by Everly Frost
She shrugs. “I find it difficult to hide my thoughts around you.”
“Well, at least it’s fair.”
She says, “You… I never expected…”
I smile. “What? To meet someone who fights like you?”
She says, “You’re cleaning up the underground.”
I fold my hands in my lap. “Mom had a reason for protecting Patrick Ryan, but now that reason is gone. So… yeah… I’m chewing on its bones and spitting them out again.”
Slade returns with the Keres ring safely tucked into Mom’s glass case. The first time I saw this ring, it was an object of horror. I hope something good can come of it now.
Slade opens the case and offers it to Archer. “Hunter and I can’t touch it without burning ourselves. Other than Cain’s ring, there is only one other Keres ring, so you should avoid coming into contact with other assassin’s rings altogether.”
She asks, “Where is the other one?”
He says, “In my bag.”
I sit up with a start. “You brought the training ring with you?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t want to leave it in the Realm in case Amalia broke in again.”
Archer reaches for the ring in the case. “Cain’s magic didn’t hurt me. In fact, it helped me when my wings were burning. But this one…” Her hand hovers over it. “It feels different.”
“Don’t touch it if it hurts you. Mom couldn’t go near assassin’s rings. They made her feel ill. I wasn’t as badly affected, but I couldn’t wait to take mine off. That’s why I wear a glass ring.”
Archer plucks the ring from the case and slides it around the forefinger of her left hand. The magic in it takes hold and the ring resizes itself to fit her finger. She purses her lips for a moment, waiting to see what will happen.
Then she smiles. “It feels… calm. May I see the other one?”
Slade brings his bag to her, withdrawing the training ring contained safely in a small leather box.
She turns it around in her fingertips. “I could wear this one too, but I think it might be put to better use.” Her features set in hard lines. “Amalia threatened to take your soul, didn’t she?”
Slade stiffens but nods. “She has to be within eyesight to do it. She can’t take my soul from far away. But she can do it.”
Archer’s expression is dark. “I’ve seen it happen. I held Cain’s soul in my hand after she ripped it from his body. I won’t let that happen to you.”
She places the training ring in the box and passes it back to him. “I want you to use that ring against her.”
He asks, “But how? I can’t touch it.”
She smiles at him. “You’re a ringmaker. The ringmakers turned feathers into rings. I don’t know how they did it, but I’m giving you permission to turn this ring… into a bullet.”
Her eyes meet Slade’s. “A bullet for Amalia’s heart.”
Chapter Eighteen
Slade stares at the ring. “I wasn’t trained as a ringmaker.” He gives me a worried look. “I’ll have to take the ring to my parents. I haven’t spoken to them in a long time.”
I touch his arm. “I’ll come with you. You’ll need backup.”
He gives me a nod. “It’s time for them to answer my questions about my family’s history.”
Tansy says, “While you’re gone, Archer and I can start packing. From now on, I will go where Archer goes—in case she needs me.”
Tansy gives me a hard stare. So that’s her trump card. If Archer gets hurt, Tansy needs to be there. Which means I can’t tell Tansy to stay behind. As much as I want to protect Tansy, we’re about to head into Vlad’s territory. Maybe her determination to help isn’t her only motive for coming with us.
I test my theory, saying, “Vlad will be happy to see you.”
Tansy flushes.
Bingo. Well, as far as I’m concerned, that’s the best reason for her to come with us.
I’m on edge from the moment Slade and I leave Saber Lane. A lot has happened already today and I don’t know what to expect from his parents.
Slade and I blur and take to the night sky, both wearing protective suits this time. The Keres training ring rests in the glass case in a satchel secured to my waist. Slade’s blur is so complete that it’s nearly impossible for me to detect his presence, but we decide that is best so we can remain safe.
I land at the back of his parents’ home in the same back yard that I saw in Slade’s memories: a large, well-kept lawn with a high wooden fence to keep out prying eyes. As soon as I materialize, light floods the yard. I must have triggered a sensor light, but I don’t see anyone around. I hurry to wait in the shadows at the corner of the building.
Tucking away my wings, I lean around the corner to check whether Slade has landed…
I lean straight into a fist.
The woman at the end of it doesn’t give me time to speak. I jolt backward as she follows up with a kick to my side, her foot a blur. I don’t have time to identify her and the backyard light doesn’t extend around this part of the house. All I can do is duck when she spins and tries to land another kick at my face. I rise before her foot finds the ground so I can deflect the blow and shove her off balance. She wobbles backward onto the open lawn, fully into the light.
I recognize her from Slade’s memory: dark brown hair and pale blue eyes, rimmed in black like his.
I immediately ease up, dancing out of her reach. I don’t want to hurt his mom.
She snarls, “Valkyrie! What do you want?”
Surprise is a hot dagger through me. “How do you know what I am?”
“I knew as soon as I touched you. Tell me why you’re here before I end you.”
At the same time as she speaks, my shoulders tingle. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, like fingernails scraping down my back. Is she doing it? I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off and focus on the problem at hand: convincing this woman I’m not here to kill her.
I opt for the closest truth I can. “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you. Slade is with me.”
