A Family Oath

by Auburn Tempest

  Moose comes inside with us and closes the door. Male voices argue in the next room, but they’re too muffled to hear what they’re saying. It’s not rude to eavesdrop if it’s you people are talking about, is it?

  Liam and I sit on the sofa, and I close my eyes and reach out with my gifts. Wind Whispers.

  “My master paid for the bookshop owner, not her assistant. This won’t do. It won’t do at all.”

  “The tree nymph is gone and under the protection of the Grand Governor. There’s no way to get her now that she’s secured within the alpha’s compound. The assistant is the next best thing. She works in the shop and can help you find what you’re looking for.”

  “No, she can’t. That’s not what was agreed upon, and you’ve forfeited the agreement. You’ll have to dispose of her. She knows too much.”

  “What about the money you owe us?”

  “The money was to be paid at the time when you brought Myra D’anys here, not the girl.”

  “Then our business is concluded.”

  I let out a heavy breath and sigh. “Well, shit.”

  “Well, shit, what?”

  Before I can answer, Goon One opens the door and nods at Moose. “Our business here is done. Good thing we have another buyer.”

  “Wait? What?” My mind stalls out on that one, but before I can find out what that means, Moose grabs us and we’re portaled again.

  We’re back on our knees, coughing and groaning, this time with a concrete pad as our floor.

  “What’s happen—” Liam gags and unloads a night of drinking onto the hard, cold floor.

  I look away, or I’m going to hurl too. “Serves them right. Moose, you gotta work on your transport skills, dude.”

  Rough hands dig into my arms, and the world tilts in a blur. I’m dragged to my feet and swallow, my head still spinning from Mr. Moose’s Wild Rides.

  “Liam?”

  “Yeah.”

  Goon One has Liam, and they’re right behind us.

  As we round a corner, I clue into the surroundings.

  Moose nods at two men in blue leather armor guarding a set of metal doors. As we cross the threshold, we’re in a wide corridor with tiled walls and floors and fluorescent lighting humming over our heads.

  My hamster runs NASCAR fast in my head, trying to put the pieces together. This place is cold and sterile and feels like a subway station—“Oh, crap.”

  Chapter Nine

  Liam’s ice-blue gaze shoots me a sideways glance. “Oh, crap, what, Fi? I hate it when you say shit like that.”

  I study the space, surer of things with each second that ticks past. “I don’t know who the high bidder for my head was, but I have a bad feeling I know who the runner up is.”

  “Yeah? Who?”

  “I’ll bet my balls we’re prisoners of Kartak of the Narrows and his hobgoblin dickwad army.”

  Liam frowns. “He’s one of your new friends who wants to catch up on the gossip? Her bestie asks with a fleeting shred of hope lacing his otherwise sexy tone.”

  I’d laugh, but there’s nothing funny about any of this. “Nope. He’s a vengeful asshole out to make me pay for showing him up and making him look redonkulous in front of the mighty Lakeshore Guild.”

  “Awesome. You do have a way with people.”

  “Don’t I? I’m expecting to be named Miss Congeniality Toronto any day now.”

  “It’s a lock.”

  Moose takes us into a long, open throne room filled with a couple of hundred men. If this were still a working subway line, we’d be standing on a crowded platform. What was once the track has been built up as a raised platform with a run of five thrones.

  Emperor Kartak sits in the center in the highest and largest of them, with two women to his left and two men on his right.

  He swapped his fancy gold and blue tunic for a gold top that stretches across his chest’s banded muscles and what looks like a black flak vest. Unlike in the luncheon cruise’s dining room, I have no doubt he has weapons available to him should he choose to pull one out and impale me.

  The crowd parts for us as we make our way forward and the buzz of male voices hushes to an expectant silence.

  Moose stops our approach, and I keep my hands loose at my sides, ready for anything. “Take one step toward the Emperor, and you die.”

  “Rude. Seriously, Moose, I thought we were past all the judgy snark. We had a moment, remember? At the washroom? We both reached for the doorknob at the same time, and our fingers brushed. I giggled, and you blushed. It was like something straight out of a Rom-Com.”

  He stares at me stone-faced.

