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Iron (The Warding Book 1)

Page 31

by Robin L. Cole


  I sighed, hands flapping about like two distraught birds. I didn’t know what to say.

  “You don’t gotta tell me. Ain’t none of my business. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off an’ deal with whatever’s got you so bothered?” It was phrased as a polite suggestion, but we both knew it was an order. Maureen might have looked like someone’s grandmother, but she was far from maternal towards me.

  Fuuuuuuuuck. She was the source of money knowingly letting me live a shady double life; I couldn’t risk stepping on her toes. I gritted my teeth behind yet another fake smile. “Okay, sure. Thanks. Just let me just go drop off his check and I’ll cash out.”

  I tallied up the troll’s bill—leaving off the up-charge for double meats, because fuck you Maureen—and strolled back over to his table. I dropped the check down behind his untouched water glass and said, “My shift is coming to an end. You need anything else, you feel free to ask Maureen, okay?”

  “Sure thing. Thanks darling,” he said, with another one of those toothy smiles. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two crumpled singles, sliding them across the table at me. I took them with a muttered thanks, clenching them in my fist as I made myself turn and walk away. There was no flicker of recognition in those beady little orbs; not even the slightest hint of subterfuge.

  As I gathered up my purse and hoodie from the back, I was torn between relief and the nagging doubt that something about the situation stunk. Could our paths crossing really just be the most inconvenient of coincidences? I had a hard time buying that.

  Not much in my life was a coincidence.

  ~*~

  I waited outside, in my car, until the New Troll finished his breakfast and paid his bill. I felt like the world’s worst creeper but there was no helping that. I had been played for the fool once too often for my taste. Better safe (and feeling like a homicidal maniac) than sorry (and dead).

  My eyes darted to my pair of stilettos, chilling in the passenger seat next to me. I reached over and caressed one, the feel of its cool metal comforting under my fingertips. Having them close at hand made me feel both better and worse.

  Better, because I was protected. Worse, because I was prepared to use them.

  Eventually the New Troll ambled out the door, got in his battered pick-up truck and drove off; nary a split second of concern shown for my whereabouts. If he had been playing dumb to lull me, he had done a bang-up job. Part of me wanted to follow him. Another part wanted to storm back into the diner to question the hell out of Maureen; to see if the ugly fuck had sniffed around for so much as a hint about my private life—but I didn’t do either.

  I already knew I wouldn’t be stepping foot back into that diner. My listless, lazy time in Ohio had come to a rather abrupt end. My gut deep reaction made it impossible to pretend I was anything but a Hunter, even tucked away out here in rural hell.

  Maybe it was my mother’s blood that made it so easy for me to become a killer. Whoever she was.

  The thought made me flinch.

  Problem was, I had no idea where to go next. That long ago daydream image of me decked out in red gingham, whiling away my days at Granny’s Stop n’ Chow hadn’t quite lived up to my expectations. I had pictured myself waiting on lewd truckers and country bumpkin locals; slapping away some good ol’ boy’s hand if he got a little too randy. In my wildest dreams, I hadn’t considered the appearance of a some slope-browed, sharp-toothed monster. And what had I done the minute the world reminded me that I was a Warder, like it or not? I had nearly whipped some knives out from under my apron and hacked his head off over a plate of half-eaten pancakes.

  Talk about a health code violation.

  I don’t know why I had ever pictured myself in red gingham in the first place. I didn’t even own any.

  I laughed out loud, the long, hysterical kind of laugh that comes from the depths of defeat. Who had I been trying to kid? There was no charmed, simple life waiting out there for me.

  I could run again and find a new spot to settle down in, but it wouldn’t last. I couldn’t hide forever. This was just the beginning of an endless cycle that I would never be able to stop. Gannon had been right about that too: out here, I had no allies, no network of strangers willing to shelter or help me. I was completely and totally alone.

  I heaved a sigh and turned the key, letting the engine rumble to life.

