“Grandmother Fey said to find a hustler.”
“A hustler?”
“Aye. The hustler knows where the demon is, apparently.”
“Where in Edinburgh are we going to locate this hustler?”
Joaquin stretched his neck sideways until it popped. Many little pops sounded from him as if he’d been stored away inside of a box.
“Someplace I’ve never heard of,” he said, leaning backward until a crackle came from his lower spine. “Mary King’s Close.”
Chapter Five
The Circle
Joaquin rode ahead, leading the way over the road that cut through the quiet landscape. It suited Pierce just fine, for he preferred having his brother safely in his sights.
“Are you going to avoid each other throughout the entire trip?” Taisia whispered to Pierce.
“Unless I absolutely have to speak to the cocker. Aye.”
“I heard that,” Joaquin remarked.
“Good,” Pierce retorted. “I said it loud enough for you to hear.”
Joaquin halted and waited for them to ride up alongside him.
“You’re going to have to trust me sooner or later,” he pointed out, now riding beside Taisia.
“Later rather than sooner,” Pierce returned.
“Uh,” Taisia chimed in from between them. “Joaquin. That’s Spanish, da?”
“Indeed. I was named after our great-great-grandfather, Joaquin Cruce de Tierras. He was a runaway orphan who migrated from Spain to England sometime in the 1600s. He helped form the family’s first Gypsy troupe.”
“Oh?” she said, intrigued. “That’s interesting. We recently found out that your grandfather is a forest elf.”
Joaquin nearly fell off his damn horse. “Pardon?”
“Aye,” Pierce explained. “His name is Durothil. Grandma told me he’s one of the oldest elves in Europe. She’s taking Mum to the Netherlands to meet him.”
Joaquin stayed silent, apparently processing this.
“So, our grandfather is an elf, and Grandmother Fey is a witch. What’s on Dad’s side—leprechauns?”
“I have no idea,” Pierce admitted. “It seems our familia is brimming with surprises.”
“Da, Bunny Boy,” Taisia chortled.
Joaquin leaned back in his saddle, laughing loudly. Pierce narrowed his eyes at her.
“Cheers,” Pierce grumbled.
“Bunny Boy,” Joaquin chuckled. “I forgot about that nickname of yours.”
“What are you bloody well giggling about, Wormy?” Pierce fired back.
Joaquin snapped his jaw shut.
“Yeah,” Pierce brayed. “Didn’t reckon I’d remember that, did you, eh?”
“’Wormy?’” Taisia asked.
“Aye, when we were kids, Joaquin would collect earthworms. He’d put ’em everywhere—jars, cans. He even stuffed the little bastards inside his pockets.”
“It’s true,” Joaquin admitted with a mischievous grin. “The little buggers always used to squirm out of my clothes. The troupe started calling me Wormy.” To Pierce, he said, “Oi. Remember once when Mum nearly belted me when she was washing our clothes and reached into the pockets of my slacks, only to get a handful of earthworms?”
Despite himself, Pierce snorted.
“Oh, aye. Never had she screamed so loudly. You dashed off into the forest and hid until she calmed down.”
“Took a while, too. Stayed out in those woods all day, I did.”
The brothers chuckled and laughed at the memory. Pierce couldn’t deny that it was pretty damn funny.
A smile touched the corner of Taisia’s mouth. “I’ll give you both some time to catch up.”
She rode on ahead and out of earshot. Without her, Pierce’s good mood soured.
“She’s quite lovely,” Joaquin remarked. “Are you two . . . ?”
“Together?” Pierce cut in sharply. “Aye.”
Noting the harsh look on Pierce’s face, Joaquin threw up his hand.
“Just inquiring, is all. Do you believe she’s the one for you?”
I bet my life on it.
Pierce didn’t fancy him asking about Taisia. “We’re not having this conversation,” he returned tersely.
“Right. Right.” Joaquin waved it off indifferently. “Touchy subject, I understand.”