  Liam shakes his head. “I don’t think he remembers.”

  “Oh, he remembers. He’s just playing it cool because we’re not alone. He’s shy like that, my Moose.”

  The mammoth vampire reaches behind his back. When he straightens, he rests his hand against his tree-trunk thigh with a gun in full view. After widening his stance, he clasps his hand over his wrist and pegs me with a glare. “Not. One. Step.”

  “Fine, then. We are so over. You screwed the pooch on our budding relationship.” I flash Moose a look and focus on the man of the moment. “Emperor Kartak. I didn’t expect to meet with you again so soon.”

  “That was your miscalculation, female. Did you think I would let your impudence stand unchallenged?”

  Impudence stand unchallenged?

  I bite back a dozen quips. As much as I enjoy tough odds, I’m outmatched here at two hundred to one. Even if Liam were trained and could hold his own against hobgoblin goons, it would still be a hundred to one.

  And he can’t. So, it’s not.

  “Look, what happened with the Vow of Vengeance doesn’t have to be a thing between us. I realize that Droghun put you up to it. When it got revoked, you didn’t get the update. Garnet explained that to me, and I accept it. Accidents happen, amirite?”

  I hope he’ll take that lie as an opening not to declare war on one another. “As far as my family and I are concerned, it was all a big misunderstanding. We’re good.”

  Kartak throws his head back and barks a laugh. “We are far from good, female, but depending on what happens here and now, perhaps I’ll allow your father and brothers to live.”

  The threat rankles every bit of patience in me. I want to lunge, to call Birga for her to drink Kartak’s blood, to level everyone who thinks it’s okay to threaten my family.

  I can’t. It’s a death sentence for both Liam and me if I let my temper get the best of me.

  “Killing me might give you some personal satisfaction, but it won’t raise your standing with the Guild. Garnet already looked into Barghest’s charges about me threatening them. He knows they’re bullshit. He knows you jumped on their bandwagon. Don’t get jammed up because of their hostility.”

  Kartak laughs again, and the crowd around me erupts into a roar of amusement. “I don’t wish you dead because of what Droghun and their druid scum say. I have my own reasons.”

  “Well good, as long as everyone’s goals are clear. So…this is a death to Fiona shakedown?”

  “Unless you can prove yourself more useful to me alive.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “I heard you’re searching for the true copy of the Eochair Prana. If you have a lead on where it’s been held the past centuries, that would be worth telling me.”

  “I only learned about the book twelve hours ago. I have no idea who has it or where it is. I can’t help you.”

  “Then you’re no use to me.” Kartak tilts his head, and I follow the telegraphing of his gaze.

  Moose nods and raises his gun.

  I’m staring at the barrel when—bang, bang.

  I scream as the vampire’s gun goes off and I hit the tile floor. The shots echo against the hard surfaces of the underground tunnel, and the world slips into slow motion.

  Liam is heavy on top of me. I bring my bloody hands up from between us. My ears pound with the thunder of blood pul
sing through my veins and my hearing fritzes.

  Liam chokes, and blood splatters out of his mouth.

  “Liam!” I roll him off me and kneel beside him, my vision growing wavy behind tears of equal parts terror and fury.

  Moose moves behind me, and my warrior side bursts forward. I call Birga to my palm. With a two-handed swing, I roll back and slice through the air.

  No normal weapon would have the bite to decapitate a vampire in one swipe, but Birga’s no ordinary weapon. I catch Moose’s neck and his head clunks to the floor.

  The crowd erupts, and I scream and swing to hold them back. Two hundred to one is impossible. They won’t part the way and let me leave with Liam, and he doesn’t have time for me to negotiate.

  We need to leave.

  I swing Birga once more to back off the hobgoblin horde, then sheath her, drop over Liam, and grip my upper arm.

  I told Liam I have an escape plan up my sleeve.

  With everything in me, I focus on being in the lair of the Queen of Wyrm Dragons.

  * * *

  A split-second later, I materialize on the rough-hewn stone of the Queen’s lair and breathe a sigh of relief. My hands are bloody and trembling, and I look up at the startled and concerned gaze of Patty and the dragon queen herself. “Pardon the intrusion, Majesty. I hate to pop in and out, but I must get my friend to a doctor. I’ll return as soon as I can to explain.”