Her eyebrows rise as she registers what I said, but she stands her ground while she glances around the yard. Again, my shoulders prickle, an itchy sensation that makes me twitch.
An indent on the grass tells me that Slade has landed. He materializes without his wings, a wise move since we could be seen. Fighting his mom out in the open is bad enough but at least she and I were mostly under the cover of shadows during the fighting part.
Slade is a tower of strength as he strides toward us, each step purposeful. Even though his focus is on his mother, the flicker of his gaze toward me tells me he sees the way I’m holding my fists.
His mom twists her head toward him—a deceptive move, because at the same time she lets fly another punch in an attempt to smack me on the chin.
I evade the blow, narrowing my eyes at her.
That extra hit was completely unnecessary. She’s definitely making it hard for me to like her.
I remain on guard while she takes rapid steps away from me, glancing between Slade and me, her expression turning to dismay. I guess she thought I was lying.
“Slade, why is this creature with you?”
His jaw clenches. He comes to a standstill several paces from her. “I know I’m a ringmaker, Mom. I know why Foster died and who killed him.”
The blood drains from her face. She stumbles away from him so fast that she bumps up against the side of the back porch, the impact juddering through her. She is suddenly beyond pale. “If you know that her kind killed him, why have you brought her to my home?”
Slade’s assertion is heartfelt. “Hunter is not our enemy. We can’t change the past, but we can change the future. Right now, we need your help.”
His mother plants one palm against the building at her back to steady herself before she draws a deep, shuddering breath. “Then you should come inside.”
She whirls and stumbles up the stairs, regaining her poise by the time she opens the back door to le
t us in.
Slade’s steely-eyed expression hasn’t softened for one second, not even when he spoke to her.
Despite my instinctive dislike of her, I catch his arm before he follows after her. “Don’t forget, she’s your mom.”
His gaze softens when he looks at me, but hardens just as quickly. “Her name is Melinda. She is cunning and tough—and always ends up getting what she wants. Don’t let down your guard.”
Inside, the house is exactly like Slade’s memory, right down to the floral dish towels and the drawings stuck to the front of the refrigerator. The scent of apple pie rushes into my head the moment I step inside. It’s the perfect picture of a family kitchen, right down to the freshly prepared food.
Without speaking, Melinda stalks to the oven, pulls out the pie, and busies herself preparing plates and making coffee. I position myself on the left of the dining table in a clear space so I can move if I need to. Slade remains close to me but also with enough space around himself to deal with anything that might come his way.
My heart bleeds that he feels he can’t trust his mom.
Without turning, she says, “You’re Master of the Legion now, Slade.”
“That’s correct.”
Her voice is crisp. “You know I don’t approve of that life.”
Slade’s tone remains matter of fact. “We’ve had this conversation, Mom. It’s time for a new one. Tell me about Grandma Baines.”
She stiffens, her hands resting out of sight inside the sink, supposedly washing a spoon. I study the way she holds her head and the tension in her shoulders. I should have asked Slade for more details about his relationship with his mom. Slade said his parents tried to make him normal, that they wouldn’t answer his questions about Foster’s death. I always assumed they were trying to protect him like my mother tried to protect me. Now that I’ve seen Melinda in action… I’m not so sure.
“Or better yet,” Slade says, “tell me about Josiah, the man who massacred the Valkyrie. And put down the knife while you’re at it.”
A clatter inside the sink tells me she dropped a utensil. She turns to us, sweeping up a dish towel to dry her hands. “Josiah Baines wore the same ring that you wear now. A ring made from the feather of the Valkyrie Queen.”
Her gaze flicks to me and again I sense the same disconcerting tingle in my shoulders.
“He created the three Realms and wrote the Assassin’s Code. Until that time, assassins were mercenaries, without masters. In return for their loyalty, he gave them rings. He gave them strength and power.”
“And the ringmakers?” Slade asks. “What about them?”
“Josiah Baines was the first ringmaker. He gathered a group of his most trusted followers to share his power, but only his descendants inherited his true power. Some of his descendants became assassins like Grandma Baines. Others hunted the remaining Valkyrie and Keres to extinction to create more rings—five hundred over time.”
She squares her shoulders. “In case you’re wondering, I am the ringmaker, not your father. I married him because he had nothing to do with that life. A baker. Although he knows all about it of course.”
Slade curls his fingers around the top of the nearest wooden chair, choosing to remain standing. “Josiah was just a man. How did he have the power to imprison the Keres and Valkyrie?”
“He sold his soul to a sorceress in exchange for…” Her gaze flicks to me again. It’s the thousandth time she’s done that and it’s starting to get a bit too intense for my liking.
She suddenly fixates on me. “I can smell your feathers.”
I frown at her. “What?”
Slade frowns at her too, quickly shifting to stand between her and me, a move that forces his mother to focus on him again. “What did Josiah get in exchange for his soul, Mom?”
“Unnatural strength… and power over metal.” She side-steps, sliding against the sink so that she can see me again. “All ringmakers are drawn to metal that carries magic.”
