lose their fucking signal!”
“Twelve Dragon Lords, two sorcerers, and an emerging apocalypse might be messing with reception,” Joe pointed out. “And he’s right at ground zero.”
“Thanks for that. I’ve got to get to him.”
“Allie wants you to stay here. She’ll take care of him.”
“Yeah, because she’ll have so much free time.” He was shoving his feet into shoes as he spoke and Joe knew there wasn’t a hope of keeping him in the apartment.
“How are you going to get there? It’s halfway across the city.”
“It’s Calgary, not the middle of the tundra,” Michael snapped, yanking open the door. “I’ll flag a cab!”
Joe listened to him pound down the stairs, across the store, and out the front door. He sighed, followed him down, and turned the lock. Michael was nowhere in sight, so he must’ve grabbed a cab pretty much immediately. Seemed like he’d been around the Gales long enough for that kind of thing to rub off.
Eyes away from the shadows at the far end of the store, he rolled a yoyo along the countertop, putting out a finger to stop it just before it rolled out of reach. Allie’d told him to stay and that seemed like a good idea to him.
Besides, there was nothing he could do.
Was there?
Roland pulled the Beetle into the southeast parking lot right behind the bus, David behind them. Allie hadn’t had much choice about who was driving, her blood still burned and the constant roar was nearly deafening. She had to keep reminding herself not to yell over a noise only she could hear.