He nodded. He needed to tell her about the shard, but a voice called from atop the stairs.
“Adam?”
Adam looked to the elves, but they’d vanished. Bobby came down the stairs, footfalls knocking.
“What?” Adam called. He shifted so his legs dangled off the bed.
“What happened to you?” Bobby asked, a note of what sounded like real worry in his voice. “You’ve been out for almost twenty-four hours.”
Adam shook his head. “I tried to find out more about the spirit, about where it came from. It didn’t go well.”
“But did you?” Bobby asked. “Find out about it?”
“Yeah,” Adam said. “Quite a bit.”
For the first time, he felt hopeful. They knew a little more. They maybe had a weapon.
Adam groaned as he tried to stand.
“You don’t have to go,” Bobby said, holding up a hand.
“I need to talk to Argent,” Adam said, lurching his sleepy limbs toward the bathroom. “But first, I need to piss.”
“There’s also the matter of your eye,” Bobby said. “We should have it checked, just to be certain it’s not permanent.”
“What?” Adam called before turning on the light and checking the mirror. “Oh, gross!”
30
Adam
“So?” Argent asked. “What did you learn?”
“Silver and Perak are the same elf. You knew that and didn’t tell me.” Adam threw up his hands. “Oh, and your father is forcing Silver to be his heir, which he does not want. Now we’re both escaped convicts from the universe’s nicest beachside prison resort.”
Argent tilted her head at him. “You forget yourself, Adam Binder.”
Just a few days ago he would have flinched, realized he’d been flippant with the Queen of Swords. Now it felt normal to tell her how he really felt. They were almost something like friends.
“Sorry,” he said. “Silver said your father sent him to teach me, to give you another mortal practitioner to throw at it, because all the others died.”
“He did,” she said. “They did. What else?”
“It’s using magic to rebuild itself. That’s why it wanted you to attack it.”
Argent waved for him to continue.
“Then there’s this,” Adam said. He laid the shard on the table. It gleamed, black and green.
Argent leaned toward it.
“This was at the site?”
“And apparently it can sever the tendrils. What is it?”
“This is old, older than me, perhaps older than father,” she said running a finger over the writing. She sounded reverent when she said, “This magic is lost to us. But I think it was a seal.”
Adam nodded. The images he’d gotten from the spirit when it attacked him meshed with that.
“It was broken,” Adam said. “Intentionally. Why would someone set this thing free?”
Turning from him, Argent opened a large three-ring binder and began flipping through pages of clipped newspaper articles.
“Sometimes our fixation on the past has its uses,” she said. She read and flipped too quickly for Adam to follow. Finally, she landed on an article from five years prior and tapped for Adam to read.
Someone had broken into Mercy. They hadn’t taken anything, but when a guard had caught them, they’d killed him and left the scene.
The article included a grainy image from the old security cameras. Adam leaned forward.
It could be him. It could be Adam’s dad. The height and shape were right.
“We won’t be able to go back,” Argent said. “Not with the spirit watching for you. My brother will not forgive me if I risk you again.”
Adam nodded to the shard. “Silver used this to sever the tendril connecting the spirit to me. Could it save Annie?”
“Perhaps,” Argent said. “It is worth trying.”
“When?” Adam asked. “Can we go now?”
Anxious as he was, the idea worried him. He could feel his magic—thin, weak. Another journey wasn’t wise, not until he had time to recover from his trip to Alfheimr. He felt it like a bone weariness, shaky and empty of blood, like he was too tired and had drunk too much coffee.
“It will have to be tonight. Our accord with the gnomes requires me to send warning. I will go with you.”
Adam looked at her.
“I will come, not Silver,” she said.
“Why did you send him last night?” Adam asked, blurting out the question.
“He needed to tell you, and you needed to be told. You weren’t taking my hints, and I couldn’t stand his moping any longer. He’s been morose since Father forbade him to see you. Even the patience of immortals has limits, Adam.”
