by Alicia Wolfe
“I think I will take that drink,” he said.
He moved to the refrigerator and snagged a cold one. He normally didn’t drink beer, so this must be big. I mean, the bottle of wine was just sitting right there on the counter, and I knew he preferred wine. But if he couldn’t even take the time to find a glass and pour, then I knew Nevos must have been telling the truth, or some version of it.
Damn.
When he’d taken a long sip, Davril turned back around. His eyes moved to me, then moved on, and I knew he was seeing another place, another time.
“Liana …”
His voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. The pain in it was so clear that I almost started to cry. Just the memory of Liana was enough to cause him distress. The question was whether he deserved it. That was something I meant to find out. If my own partner would betray his brother, why wouldn’t he betray me, too?
Part of me shrank in fear. Because sooner or later Davril would find out that I’d slept with Nevos, and he might think that constituted a betrayal, as well. Even though it wasn’t. At all. It hadn’t meant anything. It was just part of the job. A very sexy, satisfying part of the job.
“Well?” I said at last. I didn’t say it meanly, though. The anger had gone out of me, at least for the moment. I tried to say it strongly, but also with some sympathy. “Was she Nevos’s wife?”
Slowly, he nodded. He took a long sip. “It was years ago,” he said, his voice dreamy. “Before the fall of the Nine Thrones … back when I sat one of those thrones myself.”
“You were king.”
Another sip. “Yes.”
Slowly, as if locked in a trance, he pulled up a chair and sat down. When he didn’t go on, I said, “You were a king, and you slept with your brother’s wife. He found out, grew furious and turned on you. His anger was so great he even sided with the Shadow against you. Is that about right?” Despite my best efforts, anger was creeping back into my voice.
Davril said nothing, just stared at the wall, or through it, as if gazing into the past.
“That one act brought all this about,” I said, waving the hand that wasn’t holding my beer. “The collapse of your empire, the war, the flight from your homeland, the battles we’ve fought, are still fighting …”
Distantly, mechanically, he said, “Yes.”
That was it. No denial, no excuses, no explanations. I stared at him. I wanted to drag the excuses out of him. I knew there had to be more than that. There had to be. He was Davril Stormguard, damn it, knight and lord, noble and true. The man I loved.
Shit. Did I just think that? Take it back, I told myself. But it was too late.
I loved him. I knew that now. But if he was really to blame for all this, and there weren’t any mitigating circumstances …
I pulled up a chair and sat next to him. “Davril,” I said softly. “Tell me the truth. Tell me the story. I know you. I know you wouldn’t just …”
Slowly, very slowly, his faraway eyes turned to me. “Jade, it’s true. All of it. Liana died. Because of me.”
My stomach churned. “How?”
“I …” He sighed and took a long pull. “I don’t know where to begin, Jade. Nevos has a right to his anger. He’s wrong, but he’s also right.”
“I don’t know what any of that means, Dav. Walk me through it. Treat me like I’m not from the Fae Lands and don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Before he could answer, someone knocked on the door. Both our heads snapped in that direction. The front door was just off the kitchen, and we could both see it.
“Were you expecting company?” Davril said.
“No.” Raising my voice, I said, “Rubes, did you order a pizza or something?”
Silence, then Ruby appeared. She looked drained from using her magic, and I remembered her coming to find me minutes ago. Did that mean she had something to report? Had she found the location of the wardrobe?
There was no time to ask that now.
“No,” she said. Her face was unusually tight, her eyes fixed on the door. “But I sense something …” She reached out a hand toward the door, questing. She gasped and dropped her hand. “Something powerful!”
Icy fingers traced down my spine.
The knocking came again, louder this time. I jumped.
Davril’s hand moved to his hip, prepared to draw his sometimes invisible sword if necessary.
Swallowing, I moved to the door. I would open it, and Davril and Ruby would be braced to deal with whatever was on the other side. Before I could get there, however, the door exploded open with such force that I was hurled backward. I crashed into Ruby and we both went down flailing.
