Blade Song

by Daniels, J. C.

  Those eyes flashed again, and then, to my surprise, that eerie, flickering glow melted away and he stared at me with a human gaze. “Are you done?”

  “Possibly.” I twisted the blade once more. Maybe I really was crazy. “Are we going to keep doing this or are you going to let me work?”

  He reached up and closed a hand around the blade.

  Shifter flesh met the enchanted silver and started to smoke. As he pushed it away, he leaned in and said, “You can work, little girl. But sooner or later, you and I are going to have a reckoning.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  It wasn’t Doyle.

  Staring down into that battered, unrecognizable face, I couldn’t really even find any relief over the fact that it wasn’t the kid I was searching for.

  Yay. I got to live a little while longer.

  But this kid was dead, and he’d died horribly.

  “It’s not him,” I said to Lincoln, still staring at his battered face.

  “How can you be sure?” Lincoln stood next to him, his dark face dubious.

  “For one…the hair is the wrong color. My kid is a blond. And… He’s not a cat. I think this boy was a wolf.” Even though life had left him, I could sense that fading energy. He hadn’t been dead long enough for it fade completely and I could still see it, hovering over him like a creature in mourning.

  I could almost hear its grieving howl echoing through the air as I crouched down by the table, studying the disaster that had been his face. “Shit, what did they do to him, Linc?”

  “Tortured him, poor kid,” the cop said, his voice heavy and tired. “How can you tell he’s not a cat? Our tests haven’t come back yet.”

  I shrugged. “I just can.”

  “You’re certain?” Lincoln asked.

  Rubbing my temple, I sighed. “Certain? No. Not one hundred percent, but…”

  “He’s a wolf,” Damon said from behind me.

  Lincoln looked at him, then at me.

  I shrugged. “Meet my bodyguard. One of the cat shifters. My gut says this is a wolf, but his nose would know for certain.”

  Lincoln narrowed his eyes. “Bodyguard, huh? Who exactly did you piss off enough to need a bodyguard?”

  “You know me.” I rose and startled to circle around, studying the boy’s body. Spying a box of gloves on the table, I snapped a pair on and reached for his hand, eying it closely.

  “Yeah. I know you. So the better question would be who haven’t you pissed off.”

  I glanced up at him and saw the concern in his eyes. I shrugged. I wasn’t about to go into detail here and there wasn’t really any point anyway. How did I explain that I was working an impossible case where I was making people angry and the bodyguard was both my ball-and-chain and my life preserver? Linc would be worried enough to ask questions and those kind of questions wouldn’t help him, or me.

  He’d probably be safe since he was human, but I wasn’t taking a chance. I liked Linc. He was nice to me and unlike a lot of humans, he didn’t treat the NHs of the world like shit. He was decent.

  “Look at his hands,” I murmured. The tips of the kid’s fingers were raw, the nails nothing but nubs, bloodied and dirtied.

  “They had him trapped somewhere,” Lincoln said. He pulled on a pair of gloves himself and moved to the opposite side of the body, lifting the hand and showing me those fingertips were in the same condition. “He tried to climb out. For a long, long while.”

  Just thinking about that made me quake. It wasn’t a good thing to think about right now, so I decided to handle it in the most mature way possible. Denial.

  Conscientiously, I continued to study the boy’s fingers, the scraped and bloodied raw tips. “He should have healed, though.”

  “Not if they were starving him.” Damon came to stand beside me. A muscle jerked in his jaw. “It would be hard to say if he had gone through his first change or not, but if he had spiked or was going through the first few changes, he’d have to eat more than twice what a shapeshifter normally eats—building up reserves. And we eat a lot.”

  Lincoln glanced up, then back down, keeping his attention focused either on the kid’s lifeless body or me for the most part. “So they probably had him a while.” He nodded. “Narrows the victim list down some.”

  “The wolves will know who he is,” Damon pointed out. “Contact them. They are probably looking for him.”

