I made myself nod, and the crowd gasped. “Here.” I kept my knife hidden and put my other hand to my shirt as if I would pull something out from under it, lunged forward, and slashed my knife through the magic that Davin had wrapped around Crash.
The magic blasted apart, sending us flying in every direction. I hit the far wall, slid down it, and landed with my limbs all askew. Struggling for air again.
Crash was nowhere to be seen.
Davin was running toward me before I could so much as blink, the Silver Lady dragging him back and slowing him down.
The connection bloomed between us, and I lifted my hand. A burst of teal sparkles shot through with black—dust?—curled up around my fingers, and intuition had me flicking it at the ground.
Ghosts shot upward, not that anyone else could see them, and a hundred or more of them spilled toward Davin, clinging to him, pulling him down until he could no longer move. Goblins and humans, tiny fae, and others I couldn’t identify. They’d all died here, in this arena. And they were all pissed.
I forced myself to my feet and limped toward him. The pain in my ribs was now matched by a pain in my lower back and left hip. If there was ever a night for double Advil . . .
He glared up at me even as his face paled, not from fear, but from the energy they were sucking off him. I could see them taking him down in great gulps, their faces and forms solidifying further and further.
“They’re killing you,” I said. “You have any last words?”
“My master will finish what I started.” He smiled, though his lips were cracked and bloody.
I crouched beside him, and the second I did it—I knew I’d made an error. I was too close.
He lunged at me, tackling me and rolling us across the arena away from the ghosts.
Everything happened quickly and slowly. He sat up straddling me, my own knife in his hand. Even though I could see it hurt him to hold onto the handle, he swung it down toward me.
A body shot between us, long black hair and grimy clothes.
“Robert!” I yelled as he took the blow meant for me. I rolled over and pulled out the only thing I had left. The coin from my back pocket.
The Silver Lady touched the center of it, and it thinned and stretched into the weapon she’d held in the vision she gave me at the Marshall House. Robert lay unmoving off to the side of me. Crash was nowhere to be seen.
Before Davin could do anything more, I jammed the thin silver rod up and into his heart.
He bucked on top of me, his body stiffening as I held the tool meant for killing a vampire, but no doubt a silver rod through the heart would kill most people. The ghosts around us scattered, their eyes wide and their bodies shaking as the silver tool pulsed in time with Davin’s heartbeat.
“You . . .” Davin shook his head. “Not possible.”
And like all assholes should, he died rather unceremoniously after that attempt at a final pithy phrase. He slumped to the side, eyes glazed and chest still. I crawled to Robert and pulled my knife out of his ribs. “Tell me you’re okay,” I whispered.
I shifted so I could hold him a little better, harder than it sounds with a skeleton. “Robert?”
I didn’t know if magic could help him.
“Whiskey,” he mumbled, and I laughed.
“So soon after the last binge? Hell, why not.” I struggled to my feet and then reached down to pull him up. He was as wobbly as me.
Every part of my body shook, every muscle was on the verge of seizing, dancing as though I had electricity running through me. But I was alive. Robert was alive, well sort of. Bridgette was alive. I hoped Crash was alive.
Karissa was gone without so much as a see-you-later. No shock there.
The crowd though, they shot to their feet and began to chant a name I didn’t know.
“Gov-Nu. Gov-Nu. Gov-Nu.”
I turned to see Crash standing across from me at the far side of the arena. His head lowered until his chin touched his chest.
We’d done it.
The crowd of goblins burst over the edge of the arena seating and flowed around us. Some reached out and touched my hands first and then touched their foreheads. Some dared to touch the flat of the blade that I held in one hand.
Bridgette found us after the first wave. “You really killed him,” she said, beaming at me. “You have no idea . . . he’s been a monster to our people. You’re a hero!”
“Okay.” That was all I could manage. I didn’t doubt what she’d said, and it wasn’t that I didn’t care so much as I just desperately wanted to go home and sleep for a week.
