by Eva Chase
We didn’t speak any more after that. She might have slept for a half hour or so as I drove on along the coast. The sun started to rise, streaking pale pink across the scattered clouds in the sky. Jemma shifted and undid her seatbelt as the city came into view up ahead.
“Drive carefully,” she said in a wry tone that said we were putting any previous tension behind us. “We’re cutting it close for that first flight. I’m going to get changed.”
She squeezed into the back and returned in slacks and a loose blouse that covered her bandages. I parked the van in the airport parking lot, and we grabbed our remaining bags from the back. At a kiosk, Jemma picked up the tickets she’d purchased via my phone and handed my boarding pass to me as we hustled toward security.
Just before we reached the line, she stiffened. “Shit, I almost forgot.” She turned to me and passed over a plastic bag from her purse. “I didn’t want to get rid of these until we were on our way. You know what to do with them.”
“Of course.”
She smiled up at me, briefly radiant despite her exhaustion. “I’ll see you in Paris later this afternoon.”
“Enjoy your flight,” I said with a crooked smile in return, avoiding the impulse to tell her to take care of herself as if she wouldn’t.
As well as she could. She rose up to kiss me steadily enough, and for the few seconds her lips lingered against mine, it was hard to feel anything but awed that this woman had decided to lower her guard so far for me. But I couldn’t miss the wobble she quickly controlled as she walked to the end of the line. I forced myself to turn away as if I had nothing but total confidence that she’d reach our distant meeting point in full health.
The bag contained several burner phones that Jemma had used for various purposes across our stay in Croatia. I ducked into a stall in the restroom and set about disassembling them and crushing the chips that held the information about who they’d been used to contact or what about.
One of the phones I recognized as the silver flip phone she’d texted the Londoners on a few times. I saved that for last. As I curled my fingers around its cool surface, the knot inside me tugged my ribs tight.
I didn’t like that Holmes, Watson, and Lestrade had earned some of Jemma’s respect in turn. I didn’t like that it obviously bothered her to put an end to whatever they’d had. My job was to look out for her, though, not wallow in my own petty feelings. I was important to her… and there was no denying that they’d become important too.
If they were loyal enough to deserve her affection, let them come and prove it. Making sure she made it through the next week alive was a hell of a lot more important to me than how pissed off I might make her.
Technically, she’d only told me not to talk about them, not to them.
I checked that the restroom was otherwise empty, pulled up the text history, and found Sherlock’s number. The line rang as I raised the phone to my ear. I’d rather not leave him with a visual record of this conversation—and I wanted him to know for sure the tip had come from a legitimate source.
He picked up on the third ring. “Jemma, what are you up to now?”
“This isn’t Jemma,” I said quietly. “It’s Moran. We’re leaving to take on even bigger monsters than you did last night.”
Sherlock’s tone turned more urgent. “Where are you going?”
“There’s an eclipse she needs to use. I’m sure if you care to be there, the three of you can figure out the rest.”
I ended the call and crushed that phone’s inner workings like I had the others. On my way out of the restroom, I tossed the bag in the garbage bin.
The pressure in my chest had released a little with those few sentences. Not the way I’d felt when I’d walked away from my father with my gun unfired. No, more like when I’d waved good-bye to Mike and Sara while they’d watched from our grandparents’ window.
I’d done the right thing by them then. Here was hoping I’d done the right thing by Jemma now.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jemma
“There’s one,” I said to Bash as we eased through the town marketplace. I gestured surreptitiously to a woman standing by a fruit stand.
He made note of her with a glance. “How can you tell?”
“They stand out in the sun for hours sometimes in meditation—there’s a specific pose. I can see it in her posture. The way she lifted her face toward the sky for a second.”
I veered away from the cultist toward a stall selling stuffed tomatoes. The smells of grilled meat and vegetables and a cacophony of spices tickled my nose. I’d have enjoyed it if it hadn’t been for the hints of the shrouded folk’s dryly rancid scent mingling with the local atmosphere. Some of the folk were prowling alongside their sycophants, invisible yet leaving a trace I could recognize.
The street ahead of us sloped slightly downward. I walked carefully, wary of my wobbly right leg, not wanting to draw any attention by falling. This place wasn’t exactly the best environment for someone who had enchanted jewelry gradually wearing away at her thigh.
The whole town sprawled across the side of a low mountain, turning into a patchwork of brightly colored buildings when viewed from above. We’d just come down from the open area along the mountain’s peak where I’d been scouting out the best spot to complete the bond-breaking ritual during the eclipse. The dagger was supposed to give me the powers of a shrouded one, and the shrouded folk liked to be close to the sky.
Since I wasn’t sure if this ritual was going to work at all, I figured I’d better increase the odds as much as I could. All I had to go on in my planning was what I’d observed of Bog when we’d made our pact, the part I’d had to play in it, and the fealty rituals I’d witnessed for the younger cult children.
It was going to be harder getting up to the mountaintop this evening with shrouded folk and their cultists prowling the place. I’d spotted a couple of men who’d rubbed my instincts the wrong way outside a church on our way back into town. Now, ducking past a shoe shop, I noticed another woman, this one swaying in a slight erratic rhythm for a second before she caught herself.
