by Becca Andre
“Has the bullet been removed?” Briar asked.
“Yes.” Perseus folded his arms, then continued in a soft voice. “I have seen many such injuries, and few survive. If you could not help her, I was going to ask Grayson.”
“I don’t understand why she refused to let him heal her. Grayson told me that the Scourge can’t be made soulless.” Briar hesitated. What if—
“He wasn’t lying to you.”
Briar dropped her gaze, embarrassed that Perseus had seen where her thoughts went. It was disturbing how much faith she’d lost in Grayson.
“I explained as much to Kali,” Perseus continued, “but she doesn’t trust ferromancers—with good reason.”
Briar remained silent, hoping he would elaborate, but he didn’t.
“Without the ability to replace her damaged organs, Grayson might not have been able to help her, but he can still mend flesh. Hopefully, that would have been enough, though she wouldn’t have been happy about it.” Perseus shrugged. “But I would have endured her ire.”
“Because you’d rather have her mad at you than dead.”
“Yes.”
Briar smiled. “You have allowed yourself to become close to her, though you tried to avoid it.”
He sighed. “I have a weakness for fiercely independent women with an overdeveloped need to prove themselves.”
Briar chuckled. “We are endearing.”
He just smiled.
She brought the fiddle to her chin and, without further comment, began to play. Her left hand felt a little stiff, but it loosened up as her fingers danced along the strings. Soon, the action was as natural and instinctive as ever.
Briar didn’t know how she knew, but after a time, she felt she had accomplished her goal. Kali was healed. Finishing with a flourish, she lowered the fiddle.
Kali still lay on her pallet, but her dark eyes were open as she stared up at the canvas stretched over the hold.
“Kali?” Perseus squatted beside her pallet.
Her gaze moved to him. “Hey, Perce.” She sat up, and he reached out to help her.
“I got it,” she said.
Smiling, he sat back on his heels but didn’t rise to his feet until she was sitting comfortably.
Kali’s gaze shifted to Briar. “I see you’re back. I assume the bastard was defeated?”
“Bastards,” Briar clarified. “Darby was working for Andrew. Perseus can give you all the details—I’d rather not dwell on it—but Owens is no more and Darby is…” Briar hesitated.
“My soulless,” Grayson finished from the cabin doorway.
“What?” Kali demanded. Her glare shifted to Briar. “You let him—”
“No, she didn’t,” Grayson cut in. “I lost it, and Briar couldn’t call me back.”
“But she holds your construct,” Kali insisted.
“Briar isn’t ferra. She holds me through my humanity.” Grayson turned to include Perseus. “I need the two of you to stay close.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Perseus answered, not looking the least bothered by Grayson’s request. Unlike Kali whose mouth was hanging open.
Briar had had enough of the topic. “I’m going to heal Zach.” She stepped past Grayson into the cabin, intending to use the ladder to reach the aft deck.
“Are you mad because I didn’t heal them?” Grayson asked, following her.
“No.” She stopped beside the ladder and faced him. “I know they refused. I’m pleased that you honored their wishes.”
“I just wanted you to know that I would look out for yours when I’m able.”
She didn’t mention that such a promise was an empty one considering his level of devolvement. It was—
In her mind’s eye, she once again saw his back when he was… taking Darby. How could she have forgotten that? Or had she imagined it?
“What is it?” Grayson asked.
“Show me your back.”
His eyes met hers, and she could see that he understood where this was going. Without a word, he turned around and pulled his shirt off over his head.
Briar sucked in a breath. She hadn’t imagined it. His back looked just as it had after his final casting. All the exposed metal that had shown up in the last week was gone. Or more accurately, covered again.
“You told me that reversing devolvement wasn’t possible,” she said.
He faced her. “I don’t understand this, either.”
“Don’t you? You absorbed his soul, stole his humanity.” Her eyes widened. “That’s what happened with your hands. You did take from me.”
“No, I didn’t.” The anger in his words startled her. He must have noticed because his tone softened as he continued. “I didn’t take from you. If I had, I would have left soul iron behind, and there’s none in you. Ask Perseus or Kali.”
She frowned. “So what does this mean?”
He lifted his hands and let them fall. “I have no idea.”
It meant that they had found a way to reverse his devolvement—at the cost of another, but she didn’t say that aloud.
His brow wrinkled. “You don’t think I took Darby because…”
“I know why you did it. He hurt me, or rather, let another hurt me.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Yes.”
She nodded but could think of nothing else to say. How would they ever recover from this? With no answer to that question, she turned and climbed the ladder to the aft deck.
She wasn’t surprised to find Molly sitting on the tiller rail with Eli.
“Miss Briar.” Eli eyed her. “Should you be up?”
“I don’t see why not,” she answered. “I’ve healed Kali, now I’ll go heal Zach.”
“Molly said you let the ferromancer heal you.”
“I did.” Briar held Eli’s gaze, not sure what else to say.
He shook his head, an angry scowl on his features. “I should have drowned that damn ferromancer in the canal the first day he showed up on this boat.”
