by Lee French
Claire stared as Justin laid it all out. At the same time, panic roiled in her gut. He had her locket, and she feared he’d take it from her. Her hands shot up to grab the chain. Why did she wear it on something so thin and flimsy? It should have an unbreakable wire to keep it safe. “Daddy, you have to let me go.”
His hand curled around the locket in a fist. “Yes, you can go. But not this.” He yanked the chain hard enough to make her squeal, and the clasp broke.
She stumbled back as Justin surged forward. Unable to find her footing, she fell. Avery raised himself up on his hands and knees, glaring at Justin and swiping his hand through the air for a weapon. Darkness closed around her, and she wondered if she’d ever hit the ground.
Chapter 28
Justin
His heart stopped. Justin had only known Claire for a few days, but in that time, he’d already warmed to the idea of adding her to his family. Her own father’s corrupted Phasm had killed her, in front of him, and he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted that thing to die. Charging it sword-first, he focused on taking it down. Everything he felt would only get in the way right now.
The Phasm raised a sword of his own and metal clanged on metal as it sidestepped his rush. The Phasm’s blade had a fancy golden basket hilt, making it a copy—no, a mockery—of Mark’s real sword. This thing had just murdered the daughter of its own body, and now it dared to invoke Mark’s noble past.
In the name of justice, he could set aside grief for a brave, spunky girl he barely knew whose life deserved to be much, much longer. The Knights, on the other hand, had been a part of his life for years. He’d met dozens of honorable men who carried the banner, and strove to emulate them. He’d gotten help and advice when he needed it most, and hadn’t had enough time to repay Kurt for everything.
With a roar of rage, he flashed his blade through the air. Steel flashed and clanged as the Phasm met every blow. He drove it back, though, and kept it on the defensive. His anger fueled him past the point when he should have tired, keeping his arms quick and legs strong. He knew he had no hope of outlasting a being made of what could be called magic. As with Avery, he needed to let his opponent hit him. Tariel would call it a dumb idea, and she’d be right.
He gritted his teeth and lowered his guard. The Phasm stabbed him and, as Justin had hoped it would, left itself open to a counterattack. Before he could seize the opportunity, something slammed into Justin’s knee from behind and drove him to the ground. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw Avery, his face already healing over. The Phasm tossed Avery a sword, one different from Mark’s or Justin’s.
In a moment, carelessness had cost Justin this fight. He never should have assumed Avery would stay unconscious, and definitely should have tied his hands to something. If he somehow managed to survive, he’d never make that mistake again.
“I remember meeting you a few times, Justin.” The Phasm flicked its sword away and turned its attention to the locket dangling from its fingers. “You were brash and young. And stupid. It’s nice to see you haven’t changed.”
Avery held his sword against Justin’s neck. “Hand it over.” He pointed to the blade still in Justin’s grasp.
“What if I don’t?”
“Then your wife gets to become a widow.”
Justin gulped, thinking about the wringer that would put Marie through. The girls were so young that they’d manage. Marie, though, would be devastated. “And what if I do? I just want to have a clear picture of my options here. It’s always best to know the fine print before signing a contract.”
Avery snorted. “Oh, please. Do you expect me to believe you’d give up being a Knight? You’re practically their poster child for how everything can go right.”
The Phasm held up a hand. “Now, John, let’s not be hasty. There’s no reason to discount him. He could be a valuable ally. He’s certainly strong and capable, and he’s so young. You’re not going to live forever.”
Rolling his eyes, Avery pressed the blade tighter to Justin’s throat. “You can pledge your fealty to Mark.”
He’d hoped there would be an option other than death or outright betrayal. “How will you destroy the Palace if I pledge my fealty now?”
Mark laughed, and the stars overhead flared in time with it. “We have the locket. Avery can get into the Palace anytime he wants.” He tossed the necklace to Avery.
Avery’s sword went slack as he turned his attention to catching it. Grabbing a piece of the Palace out of the air should be easy, except for someone who’d repudiated it and bared his soul to a corrupted Phasm. Sparks of adrenaline shot through Justin’s body as he realized this would be his one and only chance. He put every ounce of effort he had into throwing his sword at Mark.
Surging to his feet, he forced Avery to choose between catching the locket and defending himself. The moment of hesitation and confusion allowed Justin to slam his fist into Avery’s jaw from below, knocking Avery unconscious again. Justin whirled and caught the locket without looking, in time to see Mark staring, dumbstruck, at the sword through his chest.
The Phasm might be able to recover. Justin leaped to his side, grabbed the sword, and slammed it in deeper. As he shifted his grip to rip it to the side, Claire whimpered. Both Knight and Phasm turned at the sound.
“You bound her?”
Mark blinked rapidly, fondness overcoming his features. “She’s my daughter. I couldn’t just kill her.”
“I’ll take care of her. I promise.” Justin tossed the locket, and it landed on Claire’s chest. She sucked in a deep breath.
“I know you will.”
Maybe a corrupted Phasm could atone or be cleansed, or whatever the right word should be. They’d never know, because Justin wouldn’t take the chance. He ripped the sword out and carved up Mark’s Phasm with a blade designed for the task. “Rest well, Mark.”
