by Martha Carr
Beside her, Tate finished tying a makeshift tourniquet around his thigh, which two flying machines had mashed up pretty badly. He cocked his head when he heard Lumil’s and Byrd’s roaring shouts and the screams of Bull’s Head loyalists meeting their red fists and his green fire. “Did you know they were coming?”
“Kinda gave up hope on that one.” Ember darted back from the edge of the glassless window when a snaking metallic arm shot up over the ledge to pull itself up. She blasted it away with more violet light and shrugged. “Guess they came through.”
Yurik squeezed off more shots with his fell rifle, then stopped. He jerked his head away from the scope with wide eyes. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
Ember peered over the edge of the balcony to see a zigzagging streak of silver light blazing across the reception hall. Maleshi’s snarling face appeared in brief bursts as every loyalist she met screamed and choked and dropped to the ground. Sprays of blood erupted left and right as the Bull’s Head magicals met General Hi’et’s fury and the sharpened edges of her silver claws.
Jamal, Bhandi, and Todd paused in picking off the loyalists coming after them. Bhandi ripped off her helmet when Maleshi’s silver lightning streaks darted to their side of the reception hall. “What the actual fuck?”
The general stopped beside her with a snarl. “You’re welcome.”
“Watch it!” Todd lifted his fell laser cannon in both hands again as the war machine with a lasered-off wingtip groaned to life.
Maleshi darted away from them in a burst of light, and a second later, she was on top of the flying machine, slashing it to ribbons with her claws. Bhandi slapped a gloved hand on Todd’s laser weapon and lowered it back down in front of him, shooting him a warning look.
“Yeah, okay.” The human agent shrugged and let Maleshi do her thing.
In under a minute, the general had slashed through all the remaining working war machines and Bull’s Head loyalists, except for one. Welyk struggled against the pulsing silver ties of the nightstalker’s magic that had secured his arms behind his back and cinched his ankles. “What the fuck do you want, Hi’et?” he snarled.
Maleshi looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. “A chat. Things are changing, dae’bruj.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. When the Crown gets—”
“The Crown doesn’t want anything to do with you, shriveled-up shit. He has plenty of more important things on his plate than listening to your pathetic excuses.”
Welyk stopped struggling, his yellow eyes wide as he craned his neck at the nightstalker. “He?”
“The Ironbreak. Didn’t you hear? Now shut up before I change my mind.” Maleshi stalked away from him and looked around the destroyed room littered with war-machine parts, body parts, and blood. “Where’s Cheyenne?”
Ember pointed at the open doors behind Jamal, Bhandi, and Todd. “She went after the colonel that way.”
The remaining FRoE agents who’d shown up with Colonel Thomas tried to sneak away. Bhandi smacked the side of her weapon and lifted it as it powered up again with a whine. “Don’t move, assholes. You’re not walking away from this clean.”
The human agents stopped and glared at her. Jamal raised one of his fell rifles and grunted. “Weapons down, dipshits.”
One by one, the other agents’ firearms hit the floor, and they backed up against the wall under the direction of Bhandi’s fell pistol.
“Hmm.” Maleshi watched the scene with indifference, then her silver eyes narrowed. “You’ll probably wanna join me, Ember.”
“Yep.” The fae turned to Tate, then glanced at Rhynehart. “As soon as I know she’s okay, I’ll come back to help you guys.”
Sitting with his back against the wall and looking paler than usual, Rhynehart snorted. “What are you gonna do about a bullet in my shoulder?”
“You’ll see. Just two minutes.” Ember turned and floated down the hall to the dark stairwell in the back. She emerged again on the ground floor as Maleshi marched past her.
“Did you see where she went?”
“Not after she left the massacre back there.” Ember looked over her shoulder at the open doors.
“I’m in here!” Cheyenne’s croaking shout was loud enough for them to hear. Maleshi pointed at the branching hallway on their right, and they hurried that way.
Sir stepped out of the room at the end of the hall and froze when he saw the nightstalker woman and the fae floating beside her. He lifted both hands in surrender and slowly shook his head. “Whatever you’re thinking, I didn’t do shit to her.”