If I’d already seen four on our first real jaunt through town, how many more were wandering through here? The shrouded folk who’d been hanging around the commune might not have been able to see who’d stolen the dagger, but they’d know someone had and where a person could use it. And if even one of the cultists who’d gotten a glimpse at me had managed to pass on word to another settlement, all of them would know to look for a slim woman with bright red hair.
Which was why I’d picked up a wig on our rambling travels across the last week. I gave the dark strands a brief tug to confirm it was still secure after our hike, wishing I’d gone blond instead of black. The bright sun was turning my head into a sauna. At least it’d keep anyone from noticing me as long as I didn’t do anything eye-catching.
Bash leaned close to me as we left the marketplace behind for less crowded streets. “How do they know to look for you here? It’s a big country.”
“It is, but there’s only a narrow strip where the full eclipse will be visible. They’re probably watching for me all along that strip, but this is the only town completely centered along the path.”
“Are you sure we should do this here, then?”
My mouth tightened grimly. “I need civilization around to blend into as soon as I’m finished. Once I take off the cuff, even after my contract with the monster is severed, they’ll be able to sense me again, affect me again, with whatever power the cultists are giving them. On some lonely mountaintop, they’d break my body on the rocks, lickety split. But they’re very cautious about revealing themselves to the rest of human society. They’d sooner let me escape than put their magic on display right in the middle of all these people.”
Bash nodded, but his forehead was furrowed. I touched his arm, a simple gesture that felt weirdly intimate now that we’d started touching each other in a whole lot of other ways, but it was getting more normal with
each passing day.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” I said. “You can let me worry about the supernatural stuff. The cultists—they’re just regular humans who think they’re something special. You won’t have any trouble taking them on.”
“I’m not worried, Mori,” he said. “It’s those bastards who should be.”
I wished I felt as confident as he sounded. My leg was throbbing from the long walk, even worse today than yesterday, and too many factors drifted beyond my control.
I’d never known anyone who’d challenged the shrouded folk at all, let alone like this. I had no guidelines for the right approach. I was winging it, and I vastly preferred being prepared.
Especially when Bash’s life might very well be on the line as much as my soul was.
An icy jolt shot up from my thigh. I stumbled, and Bash caught me around the waist. He dipped his head toward mine at the same time to give the impression he was tugging me close for romantic reasons rather than to stop me from toppling over on the slanted street, in case any suspicious eyes were watching.
“Okay?” he murmured, a much more pleasant heat washing over me where his body pressed against mine.
“Just a minute.” I gritted my teeth, willing the pain back. The cuff had been acting up more and more in the week since we’d left Split, hitting me harder at least a few times a day and continuing to jab at me for minutes at a time instead of seconds. If the eclipse had been farther off, I’d have hung in there even if I’d had to crawl my way to the ritual spot. Thank God I didn’t have to find out just how bad it could get.
A dog trotted past us down the road—a stray with notched ears and patchy fur. My gaze followed it as it disappeared down a side street. Blood and anguish helped the shrouded folk transition their powers into this world. A creature like Bog would have delighted in having an animal as aware as a dog used in its honor.
My gut twisted, and not from the pain in my leg. It might have been effective to use one of the town’s many strays to boost the dagger’s magic, but I wasn’t going to give the shrouded folk the satisfaction of having turned me into a monster like them. There’d be blood and pain this evening, but it’d all be mine.
Bash’s thumb stroked up and down my side. The jagged ache the gold cuff had sent through me gradually retreated. I tested my leg, and we walked on.
We’d rented a second floor apartment in a little house with beaming yellow walls and a crimson roof. I’d paid for a month upfront on a one-year lease even though we’d only arrived here last night and didn’t plan on sticking around more than a day. Our enemies—and anyone else who might be trying to track our movements—wouldn’t be looking for apparently long-term renters.
Money couldn’t fix all one’s problems, but it certainly made tackling some of them easier.
We’d spent each night in a different city before arriving here just in time for the eclipse, even making a stop in Naples so Bash could get himself some one hundred percent authentic pizza—after which he’d informed me that he still liked the New York stuff the best. Through a truly valiant effort, I hadn’t rolled my eyes.
If the London trio had bothered trying to trace our movements, they’d have had a long trail to unravel. I didn’t think they’d make it very far. How far would they really want to chase me at this point?
Before, they’d been confused and uneasy about who I was and why I’d roped them into the heist. Now, they pretty much had their answers. They had the commune to finish dealing with and cases back home in London waiting for them. Our paths might cross if mine took me back to the UK, but I wasn’t posing any threat to them at the moment.
Even thinking that, though, I couldn’t help scanning the street before we stepped into the house, not just for any cultish figures but for a familiar tall lanky form, head of golden hair, or boyishly handsome face. Even though we had technically been enemies most of the time I’d known them, I’d worked with the three of them more closely than anyone other than Bash. I’d told them things I’d never told anyone other than Bash.
Maybe I was just a little uneasy knowing they were roaming around out there in the world with that knowledge, outside my control. Yes, the pinch in my chest couldn’t be more than that.