  I curled my lip. “Not everybody cares when their kids are missing or abused,” I said.

  Weakling…your mother should have strangled you with your cord when she had you…

  I twitched as the voice of my grandmother whispered through my mind. Damn it. I usually managed to avoid thinking about her—sheer determination on my part, but something about this case was plucking at those memories.

  Screw her. I am my mother’s daughter—my heart is strong. My heart is strong—

  “Shifters take more care with their kids,” Damon said, that familiar snarl in his voice.

  “Uh-huh. You saw a lot of care down in Wolf Haven, didn’t you?” I could have pointed out that I’d seen what a lovely parental unit Doyle’s aunt appeared to be. Definitely all full of sunny smiles and hugs, that one. But I decided not to bother.

  Making another pass around the body, I studied his hair, his feet, noticing the shredded skin of his soles, the scrapes and bruises on his hands and legs. None of it told me anything. At least not yet. Just part of the puzzle for now.

  Stripping off the gloves, I looked at Linc. “You going to call the wolf pack?”

  “Planned on doing it after you left.” He smiled lazily. “I fumbled my way to that conclusion after you said wolf. I trust your instincts, Kitty girl.”

  I heard the sarcasm in his voice, although I’m not entirely sure if Damon did.

  “I assume their people will take it over?”

  Linc shrugged. “That’s up to them. The body was found on common ground, outside of the wolf pack’s registered territory. But if he’s theirs, they have jurisdiction.”

  I nodded and turned away. As an afterthought, I turned back. “Hey, can I give you my card? That way, you’ll have my cell. If you hear anything unusual that might tie into the runaway I’m looking for, maybe you can give me a call.” Just in case that wasn’t working, I gave him a gamine smile and tried to flutter my lashes.

  Linc lifted a brow.

  Flirtatious and charming. Obviously not my milieu.

  “Sure, Colbana.” He stripped off his gloves and accepted the card I held out, giving me a solemn nod.

  Linc was a sharp one, sharp enough that he’d probably pick up on the things I couldn’t say in front of my unwelcome bodyguard.

  As I headed back out, I paused long enough to grab the sheet and pull it back up over the boy’s battered, broken body. “I hope somebody finds who did this,” I said to Linc. “I don’t care if it’s you, or the wolves. But somebody needs to suffer for this.”

  Linc met my eyes, nodded shortly.

  Without another word, I left.

  Damon, thankfully, was silent.

  Colbana.

  The message popped up on my phone sometime past eleven that night.

  Sprawled on my bed, going bleary eyed as I combed through yet another batch of runaways, I grabbed the phone with one hand and flipped the sheet over me with my other. I was just barely fast enough.

  The door to my room opened a micro-second later.

  I was dressed. Workout shorts, a tank top, decent enough, but still. Studiously ignoring him, I read the message and tapped back a reply.

  The one and only.

  That’s a relief. Can’t handle two of you, Linc texted back. So, exactly why did you make a point of giving me your cell number when I’ve had it for three years now? I mean, I called you to ask you out about once a week for a year.

  I smiled a little as I deleted the message before replying. Linc had picked up on that, all right.

  The shadow fell across my bed, although I didn’t hear
him.

  Rolling around, I casually settled with my back against the headboard and glanced up. “Any reason you’re in my room?”

  Damon leaned a shoulder against the bedpost, stared at me. “Who is the message from?”

  “A guy.”

  Black brows ratcheted up. “You really think you got time to mess with that shit right now?”

  “Hey, when you got an itch…” I shrugged and sent Linc back a reply. Just need a favor. When the results come back on the kid, can you email me them to my old email? Not the current—somebody reads them over my shoulder right now. He’s also trying to read my texts, BTW.

  I deleted that message as the asshole in residence pushed away from the bedpost and prowled closer.

  Sure thing, gorgeous.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Two seconds later, the phone was out of my hand.

  “You asshole, give me my phone back.”

  Damon read the message, then went to scroll back through the other messages. “Why are you deleting the messages?”