“Now, now.” Molly patted his knee. “Dwelling on what might have been does no one any good. We must look to the future and find ways to help Briar succeed.”
“You’re right.” Eli sighed, then gave Molly a sheepish glance. “Excuse my violent suggestion.”
“It’s quite all right,” Molly answered. “Though I have no violent impulses toward Mr. Martel, I have had a few negative thoughts about another individual.”
Eli chuckled. “I’m guilty of that as well.”
Andrew. They were talking about Andrew.
Briar stilled. “How close are we to the toll office?”
“Lock after next.” Eli came to his feet. “You don’t think that Andrew intends to meet us there, do you?”
“He doesn’t intend to meet me, but yes, he does intend to meet the boat. The fool believed that by removing me, Grayson would accept a ride with him.”
“Is he mad?” Eli asked. “Grayson would rip out his shiny metal innards, just like he did that Owens fellow.” Eli paused and turned to Molly. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to shock you with such a report.”
“I’m already aware of what happened to Mr. Owens, and if you think that I’d find such a sentiment about Mr. Rose shocking, well, my thoughts on the topic might shock you.”
Eli blinked, then offered her an uncertain smile.
Briar would have laughed if she didn’t have other concerns. “I don’t want Grayson going anywhere near Andrew. I’ll go heal Zach. Would you quietly ask Perseus to join me?”
“What are you planning?” Eli asked.
“Once I finish with Zach, Perseus and I will get off at the next lock. We’ll walk to the toll office.”
“I would like to accompany you, Miss Briar,” Eli said.
“I need you here to keep up a semblance of
normalcy and continue steering the boat.”
“But—”
“Please?” She moved closer and laid her hand atop his where it rested on the tiller. “You are a good man. It breaks my heart to see so much hate and the desire to do violence in you.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“Please?” she repeated. “I’ll be safe with Perseus.”
“That’s true,” Molly agreed.
“Fine,” Eli muttered.
“Thank you.” She didn’t give him a chance to change his mind before she hurried away.
Chapter 22
Briar lengthened her stride to keep pace with Perseus. They’d had no trouble slipping off the boat without Grayson’s notice. It had probably helped that she’d sent a freshly healed Zach to keep him occupied.
“Do you sense Andrew?” Briar asked Perseus as they approached the toll office.
“If you wished to sense the soulless at a distance, you should have brought Kali.” Perseus didn’t look over but kept his attention on their surroundings as they spoke.
“She was resting,” Briar answered. “Besides, Grayson would get suspicious if everyone left the boat.”
“I’m sure he has already figured out that you’re gone.”
“I hope not.”
“Perhaps you should have told him, then commanded him to stay on the boat.”
She frowned. “I only give him commands when things go amok. How would you feel if I did that to you?”
“I guess it would feel like you really were ferra.”
She decided not to pursue the argument. The toll office had come into view.
“There he is,” Perseus muttered, then continued before she could ask. “The courtyard to the right. See the bench beneath the tree?”
Briar looked where he indicated and smiled. Andrew was indeed sitting on the bench, but he wasn’t alone. Liam sat on the bench beside him, looking far more relaxed than Andrew.
Liam rose to his feet as they approached, and a muttered comment got Andrew on his feet as well, though he didn’t look happy about it. Or maybe he just wasn’t happy to see her.
“Uncle Liam,” she greeted him with a genuine smile. “I’m sorry you had such a disagreeable bench mate.”
“I endured.” He returned the smile, though he looked faintly puzzled. When they had last spoken, she had been upset with him. But she would get to that later.
“Andrew.” Her tone turned cool. “You look surprised to see me. Did you expect Owens to kill me so quickly?”
Liam stood straighter, a scowl replacing his smile. “What’s this?”
Perseus, meanwhile, had circled around behind Andrew, who gave him a nervous glance.
“I’ll share the full story later,” she said to Liam before turning back to Andrew. “Suffice it to say, Grayson took care of Owens and Darby. Now, why don’t you run along to your master and—”
“No, I’d rather he stayed,” a familiar accented voice said.
Briar spun to face Grayson, her heart in her throat. “What are you doing here?”
He had donned his waistcoat and coat, his gold watch chain glinting in the sun. He had dressed for this encounter, knowing full well the emphasis Andrew put on dress and status.
“Would you deny me the satisfaction of harvesting his organs?” Grayson asked her, though he watched Andrew.
“Yes, I would.” She suspected he was just saying that to frighten Andrew, but she wasn’t certain. “I have the matter in hand. Please don’t force me to command you.”
Grayson pressed his lips together, and his gaze left Andrew. He glanced at Perseus before addressing her. “Then you’ll have your oath-sworn dissolve his heart?”
“No. I won’t ask that of Perseus. I’m sending my cousin back to Solon to report his failure. Trust me, that will hurt him the most.”
“I beg to differ. I can teach him the true meaning of pain.”
“Damn it, Grayson, would you stop? I will send you back to the boat. Don’t test me.”
Grayson frowned, but he closed his mouth.
