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Casting Souls

Page 7

by Becca Andre


  Solon stared at him for several seconds. “Are you serious? We knew you could slow it, but reverse it…”

  Grayson nodded. “But what if it only works on me?”

  “And don’t forget,” Briar spoke up, annoyed that he had shared this information with Solon. “You had to absorb someone’s humanity—kill him—to make it happen.”

  “I suppose this is a problem for you.” Solon glared at her. “Spare me your righteous defense of the human. There are many who don’t deserve the life they were given.”

  “And I suppose you do.”

  “I said nothing about me.”

  She sighed and turned away, looking up at the moon overhead. “I too have reversed Grayson’s devolvement—in a more minor way. Or we inadvertently worked together to achieve it.” She hoped he didn’t ask for details. “But it was something of an accident. We haven’t been able to repeat it.”

  “Then you must try again. Repeat the process, and pay more attention.”

  She kept her back to the others, grateful for the darkness that hid her blush. “The point is, there is a way to do this. If I can just puzzle out what I’m doing then direct it at another—if that’s possible.”

  “So, what are you telling me? You need more time? How difficult can it be? Especially since you’ve already proven that the legend is true.” There was a thread of excitement in his matter-of-fact delivery. “The two of you will return with me. I will take care of this chimera and whoever sent it, while you two work on this.”

  Briar opened her mouth to protest, but Grayson spoke first.

  “We’re sitting ducks here. The person with the chimera isn’t the only one who knows we are here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Grayson went on to tell him about Liam and his gathering of Scourge. By the time he finished, Solon was pacing.

  “This is no good,” Grayson said. “We’ve already run out of time, and Briar and I haven’t discovered the answer.”

  “Which is why you will remain at the house and work on this problem while I attend to our other troubles.”

  “What house?” Briar demanded.

  “Your cousin’s.” Solon turned in the direction Andrew and Tristan had gone. “Come.”

  “My lady,” Perseus spoke up. “I’m not comfortable with this. Especially not with a chimera on the loose.”

  Solon turned, giving Perseus a frown.

  “You go on,” Briar said to Solon. “I have a boat to secure and a crew to inform. Not to mention, none of us have slept this night.”

  A muscle flexed in Solon’s jaw. “It is nothing but delays with you.”

  “I’m not going to be worth much without any sleep.”

  Solon regarded her for one long moment in silence. “I will send a carriage for you and Drake at noon, and only you and Drake. Do not make me come looking for you.” He didn’t wait for a response before walking away.

  Briar looked up to see Grayson frowning after him. “At least you won’t have to sleep in the weeds.”

  “True.” He sounded more annoyed than pleased.

  “You’re just going to go along with it?” Kali demanded.

  “We don’t have much choice,” Grayson grumbled.

  “I don’t like this,” Perseus said.

  Briar sighed. “Neither do I.”

  Breakfast wasn’t served until after ten that morning—not that Briar was complaining. She was grateful for the four hours of sleep she’d managed to get. Unfortunately, it had been a fitful sleep. No surprise, considering all the problems she faced. It didn’t help that Solon was forcing her to come stay with him. And she wasn’t the only one upset about that.

  “I don’t want you anywhere near that ferromancer or his soulless sidekick,” Eli grumbled. They stood in the aft cargo hold, and with the exception of Perseus and Kali, who were busy organizing their things, they had the space to themselves.

  “I don’t care if the son is an innocent.”

  She sighed, the minimal sleep and constant conflict was starting to wear on her. “I don’t have a choice. You can argue all you like, but it won’t change anything.”

  “You’re a long way from the boat. What if you run into some trouble?”

  She was glad Grayson was still in the aft cabin gathering his things.

  “Solon doesn’t wish to do me harm. No ferromancer does. Any harm will come from an outside source, and the ferromancers I’m with will have the best chance of defeating that.”

  “You’ll have Perseus here, and me.”