Bash kept his arm around me as we climbed up the stairs. I stepped away from him once we reached our apartment, but only to walk as far as the bedroom. I flopped down on the light duvet with a sigh as the tension in my thigh eased.
Bash sat down on the end of the bed beside me. He rested his hand gently on my knee, bare where my tourist-y sundress had ridden up a little. “Would a massage help?”
The dip of his voice promised attentions even more enjoyable than just a massage. Desire sparked low in my belly, but I didn’t want him seeing my upper leg right now. The flesh around the cuff had become almost completely translucent. I could easily see the outline of my femur through it. I felt nauseated looking at myself like that—not really the reaction I wanted to provoke in my right-hand man turned lover.
“I think it’s better just to leave it alone,” I said, and sat up to take his hand in mine. I hesitated before tipping my head against his shoulder. So many tiny gestures of affection I’d only ever used as a ploy before.
“Are you ready for tonight?” he asked.
“As much as I can be. It’ll mostly be a matter of getting to that spot on the mountain. The cultists are going to be on the alert when it gets close to eclipse time. And they can probably guess I’d head for higher ground.”
“I’ll have your back all the way there.” Bash lifted his chin toward the bag in the corner that held a rifle, a couple pistols, and plenty of ammunition. “Anyone comes at you, I’ll take them down.”
Until the shrouded folk realize what you’re doing and take you down, I thought, my chest clenching. Bullets couldn’t hurt those misty fiends.
The shrouded folk would have encouraged their followers to feed their power with everything they could. If their rulers had decided I was fair game for a hunt, then anyone helping me would be too.
“I don’t want you sacrificing yourself,” I said. “If the odds go against us, you get out of there. If I’m dead, I’m dead anyway, so there’s no point in you dying too in the process.”
“Mori.” Bash touched my jaw and turned my face so he could meet my gaze. “There’s no way in hell I’m bailing on you. What kind of asshole would I be if I took off to save my own hide while I might still make a difference? We’re breaking this thing’s claim on you together. And then you know I’m ready to go tear all the rest of those monsters apart for you.”
I couldn’t help smiling at his vehemence. “I’m going to tear them apart,” I corrected him. “But I’ll let you help.”
The corner of his lips curled up. “Then I’ll be there, by my faith and honor.”
I poked his chest. “And then you can take up your true calling as a Shakespearean actor.”
Bash laughed and tugged me closer. We’d explored the uncertain space between us enough that he felt comfortable going straight for a kiss. I kissed him back, letting the heat of his mouth wash away any lingering pain.
That kiss bled into another and another, until all I could smell was his perfect musky scent, until all I could feel was that heat and the flex of his muscular shoulders beneath my roaming hands. He was a perfect pocket of someplace else in the middle of the horrors both behind and ahead of me.
Longing unfurled from my core up through my chest. It hadn’t exactly been easy moderating my interludes with Bash over the last week, despite my best intentions. We’d reached the point of getting each other off with a well-placed hand. All that hesitation felt a little silly now.
Since I’d met him, I’d never been closer to dying than I would be tonight. I knew I wasn’t seducing him into staying or fulfilling some other selfish need. I just wanted him. I wanted the thrill of his cock inside me, the total release and the sensation of him following me over that edge.
I wanted to have sex with th
is man clear-headed and open-eyed, for no reason other than because of how much we’d both enjoy it, and this might be my last chance.
I shifted around to settle myself on his lap. Bash scooted back on the bed, one hand coming to rest on my side to steady me. I kissed him again and again as he eased down the flexible straps of my dress.
When he slid his hand beneath the fabric to cup my breast, I made an encouraging sound. My teeth grazed his lower lip, and he pressed his other hand to my back, kissing me harder.
As his thumb flicked over my nipple with increasing pressure, our tongues tangled between our mouths. I rocked against his growing erection, and he groaned. My hands found the bottom hem of his shirt and yanked it up. While I peeled it off of him, he yanked the bodice of my dress all the way down and tossed my bra aside.
For a second, as he palmed both my breasts, I could only gasp. I tilted forward, my lips brushing his cheek.
“I think we’ve done enough waiting.”
He gave a ragged laugh and kissed me before saying, “I couldn’t agree more, Majesty.” He teased his hands down my torso and back to my breasts, studying my expression. “I don’t want to hurt your leg even more than it already is. Is this a good position?”
“Mmm, I think this works just fine.” I sank so my core grazed his cock. With him sitting up, supporting part of my weight, I didn’t have to flex my thigh too much, and I could keep the skirt of my dress pooled over the unnerving section of flesh around the cuff. Having him on top of me could quickly turn from ooooh to ouch! “Let’s stay right here.”
I reached for the fly of his jeans, but he caught my hand and eased me back so he could bring his mouth to my breast. His tongue swiped over the already taut nipple, and a little growl escaped me. My hips rocked impatiently, but his mouth felt so good I couldn’t bear to tell him to stop.
Bash took his time, working over one side to send a rush of pleasure through my chest, and then repeating his attentions on the other. My fingernails dug into his shoulders. Need pulsed between my legs. When he finally raised his head, I yanked his mouth back to my lips and jerked open his jeans at the same time.
