The message ended.
My fingers fumbled to call him back. Forever passed between heartbeats as I waited for him to answer.
"Luke! Where are you? Are you okay?"
A smooth voice replied. "It's so nice to hear your voice, Julia."
Hammond.
Jesus fucking Christ. Hammond had Luke. My whole body buckled under the siege of crippling fear. My pulse pounded against my throat.
"Wh…what…"
"Here's how this is going to work," he said. "You're going to come home, and we're going to talk."
"We can talk now. Talk to me now."
"I need to know I have your full attention."
"You have it!"
"You have one hour," he said, "before your love goes up in flames."
"No, wait—"
"Come alone."
The line went dead.
"Hammond? Luke!"
Silence on the other end. The phone beeped the signal that the call had been lost.
I threw my phone at the brick wall. It exploded into a shower of glass, plastic, and electronic parts.
My knees hit the snow-covered ground, my body trembling with anger and fear. A red haze clouded my vision. I no longer noticed how cold it was outside.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Air. I needed air. I gulped down cold crisp air that hit my lungs like sharp needles. And I screamed. I screamed and screamed until my throat went raw. Tears fell from my eyes and froze on my face. I sobbed until there was nothing left but my body shaking in anger and the taste of vengeance in my mouth.
This was my worst nightmare.
I'd been so close. So close to getting Hammond and quitting this job. So close to having a life with Luke.
Luke.
My God.
I had to get him out of there.
Get us out of here. Out of this town.
Picking myself up, I turned to Leander.
He’d stood quietly next to my car throughout my breakdown. I couldn't quite meet his eyes.
"Change of plans," I said. "I want a sword."
"Ruby Blackthorn? That's your source for a sword?" Leander's eyes were wide, his brow creased with fear.
"You got a better idea? Is there some kind of faerie buy-and-sell shop around?"
We'd driven away from the storage unit to a small empty parking lot down the street. I'd already called out her name on the winter wind and asked her to meet me. She should be appearing any second.
"No, but this is perilous."
"We don't have time to debate—"
He grabbed my arm. "Do you have any idea who she is?"
"She's a purple-haired teenage faerie," I said with a shrug.
But even as I said it, I knew there was more to Ruby than her choice of hair colour. I knew on a cellular level that she was dangerous, even if I didn't know exactly why.
"What happened yesterday at the grocery store?" I asked him.
He shook his head. "There's no time to speak of it." He released my arm. "What have you done?"
"I'm saving Luke."
He pursed his lips. "She can't find me here. I have to go."
"Where are you going? What about capturing Hammond?"
"I'll find you."
He changed into his dog form and slipped away into the shadows, leaving me to face Ruby alone in the parking lot.
Hammond had given me an hour. The clock was ticking.
I didn't have time to consider what I had done or was about to do.
Ruby sauntered across the parking lot with her giant white wolf in tow.
"I knew we'd see each other again," she said with a laugh.
In a puffy metallic pink jacket and her bright hair, it was hard to consider her dangerous. But it was there. In the way she moved. In the sharp look in her eyes. In the seductive tone in her voice. She stopped in front of me: her wolf lowered itself down the ground beside her.
Best to keep this visit short.
"Let's cut right to it," I said. "I need that sword."
She curled up the corners of her mouth. "Finally come around to my way of thinking? I knew you would eventually."
"Do you have the sword or not?"
"Of course, I do." She sounded insulted. "But you didn't really think I was just going to hand it over, did you?"
So there it was. The reason the boss had warned us about working with faeries. They always wanted something.
Fear and anger flared through me. "What? You said you had a sword that would help me."
"I do...but see the thing is, if I hand over Winterstruck, you will owe me a favour."
I clenched my teeth. "What favour?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "To be determined at my discretion."
Great.
There it was. Everything I'd been warned about.
This favour could be anything, but it would likely have something to do with the sword.
I sighed, tired of playing faerie games. "You want me to kill someone, don't you?"
She smiled, smug and content, like a cat that just ate the family's pet canary.
"Who?" I asked.
She continued to smile but it turned dark. "You've noticed how cold it is?"
I nodded.
"The ruler of the Winter Court has lost his way. He's too old to lead us in these uncertain times. In his diminished mental capacity, he is not coping with the elements of the human world. He's creating this extreme cold in an effort to right a balance on a scale only he can see."
"This ruler...he doesn't happen to wear a long fur coat and a rack of antlers on his head, does he?" I asked, remembering the vision of the tall man outside the restaurant the night of the fire and how I was mysteriously drawn to find him there.
Ruby paled. "How do you know that? You met him? You met my father?"
"Wait—your father is the Winter King?" And I thought I had family problems.
"Fuck. Is he checking up on me? What did he say? How did he find you?"
"He was standing outside the restaurant. We never spoke."
"Take it," she said. She pulled the dagger out of her pocket and held it flat on the palm of her pink-gloved hand. "Take the sword. Use it for your purpose and then keep it to return the favour."
I shook my head. "There must be another way."
"There is no other way," she snapped. "Take it or leave it."