  There was only one thing left I could do.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  When I pushed through the door to the fae house, I nearly knocked over a startled Seana. She froze in the doorway for half a moment at the sight of me, sputtering something unintelligible, but quickly stepped aside when she saw the determination on my face. I pushed past her and stopped in the living room doorway. Mairi was sitting cross legged on the couch, her iPad in her lap. Her cheeky little face—sporting a ring in one nostril and another through the adjacent brow—was nearly split in two by a humongous grin.

  I found myself grinning back. I guess my grand return hadn’t been wholly unexpected. “Where is he?”

  There was no need for them to ask me who I was referring to. Seana continued to splutter and fuss about behind my back like I was a baby bird freshly fallen from the nest, but Mairi jerked her head in the direction of the stairs. “Study.”

  I nodded my thanks and took the stairs two at a time, leaving the girls behind in the living room. This was between Kaine and I. The study door was closed tight but I threw it wide open, earning myself a startled look from the otherwise unflappable prince. He was seated before the empty fireplace and he had dropped his book to the floor when I crashed through the door.

  I stood before him, fearless. “This isn’t over yet. I can’t walk away from this, as much as I’d like to. I thought I’d be in danger until Texas Pete was stopped but it’s worse than that. I, and everyone I know, will be in danger until Tiernan is dethroned and the laws are enforced again. We need to stop him. I want to strike a new pact.”

  To say the look that earned me was disbelieving would be charitable. He was looking at me like I was straight up crazy, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Maybe I was; I kind of felt it. After a moment of sputtering, he waved a dismissive hand at me. “Caitlin, it’s not that simple. Let me explain to you how these sorts of things work. I—”

  I cut him off with a sharp wave of my own hand. “Nu-uh. See that, right there—that ‘Caitlin is a silly human who I talk down to all the time’ shit? That stops right now. You might be lord and master to everyone in this house and to the whole damn fae kingdom on top of that, but not to me. Got it? I am done being your lackey and I sure as fuck am not dumb enough to jump back into another lopsided deal with you. From here on out we deal with one another as equals or not at all. Are we clear?”

  He sat back in his chair and regarded me with that regal stare of his. Perhaps he had thought I would show him more deference, having learned who he was, but that was going to be a long wait for a train don’t come. Maybe it angered him; maybe it shocked him. I didn’t really care one way or the other. I wasn’t built for bowing and scraping. Instead, I said, “It’s pretty obvious that neither of us has made much headway in our respective journeys this past month. I had to come back—and you’re still stuck here. Maybe we’re better off working together.”

  He looked like he wanted to deny that, and vehemently so at that, but he couldn’t. If he had had any success in finding the sword, he wouldn’t have been sitting in a Riverview brownstone, reading Yeats on a midsummer’s Tuesday evening. He knew I knew and I could see that it was killing him. Jaw tight, he said, “Go on.”

  “I may not be part of your world but the search for the sword will be happening in mine. I think I can help you find it.” I forestalled his doubt with a tart reminder, “I found the Lynx after all. I am offering to help, in whatever capacity I can. You don’t know where this search is going to take you. Can you say, without a doubt, that you won’t regret letting me walk away again, if I turn around and head back out th
is door right now? Because if I do, it’ll be the last time. I won’t make this offer again.”

  As much as he hated me in that moment for calling out his weaknesses, I could see that his interest was piqued. He stared past me and rubbed at his chin, brow deeply furrowed; the epitome of a lord deep in thought. Minutes passed in silence before he finally said, “Fine. We are in need of any help we can get. If I choose to agree, what will you expect in return?”

  It was time to nut up.

  I pulled one of my knives from its boot sheath and ran the blade across my palm. I held out it and my bloody palm both, keeping the bleeding hand carefully cupped so as not to mar his lovely carpet. My gaze had never wavered from his, not for an instance. “I’ll help you get the sword and petition the Morrigan—and whatever else it takes to break the geis and get you home. In return, you swear to protect this realm and right the wrongs your brother has committed when you become High King. I will hunt down every last creature in this city that has harmed a human, if needs be, but once you are in power you will do your part too. You will put an end to the bestial fae coming across the Veil and hunting humans. Forever.”