Cursing, I climbed back to my feet to find Davril on the ground, too. The air was filled with dust, and the kitchen table lay in splinters. The door sagged in its frame.
Davril climbed to his feet and whipped out his sword. It glowed palely in the dust-filled chamber. Then, slowly, the dust cleared, and revealed in the doorway was none other than Vincent Walsh.
“I believe you have something of mine,” he said.
Chapter 19
I stared, hardly able to believe it. The world seemed to spin and shift around me. Vincent Walsh, my arch-nemesis, here? In my home? We had taken great pains to keep our place of residence concealed from enemies.
I found my voice. “Get the fuck out of here, you bastard!”
Unconsciously my gaze went to his left hand. There on his third finger glittered the black ring—the ring I had longed to get my hands on for years. Only without him around to fight me for it. Inside that ring was my fire. The missing piece of myself.
Tall and elegantly dressed, with dark hair and eyes, Walsh watched us smugly. Power radiated off him. At any moment he could become a dragon or use his magic to destroy us.
Well, he could try.
“Do your worst,” Ruby said, coming to stand beside me.
Davril slashed his sword through the air, stalking forward. “You are not welcome here, monster.”
Walsh narrowed his eyes. He was a handsome man, but there was so much malice and arrogance in his face that it robbed him of all attractiveness. He was loathsome and terrifying. When he narrowed his eyes, flames burned in the back of them. A bit of smoke curled up from his nostrils.
Davril paused. Wise man.
Walsh’s gaze landed on me. His voice cracked like thunder: “Thief!”
I held my ground. “Look who’s talking.”
“Give me back what you stole.”
“I will if you will.” I indicated his ring.
His eyes smoldered. Literally. “All dragonfire shall be mine, you unworthy wretch. Now give me back what you stole and I might let you live.”
“Gee, that sounds like such a sweet deal,” Ruby said. One of her hands was in a fist, and I knew that the knob must be inside.
Walsh apparently figured that out, too. He raised the hand that didn’t have the black ring on it, palm out toward Ruby. Her fist shook, then her arm, and her arm shot straight up, the knob inside her fist being drawn toward Walsh like a magnet.
Davril lunged at Walsh, sword flashing. Walsh simply opened his mouth and a blast of hot air sent Davril reeling backward, hair flying, skin turning red. I used the distraction to leap at the evil mage. He merely flicked the fingers of the hand that did bear the ring and suddenly I was floating through the void of space. Darkness whizzed around me, and stars. Then I was back in the kitchen, but on the far side of it, and frost had gathered in the fine hairs all over my body.
Whoa.
Ruby let out a cry and the knob flew through the air and landed in Walsh’s waiting hand. Victory crossed his features as he regarded it.
“Bastard,” I said.
His lips twitched upward. Slowly, though, his expression changed. Grew troubled.
“A working has been wrought upon it,” he said. “The location of the wardrobe is known.” Fury replaced the look of victory. “You fools, what have you done?”
Davril, Ruby and I glanced at each other, then back to Walsh. I was the first one to speak:
“What do you mean?”
Practically biting off the words, he said, “Why would you want the wardrobe? What possible use can it have for you?”
“We don’t want it,” Davril said, exploringly. “It was taken by a witch named Angela. Do you know her?”
Walsh stroked his chin. “Yes, I know her. A foul thing, seduced by the dark powers.”
“Unlike you,” I said.
Hastily, before Walsh could rebuke me, Ruby said, “What’s this all about?”
Walsh paused. Behind him in the hallway I could hear people talking and doors opening and closing as people checked out the situation. They’d heard the exploding door and wanted to know what was going on. Of course, this being Gypsy Land it was even odds on whether they’d call the police. Just the same …
“If we’re not going to kill each other, can we at least come inside?” I said.
Walsh stepped past the threshold. He snapped his fingers again and the splintered remains of the door resolidified, becoming a door once again.
“Wow,” said Ruby. “You’ve got some major mojo.”