Her eyes flashed with anger. "Take the sword now because otherwise, you won't see it again. There will be no further offers and my people will be instructed not to speak to you. Do you understand me? This is the only cold iron you will ever see."
The white wolf stood up.
I glanced at my watch. I was running out of time.
Magnusson had always warned me that contracts with the fae were worse than with any litigation lawyer. And thanks to my mother, I'd certainly met my share of lawyers.
I didn't know how I was going to contain Hammond or if my agency would have a way to keep rogue fae after the police got through with us, but I knew one thing for certain: I wasn't a killer.
And I was no faerie's pawn.
"No deal," I said. I turned on my heel and headed for my car.
"Tell me something," she said. "Did you find the location of your first partner?"
I stopped, my back stiffening.
Here it comes.
"Pretty fucked up world when your enemy is telling you the truth while your team is lying to you and abandoning you. Don't you think?"
I kept walking.
"This isn't over. We will meet again, Julia Ivory," she said.
About that, I had no doubt.
I stalked to my car and yanked open the door. "Leander?" I called out into the night. My calls were only met with the sound of traffic. I whistled, even though he didn't want me to, but if he heard, he didn't come.
I couldn't wait around for him. I was out of time.
And now I would be facing Hammond alone.
Ruby was ri
ght about one thing: it was a pretty fucked up world.
29
I went into the hushed apartment with my M1911 in my hand. The refrigerator hummed and the gas fireplace made soft whooshing sounds. I could smell Luke's cologne.
"Luke?" I called out.
I knew he was here the way I also knew Hammond was here. I felt their presence.
"In here," Hammond said.
I followed his voice to the living room. He and Luke sat on the ledge in front of the fireplace. Luke's mouth had been covered with a red bandana. Sweat poured from his forehead and soaked through his pink button-up shirt. Next to him, Hammond basked in the heat.
Little hairs on the back of my neck rose. My stomach sank to the floor. I had to get Luke out of here.
"I'm here," I said. "Let him go."
Hammond raised his arm, lifting a knife to Luke's throat.
"As I said, I need your undivided attention," Hammond said.
My fiancé tried to back away from the knife, but couldn't. The heat from the fireplace was too much. Luke looked up at me, pleading with his eyes. He was trying to understand. But there was no way to explain any of this.
I shook my head. "You'll have it. Let him go. Please, let him go. He's not part of this."
In response, Hammond pushed the knife against Luke's throat causing a thin red line to appear.
"Stop! Stop, please!" I held my hands up as I moved around the chesterfield and sat down. I put my gun down on the coffee table before me.
"There. You have my attention. Say what you need to say and get out of here."
Nodding, Hammond relaxed the knife, but didn't lower his hand.
"Good. Yes. Excellent. This is so much bigger than you realize, you understand," he said. "I'm awake now and I see everything so clearly."
"Great. You're awake. Now leave." Tears formed in my eyes and rolled silently down my cheeks.
He shook his head. "No, you don't understand."
"No, you don’t understand. I don’t care. I don’t care that you betrayed your queen and Court. I don’t care that you and your buddy Hemlock poisoned them—"
"What?" He turned suddenly to face me, finally moving the knife away from Luke. My fiancé visibly exhaled with relief. Tears streamed from his eyes, mixing with the beads of sweat. I felt like a knife had been wrenched through my heart.
"I did not betray my queen," Hammond said hurriedly. "I did not poison anyone. Tell me what happened. Tell me what you know."
"Someone poisoned your Summer brethren," I said. "Right around the winter solstice."
He shook his head. "Some of us, myself included, went into slumber for a short time to deal with the worst of winter. And then I was awakened."
"They were poisoned and left for dead. But not you," I said. "Why were you not poisoned, Hammond?"
He shook his head again, seeming confused, looking as though he was trying to remember something. Good. He was almost sufficiently distracted enough for me to signal to Luke to get out of here. Time to move in with the punchline.
"See, I've been thinking," I said. "The poisoner had to have help to move all those bodies. So here's the deal: you let my friend go, and I won't tell the Summer Queen that you were working with the poisoner. With Hemlock."
In the short time we'd been talking, the room had become even more uncomfortably hot. I wanted to strip off my coat, but at the same time, it was keeping a barrier against the worst of the heat.
"Hemlock? No!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. "He…I had nothing to do with it!"
Hammond reached over and snatched Luke by the arm, hauling him to his feet. I jumped up.
"No! Stop this," I pleaded. "Please stop this."
"I didn’t poison anyone." The temperature continued to climb.
"What are you doing?" I pleaded. "It's too warm. Stop."
The heat continued. Furniture cracked and began to smoulder. Metal beams inside the walls knocked.
"Hammond. Stop." I had to shout to be heard.
Flames broke out around the room. Fire began to ravage the apartment, licking up the curtains, snapping at the tables and chairs.
No.
No no no no no.
I choked down a cough from the billowing smoke filling the air. The smoke alarm went off in the kitchen. The whole condo would soon know there was a fire. I prayed they got out.
I had to do something.