“He could have sent a message,” Adam said. “Said something.”
“Silver is . . . traditional. He did not mean to hurt you, but he has duties. He must fulfill them. That is part of who he is.”
“He saved me,” Adam said. “From the spirit. It could have killed him, and he saved me.”
Argent closed her eyes, let her head bob.
“He loves you very much. He always has.”
Adam exhaled. “I don’t know what to do about that, my lady.”
“I know,” she said. “Neither does he. He won’t let it compromise his duty, and he cannot set it aside.”
“Tonight then,” Adam said.
“Pick me up here,” Argent said.
*****
Adam drove back to Bobby’s. The hospital was positioned weirdly, just off the grid where the highway made the most sense, so he took side streets and found them crowded. The heat didn’t help his mood. It should have been fall. Where was all the snow to cover the dead, skittering leaves piling along the sidewalks?
Halloween, Vic’s voice whispered, quieter than it had been before Adam’s jaunt to elf land. It usually snows by Halloween.
He smiled to feel Vic there, in his head. It was a warm relief that grayed when he thought of Silver, of waking with the elf beside him. They hadn’t done anything, but Adam remembered before.
He wanted a cold shower, for a few reasons, and almost pulled over to take off his shirt, but he didn’t want to stop, so he cranked the AC. The Cutlass blew out some dust, a bit of plastic and burnt rubber smell that always accumulated when he didn’t run it for a while.
He passed a large park, the green full of joggers and cyclists. Everybody here seemed to do something outdoorsy. Everybody here, Vic included, seemed to be in better shape than Adam.
He stopped at a light, and the Cutlass stalled. He got her going long enough to turn onto a side street and pull over. Adam looked around. These were nice houses, not as new as Bobby’s, but they spoke of money. They were old, like the Martinez’s, but much bigger.
Adam got out, lifted the hood, and peered inside.
“Vapor lock,” he muttered.
Adam examined the engine. He kept it clean, but no one could miss the wear and patchwork repairs. There was as much magic in there as bailing wire. He cut her going through sheer force of will, most days. Right now, he didn’t have the strength. She’d just have to cool off before she’d start again.
The Cutlass, usually a comfort, felt beaten up and broken down. She’d be beautiful, if he had the money to sink into her.
Or he could sell her, probably get a few thousand for her. Adam crushed that idea. That was how Bobby thought.
“Besides, then what?” he asked. He’d be out a car and the only concrete connection he still had to his father. He could remember the angry parts, the fits and throwing things. But the softer moments, like the action figures his dad would pinch from Walmart, or walking to the lake to fish, were getting fuzzier.
Then he remembered nearly drowning. His father had tried to kill him. Adam wanted to deny it, but
he couldn’t. He’d laid a trap for a five-year-old and almost succeeded.
And he killed the guard at the hospital, set the spirit under Mercy free.
As with all things Dad, Adam needed to know why.
And he needed to tell Argent that the warlock and the seal breaker were the same.
The Cutlass started up. Adam made a mental list of parts she needed as he turned onto Bobby’s street, a shower and a nap his only plans before he met Argent. The loneliness of the house, what he’d felt from it in Annie’s absence, deepened. He thought that maybe places missed people, like cats missed their owners, though people thought they didn’t. Maybe this wedding cake of a house missed Annie.
Adam pondered inviting Bobby to come with them. If the shard worked, he’d have Annie back. But if it didn’t, he’d have given Bobby false hope.
Then again, Adam wasn’t so certain Bobby cared about Annie. The way he went to work, lived his life, Adam was starting to suspect Bobby saw Annie as one more symbol of his success, not a partner.
Adam didn’t have much experience with relationships, but he was certain he wouldn’t do that to anyone, and he wouldn’t be that for anyone.
“Mom?” Adam asked, coming through the front door. He expected to find her in the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. He heard her laugh, an alien sound, and took the few steps into the unused den, ears and eyes cocked for trouble.
His mother sat on the love seat, across from Vic, who sat on the couch.