  “Trust me, I would stay if I could. Please don’t make this harder.”

  “What am I to tell Miss Molly when she asks where you’re staying?”

  “Tell her the truth. She’s plenty strong enough to handle it.”

  As if the comment had summoned her, Molly stepped out of the cabin, followed by Grayson. He carried Briar’s travel trunk and a carpet bag containing his own things.

  Molly handed Briar her fiddle case. “I would wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

  “I would never turn down luck.” Briar exchanged a hug with her. “Keep an eye on Eli and the crew for me?”

  Molly chuckled. “Of course, and you take care of Mr. Martel.”

  “Always.” Briar pulled back to look Molly in the eye. “I’ll be staying in your old house.” Out of the corner of her eye, Briar saw Eli cringe.

  “So Mr. Rose hasn’t sold it?” Molly asked, her tone calm and matter-of-fact.

  “Not yet.”

  Molly nodded. “Track up the carpets and disarrange the drapery for me?”

  Briar laughed. “Absolutely.”

  Eli stepped closer, his expression still uncertain.

  “What do you two have planned?” Briar asked, watching Grayson set their things on the dock at the foot of the gangplank.

  “Mr. Waller is going to introduce me to his sister,” Molly answered.

  “Oh?” Briar directed the question at Eli, unable to bite back her smile.

  “I wanted to check in on Abigail and the boys,” Eli explained. “Especially with that chimera thing on the loose.”

  Briar nodded. “Of course.”

  “If you’re ready, Miss Molly?” Eli studied the dock, his expression concerned.

  Briar might have been amused, thinking him nervous about presenting Molly to his family, when it occurred to her that Solon would be sending a carriage. Eli wouldn’t want Molly subjected to Andrew’s presence—and since Andrew had become Solon’s personal servant, he would no doubt be in attendance.

  “I’m ready,” Molly answered Eli, though she turned to Briar, looking worried. “Take care.” She gave Briar a hug.

  “You’ll do fine,” Briar whispered against her ear.

  Molly squeezed her tighter. “So will you.” She released her, then followed Eli across the gangplank. A quick word to Grayson, then she took the arm Eli offered her, and the pair walked away.

  Briar was about to cross the gangplank to join Grayson when Zach and Benji climbed down from the stable deck.

  “Where are you two going?” she asked.

  “I wanted to stop in at our cousin’s place to make sure all is well,” Zach answered.

  “I assume you’re not going to walk up and ask if they’ve been attacked by a metal monster,” Briar teased.

  “I’ll try to be a little more discreet.” Zach smiled.

  “What are you going to tell them about your voice?”

  Zach hesitated, a faint smile still on his face. “You know. I haven’t thought about that.”

  Benji gave his brother an amused glance before crossing the gangplank to join Grayson.

  “It’s not just your cousin,” Briar pointed out. “We have a lot of friends in town.”

  Zach frowned. “I don’t want to pretend
to still be mute. That would be the same as giving up this gift.”

  “Gift?” Briar asked. “You mean the fact that you can speak?” Not the magical gift he’d received along with it. “You see it that way? Now?”

  “I’ve always seen it that way.”

  “But you were angry with Grayson when you found out how it worked.” That Grayson had converted his damaged voice box to soul iron, absorbing a tiny piece of Zach’s soul in the process.

  “I was angry that he wasn’t honest with me. I’m grateful he gave me back my voice, and my life.”

  She smiled. “Good. It makes me feel so much better to hear that.”

  “I hope the concern hasn’t plagued you. I thought you understood.”

  “I suspected. But to hear you say it is still a relief.” She glanced over at Benji who was talking with Grayson, no doubt discussing when they could get together to work on those fishing lures.

  A carriage rolled to a stop on the street bordering the dock. Briar sighed when she saw who was at the reins.

  “Huh.” Zach followed her gaze. “He really is just a servant.”