  “None of your damned business!” I snapped. Rolling to my knees, I went to snatch the phone way.

  I stopped as he lifted a hand and rolled out of his reach in a backwards shoulder roll before he could so much as touch me. Coming off the bed, I kept it between us as I stared at him.

  He’d warned me there was a reckoning coming and while I figured it would happen sooner or later, I’d rather not have it happen just yet. My palm itched. Absently, I twisted it as the bones popped.

  Damon wasn’t messing with my phone anymore. He threw it down on the bed and glared at me. “Would you quit acting like every time I move, I’m going to attack you?”

  Call me…I’m here, I’m here—

  The sword was on my bed and she burned unnaturally bright.

  He glanced at her and said, “If you even move toward that thing, I’m going to bend it into knots.”

  I curled my lip at him. “Like you could.”

  He leaned forward. “Is that a dare, little girl?”

  “No. It’s a plainly stated fact. Now…why don’t you do us both a favor and get the fuck out of my bedroom?” I jutted my chin out, rotated my wrist again as the itching and heat flared. The sword flashed brighter. I usually wasn’t this close to her without having her in my hand.

  I couldn’t help it, though. Ever since he’d spouted off that little piece about a reckoning, I’d been on eggshells, just waiting for whatever the hell he had in mind. If he thought he could leave another mark on me, damn it, I’d bloody him.

  He leaped over the bed. I backpedaled and faded into nothingness, going invisible as he came for me.

  This was one time where his sense of smell might not help.

  The entire room smelled of me.

  “Damn it, considering how mouthy you are, you’re a damned coward.” A smirk was on his lips as I brushed by him, just barely missing his outstretched hand. He moved back over by the bed and settled on the foot of it, that sly, Cheshire cat grin curling his lips as he reached behind him, closing his hand over the grip of my sword.

  My breath hitched in my chest.

  Mine—

  His eyes flickered my way. No, he couldn’t see me and tracking me by scent was harder. But he heard that, damn it. I couldn’t stop the way my heart reacted when he touched my blade. Couldn’t stop it.

  “Don’t like seeing me play with your toy, huh?” He lifted her and caught the tip in his other hand. Muscles flexed. “How about if I twist it up a little?”

  He couldn’t. Others had tried.

  But she was mine—

  She flared, bright as the sun, and disappeared. I dropped the invisibility as she settled into my hand. “Keep your damned paws off my blade, cat.”

  He was staring rather dumbly into his hands.

  A rather queer look settled over his face as he lifted his head to study me. “So that’s how you do it.”

  Was there really any point in responding to that? I twirled my wrist, satisfaction settling inside me. Having somebody else touch this blade was like having somebody combing through my underwear drawer or something. Maybe even worse.

  “That’s why you’re always popping your wrist or wiggling it when you’re worked up, isn’t it?”

  Staring at him, I held her at ready. “Are you going to leave me alone or not? I’ve still got reports to go through and I’m tired.”

  “What’s your range on calling it?” He stood up, still eying the sword. “Are there other weapons or is it just that one?”

  As he took a step closer, I lifted her. “Please stay away.”

  “I thought we had a truce,” he murmured. A smile tugged at his lips.

  If I didn’t know what a bastard he was, I might have almost believed the smile. “Doesn’t mean I want you getting close to me.”

  He eyed the sword, then me. “You can’t really hold it like that forever. I can just stand here until you lower it. All I want to do is talk, Kit.”

  “I can hold it a lot longer than you might think.” Memories of drills danced through my mind. Fanis had broken the bones in my forearm when I was twelve because my guard got shaky. When the same thing happened at fourteen with a heavier weapon—a battle-axe—she’d broken my right humerus and my collarbone. I knew how to hold my guard, and despite what he thought, I was stronger than humans.

  “So you’re going to stand there and have a pissing contest over nothing rather than an answer to a question?” His smile widened and his gaze dropped, staring at my tits as though the close-fitting tank top wasn’t even there. “Okay. I’ll just enjoy the view.”