“Oh, yeah? That’s very reassuring.” Ember glared at him and floated past Maleshi. “Cheyenne?”
“Come on in, Em.”
Ember reached the open door and stopped in front of Colonel Thomas’ body. Then she saw Cheyenne sprawled against the wall and the deactivated, tentacled war machine lying in a broken heap in the corner. “What the fuck?”
“I know.”
“Jesus, Cheyenne! I thought you were smart enough not to go running into a trap by yourself!”
“Yep. Me too. There’s a first time for everything, right?” A weak chuckle escaped the halfling, and she grimaced. “But now you’re here, and I could use a little help.”
“Okay. With what?” Ember floated cautiously around the colonel’s body to approach her friend.
“As far as I know, that machine pumped me full of something that pretty much wiped out all my magic. And motor function. Couldn’t talk there for a while, but that’s obviously improved.”
“Oh, my God.” Ember let out a heavy sigh and sank down to sit beside Cheyenne in a flash of violet light. “If you can’t move, how’d he get on the floor?”
“That was me.” Sir leaned against the doorframe and shrugged. “Surprises all around, huh?”
Ember frowned at him, then glanced at Les Thomas. “Is he dead?”
“Ha. I fucking wish.” Sir’s mustache bristled as he glared at his superior. “Wasn’t a fatal shot, but he’s gonna have a hard time figuring out which one hurts worse, the bullet hole in his side or the massive concussion.”
“Congratulations,” Cheyenne muttered. “Can we focus on the person who needs healing?”
“Sorry.” Ember turned back to her friend and looked her over. “So, I’m drawing out poison or something?”
“Whatever you can, Em. I’d like to move and use my magic at the very least, but I’ll take whatever.”
“Right.” Placing one hand on Cheyenne’s shoulder and the other on the halfling’s waist, Ember took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Warm golden light bloomed beneath her palms, and she breathed slowly. “Oh.”
“Oh, what?”
“Oh, I can feel it.” Ember tilted her head. “Like a giant off-switch.”
“Yep, that’s about right. Please tell me you can turn it back on.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, so shut up and let me.”
Maleshi snorted and folded her arms. Sir quickly stepped away from the doorframe and backed up into the hall, staring at the nightstalker he hadn’t known was right beside him. The general jerked her chin at him and wiggled her eyebrows. “How’s it goin’?”
He glared at her, then looked at the ceiling. “This whole fucking day is nuts.”
Ember’s hands trembled slightly as her healing magic did its work in Cheyenne’s body. A smoky gray film rose from her prone form and dissolved quickly in the air. She coughed a few times, groaned, and pushed herself up off the floor to sit against the wall. “Thanks, Em.”
The fae let out a slow breath and opened her eyes. “That was a lot.”
“And you’re good at what you do.” Cheyenne sucked in a sharp breath and clenched her eyes shut.
“What’s wrong?”
“Pain.” A wry chuckle escaped Cheyenne, but it cut off abruptly under the growing pain of her first attempt to stand. “Lots of it still.”
Ember frowned. “But I got it all out.”
“I think this was a preexisting condition.” Pulling down on the collar of her shirt, Cheyenne exposed one of her shoulder wounds and the black streaking lines of blight spreading away from it. “Fuck.”
“Oh, my God.” Ember leaned toward her friend’s shoulder. “That looks really bad.”
“Keeps getting worse, doesn’t it.” Cheyenne lifted her shirt back into place and gritted her teeth. “At least we can check one of the things off the to-do list now.”
“I’m so sorry.” Ember floated back up and offered her friend a hand. “I didn’t know I’d make it worse.”
“How could you?” Cheyenne grimaced again when Ember helped her to her feet. “It’s not your fault.”
“I’m not helping, either.”
“Ember.” Cheyenne dipped her head and held her friend’s gaze. “I’d rather have longer black streaks in my skin than be paralyzed, okay? Being paralyzed is how I almost got shot in the head. I’ll be fine.”