Only I found myself thinking of what Crash had said earlier, before the fight. Maybe I wasn’t going to get to go home. Maybe . . . maybe Crash was going to kick me out. Maybe he was done putting up with the crazy danger that came with me.
That gave me pause. “Grimm?” I made myself shout his name, and someone must have set him free from his restraints, because he heard me through the sea of goblins and found his way to my side.
“You really did it. You kept the pages from them.” He shook his head. “They are hidden still?”
I nodded. “Yes.” Which they were, inasmuch as my bag could be considered a hiding place. “I’ll keep them until the silver moon passes tomorrow night. As per our agreement, three days was the time frame. You won’t get them back until then.”
He smiled and dipped his head to me. “You mean I won’t get them back until you get paid.”
I pointed a finger at him and clicked my mouth. “You got it.”
Grimm went still and crouched, motioning for me to do the same. “The pages . . . they aren’t just a spell, they have the ability to allow the darkest powers of the shadow world to come forward. If there was a way to destroy them, I would do it. Nothing good can come from them. Do you understand?”
I stared hard at him. “Now you want me to try and burn them or something?”
His eyes were all seriousness. “What you are is unique in our world, and it means you are one of the few who could destroy them. When the chance comes, take it.”
Grimm looked over my shoulder and his face fell, and if green skin could pale, it did.
“What now?” I asked.
“The SCE is here. Roderick is with them. He wants the pages too. In the wrong hands, those pages could wreak absolute destruction on this town. Maybe even the world.”
“Yeah, I got that much. I have them hidden. You want me to destroy them if I can. What about the coin?” Again, I intentionally withheld where they were being hidden.
He tapped my hip bag, damn it, so I wasn’t so good at keeping my secrets as I thought. “Keep it, it’s a weapon and one you should probably have if you’re going to survive this world and what I think is coming.”
“Why are you helping me now?” I stared him down, feeling the weight of others coming closer and ignoring it. There were times to hold out on hurrying, and this was one of them.
He pulled me lower to the ground, which was mighty uncomfortable for my hamstrings. “Listen to me. This was one of the first moves in a game of chess where all the pieces cannot be seen, and the players are many and hidden well. We can meet later, I will do what I can to explain more.”
A throat cleared behind us.
I made myself stand, noting that the goblins had cleared the area around us.
“Let me guess,” I said, dusting myself off, “Roderick?”
“What a well-placed guess,” Roderick said. “Again, you are here. Ms. O’Rylee, you are a true meddler.”
That spun me around. “Well, that’s rather rich coming from you. Who also just happens to show up at all the places I’m at. What are you doing, following me around?”
The thought hit me like a ton of bricks. He’d been at every place of trouble I’d found. Had he been tracking me? Could it be through that damn coin-that-wasn’t-a-coin that I couldn’t seem to rid myself of?
“My job brings me here,” he said.
“As does mine,” I
fired back. “But don’t worry, I’ve already cleaned up this mess.”
His one eyebrow arched and he changed the subject. “What were they fighting over?” Roderick motioned at the goblin king dead on the ground and Crash who was surrounded by jumping, jubilant goblins cheering a name I didn’t think he’d ever meant for me to find out. Guv-Na. At least that was how it sounded. Probably wasn’t spelled that way. I looked at him, and didn’t see him hating the goblins the way Bridgette had said. So was she wrong? Or was he just that good at showing people what they wanted to see?
Yeah, that last possibility was one that stuck in my craw.
I looked to Grimm for help. He nodded ever so slightly to me. “Same old. The crown that Derek wanted and Crash does not.”
Roderick sighed. “Lovely. Breena, you were pulled into this mess how?”
Think quickly, Bree. “Because I happened to be with Crash. And they thought he would be upset if something happened to me.”
Roderick’s eyebrows both slowly rose. “And would that be the truth? Would he be upset if something happened to you?”
We need to talk after this.
Are you kicking me out of the house?