Briar released a breath. She hated fighting with Grayson, but—
Andrew lunged, moving with shocking speed, and slammed his shoulder, then his elbow into Liam’s ribs. Before the older man could grunt and stumble to the side, Andrew had already sprung in the opposite direction. He caught her by the shoulder and jerked her back against him, his other hand closing around her throat.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Andrew said to Perseus.
Briar gripped Andrew’s wrist, but she wasn’t watching Perseus. She had another concern.
Grayson’s eyes narrowed, and some sense told her that he was about to call the ferromancer.
Grayson, don’t. She threw her will against his. You killed a man to regain your humanity. Please don’t waste that. Don’t treat human life like a resource to be used and discarded.
Something in Grayson’s countenance changed, and she knew she’d gotten through to him.
“Now I understand. She’s controlling you,” Andrew said to Grayson. “That’s why you chose such an abysmal means of travel over what I could offer you.”
“What of my desire to rip out your metal entrails? How do you explain that?” Grayson asked, his tone conversational.
“It’s quite clear that she has commanded you to protect her.”
Perseus took a step closer.
Andrew tightened his grip on her throat. “Stay where you are.” The pressure made her gag at the same time she struggled to breathe. The sound that escaped wasn’t very dignified.
“Careful,” Grayson warned. “You would not want to rouse my need to protect her.”
Andrew relaxed his grip, but he didn’t release her.
“The question is,” Grayson continued, “why does she need protection from you, her own flesh and blood?”
With her back to his chest, Briar couldn’t see Andrew’s face, but she could imagine his expression.
“Don’t answer that,” Grayson continued. “I already know what you would say.”
“Sir?” Andrew clearly didn’t follow.
The faintest of smiles touched Grayson’s lips. “I know because you weren’t made soulless, you were born soulless, as devoid of all emotion as the most devolved ferromancer. That’s why we are so good at selecting the perfect minions. Like recognizes like.”
“I don’t follow, sir,” Andrew said.
“Nor will you.” The slightly bitter smile remained on Grayson’s face. “You have no capacity for compassion, no understanding of empathy, and a complete inability to love.”
“Which negates your whole like-recognizes-like argument,” Briar spoke up.
“Silence,” Andrew snapped, his hand tightened around her throat as he leaned closer. “He was speaking to me.”
She slung her head back and caught him in the face. The accompanying crunch made the instant headache worth it.
Andrew released her and stumbled away.
She turned to face him, intending to follow up with a punch or a knee, but Perseus was suddenly there. A powerful punch to Andrew’s sternum sprawled him across the bench.
Perseus pulled a soul-iron blade from his belt, but Briar caught his wrist before any purple lightning could manifest.
“Don’t,” she told him.
He lowered his arm. “He assaulted you, my lady.”
“He’s my last surviving blood relative.”
“He gave you to a deranged killer.” Perseus’s tone was cool.
“I promised Uncle Charlie on his death bed that I would look out for him.”
Grayson stepped up and placed a hand on Perseus’s shoulder, staying him. His eyes met hers, but he said nothing.
Andrew coughed, then rolled onto his side before pushing himself upright. He pulled his hand
kerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his nose.
“That is bullshit, Bridget.” His voice came out muffled. “Father would not make such a request. He knew of my superiority in matters of business and finance.”
“It’s true,” Liam spoke up. “He did make such a request. I was there, unlike you.”
Andrew sputtered.
“Go away, Andrew,” Briar said, suddenly exhausted. “I’m not playing your game of meeting you at every toll office. Take down the wanted posters, then crawl back to your master. We’ll be there at the appointed time.”
Andrew blustered a little more.
“The lady asked you to leave,” Perseus said. “If I were you, I would do as she asks.”
Andrew took a step back, though his gaze sought Grayson’s. “I’m sorry, Mr. Martel.”
“Indeed, you are,” Grayson answered. “But do not fret. We will meet again. Soon.”
“Yes, sir.” Andrew bowed deeply, then straightened. He gave Briar a smug smile and hurried away.
Briar watched him go, at a complete loss for words.
Liam laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, lass, but he is corroded.”
She snorted at his word choice, though the sound was closer to a sob. She had forever been at odds with Andrew, but she had always wanted things to be different. He could have been a brother to her. Instead, Eli had stepped up and assumed that role.
“He has always been corroded,” Liam added. “I believe Drake has the right of it. Andrew was born that way.”
She pulled her gaze from Andrew’s retreating back and faced Grayson. “No, he doesn’t have the right of it. At least, not entirely.”
“What do you mean?” Liam asked.
She answered him, though she held Grayson’s gaze. “Ferromancers are not like Andrew, or Darby, or Owens. They are completely capable of the full range of human emotion. Even Solon, as messed up as he is, has done all of this for the love of a son.”
“I compared the… corroded”—Grayson looked amused by the term—“to the devolved.”
“You did, but I maintain that isn’t an accurate comparison. It took a little work, but I was still able to piss Farran off.”
Grayson smiled at that.