She inclines her head back at the sink. “I can manipulate that knife into any shape I choose, make it do anything I like, but add magic into the mix and it’s intoxicating.”
Slade shifts to block me again and I have no problem letting him. His tone remains calm as he says, “That’s why Foster died, isn’t it? He couldn’t stay away from that Valkyrie.”
“I thought she was the last but it looks like I was wrong.” Melinda shakes herself but her pupils dilate as she cranes her head to see me. “Not every descendant of Josiah is born a natural ringmaker. My sister wasn’t. Your cousin Thomas wasn’t. I, on the other hand, had two sons both born with the power and the… impossible pull…”
Her hands suddenly shake. She clenches them together, rubbing her fingers. “Slade, I don’t know how you’re resisting your impulses, but you really should take her away before I…”
A force plucks at my back like invisible fingers. What was only a tingle before is now an intense pull. I gasp and jolt to the side, my back suddenly burning but not in the way I’m used to when I call my power. This burn is like my wings being grabbed from the inside and forcibly wrenched out. My feathers grate against my ribs inside my back, forming far too fast.
I wince and fight it, clenching my jaw, bracing against the force. “Slade!”
He swivels from his mother to me. Then back again. “What are you doing?”
Melinda’s pupils are dilated, the blue taken over by darkness in the same way that silver floods Slade’s eyes. She remains focused on me, her body locked in a concentrated trance. “I want to see her wings. Her feathers call to me…”
I cry out as my feathers scrape me from the inside, a painful burst. They’re going to rush out of me fully formed. If I fight it, they’ll tear me up from the inside just like Archer’s feathers did to her…
“Stop!” Slade leaps the table and slams into Melinda, his fist glancing off her jaw.
It is a blow that would have knocked anyone else out but she barely flinches. She hits back, making Slade dance out of her way. A knife rises from the sink behind her, slicing through the air toward him. He steps aside, avoiding the dagger, but in the next moment the kitchen drawers fly open. Knives, forks, and spoons rush out of them, a barrage of weapons flying straight at him.
He shouts, “Mom! Stop!”
With a flick of his hand, a transparent shield appears between Slade and the weapons—a partial Realm—filling the space from floor to ceiling. Like hailstones against it on the other side, dents appear on its surface where the implements clang into it. They quickly clatter to the floor. He flicks his hand again and the shield disappears.
His momentary distraction was all Melinda needed. Against my will, my wings spread, shooting out so fast that they rake across my skin. I let them release, knowing it’s the only way they will form without tearing me apart. The angle at which I’m standing means that one of my wings hits the kitchen table and the other crashes through the glass cabinet at the side of the room, breaking the pretty porcelain cups inside it.
My feathers shiver, my wings drawing forward while Melinda’s outstretched fingers curl up like claws.
She’s pulling them.
She is going to pull them out.
Chapter Nineteen
Anger pulses through me. I’ve already lost one feather. I won’t lose more. Not to this woman. I stop trying to pull away and stride forward instead, the force easing now that I’m moving in Melinda’s direction. Rather than leap over the table like Slade did, I shove it with all my strength, ramming it against her stomach.
She screams, suddenly pinned between the table and the sink.
I scale the table, adding my weight to it as she tries to push it away. I crouch on top of it and grab her throat.
Despite the threat I pose, her gaze remains on my wings. She reaches for them, leaning, grappling with the table in her quest to touch them.
Intoxicating? Far too much, it seems.
She is two seconds away from yanking the nearest fe
ather from my wing. I am seconds away from releasing my power.
Her neck smokes beneath my fingers.
My voice is dangerously low. “Stop or I will kill you.”
Slade lands on the table’s surface with a thud and a wash of silver light fills the air. His electric wings shoot across my vision, encircling me. I’m forced to let Melinda go as he swiftly pulls me away from his mom, dropping us to the floor.
The visual disturbance created by his wings acts like a shield between her and me.
She shakes her head, blinking rapidly. Her hands slowly lower. She stares in shock at Slade’s wings, her mouth gaping wide. “Slade… how? Even Josiah couldn’t give himself wings.”
Slade’s protective growl sounds close to my ears, his arms tight around me, his wings a cocoon through which the world around me shimmers.
He says, “I am Valkyrie now.”
Her pupils constrict. “That’s not possible.”
“It happened.” He pauses to demand one last answer. “Am I the last ringmaker?”
“Yes. The power will die with you.” She reaches for him, the darkness invading her eyes again. She shoves at the table so hard that it slides all the way across the room and hits the wall, cracking the plaster.
Her breathing is rapid, but also panicked. “I am what I am. Get out before I hurt you both!”
Slade draws me away from her, picking me up in his hurry, keeping his wing between her and me. Her hand rises and the force she was using to try to take my wings plucks at me again, weaker through the protection of Slade’s wings but still painful.
She shouts, “Don’t come back, Slade. Never come back.”
He races away with me, carrying me away from the kitchen that smells like cookies and cinnamon, away from his childhood drawings and his deadly mother.
His wings retract as soon as we shoot through the door. I force my own closed, swallowing a scream at the effort it takes. Damn her, she’s still plucking at them.