  For a moment, I thought he would balk. I was asking a lot and I knew but; fuck it. In for a penny, might as well ask for a pound. I was tired of being scared and lost. I wasn’t sure that throwing my fate back in with him was the best idea, but it was the only shot I had at getting answers to my questions and protecting those I loved. As with most things in my life, it wasn’t a perfect solution, but maybe that was okay. Maybe an imperfect, challenging solution was just what I needed. It was better than running away. This was the time for me to take a stand; to be the strong, confident, decision-making person I had always wished I could be. He could deny my requests and turn me away, dashing all my hopes in the process, but that wouldn’t change the fact that I had tried. That I had seen a chance and done something to right a wrong I felt so damn strongly about.

  Thankfully, after a few tense moments, he stood and took the proffered blade. His turquoise gaze bore in to me as he ran it across his hand, never blinking. His grip was tight as we shook upon it. “Agreed.”

  “Agreed,” I echoed.

  Again the tingle; again the fire. When the flash of agony disappeared, so did the wound on my palm. He handed me back my blade, which too was clean of blood. Nifty trick, these blood pacts. I liked how they cleaned up after themselves. He sat back down as I sheathed the knife, already ignoring me in favor of Yeats. Despite having focused his attention elsewhere, he said, “Be aware that things will be different this time around.”

  I chuckled. “I should damn well hope so.”

  A flick of those blue orbs dried up my mirth. “I meant with you. How do you feel about me right now?”

  Boy, was that a loaded question. I choked back the smart-ass answer and settled on, “Not particularly strongly one way or the other, really.”

  “Exactly.”

  It took a minute for me to catch that drift, and when I did a whole different sort of chill ran over me. I wasn’t the least bit attracted to him anymore. Not even the slightest whisper in the panty department.

  “The Warding is at its full strength now. That will protect you, but given your nature for trouble—and your ability to scrape yourself up once you find it—you must have more care. Seana will not be able to fix your ills any longer.”

  Did I detect a hefty dose of smug asshole-ishness in those words? Whatever. Let him be pissy and self-righteous. I let it slide. “Thanks for the warning.”

  He nodded once, in that perfunctory way he had, and continued reading. “That will be all.”

  Oh, how I hated being dismissed. I bit my tongue and dropped into an exaggerated curtsy. “Yes, your royal highness.” My hand was on the doorknob before another thought gave me pause. Something about the night the we had all met up with the Lynx had been stuck in my craw for weeks—I just had to know. I looked back over my shoulder. “Kaine, when the Lynx dropped the mom bomb you didn’t seem at all surprised.”

  He turned his head slowly, the flickering fire making his hair shimmer like gold. His eyes flashed. His face was a mask of indifference, the corners of his mouth hinting at the barest of smiles. “I wasn’t.”

  I held that gaze for a long moment before returning that smirk with one of my own. Fine. Let him keep his secrets.

  I had time.

  ~*~

  Oh, that narrow staircase: my sworn enemy.

  I thought back to another chastised walk of shame up those stairs, from months earlier. I had thought I had been filled with the pinnacle of self-loathing and anxiety then, but boy had I been wrong. They didn’t hold a candle to the newest knot in my stomach. Facing Kaine had been clown shoes, compared to the confrontation that lay before me.

  The memory of my last words to Gannon echoed in my head, bitter and filled with anger. I had made amends with Kaine, true—but I wasn’t so sure this bridge would be as easily repaired, if at all.

  When I crossed over the threshold into the training room, I found Gannon deep in practice. My presence didn’t make him miss a beat. Watching him run through his flawless series of katas was breathtaking. He moved like the wind, like deadly poetry in motion as his blade flashed through the swathes of moonlight. It made my chest tight.

  I had so much more to learn, so much more he could have taught me, but I wasn’t sure that would ever come to pass. Truthfully, I wouldn’t blame him. I had been cruel. I wasn’t sure I deserved his forgiveness. I turned to leave, frozen in place by his voice as it rang out; somehow whisper soft even across the distance.