Chapter 29
Claire
Claire’s eyes opened in time to see Justin slice up the Phasm that had once been her father. It had no blood or guts. The body dissolved, and so did the night sky. She wrapped a hand around her locket as Justin scooped her up into his arms.
“This might hurt a little,” he said.
They fell. He landed on his feet in the closet and stumbled on office supplies, then crashed through the door. Through it all, he held her and kept her safe. He landed on his back in the hallway and groaned. She wound up still clutched in his arms and draped over his chest. His sword clattered to the floor, sliding a few feet away. Cops and clerks, startled by their sudden appearance, rushed toward them.
Avery groaned and flailed in a pathetic attempt to get to his feet.
“It’s Sir Lancelot.”
“He escaped earlier!”
“He’s got a weapon.”
“Hands where we can see them!”
All the voices scared Claire enough that she slid off Justin and hid behind him as he sat up.
Justin raised his hands in surrender. “This has all been a grand misunderstanding.” He turned to check on Avery, and so did Claire. She had no idea why Justin thought Avery would help them now, but if he did, then so did she. The guy had been knocked for a loop, though, probably by Justin’s fist, and wouldn’t be offering them any excuses anytime soon.
For the second time, she heard Justin mutter a swearword. He turned and whispered to her, “Claire, you should go. Tariel ought to still be here. I’ll…catch up.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Probably. Just fake a good cry and run for the stairs.”
She hadn’t faked a cry in a very long time and didn’t need to now. Being still for five seconds gave her enough time to think about everything that had happened with her father’s Phasm and how much she wished he could have been something special after death, instead of something awful. She did, however, have to fake noisy sobs as she scuttled away with tears in her eyes and ran for the door.
In the stairwell, she kept running, afraid someone would chase her down and
demand explanations. Bursting out on the ground floor, she fled straight to Tariel who still stood in the lobby despite several people trying to tempt her out with apples and other foods. The horse’s tail twitched and she shoved someone aside with her nose while stealing an apple.
Relief flooded her. Claire dodged between the people and threw herself at the horse as impatient and incredulous voices bombarded her with too many questions and demands. Somehow, between the horse rolling her shoulders and pushing with her head, Claire wound up on Tariel’s back and held on to her mane while the mare darted out of the police station.
Outside the glass doors, Tariel reared up and flashed her front hooves out, discouraging anyone from following her. She landed with a jarring thud on the sidewalk, then shot up the street.
“Justin’s coming!” At least, she hoped he was.
Chapter 30
Justin
Three cops hurried after Claire as she fled the closet. With all the people in the room, Justin knew the cops wouldn’t shoot unless they had a clear shot. However, they could probably catch Claire. He hopped to his feet and tripped one, then threw his body at another. The two of them slammed into the third. “I wish I could let you interfere, but I can’t.” He glanced back and saw Avery hadn’t recovered yet. With Mark’s influence gone, the detective would need to spend some time putting his head on straight. Pushing him now would only make Avery’s next few weeks harder.
Several voices wanted him to stop, shut up, and get down on his knees with his hands behind his head. He sighed and wished things could be simpler. Later, Avery could straighten all of this out. Or the guy might have lost his marbles, leading him to blow his brains out. Justin preferred the former, but it wouldn’t happen until Avery had a chance to collect his scattered wits.
A few years ago, it had taken Justin two weeks to learn to step on his sword, flip it into the air, and catch it. Every second he’d “wasted” on that ridiculous skill paid off now, when he stomped down and wound up with the hilt of the blade in his hand. The cops, even those with their guns out, stared, and he liked to think it had to do with how impressive his display had been. In reality, he suspected they wanted to avoid hitting their fellow officers who currently littered the floor around him in various stages of standing up.
He hopped to the side, slammed the blade into the wall and slashed down to make a quick hole. He cut another wall and rushed through it, then another, until he found the outer wall of the building. Gunshots followed him as he ran at the window and thrust his sword into the only thing left standing between himself and escape. Without slowing, he threw his body forward and shattered the glass.
Three floors from the ground, he had time to reflect on how much hitting the road would hurt as he sailed through the air surrounded by chunks of safety glass. He landed feet-first on a police car with a grunt, denting it and rolling off the side to hit the ground less gracefully. More gunshots made people on the streets scream and scatter, and he scrambled to his feet with a groan.
Pain shot up his right leg. “Any time, Tariel,” he muttered. “I could really use an exit right about now.”
“Drop the weapon and put your hands up!”
Glancing behind him, Justin saw an arm with a gun poking out of the window of the car he’d landed on. “Really? Now? And here I thought everything would be easier with Mark out of the picture. But no, it’s just getting worse. Thank you, Portland. You’re now officially my least favorite place ever.” He glared at the arm. “Pull that back in or I’ll chop it off before you can fire. I just cut a hole in a window with this sword. A couple of bones aren’t going to be a problem. I’m just trying to get home to my family, for heaven’s sake.”
The cop in the car gulped and his arm wavered. “Uh, no, you need to drop the sword.”