  Hissing, I lowered the blade and spun away.

  Spying a T-shirt thrown over a nearby chair, I grabbed it and stalked over to my bed. Once more, I kept it between us as I put the blade down. “Take it again, and I’ll just call it back,” I said flatly, jerking the T-shirt on over my head.

  I didn’t even have time to gasp for a breath.

  He was right there.

  A hand on my neck held me in place. Swearing, I flexed my wrist. “Go ahead,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’m not…”

  I tensed as I felt his hand catch the hem of the shirt I’d pulled on.

  “What in the holy hell happened to your back?”

  I clenched one hand into a fist. Closing my eyes, I just stood there.

  Seconds ticked away, bled into minutes.

  He didn’t ask again.

  Finally, he let go.

  I didn’t open my eyes again until I heard the door close behind him.

  I didn’t move for probably ten more minutes. I wasn’t sure if I could. If I moved, I just might shatter.

  Chapter Nine

  “Such a little weakling…”

  Fanis stood over me.

  Aneris Hall. The aneira stronghold. The royal family’s home. My grandmother’s home.

  I cringed on the floor of the room where they’d locked me, cradling my aching arm to my chest.

  “The healer has to re-break the bone,” she said, moving to pace around me.

  I wanted to cry, but I didn’t dare. I knew better.

  “She said she could give you an elixir so you would sleep through it but I will not allow it.”

  Biting my lip, I tried not to beg. There was no way I would beg. The last time I’d begged…my back still had the scars.

  “Do you not have anything to say, granddaughter?”

  I shook my head.

  “Good.”

  She stood by as the healer broke the bones. And as I screamed, she smiled.

  You are dreaming…

  I flinched at the sound of his voice.

  Jude was the last person I wanted to see witnessing those dreams.

  “The absolute last?” he murmured, stroking a hand down my arm. The one she’d broken.

  Forcing my eyes to open, I found myself lying on the bed. The dream world was almost painfully vivid and I gasped. I could smell the lingering stench of burnt popcorn—the family
next door had burnt some a few hours earlier and it had yet to fade. There were also the familiar scents of lavender and vanilla, coming from the scented rocks Colleen made for me.

  And Jude. Sitting by me, stroking a hand up and down my arm.

  “You can see into my dreams now?”

  He shrugged. “Bits and pieces, yes.”

  “Wonderful.” I struggled to move, figured it would take a few more minutes, but to my surprise, I was off the bed and moving in a blink. “Whoa. That’s unexpected.”

  Jude smiled. “I tap into your energy when I break into your dreams. Now that there is a link between us, I don’t have to do that and there is no drain on your resources.” He dropped his chin on his fist as he eyed me narrowly. “You’re an odd bird, Kit. Most humans can’t move for hours when I do this. I’d expected I’d have more control over you now that I’d tasted you but…”

  A faint line appeared between his brows. “It appears I don’t.”

  “I’m not human.”

  He shrugged. “You are…in part. You’re not witch, and you’re no shapeshifter. The aneira even show as human in any testing that is done on them, did you know that?”

  I shrugged. “And this matters to me…why?”

  “Just as I said. You’re an odd bird.” His head cocked and a smile curled his lips. “You’re about to have company.”

  I frowned. Two seconds later the door opened and Damon came prowling in.

  He moved to pause by the bed and when he looked down, I did the same thing. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t really moving around my room. I was just dreaming. In reality, I was in the bed. Still, it caught me off guard to see myself, lying there. Vulnerable.

  The last thing I wanted to be around Damon.

  Rubbing a hand over my chest, I focused on the naked back of the shapeshifter instead. He wore a pair of low-slung workout pants and if I didn’t hate him, I might have enjoyed the view very, very much.

  “It figures the bastard sneaks in while I sleep.”

  “Don’t get your maidenly honor all worked up. He is worried,” Jude said, shrugging, his tone bored.