  “Yes.” She watched Andrew climb down from the driver’s seat. He lowered the step, then hurried over to where Grayson stood waiting. A respectful greeting—or more accurately, a groveling—before Andrew picked up their luggage and hauled it to the carriage.

  “Unreal,” Zach muttered.

  “It is,” she agreed. “He becomes less like the man I knew every time I see him. I don’t know if it’s a byproduct of being soulless, or if Solon continues to take more from him.” A chill crawled up her spine at the notion.

  Andrew secured the luggage, then opened the carriage door. She thought he might be waiting on them, but then Tristan climbed out.

  She tensed, expecting Solon to follow, but no one else left the carriage.

  “And that is?” Zach prompted as Tristan stopped beside Grayson and Benji.

  “Solon’s son, Tristan. He seems like a good kid. Nothing like his father.”

  “That’s good to know,” Zach said, walking across the gangplank toward the trio gathered at the far end.

  Briar hurried after him, arriving just as Benji pulled out one of his fishing lures and presented it to Tristan.

  “And the fish really think it’s a minnow?” Tristan asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Benji reassured him.

  His forwardness surprised Briar. Until very recently, Ben had always been a rather shy kid. But that shyness had often been directed at adults. Maybe that wasn’t the case with kids his own age. If she remembered right, Tristan was only a year or so older than he was.

  “I could show you.” Benji gestured toward the boat.

  “But not now,” Briar cut in. “We’re expected, and I don’t want to get Tristan in trouble.”

  She thought Tristan might protest, but he relented immediately. “You’re right. I was to come straight back.”

  “Maybe we could go fishing another time,” Benji suggested.

  Tristan immediately perked up. “I’ve never been fishing.”

  Benji stared at him in shock. “Never?”

  Zach cleared his throat. “We need to let them go, Ben.”

  Benji agreed, promising to take Tristan another time, then headed off to town with Zach.

  Grayson watched the pair walk away. He looked pleased by Benji’s easy acceptance of Tristan. Briar suspected that was a rare occurrence in his experience. Ferromancers were more often feared by humans, not invited on fishing trips. She was about to speak when Perseus and Kali left the boat, their packs over their shoulders.

  “Going somewhere?” Briar asked.

  “We’re going to seek out lodgings,” Perseus answered.

  “You’re welcome to stay on the boat. Zach and Benji will probably be back, and, I assume, Molly, too.”

  “Thanks, but I want an actual bed,” Kali said. “And a hot bath.”

  Briar smiled. “I understand.”

  “We have your cousin’s address,” Perseus said. “We’ll check in at the boat often.” He glanced between the two of them. “Take care of each other.”

  “No harm will befall her,” Grayson said solemnly.

  Kali smirked and shook her head. Yeah, she knew all about overprotective men.

  Bidding them farewell, Briar and Grayson followed Tristan to the carriage. Ignoring Andrew, who frowned at her while greeting Grayson warmly, they climbed inside.

  Briar dropped to a seat beside Grayson, leaving Tristan the bench opposite them.

  “You really do design things by mundane means?” Tristan asked Grayson as the carriage lunged into motion.

  “It’s something of a hobby,” Grayson answered.

  “Don’t let him fool you,” Briar spoke up. “He’s a brilliant inventor.”

  “Like Tesla or Edison?” Tristan asked, awe in his tone.

  “Better,” Briar answered.

  “That’s hardly a fair comparison,” Grayson said, turning back to Tristan. “They can’t sense what we do.”

  Tristan’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly,” Briar said. “He thinks that being a ferromancer gives him an advantage, but it really doesn’t—aside from cheating on the construction. He’s brilliant, Tristan.”

  “You’re embarrassing me,” Grayson complained.

  “You should see him repair pocket watches,” Briar continued, ignoring Grayson’s complaint. “He has these tweezers and tiny screwdrivers. No ferromancy involved—unless he needs to fashion a replacement part.”