I wanted to remind her that this bastard had killed our father and grandmother, but I didn’t bother. I knew she hadn’t let herself forget. Walsh may be evil, but his power was impressive.
Now that we weren’t quite so conspicuous, I said, “Well? Are you going to tell us or leave us guessing?”
Walsh sneered. He shoved the knob away in a fold of his clothes. “You fools don’t know what you’ve done. You’ve allowed a high servant of the Shadow to find a means of communing with him directly. This situation must be rectified.” He considered us. “I suppose you could be useful. It would be better not to kill you. For now.” He seemed to be speaking as much to himself as to us.
“What do you intend to do?” Davril demanded. He had his sword raised and seemed coiled for another lunge. I admired his bravery. It was all I could do not to turn around and run away.
“I intend to find that witch and stop her,” Walsh said. “Before she can seize the wardrobe for herself. Its location had always eluded my spells, but Angela, using magic from a different set of dimensions, seems to have found her quarry. There may still be time, while her imprint is fresh upon this knob, to recreate her spell—”
“Already done it,” Ruby said.
Walsh’s eyebrows shot up. “You? Really?”
“Really.”
“Where is it?” I asked her. “The wardrobe? Please don’t tell me it’s in Beijing or something.”
“No.” She shook her head, red hair swaying to either side. “It’s right here in New York. In fact, it’s somewhere you were at just yesterday.”
I smacked my mouth. “You mean …”
“That’s right. It’s at the Guild of Thieves.”
“You’re kidding me.” Then again, it made a certain amount of sense. The Guild House had been cluttered with all sorts of magical items looted from a thousand different places. Grimacing, I added, “This should be interesting. I doubt Gavin is my biggest fan at the moment. That is, if Hela reported what happened between us.”
Davril sheathed his sword, and I immediately missed its brightness. To Walsh, he said, “So. Are we allied, for the moment?”
Walsh inclined his head. “We have an agreement. Until the wardrobe is secured or destroyed, we shall work to thwart Angela and her minions. But I will not forgive your trespass upon my property, nor your burglary. And I know that you seek my death in some misguided quest for revenge, Jade McClaren. In self defense I must end you—if not today, then some day.”
I suppressed a shudder. “Let’s make tracks.”
* * *
I could only vaguely appreciate the beauty of the city as it scrolled by below us. All four of us rode in Lady Kay, with Chromecat following immediately behind. I wasn’t sure how Walsh had arrived at our apartment and he didn’t volunteer the information. Maybe he’d simply teleported there. I wouldn’t put it past him. Either way, he seemed content to ride with us to the Guild House. He and Ruby rode in back, me and Davril in front. Davril, of course, drove.
“This is nuts,” I whispered to him. I didn’t think Walsh could hear us over the sounds of the wind and the city, but I spoke extra softly to be sure.
Davril just nodded. He drove on, silent and grim.
“I guess we’ll have to resume our conversation another time,” I said.
He nodded tightly. Both of us knew now wasn’t the time, but our conversation from earlier was important. The truth about what had happened between Davril and Nevos needed to come out or there could be no trust between us.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Vincent Walsh, my arch-enemy, riding in the backseat! My skin crawled just to be so close to him. I pitied Ruby for having to sit next to him. I couldn’t have done it. I would have started screaming. Fuck that guy.
I sucked in a deep breath, steadying myself.
With all the courage I could summon, I turned in my seat and met Walsh’s gaze. “How did you find us?” I said. When he didn’t answer immediately, I added, “It was the bird, wasn’t it? The bird of fire.”
“It is a construct of mine. I’d given it to some of my … associates.”
“The vampires!” I said. “The vampire women at the Guild of Thieves. They work for you, right? When they saw me and Ruby, they sent that fire bird to track us.”
“Perhaps it was something like that,” Walsh allowed. “After I had chased you into Shadowpark, I set the construct to monitor it for your return to the outside world. It tracked you to your lair and there I confronted you. Satisfied?”
“Why are you so hot for the knob, anyway?” Ruby said. Then giggled. Of course.