  As far as I know, my dragon portal trumps all other transportation modes, but I also know there is always a cost for doing magic. With that in mind, I don’t try to leap back to Toronto into a hospital. Instead, I focus on the one place I’m sure Liam can get the help he needs.

  When I open my eyes this time, I’m crouched on the polished stone floor of the Mackenzie family’s Stonecrest Castle. “It’s okay, Liam. I’ve got you. Wallace can patch you right up. I know it.”

  I sit back on my heels and look around the clinic. “Help! Wallace? Sloan? I need you.”

  There’s no one here. I launch to my feet and swing open the stainless-steel doors to Mr. Mackenzie’s supply cupboard. I grab a couple of towels and race back to Liam. I press a towel onto both entry and exit wounds and wince when he cries out. “I’m so sorry. I have to slow the bleeding.”

  “Fiona?” The gray lynx pads toward me, his fluffy paws silent on the stone. His bright green eyes take in the heap that is my bestie, and his lips curl back over his canines. “You smell like vampire.”

  “I’ll explain later. I need Wallace and Sloan. Hurry.”

  “Right away.” Sloan’s animal companion turns tail and races off.

  “Okay.” I swipe my hair out of my face with the back of my wrist. “Help is coming. Wallace is the best healer in the Order. He’ll fix you right up.”

  Liam’s breathing is scary enough, but there’s a weird click rattling deep in his throat, and it makes my stomach squirrel. “You’re going to be fine. Hang in there.”

  Tears clog my words, and I can’t seem to swallow past the lump in my throat.

  I hear the thundering of approaching footsteps at the same time Sloan appears at my side. “Fiona, are ye hurt?”

  I shake my head. “Liam’s shot. I need your dad.”

  “I’m here.” Wallace rushes through the door. “Get him on the table and expose the wound.”

  “This will hurt, sham. I’m sorry about that.” Sloan scoops Liam off the floor and sets him on the steel surgery table. His pain sears me, and I match his strangled cry.

  With steady hands and the same efficiency he shows in all situations, Sloan cuts away Liam’s shirt and exposes his chest. “I have an entry wound left side upper quadrant, no exit, and a second entry wound in his back, also no exit.”

  My legs threaten to fold beneath me, so I sit before I fall. The room spins so I lay flat on my back. From my place on the floor, I watch the two Mackenzie men trying to save my best friend. “It’s his birthday,” I hear myself say. “He can’t die on his birthday.”

  Another man and a woman rush in and take Sloan’s place. The moment Sloan’s relieved, he kneels beside me. He brushes his hands over my shirt and looks frantic. “Are ye hurt, Fi? Did ye suffer any wounds yerself?”

  I shake my head, my gaze locked on the chaos at the operating table. “Liam jumped in front of me. The hobgoblins did it… No, a vampire did… The hobgoblin king ordered it.”

  Sloan scoops me up off the stone and a blink later, we’re in his room.

  “No. Take me back.” I fight against his hold, but he’s strong, and I’m trembling so badly I can’t make my arms work.

  He carries me into his ensuite and sits me on the vanity beside his sink. “Da has things in hand. Yer no help to them hoverin’ and cryin’. Let me get ye cleaned up, and we’ll check on him right after.”

  I blink at Sloan, and I’m numb. “I don’t… They shot him.”

  Sloan wets a facecloth and runs the moist heat over my face. “They did, but ye got him help, and he’ll be fine. Ye’ll see. Da works miracles every day in that clinic.”

  I hope so. I have to believe Sloan because a world without Liam isn’t a world I want to be in. It’s already bad enough that I lost Brenny. “I hate guns so much.”

  He finishes washing my face and rinses the cloth in the sink. I blink at the swirling pink water and don’t understand. “How… Why am I bleeding?”

  “It’s not yer blood. Let’s not think about it. Tell me what happened. Ye said it’s Liam’s birthday, before. Were ye out on the town celebrating?”