“Do you? Then understand this,” Pierce warned earnestly. “If you try harming her in any way, whether you’re in control of yourself or not, I will put you down.”
Pierce meant it, too, and to show his seriousness, he stared hard at Joaquin for a while longer before trotting on to join Taisia.
“This is gonna be a long trip,” Joaquin muttered.
Couldn’t agree more, Pierce thought.
* * *
Hours later, they had reached Salisbury. Pierce knew they needed to decide on where to sleep for the night.
“We ought to pass through Salisbury and find an inn north of it. It’d be safer,” Pierce suggested.
“Safer?” Taisia asked.
“Aye. Joaquin is still a wanted man, and I doubt me being pardoned will be countrywide news anytime soon.”
“Hold up,” Joaquin said, trotting up alongside them. “Did you say pardoned?”
“A Royal pardon,” Taisia added.
Never had Pierce seen a more shocked expression on anyone’s face. Pierce didn’t blame the sod. Even he couldn’t believe it.
“But how?” Joaquin asked.
“It’s a long story.” Pierce waved it off. “The pardon came with a condition, though. I have to leave England.”
“You mean to tell me you’ve been booted out of the country?”
“Yip.”
Joaquin laughed so loud, it echoed across the countryside.
“Only you, little brother.”
“Even so,” Pierce griped, “my pardon won’t do me any good if no one is aware of it. Not to mention . . . you and I are very popular throughout Britain. It’d be best to stay low, eh?”
“I know where we can make camp,” Joaquin said in a calmer tone. “I wanted to show you this place, anyhow.”
They cut through Salisbury, stopping nowhere. An hour and a half later, they arrived in Upper Woodford.
“I think we’ve gone far enough,” Pierce said, following behind Joaquin. “It’ll be dark in a few hours.”
“Then we don’t have much time to get there,” he remarked over his shoulder.
“Get where?” Pierce asked.
“You’ll see.”
Pierce held his tongue and followed. In truth, the more ground they covered, the better. They passed through the sleepy little town of Upper Woodford and pressed on north. When they arrived, Pierce thought it was a joke.
“Stonehenge?” he said as they slowly rode toward the circular stone structure.
“Neveroyatnyy,” Taisia gasped in awe.
Pierce turned to her, wishing he could understand what she had said. He needed to let her teach him Russian.
“How long has this been here?” she asked.
“For centuries, I reckon,” Pierce answered.
They halted their horses and dismounted when they reached the tall formation.
Pierce gazed at it. “I haven’t been here in ages.”
He stood with hands on his hips while Taisia explored the inner circle. Pierce couldn’t deny how impressive it was. The rocks stood as tall as a house, with thick stones slabs lying across their tops. Some of those slabs had fallen to the ground within the circle. Many theories and myths surrounded the place. Most agreed that Stonehenge had been very old—ancient, even—before Britain was Britain.
“Pierce!” Joaquin called.
He spotted him in the distance, waving him over. Pierce huffed and approached.
“What is—?” he began when his foot caught on something, pitching him forward. He landed hard in the tall, thick grass. “Fuckin’ hell,” he complained.
Taisia rushed for him. “Are you all right?”
“A
ye,” he said as she helped him up. “I have a bad habit of tripping over things, apparently.”
He looked at what had tripped him. A tree stump deeply embedded into the ground. Then he spotted another severed trunk nearby, and then another near that one. They seemed to be forming a circle.
“Pierce, come over here,” Joaquin ordered.
He rubbed the pain in his wounded leg, agitated by the fall, and limped to the center of this mysterious second circle.
“What is this place?” Pierce asked.
“It’s where you were born.”
Pierce stopped short and gawked at him. “Come again?”
“Aye,” Joaquin said. “Right here. Where I’m standing, in fact. The troupe had made camp here. While Mum explored the area, she went into labor in this very spot. The elder Gypsies said Mum went into labor when she entered this pagan circle of trees. You seemed anxious to come out into the world, because, no less than an hour later, you arrived.”