Davril’s hands twisted the wheel, and there was an edge to his voice. “Yes, wizard, I would hear this, too. Why were you so set on retrieving this item?”
Walsh sniffed. “Clearly to keep fools like Angela from finding the wardrobe and establishing a direct connection to the Shadow.”
“Why do you care?” I snapped. “You’re as bad as he is!”
Walsh fixed me with a heavy-lidded reptilian gaze. “If that were true, my dear, would you not all be dead by now?”
“Go on,” Davril said, speaking through gritted teeth. “Threaten her again. I dare you.”
Walsh grinned at us nastily but didn’t push the issue.
“Wait,” said Ruby. “Are you an enemy of the Shadow?”
Walsh drew himself up, aloof and remote. “My quest is my own private affair.”
“Fuck that,” I said. “You’ve tried to roast me several times over it, using what might be my own fucking fire. Fuck you. You’ve involved me in this. It’s not private anymore.”
“You involved yourself,” he said, anger seeping into his tone. “You trespassed in my domicile. Stole my property.”
“Which you no doubt stole from someone else, probably killing them in the process. You don’t get to lecture me on morals, asshole.” It was all I could do not to throw myself over the seat and strangle him. I knew the effort would probably get me killed, but I couldn’t help it. My whole body shook with the effort of holding myself back.
Davril seemed to sense it. Slowly, calmly, he said, “Jade.”
“Mm?”
“Get ready. We’re almost there.”
I spared Walsh another angry glare, then faced front again and sat back down. I crossed my arms across my chest.
“Thank you,” Davril said. He hit a few buttons on the console.
“Dispatch,” said a voice.
“This is Lord Stormguard,” said Davril. “Summon the Order of the Shield to arms. Have them rallied and ready to attack in twenty minutes.”
There came a pause. Then, slightly nervously: “Yes, sir. Are you coming here to lead them, or should I send them to a location?”
“Have them ready to assault the Guild of Thieves on my comman
d.”
He gave her the address, and she said, “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.”
He switched off and leaned back, looking reassured. I would have smiled, but I just couldn’t, not with that assmaggot in the back seat. Still, it was pretty awesome to be able to call in an army of Fae Knights when you needed it. Davril flew Lady Kay downtown, right toward the Guild of Thieves, then brought Lady Kay in for a landing. She became invisible as we grew closer to the street, and we jumped down to the side walk the passers-by barely even noticed—all part of her magic.
The Guild House loomed, dark and encrusted with gargoyles, black columns lining its façade. It looked properly mysterious and forbidding, a den of vice and dark magic.
“I don’t get it,” Ruby said. “Why do they even have the wardrobe?”
“They probably don’t even know what it is,” I said. “They have a lot of crap in there.”
Walsh flexed his fingers, and power snapped between them. “Let’s get this over with. I don’t enjoy your company enough to prolong this.”
“I think the feeling’s mutual,” Davril said.
Pleasantries out of the way, we marched across the street and up the dark steps leading into the guild building. I pounded on the huge door, remembering Ruby’s and my first visit here. I doubted this one was going to go much better, but there was always hope. If we could destroy the wardrobe, maybe Angela would just give up and go home.
“What’s in the wardrobe, anyway?” Ruby said, twirling a strand of hair in her fingers.
“The Shadow,” Walsh said ominously.
She frowned at him. “No, I mean are there any clothes in it? Is it empty? I mean, other than Mr. Darkface, or whatever?”
“It is filled with a howling darkness, you fool. A direct connection across dimensions to the one and only Lord Vorkoth.”
“Oh. I only thought it might have some clothes, too.”
No one was coming to the door. I knocked again. Davril nudged me, indicating something behind us. I turned but didn’t see anything, just various people coming and going down the street. Typical New York. Only … wait … not everyone was coming and going, were they? Some were stopped, just standing there on the sidewalks, their faces pointed toward the guild building. Most were rough types, like bikers, but there were some fancifully dressed men and women that might be mages.