  “Tuesday, 7 o’clock.”

  Tears stung my eyes. It was hard to get the words out around the lump that formed in my throat. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  I headed back down the stairs with a smile.

  If you enjoyed Iron,

  be sure not to miss the upcoming sequel

  Faster

  The Warding: Book 2

  by Robin L. Cole

  Chapter One

  There comes a time in every girl’s life when she reassess the choices she’s made so far.

  I’m talking about the big picture choices. Not the little things we mull and obsess over every day, like “Was that skirt a bit too short for the office Christmas party?” or “Am I going to hate myself tomorrow for eating that greasy double cheeseburger—with a side of large fries…and a strawberry milkshake?” I’m talking about real choices. Those important decisions that have far-reaching consequences that you just know will come back to bite you in the ass, but you willfully ignore because you’re all caught up in the moment. Like, “ignoring your better judgment and taking home that guy from the club because he’s just too fine to pass up a night of naughty gymnastics with” big. Maybe even “quitting your horrible soul-sucking job without having another one lined up” big.

  For me, that moment came as I hung upside down in a building along the Hudson River.

  I didn’t know what it had been home to in a previous life. Maybe some sort of a clothing manufacturer, given some of the odds and ends entombed within, but that hardly mattered anymore. It was a monument to disrepair: old, abandoned, and, if the scritchy little sounds I heard in the dark below me were any indicator, likely rat infested too.

  Gross.

  We had found enough suspicious scraps and discarded bones to confirm that our quarry had once called the building home. If it was still indeed in residence was the million dollar question. We had searched all three upper levels to no avail. Other than decomposing furniture, a shit-ton of dirt, and disgusting heaps of debris I didn’t even want to try and identify, the building appeared empty.

  That left the basement. The staircase leading down to the lower level had fallen away long ago. Was that the unfortunate side effect of time or a cunning move to make it impossible for intruders to stumble upon a private nest? Who knew? Not me, that’s for damned sure. It didn’t much matter in the long run. One way or the other, we were taking a look. It was
a huge pain in the ass that needed to be circumvented.

  The solution?

  Lower Caitlin down into the dark, of course.

  The cavernous space before me was pitch freaking black, except for a weak shaft of light coming from the stairwell above. Even with one wall perilously close to me, I felt disoriented. My brain just couldn’t handle the overwhelming darkness. It didn’t help that I was gently swinging back and forth, suspended from an honest-to-God harness like some trapeze artist. The damn thing was digging into my gut in all sorts of uncomfortable ways, cutting off the circulation to my legs. I guesstimated I was halfway between the floor above and the ground below, but it was hard to tell.

  Maybe it was better that way. I really didn’t need to know how far the fall to my death would be, should Gannon’s grip fail.

  The whole shebang was far from my idea of fun, but a necessary evil. Upper body strength and I had only recently become acquaintances, and though Gannon was all lean muscle, I had no faith in my ability to keep him aloft had our positions been reversed. Truth be told, I hadn’t been too eager to let his strength by my sole anchor either, but—what could I do? One of us had to play spelunker and see if our unwelcome guest was still living below. Two little girls—twins, fresh out of kindergarten—had gone missing earlier in the week. Of course, the police were focused on tracking down the sicko who had taken them, but they were hunting for a run-of-the-mill abductor. We knew better. All signs pointed here and to a monster that needed to be stopped. Pronto.

  “See anything?” Gannon’s voice was pitched low but it reverberated in my brain, loud and clear thanks to my snazzy top-of-the-line Bluetooth earpiece.

  I had finally stopped swaying. My face was starting to feel hot as all the blood pooled in my head, so I wanted to make the sweep quickly. I pried the flashlight from its pocket on my harness and said a silent prayer. We hadn’t been able to come up with too clear a plan on what to do if the creature actually was hiding down there. I was armed with my trusty stilettos but they weren’t going to be of much use to me while caught in mid-air. Gannon couldn’t exactly come to my rescue either. Not without dropping me on my head.

 

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