  “Really?” Tristan looked impressed. “I tried to take a watch apart once. Even with ferromancy, I couldn’t figure out how to put it back together.”

  “There is a skill to it,” Grayson admitted. “And I studied under a master watchmaker for years.”

  “You did?” Tristan looked shocked. His reaction to all of this surprised Briar. Had Solon kept him isolated, or did Solon not approve of Tristan studying something so mundane?

  The carriage came to a stop, and Briar glanced out the window. Andrew’s house sat on a slight rise above the curb, looking no different from when she’d last seen it.

  “It’s a much shorter trip than when you walk it,” Briar commented, needing to say something.

  Grayson reached over and took her hand. I was serious about what I told Perseus. I won’t let Solon, or any of them, harm you.

  It’s not me I’m worried about. After all, Grayson’s brethren expected him to sacrifice himself to save them.

  The step thumped into place, and a moment later, the door opened.

  Grayson encouraged Tristan to climb out first before turning to her. “Solon will want you to play for him.”

  “I really don’t want to bare my soul to him.”

  “You have a beautiful soul, and he will see the honesty of your intentions. Then maybe he’ll back off with the threats.”

  “I guess that’s one way to look at it.” She glanced down at her fiddle case resting across her knees.

  Grayson’s warm fingers brushed her chin and turned her face toward him. Without a word, he leaned down and kissed her.

  She opened up to him, relishing the intimacy after being distant with him for days. He did the same, and they were awash in each other’s emotions in an instant. Briar didn’t think she would ever be able to enjoy another relationship after this. It was Grayson or no one.

  I feel the same, he shared, catching the essence of her meaning.

  A throat cleared from outside the carriage. “Mr. Martel?” Andrew called. “We have arrived.”

  “If you decide to end your cousin,” Grayson whispered, “I want the honor.”

  “I suspect you’ll have to get in line.”

  Briar ran her fingers along the strings, struggling to open herself to the musi
c and truly let go. Solon sat stiffly in an upholstered chair, the silver digits of his metal hand tapping one arm.

  “You play well,” he conceded, “but I feel nothing of a magical nature.”

  Grayson leaned against the wall beside window, quietly watching. It was just the three of them in the parlor. Solon had sent Andrew on some errand, while Tristan attended his studies upstairs. She didn’t know if it was something ferromantic, or a more mundane lesson, but the young man seemed disappointed to be excluded. She found herself really liking him. Hard to believe he was Solon and Esme’s son.

  Grayson pushed off the wall and walked over to her. Wordlessly, he stepped around behind her as she continued to play and leaned down to whisper in her ear, opposite the fiddle.

  “You can do this. Share with him.” Show the bastard your power.

  She smiled at the emotion that came through with the words. He wasn’t fond of Solon, though she also sensed a begrudging respect for all the man had done in an attempt to save their race.

  “I asked for a demonstration of her power,” Solon said. “I have no interest in sitting here, watching the two of you whisper and giggle.”

  Briar slashed the bow across the strings, directing a harsh melody at Solon.

  He came to his feet with a gasp. “What the hell was that?”

  “A reprimand,” Grayson answered for her.

  Solon’s eyes narrowed, but she ignored him, focusing on the song she hadn’t stopped playing. Might as well get this over with.

  Steeling her resolve, she reached out to Solon. He gasped again, but she didn’t give him a chance to comment. Lowering her barriers, she showed him her desire to save his kind and her frustration at her failed attempts.

  That’s it. Grayson reassured her. Let him see who you truly are.

  The bow danced across the strings, and Solon now stared at her, his jaw dropping in surprise.

  When she felt she had shown him enough, she finished the tune and took the fiddle from her chin. The silence in the parlor was shockingly loud.

  Solon walked over to them, his gaze holding hers. “You truly are a soul singer.”

  Grayson stepped up beside her. He positioned his shoulder a little in front of hers, as if to shelter her from Solon’s interested gaze. She found the gesture both endearing and annoying.

 

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