She gave Ember’s shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze, then stepped past Colonel Thomas’ body without looking at him. “So, what’s the plan for taking out the trash?”
Sir looked at her sharply, then glanced at the colonel’s body. “One that makes me wanna tear what’s left of my hair out. I’d love to kill the fucker, but we need to do this by the book if we’re gonna keep this from happening again.”
“You mean, you’re not into turning on your boss just for fun?”
“I think your humor’s been paralyzed too, halfling.”
“Whatever. For the record, I agree with you. By the book.” Cheyenne reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the darktongue injection canister.
“What the fuck is that?”
“Medicine. Why does everyone suddenly give a shit?”
Ember floated out of the room and frowned. “That might be the last one.”
“Yeah, I know, Em.” Cheyenne lifted the bottom of her shirt and pressed the canister against the side of her stomach. It clicked and hissed, and she closed her eyes. “I need a minute.”
“I swear on the body lying in that room, halfling, if you’re fucking juicing—”
“It’s not steroids!” Ember shouted at the same time that Cheyenne growled it out.
Sir grimaced so hard that his upper lip lifted to reveal his top teeth. “Calm the fuck down, will ya? Christ. You magicals have anybody who can carry Colonel Fucktard outta here, or do I need to go hunt down a stretcher?”
Maleshi chuckled, making the man jump and stumble away from her in surprise. “I can remove him for you, but you might not see him again.”
“Then forget it.” Waving her off and trying to look casual about it, Sir pressed his back against the wall and pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll make some calls.”
Cheyenne reached out to steady herself against the doorframe as the hallway spun all around her. I would’ve thought I’d built up a tolerance to this stuff by now. “How’s everybody out there?”
“Well, I’m here.” Maleshi spread her arms. “How do you think everyone’s doing?”
“So, all the loyalists are dead.”
“All but one, kid. I’ve got some pretty special plans for Welyk if I do say so myself.”
With a deep breath, Cheyenne opened her eyes and blinked off the spinning warm and fuzzy daze from the darktongue serum. “What about everyone on our side? I mean, besides Rhynehart.”
Ember flicked her gaze to Sir and slowly shook her head. “That was fucked up, man.”
“It was me trying to buy some goddamn time.” Sir grunted. “He’s not dead, and it fucking worked.”
“Tate had his leg ripped up by some machine bugs,” Ember said, turning back to Cheyenne. “He’s trying to laugh it off, but I don’t think he’s going anywhere on his own.”
“Okay.” Cheyenne ran a hand through her bone-white hair and took another deep breath. Starting to feel like me again. Let’s get going on this. “I guess you better go take a look at them both.”
“Wow.” Ember laughed and playfully rolled her eyes. She floated past Cheyenne and gave her friend an exasperated look as she headed down the hall. “I pulled poison out of you that was tailored to your magic. I’m quite sure I can heal a bullet hole and a mangled thigh, thanks.”
The fae took off and disappeared around the corner to the reception hall, and Cheyenne looked at Maleshi. “Glad you showed up to the party, by the way.”
“Well, you know me, kid. I can’t let everyone else have all the fun.” The general glanced at Sir and shot him a wink.
The man vigorously shook his head and got busy making whatever calls he’d said he’d make.
Cheyenne pushed herself off the doorframe and headed slowly down the hall, finding her legs again after the darktongue serum’s initial hit wore off most of the way. Maleshi fell in line beside her with her hands clasped behind her back. “I also showed up because the idiot twins begged me to help them out.”
“What?”
“Apparently, they spent an unconscionable amount of time arguing over whose GPS worked better and whether the address you gave them was the right one in the right city.”
Cheyenne snorted.
“I know. They’re useless for pretty much everything that doesn’t have to do with bashing in skulls and tossing magic around.”
“So you ported them here last-minute and figured you’d join in just because.”