  “We were all at Shenanigans. Liam was feeling the buzz, so I took him out back to get some air.”

  “Gettin’ jumped out the back of Shenanigans is a bad habit of yers.”

  “It seems to be a favorite spot for disreputable men. Maybe I should avoid going back there.”

  “Might be a good idea.” He finishes wiping my hands and upper arms and rinses the cloth again. “So, yer gettin’ some fresh air. Then what? May I take off yer shirt? It’s soaked through and yer shiverin’.”

  I lift my arms, and he eases my blouse over my head, and it falls to the vanity with a wet plop. While he continues his male nurse routine, I go on to explain the night’s events beginning with Goon One coming out to detain us in the name of the Guild and ending with Liam bleeding on his castle floor.

  “So, yer Da and the boys, they know the vampires got ye, but that’s all they know?”

  I blink. “Oh…they’ll be frantic.” I reach for my pockets, but my hands shake too much to retrieve my phone.

  Sloan squeezes my trembling grasp and smiles. “It’s fine, Fi. I’ll call them. Here, let me get you a clean shirt, and ye can change while I let them know yer safe.”

  Sloan comes back with a long-sleeved jersey a moment later and leaves me to change and pull myself together. I splash some water on my face and by the time I’ve taken off my bloody bra and pulled on his shirt, I feel a little more myself.

  “Howeyah?” he says as I emerge from the bathroom. “Anything I can get ye?”

  I glance at the digital clock beside his bed and groan. “No wonder I’m ready to drop. It’s three in the morning back home.”

  “Then look no further for a place to lay yer head. Climb up and close yer eyes. I’ll check in on Liam and will wake ye if yer needed.”

  I stare at the crisply made bed and smile at how disciplined he is. I must boggle his mind in every direction.

  “I should wait with Liam.”

  “Da will work on him and knock him out cold with painkillers. You might as well both get some rest.”

  “You promise to come get me if he needs me?”

  He presses his hand over his heart. “I swear it.”

  Giving in to exhaustion, I head over and climb in. “When we were kids, Mam made us attempt to make our beds. She said it was important to start the day by making a good impression. After she died, we all kinda lost interest. Da always said our bedrooms were our personal spaces and were for self-expression, not good impressions.
”

  Sloan smiles and helps pull the coverlet out from under me to tuck me in. “My Da always said, no one likes a slovenly soul. If ye expect food on the table, we expect ye to earn it.”

  I sigh. “It doesn’t rhyme.”

  “No. It doesn’t. Close yer eyes, Fi. Ye’ve had a night. Ye’ll feel better after a few hours’ sleep.”

  He moves to step away, and I catch his wrist. His arm is warm, and I squeeze it, feeling grounded for the first time in hours. “Thank you.”

  He winks and strikes off for the door, catching the light switch on the way out. “Sweet dreams, Fi. And don’t worry about a thing. I’ll fend off the world for ye for a little.”

  * * *

  I wake later lost in one of those moments where you’re unsure where you are or what day it is or how you even got there. It’s the smell that grounds me. With my face in the pillow, the musky male scent that is unique to Sloan fills my senses. Right. It all floods back in a horrific rush.

  “Liam.” I bolt upright and smile at the gray lynx stretched out on the bed beside me.

  “Is our naptime over?”

  I exhale and flop back to the mattress. “I need to check on my friend.”

  “He’s well enough.” Manx wriggles on his back.

  “Thanks for getting help earlier.”

  He rolls onto his stomach and gives me a hopeful look. “You could repay me by giving me a back scratch. There’s a spot right between my shoulder blades that I can never get.”

  “How could a lady say no?” I scrub my fingers through his fur and marvel. “Gawd, you are so soft.”

  “I do try to take care of my coat. Healthy diet, exercise, and regular grooming. Thank you for noticing.”

  I finish with his shoulder blades and give him a couple of long strokes from head to tail. The black tufts at the tips of his ears are adorable, and I’m humbled, as always, that as a druid I get to share this type of bond with an animal.

  “Where’s Sloan?”

  “In the recovery suite, I suppose. He said the only way you’d rest is if he made sure you didn’t miss anything important with yer friend.”