The back and forth from earlier reverberated through my head, through my thoughts. Was I hot and bothered for him? Beyond a shadow of a doubt. But could I really trust him? The moments from our shower together came back to me, his hands and . . . other things against my skin. Was that even real, or had there been an ulterior motive? I wanted to trust him fully. I wanted to believe he wanted me for me.
But he wouldn’t even look at me now. Like suddenly he couldn’t be seen with me. He hadn’t even come to see if I was okay—which I was not. I was bruised and battered in body and, worse, in the part of my heart I’d slowly been giving him.
“Bree, would he be upset?” Roderick repeated the question, softer, gentler.
“I’m thinking. I . . . don’t know,” I finished lamely. “I don’t know, okay? Probably not as much as he might claim to be.”
He nodded. “Anything in particular you think they were fighting over then, if not you?”
I lifted both hands and lied through my teeth. “Not a clue.”
Roderick stared hard at me. “You aren’t a good liar. You know that, right?”
“Girl’s gotta try when she’s been sworn to secrecy,” I said.
Roderick looked from me to Grimm and back again. “Fine. For now. The council may want to speak with you again about this.”
That gave me pause, a thought rumbling through me, cutting through the aches and pains and the desire to lie down for a week. “Roderick, when I walked through the desks at the council, and all the spells were taken off me, was there a small one, something like a deterrent spell?”
My gran’s and parents’ files had—according to Tom—a spell on them that was making me not want to open them. But when I’d walked through the desks and all the spells had been lifted off me, Roderick had said I’d only had a slight glamor on me, an old spell.
He shook his head. “No, just the glamor. Why?”
Why indeed? Corb had been suspicious there was a spell, but not sure. Tom had been sure, and then he’d pulled some sort of magic slug out of me. Louis couldn’t talk to ghosts. They’d thought Suzy had no power but had brought her on anyway. I frowned. “Just how big of hacks are the Hollows? Like can they make it look like they have mad skills but really have bubkes?”
The sounds around us slowed a little and Roderick gave a sad smile. “The biggest of all the hacks. You were their best shot of moving up in the ranks, and you left. It’s why they allow Corb and Sarge to play both sides of the field. Those with any skill in their ranks tend to leave.”
The implications flipped all the switches in my head. Taking a nonexistent spell off me was a ruse then? Was that possible that Tom hadn’t pulled anything from me at all? I had sneezed, something flew through the air but . . . he’d said I’d owe him and the Hollows one immediately after he’d “helped” me. Was that how they got by? By tricking people?
Ouch. And I fell for it. I blew out a slow breath. “Great. Thanks.”
I pointed a finger at Grimm and mouthed, You owe me. He nodded and bowed over clasped hands. Best I was going to do at holding him to his word considering the shape I was in. Not like I was going to be able to grab him and give him a shake to make a point that I meant business and I expected him to pay up.
I pushed my way through the thinning crowd to the body of the dead goblin king—which now was back to his original size with super tiny balls—and found my second knife, scooped it up and cleaned it off on my pants.
A knife that Crash had made for me.
Emotions I did not like swirled up and through me as I made my way out of the slowly dissolving arena. Bridgette did not come with me.
The fake Vegas Strip reappeared, and I walked down it, limping, struggling to get enough breath. I was not going to be heartbroken over a man who’d offered me nothing, a man who had not promised me a single thing. Any heartbreak was on me. We’d had nothing more than a friendship with some benefits. The rest had been in my imagination.
I half thought Crash would follow and tell me it was okay, that we’d talk later. But he didn’t show, and the walk of shame was . . . well, it was shameful. It hurt in more ways than the obvious limping hurt and the crush of my ribs.
Robert swayed alongside me. “I wish you were really here, Robert. I could use a shoulder to cry on.”
“Friend,” he whispered to me, and slid his hand into mine. I held onto his bones for all I was worth.
“Yeah, you’re a good friend.”
We made it back to Skel without an issue, and Eric, Suzy, Feish, and Kinkly were all there waiting.