"Let him go," I said and immediately began coughing. "Let Luke go. Please."
Hammond only smiled.
"Have me instead," I choked out.
That got his attention. His eyes snapped to me. He was considering it.
My heart pounded a savage rhythm. My apartment—my life!—was going up in flames and I was offering sex to a sex-crazed fire-starting faerie? Who was the crazy one now?
"You are ready, aren't you?" Hammond stood up, releasing the spell holding Luke. Luke fell to the floor as Hammond stalked toward me.
Get up, Luke. Get up and crawl out of here.
The smoke made my eyes water. I couldn't see him—all I wanted to do was jump over the coffee table and drag him out of here, but I couldn't even see him in all the smoke.
I tried to shout for Luke, to tell him to get out of here, but I only choked on smoke.
Hammond knelt in front of me and took hold of my arms. "You're ready for me? For the truth? To join us and know the truth of who you are?"
My skin went cold. There it was again—this suggestion that I was something more than I seemed, something more than I'd ever known.
I decided to play along, to let him reveal this story he was dying to tell me, and use the distraction to keep his attention on me.
"What are you playing at, Hammond?"
"It's so wonderful you don't know. It will make revealing the truth to you so much more exquisite."
"What, Hammond?" I asked again, rapidly losing the scraps of composure I had remaining.
"We are the lost. But you were already out here, weren't you? Already waiting."
He stood over me, grinning that self-satisfied smile. Fear gripped my throat, my breaths came quick and shallow. I swallowed down the lump of fear.
"What are you talking about?"
"You think you are protecting the humans. You think you're one of them. Has it never occurred to you that someone wants you to think that?"
I snorted. "This is the real me."
The corner of his mouth turned up. "So naïve."
He reached for my face. I ducked and rolled. Around us, the apartment crashed to pieces. Art fell off the walls; glass smashed on the floor as tables crumpled, devoured by flames. At least the concrete was holding up. For now.
My fingers found my gun. I came up, firing bullets into Hammond’s chest. He staggered back, falling over the coffee table. I launched myself around him, crawling on the floor, reaching for Luke.
Instead, I found Leander.
"How—" I tried to ask. Then I saw the fire hose he'd dragged in from the hallway. Water sprayed freely in all directions, sending up clouds of smoke and ash.
He was in human form, kneeling over Luke, who was lying on the ground, soaking wet, coughing, his eyes squeezed shut. Leander raised his arm, holding out a sword to me. The sword. Winterstruck.
"Wha—" I broke into a coughing fit.
"Fire trucks on the way," he said.
At first, I felt relief. Then I realized more civilians would enter, making for more victims for Hammond to use.
There was no time to lose. I could lecture Leander about whatever bargain he'd made with Ruby later. If I survived this.
I snatched the sword.
"Get Luke out of here," I growled.
I turned and dove into the inferno.
Wading through the debris in the apartment with the sword in one hand and the fire hose in the other, I realized that the difference between bravery and stupidity was microscopic. Because honestly, it didn't get any stupider than going deeper into the fire when I had a chance to flee with Luke an
d Leander.
Was this what bravery felt like? Like I was doing something incredibly stupid? Like getting one last chance to do the responsible thing to ensure others would be safe?
Luke knew about Hammond. Knew what he could do. There was no way to save him from the inevitable.
The apartment was destroyed. Everything I'd been working towards was gone.
Call it what you want: bravery, stupidity, revenge.
I was going to destroy Hammond. Even if it killed me.
I had nothing left to lose.
When the hose reached its maximum length, I used it to spray around until I found Hammond lying on the coffee table with blood seeping out of his chest.
I dumped the fire hose and moved in for the strike with both hands on the sword.
For a brief moment, Hammond's eyes widened with alarm when he saw me lunging at him, then he filled with rage. Just as I swung the sword, he lunged and struck my face with the back of his hand so hard I spun sideways.
But I maintained my grip on the sword as I fell.
Hammond grabbed me by the hair and yanked.
My mind snapped. The dam that had been holding me back, holding me to the "capture and detain" creed, broke free. Emotion flooded forth, anger, hatred, and despair riding on the front wave.
I twisted onto my back and kicked at his arm and chest. His grip on my hair came free.
I launched onto my feet, swinging the sword. It cut into his side. He cried out as he fell back, trying to scramble out of the sword's reach.
"No," he pleaded. "Please, no."
Not wanting to lose him in the smoke, I hurried forward and pressed the point of the sword to his chest. My arms trembled, tiring. Swords were heavier than they looked.
"You have to understand," he said. "This isn't like me. This isn't like me at all."
My body ached to get to fresh air. Coloured dots danced before my eyes. I wheezed and coughed.
"No," I said. "You have to understand. I no longer care."
I plunged the cold iron into his chest. He cried out in agony.
A great crash of shattered glass blocked out the roar of the fire. Cold wind billowed the smoke.
Someone called my name.
Hammond struggled, but I pressed harder, leaning with every last scrap of strength. Then he went still, as though all life had suddenly fled his body.
Winterstruck: an urban fantasy supernatural crime thriller Page 19