“Oh, honey,” she said, looking up and smiling at him. “You’re home. Vincent has come for dinner.”
31
Adam
Adam’s heart did a little flip as he stepped into the den. His mother and Vic sat across from each other, looking perfectly at ease and normal.
“What are you doing here?” Adam asked. It came out sounding more demanding than he meant. He smiled, afraid Vic would think Adam didn’t want to see him. He did, but the visit to the clock tower loomed.
“I thought I’d come check on you,” Vic said, squinting with mock suspicion. “You’ve been too quiet.”
Adam’s heart dropped a little. He had no idea how to explain about where he’d been or what he’d learned.
“I’m going to get dinner ready,” Adam’s mother said. Standing, she looked from one to the other. “You are staying, Vincent?”
“Vincent?” Adam muttered, lifting an eyebrow.
“If it’s not any trouble,” he said. “I can have my brother come get me after.”
“Adam or Bobby can drive you home,” she said, sweeping toward the kitchen, a faint miasma of cigarette trailing behind her.
“That would be nice of you,” Vic said. He leveled brown eyes on Adam and smiled wolfishly. Adam swallowed.
“Vincent?” Adam repeated.
“Your mom can call me Vincent,” Vic said. Eyes narrowing, he leaned forward. “Her accent is terrible.”
“Yeah,” Adam drawled. “We’re pretty white.”
He flushed with a warmth that started at his center and radiated downward as he took the seat his mother had vacated. He and Vic watched each other for a moment, waiting until Adam’s mom started rattling around the kitchen before they spoke again.
“What’s up?” Vic asked.
“You seem better,” Adam said.
“I’m healing, faster than I should. A lot faster,” Vic said. “The docs say I’m young and strong, but that’s not all of it, is it?”
Piercing. Searching. Those weren’t words Adam had thought he could associate with brown eyes but there it was, Vic’s stare, focused and hard. It reminded Adam of Vic’s cop face, the one he’d wore when he’d found Adam in the records room. Adam didn’t hate it, but he squirmed a little under the weight.
“No,” he said.
“What did you do, when you saved me?” Vic asked.
Adam ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what to say, how to say it, so he let it spill out. “I tied us together.”
“How?” Vic asked, eyes narrowing.
“Magic,” Adam said with a grimace and a shrug. “I took a strand, a bit of my life, and wove it to yours.”
“You can do that?” Vic asked.
“I guess so,” Adam said with a shrug.
“Why?” Vic asked. “Why did you do it?”
He seemed almost offended. Adam could feel Vic’s curiosity, but not his interest. That had waned. Adam’s heart fell. He’d been right. The fading connection had Vic doubting his attraction to Adam. He was resetting to who he should be.
Adam made some awkward combination of a shrug and a cringe. “Because I could.”
“Are you sorry you did?” Vic asked.
“Why would you ask that?” Adam said, sinking back into the cushions. “Of course not.”
“Then why haven’t I seen you?” Vic asked.
It had to be the magic. It couldn’t be real between them. Vic would forget about him. Adam would go home to Guthrie, back to the trailer park.
“I went somewhere,” Adam said. “It’s hard to explain.”
Vic’s brow furrowed. “Try.”
“There’s somebody I used to know,” Adam said.
“More than know,” Vic said. He jerked a thumb toward his heart. “I can feel you, remember?”
Adam nodded with a gulp. “There’s a lot to it.”
In the kitchen. The sound of sizzling oil flashed. Adam’s mom was humming, actually humming.
Vic said, “Start talking, Binder.”
Adam explained what he could about the spirit, the way it had possessed Annie, and the cop who’d shot Vic. He tensed during that point, and Adam felt the blue-black pulse of sorrow and grief through their connection. It got harder when Adam explained about Perak, about Silver. He didn’t, couldn’t, use many words, but when he glanced up to meet Vic’s gaze, he didn’t think he needed to.