Joaquin moved aside and allowed Pierce to stand in the spot.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I was here when it happened. I stayed by Mum’s side the entire time while Grandmother Fey delivered you.”
Pierce studied the circle. Most stumps were barely visible through the tall grass; others were nearly swallowed up by the earth. He didn’t know how he felt about being in his exact birthplace. He had often wondered where he was born, yet he had never asked, even when he and Joaquin were on good terms.
“Why haven’t you told me this before?”
Joaquin shrugged. “Never gave it much thought until now.”
“Where were you born?” Taisia asked Joaquin.
Joaquin paused for a long moment.
“Not sure, actually. I ought to ask Mum when we return.”
They set up camp near Stonehenge and ate the food they’d brought from Indigo’s place. Pierce kept glancing over at Taisia. It had been days since they’d been together intimately, and it was driving him mad. If she felt the same way, she hid it well. He debated about sneaking her off after Joaquin drifted off, but the moment he laid his head down and closed his eyes, he was asleep.
Chapter Six
The Apology
The morning fog was heavy and moist. When Pierce opened his eyes, he found he had to wipe dew off his face with his coat sleeve. The campsite was empty.
“Taisia?”
He rose and scanned the area. The mist prevented him from seeing much.
“I’m over here,” she called from within the fog
He followed the direction of her voice and soon, poles appeared. They were tall timber posts jutting up nearly as high as Stonehenge just over yonder. They weren’t perfectly shaped poles. Most of them stuck up like thick fingers pointing crookedly toward the sky.
But the beams hadn’t been there before, right?
A small gathering of men, women, and children, stood inside the circle. They were dressed in robes and holding crackling torches. The firelight blended into the dull, misty morning. Some of these people wore masks made of leaves, while others had tattoos on their faces. Their hair was lengthy, matted, and braided. They appeared not as ghosts, but more like echoes of a population long gone. They were worshipers of nature who praised the gifts that the earth had provided them. Gifts that modern men and women took for granted.
They watched Pierce as he approached the place of his birth. No one uttered a word as he walked by. He had no fear of them, but they forced him to wonder, Why have they come?
Taisia stood in the center of the circle.
“Taisia,” he said. “What’s going on?”
As he drew near, he noticed gunshot wounds in her, and the blood that poured from them.
“Don’t believe it, Pierce,” she told him.
Pierce was trying to reach for her when he snapped his eyelids open. He sat up and gasped in the cool morning air. The campsite was vacant. Alarmed, he scrambled to his feet. He didn’t fancy Joaquin’s absence any more than Taisia’s. Before he dove into a panic, though, he headed for Stonehenge. Taisia had been quite taken with the structure. Perhaps she’d gone over to have another look. To his dismay, she wasn’t there. Instead, he found Joaquin sitting cross-legged on a fallen stone slab inside the circle, facing away.
“Where’s Taisia?” Pierce seethed as he approached.
“What?” Joaquin asked from over his shoulder.
“Taisia,” Pierce repeated. “Where is she?”
Pierce’s blood ran hot with rage, mainly at himself for drifting off and letting his guard down.
“I don’t know,” Joaquin answered, twisting around to face him. “She was asleep when I awoke.”
Pierce stopped and put his hands on his hips and said irritably, “She isn’t bloody well at the camp now.”
When Joaquin stood, Pierce noticed he had no gun on him. Pierce had his.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea where she is,” Joaquin admitted flatly. “Maybe she’s taking a piss. Women do that, y’know.”
Pierce considered that possibility.
Breathing in deeply, he said, “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
Joaquin folded his arms with a stern look of his own. “Not that it’s any of your fucking affair, but if you must pry, I was asking for strength and tolerance.”
“Tolerance?”
“Aye. Since we’ve been on this trip, you’ve given me nothing but flak.”
“Oi! Remember this?” Pierce yanked down his scarf and pointed to the scar.
Joaquin shied away, too ashamed even to set his eyes on it. “Don’t, Pierce.”
Joaquin’s voice was drenched with pain and remorse. Pierce realized he needed to ease up.