My lower lip trembled. I tried so hard to not cry when I saw them alive and well, but it wasn’t going to happen. Their arms circled around me.
“We got you, Bree,” Suzy whispered. “You don’t always have to be the strong one. Give us a turn.”
And for the first time since I’d come back to Savannah, I let them do just that.
26
We arrived at the house that had belonged to my gran, and for the first time, I saw it for what it really was.
Crash’s house. Not Gran’s, not mine. He’d taken my name off the deed, just in case. And now I had zero standing.
I started to shake, took a deep breath and held it until I was lightheaded, and finally let the air back out with a hiss of pain. Stapled to the door was a piece of paper folded in half with my name on it written in Crash’s own handwriting. I opened it.
It was the deed to the house, and my name was most certainly not on it. “We’re out.”
Suzy put a hand on my shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
I shook my head and tucked the paper into my back pocket. “We aren’t welcome here anymore,” I said. “Crash wants us out.”
Feish gasped. “He kicked you out?”
I gave a sharp nod, ignoring the hurt. Maybe not the most emotionally mature thing to do, but I was exhausted and not in a great shape to deal with this whole scene. “We’ll clean up, stay the night, and then go.”
In we went, Suzy and Eric talking quietly to each other as they went up to their rooms. I set Kinkly on the kitchen table. “What can we do for you?” I asked, trying to distract myself by keeping my mind on the tasks at hand. “Is there an easy way to heal your wings?”
She pursed her lips. “Celia could have healed them. Karissa could do it, but I doubt the queen will help me now. I can’t believe he is kicking you out! Maybe the queen is forcing him to?”
If my gran could have helped Kinkly, then maybe Missy could. I chose to ignore the rest of her questions. “And if we do nothing, will they heal?”
She bobbed her head. “Yes. I’ll be more of a target in the meantime, but they will mend on their own in about a week.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed a hand over my face, or was going to. My hand was caked with dark brown stains�
��Davin’s and Derek’s blood had dried in a thick layer on my skin. I lowered my hand. “You could try Missy, but I don’t know who else would be able to help you.”
She shrugged and winced. “I’ll get my two sisters to come and stay with me in the oak tree. I’ll spy on Crash for you. See who’s going in and out for the next week. It’ll be okay, Bree. It will.”
I smiled and managed to give her a wink. She gave me two thumbs-up. As if everything really was going to be okay.
Up to my bedroom I went. I still hadn’t acquired much stuff, and I easily packed it into two bags. I flipped open my hip bag, and Alan slid out. I barely remembered stuffing him in there. “Damn it, I hate you, Bree.”
I didn’t even bother to look at him. Like I needed a Jiminy Cricket twittering on about my failings and insecurities—my own mind was perfectly good at throwing those at me. I had to find a way to remove him from me.
“Gran,” I called out, “I need to talk to you.”
Gawd, I was going to have to say goodbye to her. I mean, I’d only just gotten her back, and if I left, would she disappear completely? And just where the hell was I going to go? I couldn’t go back to Corb’s for obvious reasons, and I was fast running out of money thanks to my spree on the camouflage uniforms earlier.
Gran didn’t come in, and I was just too tired to find her. I forced myself into the shower despite the memories that assailed me of my time with Crash. I might have cried a bit, but you can prove nothing and I’m admitting nothing. When I finished, I crawled into my bed and flicked off the light.
My dreams were as dark as they’d ever been, the Sorrel-Weed house front and center in them, the blood-born demon taunting the crap out of me.
Then someone was begging for me to help them. Then screaming for help. At the edge of my consciousness, I could almost recognize the voice.
“No, don’t hurt her!” I called out in my sleep, partially waking myself.
A hand touched my face and I sat up, batting it away. Corb was crouched by the bed. “Bree, what happened?”
“Did you know that there was no spell on me from the envelope?” The question blurted out of me and I put a hand on his arm. He didn’t tense, and he didn’t look away.
Midlife Demon Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 3 Page 23