He hadn’t known what he’d feel when he started explaining. The longer it went, the more he thought about the way Silver had been forced to abandon him. It mixed up everything, especially Adam’s feelings for Vic. Now Vic didn’t want him anymore. It churned in his gut. Adam felt tears start to gather.
“Come here,” Vic said, opening his arms.
Adam didn’t want to. He didn’t want to break, or cry, or to need to do either, but that unfaltering gaze reeled him in.
He paused, hesitant, not sure how strong Vic was yet.
“It’s all right,” Vic said. “Just be gentle.”
Adam moved into Vic’s embrace, stayed there while the cracks, pops, and meaty smoke of his mother’s cooking flavored the air.
“It’s going to be all right,” Vic said.
“How do you know?” Adam asked.
“Trust me,” Vic said. “I’m a cop.”
Adam met his eyes, expecting to melt in them, but what he found were skulls, small and white, floating in Vic’s gaze. Adam flinched.
“What?” Vic asked, blinking.
The skulls had vanished.
Adam couldn’t answer. He could use his Sight, try to see if they’d been his imagination or not. He knew they weren’t. He didn’t check.
“Nothing,” Adam said.
“Why you’d freak out?” Vic asked. “You’re the one with the gross eye.”
“Is it that bad?” Adam asked, reaching to cover it.
“It’s pretty bad,” Vic said. “Be glad your mom warned me.”
“Bobby says it will go away in about two weeks.”
“In the meantime, could you wear an eye patch?” Vic asked. “It’s going to be hard to eat with that next to me.”
Adam cocked his head at Vic and used his fingers to pull his eyelid open further.
“Okay, okay, parlay,” Vic said, waving him off. “I can see why Jesse likes you.”
“Jesse do
esn’t know me,” Adam said.
“Sure he does, I mean, a little,” Vic said. He nudged Adam. “By the way, he’s not going to shut up until you take your car to his shop.”
“I don’t have the money for that.”
“He doesn’t care about the money. He just wants to get under the hood.” Vic’s voice dropped lower when he asked, “Do it for me?”
“All right,” Adam said, yielding under that brown, skull-free gaze. Still, he stared, trying to find signs of the Reapers’ touch in Vic’s eyes.
Vic caught Adam focusing on him. Or he felt the concern. He leaned back, his sharp-featured, handsome face bending with a frown, and asked, “What’s happening to me?”
“I don’t know,” Adam said, taking Vic’s hands in his. Vic gripped him back. He felt so much stronger than he had been the last time Adam had seen him.
“It’s part of what you did to me, isn’t it?” Vic was starting to understand, starting to realize the implications. Adam didn’t jerk away, though he didn’t see this going anywhere good in the long-term. The magic would fade, and Vic would walk away, if Adam didn’t go home first.
“Yeah,” Adam said.
“You risked your life for me,” Vic said. He seemed bewildered.
“It wasn’t you,” Adam said. “I mean, I did it, but it wasn’t just you. I—”
“Would have done it for anyone?” Vic asked, pulling Adam closer.
God, he smelled good . . . solid, human. Adam inhaled, his nose pressed to the cloth of Vic’s shirt. Adam took a few breaths, thinking. He hadn’t known Vic, not really. It had been a cocky move, arrogant even. But he’d meant it. He couldn’t let a man die for what he’d done.
“Yeah,” Adam whispered into Vic’s shoulder.
Vic kissed the top of his head. “Good. You did good, the right thing, without any reason to. That makes you a hero.”
“I didn’t save Carl,” Adam said. Just saying his name aloud felt wrong. “I couldn’t—”
Vic added his other arm to his grip on Adam.
“We can’t always save everyone,” Vic murmured into Adam’s hair. “You have to remember that or it will eat you alive.”
“Boys,” Adam’s mother called from a safe distance. Adam wondered if she’d seen them embrace as they scrambled apart. Vic looked confused, but he seemed to pick up on Adam’s discomfort and straightened his shirt.
White Trash Warlock Page 19