Knowing he’d regret it, he smacked the gun with his elbow and knocked it aside. It fired and he felt a sharp impact in his side that he’d have to heal whenever he could scrape a minute together to relax. For now, this fresh pain drowned out all the tiny cuts and less tiny bruises to sing a harmony of agony with his leg. The gun clattered to the street, and he spared a moment to kick it under the car. No random idiot on the street should be able to pick it up from there.
To his immense relief, Tariel rounded the nearest corner and pounded up the street to him with Claire on her back. He slashed his sword through the car’s front tire and hopped around to face her. When she reached him, he gritted his teeth and grabbed her mane. Her power swirled around him, guiding his foot to the stirrup and lifting him off the ground. He focused on not stabbing either her or Claire.
Landing on her saddle jarred every bone in his body, and he cried out from the pain. Claire reached back and groped a hand over him until she found a belt loop, then held on. Her well-intentioned effort jerked his body, grinding the bullet in his side against his ribs.
Before Tariel could reach full speed again, a crow dove at them from above and managed to scrape Claire’s scalp. She shrieked. Justin clenched his jaws together and curled around her. When it dove again, he used his head by smashing the side of his skull against the bird to stun it. The crow fell before he could catch it, and Tariel’s hooves trampled it.
“Get us out of here,” he growled.
The horse sped up, carrying them away from sirens, shouting, and screaming. Running like this took too much of Tariel’s power for him to heal before they stopped. At least she knew he needed it. Stupid cops had to take away his stupid armor. If he’d had it, that gunshot would’ve only grazed him and left a bruise. Instead, he now had to worry about bleeding to death.
As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything bad enough to justify the cops requesting help from Vancouver’s finest. That meant he only needed to keep a firm grip on consciousness until they crossed the state line. Every hoof hitting the street jarred him enough that he worried he might not last that long.
Chapter 31
Claire
Confused and terrified, Claire glanced back repeatedly to make sure Justin was still breathing. When they found him, he had a bloodstain spreading on his shirt and a wretched grimace on his face. Even with that, he still leaned over to protect her when that demented crow tried to rip her head off. One hand holding her head, the other firmly lodged in Justin’s belt loop, she tried to shoulder some of his weight.
To her horror, the hand wrapped in Tariel’s mane went slack and he bounced, then the two of them slid off Tariel’s back and hit the ground at high speed. She tumbled and rolled, scraping her hands, elbows, and knees on the asphalt. Winding up flat on her back, she stared at the puffy clouds skimming past. Darker ones loomed to the west, promising rain soon.
Screeching snapped her to the present and she groaned. Several feet away, Justin lay in the road, not moving. The noise had come from cars, braking hard to avoid hitting him. Thank goodness they’d seen him. Claire rolled to her hands and knees, which hurt, and forced herself to crawl to his side.
“No, you can’t die.” She curled both hands in his blood-soaked shirt and shook him feebly, willing him to wake up. Too many things had forced her to shed too many tears, and she refused to let this be yet another. “It’s not allowed. You’re going to be my dad, you said so. I’m going to have little sisters and a place to stay forever. Wake up, you big dope!”
Voices around her asked stupid questions. Someone put a hand on her shoulder. Someone else tried to nudge her away from Justin. She clung to him and couldn’t tell if he breathed or not. A shrill whinny rang out, and everyone scattered. Tariel’s head reached over Claire’s shoulder with a squirrel wriggling in the horse’s teeth and chittering up a storm.
Justin groaned and his eyes fluttered. Through clenched jaws, he said, “Did anyone get the number of that horse?”
More relieved than she’d ever been about anything, Claire threw herself across his chest.
He grunted. “Ease up, Claire. It takes time to heal. And shut that stupid ur up, it’s going to drive me nuts.”
“If I died, rest assured it would have been from getting shot.” Wincing, he eased himself up to sit with a hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”
She wiped her nose. “More or less. We’re in the middle of the street.”
“I just need another half a minute here.” He leaned on his elbows, making tiny noises of pain. “And I need that—” He grunted something unintelligible. Claire thought it might have been him biting back a curse word. “—ur to shut up.” Tariel brought the squirrel closer to him, and he grabbed it out of her mouth. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lop off your head right now.”
Claire looked around and saw people watching them. Some had their cellphones out, taking pictures or video. “I can think of a reason.” She gulped. “It might be on the Internet in thirty seconds if you do.”
Chapter 32
Justin
“Crap.” The pain faded away as Tariel healed him. He spotted his sword lying in the gutter. Aware of how awful he must look, he hopped to his feet and gave Claire a hand up. Because he had an audience, he paced to the side of the road, stomped on the sword’s hilt, and caught it. Several onlookers obliged him by gasping at the feat.
“What’re you gonna do to that squirrel?” A spindly young man with dreadlocks and patched jeans crossed his arms and gave Justin a suspicious glare.
He looked down at the ur-phasm, grateful it had finally shut up. It looked up at him and gulped. “You could just let me go,” it said.
None of these people would believe that the thing in his hand had tried to kill Claire and devour her essence. “I think my horse hurt it. I’ll take it to a vet and let them check it over.” His stupid sheath had been left behind at the police station with his stupid armor, which meant he now had to keep a hold on the sword.