Instead of pressing the matter, Pierce asked, “Who were you asking this tolerance from, eh?”
His brother eyed him. “From those long gone from this Earth.”
“Really?”
“Aye. I’d be mighty closed-minded not to believe there’s more out there than what we can see.”
From experience, Pierce understood that all too well.
“Pierce?” came Taisia’s disembodied voice from within the fog.
“See?” Joaquin huffed. “She’s just fine and dandy.”
The amount of relief washing over him was enough to flatten him to the ground.
“Be there in a minute, love,” Pierce called to her. Feeling a bit sheepish, Pierce said to Joaquin, “Erm. We should leave soon.”
Pierce hurried to the campsite and when he saw Taisia, he hugged her so hard she hollered, “Ow! Pierce!”
She pulled away and gave him a slap on the arm.
“Sorry,” he apologized, throwing his hands up.
Pierce had lost many people he cared about in his life: friends, lovers, and family members. And although he had regained some, the paranoia of losing someone else cut him deeply. The dream had done nothing to ease his worries, either.
“What is the matter?” she asked.
The dream had rattled him, but he didn’t want to tell her what he had seen.
“Nothing. Just glad to see you, ’tis all. We should mount up soon.”
“All right,” she said curiously. “Can we eat first?”
“Of course!” he answered overzealously. “I’ll get it going.”
“Um. Need any help?”
“No,” he insisted, dropping to his knee to grab the last of the firewood. “I’ll have it ready in a jiff, darling.”
Pierce realized he was acting like a loon, but he didn’t give a toss. In a short period of time, Taisia Kuzentsov had become his reason to live. If any misfortune befell her—the love of his life, his future bride, and the future mother to his children—he’d never recover.
After breakfast, they mounted up and headed north.
They rode a full day before reaching the small market town of Royal Wootton Bassett and found an inn. After giving Joaquin his key, Pierce took Taisia by the hand and led her away. Once the door closed and locked
behind them, she threw herself at him and kissed him hard. He couldn’t get her undressed fast enough.
* * *
Joaquin ate a meal downstairs in the hotel tavern. He sat alone near the fireplace, drinking a pint and wrestling with his thoughts. He often thought back on the night when he became the savage monster that had slit his beloved brother’s throat. The guilt had recently deepened when Pierce hesitated to answer their father’s question about the scar. The look of horror on Mother’s face when Joaquin admitted he was responsible for it had nearly done him in. If Grandmother Fey hadn’t defended him, Joaquin’s heart may have given out to grief.
It thrilled him to no end that Pierce had agreed to come along—reluctantly, yes, but he came nonetheless. Now, the brothers had a chance to mend things between them. However, Pierce needed to trust him again, which seemed far-fetched even to him. Joaquin couldn’t blame him, especially after he had nearly killed him again at the church a few weeks ago. After Joaquin had darted into the woods, he’d spent a great deal of time thinking about how Pierce had risked his life to save him from that bastard, Tarquin Norwich. He had been outnumbered, and yet Pierce had stuck his neck out for him. As thanks, Joaquin had put a knife against his throat for the second time.
A cramp twisted inside his stomach.
He wanted things between him and Pierce to be the way they were before the witch’s curse—and before the blade. Perhaps the way back into Pierce’s heart was through the woman who had stolen it. Pierce had never been the sort to throw threats around unless he meant to act on them. Pierce’s overreaction to his mentioning Taisia, surprised him. His little brother was in love, and in order for Joaquin to regain his love, he needed to win Taisia over. He would even go as far as to protect her, if need be.
He finished his drink and retired to his room.
Unfortunately, Joaquin’s chambers were next to Pierce and Taisia’s. The moaning and screaming, Taisia constantly calling out Pierce’s name, and the creaking of the mattress and the headboard banging relentlessly against the wall behind Joaquin’s head kept him awake.
“Unbelievable,” he grumbled.
Unable to take it any longer, Joaquin got out of bed and returned to the tavern.
The Underground Page 5