“I ported them in last-minute and let General Hi’et unleash what she’d been waiting a very long time to unleash on the Earthside Bull’s Head.” Maleshi glanced down at the cuffs of her jacket sleeves, which were covered in sprays of drying loyalist blood. A brief flash of silver light illuminated at her fingertips and the bloodstains disappeared. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’ve now collectively taken out at least eighty percent of the bastards who still think they’re answering to the Spider on the O’gúl throne. Maybe eight-five, but that might be stretching it.”
“Well, it’s a start.” Cheyenne stuck her hands in her coat pockets as the doors to the reception hall came into view. “We still have a lot of cleanup to do after this.”
Maleshi chuckled and passed the halfling on their way through the doors. “Piece of cake, kid. I can clear away my messes almost as quickly as I make them.”
Yeah, wish I could say the same.
Chapter Forty-Nine
After Ember’s successful healing on Rhynehart and Tate, they all came back downstairs to the main level of the building to join the rest of their team, the goblins, and Maleshi. Bhandi jerked her chin at Tate and Yurik when they stepped through the double doors. “Looks like you get another battle scar to show off on poker night, huh?”
Tate slapped his newly healed thigh and grinned. “No scar. That fae knows her shit.”
Ember shook her head, though she couldn’t keep a small smile off her face. “She also knows how not to get shredded by giant flying beetles, but I guess that’s beside the point, huh?”
“Ha!” Bhandi pointed at the fae and grinned. “You’re funny.” The next second, both hands were on the grip of her pistol as she swung it toward the FRoE agents she’d kept pressed up against the wall. Her grin vanished. “Just because I’m laughing, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about you. Don’t even think about it.”
One of the human agents with a shaved head glanced around and frowned. “About what?”
“Whatever the fuck you’re thinking about. It’s that simple.”
Rhynehart stepped up beside Cheyenne and let out a low whistle as he gazed at the loyalist bodies and the shredded machine parts all over the reception hall. “Hell of a sting.”
“Right.” She shot him a sidelong glance. “Little bit of an improvement over the first one, huh?”
“For you, maybe. I’m the one who got shot this time.” He nudged her arm with his elbow and glanced down at his open hand and the blood-smeared bullet resting there. “But I did get a souvenir.”
“Nice. I didn’t have that luxury, or a
fae to pull it out of me half an hour later. I think you drew the lucky straw here.”
“Whatever.” Rhynehart shoved his hand and the bullet into his pocket and stepped aside at the sound of a dozen pairs of footsteps marching down the hall toward them.
Sir appeared outside the doors first and pointed down the hall on the other side. “First right. Room at the end of the hall. He’s out cold, but if he wakes up and starts making threats, he’s already got a soft spot on his skull. I won’t ask if you had to use it.”
Two of the men in dark-gray fatigues nodded and took off down the hall to grab Colonel Thomas.
“Who are those guys?” Cheyenne muttered.
Rhynehart shrugged. “FRoE MPs, more or less.”
“You guys have your own police?”
“Hey, I’m not included in that group anymore, but yeah. Usually, they show up when somebody gets a little rowdy on base. Haven’t seen them in the field for a long time.”
Cheyenne shrugged. “First time for everything, I guess. Hopefully, it’s the last time too.”
She looked and caught Sir’s gaze as he stepped through the doors, with the rest of the MPs in dark-gray fatigues behind him.
“This is what I mean by cleanup, halfling.” Sir glanced at the MPs and gestured at the agents guarded by a snarling Bhandi and one of Jamal’s casually aimed rifles. “When you get back to base, hold ‘em on the north end. I don’t want anybody talking about this until we have a few things sorted out.”
“Major.” The closest MP nodded and pulled a pair of handcuffs off his belt as he approached Bhandi and Jamal. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Great.” Bhandi wiggled her eyebrows at the guy. “You’re welcome.”
“Wait a minute.” The bald human agent leaned forward as his hand was jerked behind his back and cuffed by another FRoE member who could’ve been his drinking buddy on any other day. “Sir, we were following orders. You were following orders! Hey!”
He struggled against the MP’s grip on his arm as the other man dragged him to the doors. “Where’s Colonel Thomas? This is ridiculous. He said no one would touch us. You can’t do this!”