Burnt Silver

by H A Titus

  "Fine." Banshee flicked open the kit and tossed a pack of gauze to me. "Your head's bleeding."

  I raised my hand to my temple. Sure enough, my hair was sticky with blood. Must've been where Shaughnessy had clocked me with the gun. I pressed the gauze to the cut and winced.

  "Let's check to make sure you don't have a concussion," Tadhg said, turning on his flashlight. He shone the light in my eyes, frowning.

  "Sorry again," Eliaster offered.

  I shrugged it off, trying not to think about it. One more thing to worry over. One more flashback I'd probably have tonight. Vines glimmered again in the edges of my vision, and I squeezed my eyes shut. That had been glamour. I'd actually seen it this time.

  And I'd shattered it.

  What was going on?

  CHAPTER 16

  ELIASTER

  "You need to let me wrap those ribs."

  I looked up at Banshee and scowled. "I'm fine."

  She sat back and matched my scowl. "Fine. Be that way." She got up and walked away, leaving the medical kit open on the ground.

  I hunched over, pressing my arm against my side and trying not to focus on the throbbing pain. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Josh giving me worried glances as Tadhg examined the wound on his head, then flicked a flashlight beam over Josh's eyes. Why was he so worried? It was just a couple of cracked ribs. I was the one who was supposed to worry about people, and Josh? Josh didn't look great. Blood matted his hair, and a bruise was already starting to spread down his temple. The part that really worried me, though, was how pale Josh looked, and how he'd become quiet, withdrawn. He'd taken down Shaughnessy. Cíorru air, he should be crowing about it. But he wasn't. Something had sent him into a tailspin.

  "You okay?" I asked him again.

  He shot me an annoyed look. "There's nothing that I want to discuss right now."

  I raised an eyebrow. So there was something, but he didn't want Tadhg to overhear it. "Sure. Sorry for asking," I grumbled back.

  I glanced around the factory. Adam and Banshee stood near the bay doors, in an intense discussion. I spotted a few other flashlights throughout the factory, searching for any of Shaughnessy's gang who might have escaped capture.

  Shaughnessy and three of his men were lined up against the wall near the bay doors, kneeling, their hands bound behind them. Only one guard with a gun watched them. I recognized him from when Tadhg had stormed our hotel room. Brayan, I thought.

  Across the factory, I locked eyes with Shaughnessy. A slow smirk curled the corner of his mouth.

  Rage burst like a fireball inside my chest. I curled my hands into fists. I couldn't remember anything that had happened in the last half hour, and it was his fault. It was Shaughnessy's fault that I'd hurt one of the only people I truly trusted.

  My mind drifted back to the moment. The glamour snaking down the stairway after me, the sudden sharp pain as it filtered into my brain.

  I hated that chunk of missing time.

  I'd been monumentally stupid.

  Enslavement relics. Shaughnessy had given them to goblins to use on slaves. Other fae. Humans. And now me. And he'd been talking to Larae about a pathstone.

  My eyes fell on the weapons someone had brought up from downstairs. My knife, blood on the blade, sat on top. I grabbed it, tucked it flat against my arm where it wasn't readily visible, and stood. Crossed the room to where Shaughnessy and his cronies sat. The fae guarding them eyed me curiously, but didn't say anything.

  I crouched down in front of Shaughnessy and stared at him, gritting my teeth. Just give me a reason to shove this into your gut. Please, give me a reason.

  After a second, he chuckled. "Think you're gonna stare me to death?"

  "Nah," I replied. "I wanted to see what kind of idiot thought it would be a good idea to deal in the black market these days. Especially with the curators cracking down on that kind of stuff."

  Shaughnessy straightened, leaned forward. "I'm not scared of a bunch of damn humans who think they can order the fae around." He glanced over my shoulder, in Josh's direction. "Crow-eaten pieces of—"

  I whistled, calling his attention back to me. Then I punched him in the face.

  Shaughnessy's head bounced off the wall behind him, and he crumpled to the ground. The room exploded into shouts. I ignored them. I stood, grabbed Shaughnessy's ankle, and dragged him away from the others. He kicked, tried to struggle away from me, but his foot slipped on the concrete floor.

  The rage still burned in my chest, but I tamped it down, condensed it until it burned like ice. I stepped forward, put my foot on Shaughnessy's throat, and pressed down. He froze, staring up at me, his eyes pinwheeling with the dark colors of fear, hatred, anger. I glared back, using his rage to stoke my own. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knee, and twirled the knife in my hand. He watched the blade. I kept most of my weight on my back foot—I didn't want to kill him. Yet.

  "So tell me about these relics," I said quietly.

  "What about them?" Shaughnessy croaked.

  "Who you sold them to. Who you talked to about some of the more valuable ones. Who your boss was. Just simple things, really."

  Shaughnessy spat. The bloody spray hit the side of my leg. I rolled my eyes and straightened, leaning more weight on his throat. He choked and started kicking. I could feel the others staring at me, but I avoided their looks and glanced over my shoulder at the rest of the prisoners.

  One, dark-haired with a scar that slashed across his right ear, stared at the floor and wouldn't meet my eyes. The other two stared at me—the younger with a sort of horrified panic. The third prisoner suddenly lurched to his feet. The guard yelled at him to sit back down, right before the fae slammed his shoulder into the guard's stomach and rushed straight at me.

  I shifted my foot off Shaughnessy and stepped to the side, trying to get out of the guy's way, but the distance was too short and he slammed into me. We both went down. I howled in pain and flailed, shoved him away, then his weight suddenly disappeared.

  I rolled to my feet in time to see Banshee slam my attacker into the ground. Without hesitating, she pulled her gun and shot him in the temple.

  The shot echoed loudly in the space, and I flinched, instantly feeling sick. Too far, too far. I leaned over, pressing my palms to my knees. Trying to catch my breath.

  "Crazy raicleach." Shaughnessy half-sat up, staring at Banshee, eyes darkening. "What was the point of that?"

  She ignored him and stepped in front of the youngest fae. She grabbed his chin and forced him to look her in the eyes. "How old are you, kid?"

  He seemed to shrink. "Nineteen."

  "That your big brother?" she asked, jerking her head at the other one. "Real stupid of him to bring his little kid brother on a job like this, huh? Even if you are Unseelie."

  That got a reaction from both of the fae. The older fae started cursing her out, and the kid's eyes flashed. "We're not a part of any stupid court! Why do you think we have a job like this?"

  I winced. Vagrants. Fae who refused to join a court—or had both courts reject them. Not an easy life.

  "Danos, shut up!" Shaughnessy roared at him.

  "Oh, you're talking again. Fantastic," I growled. "Shut up or I'll smash your teeth in." I turned to the kid. "Start talking. Now."

  Banshee put her fingers under Danos's chin and turned his head back toward her. "Listen, you heard Eliaster," she said smoothly. "And while I'd much rather prefer to give everyone another facial orifice, I'm willing to let you have another chance before taking such a drastic move again. You're not going to disappoint me, are you?"

  Danos cleared his throat and said in a hoarse whisper, "There's a guy in St Louis. I've only met him once, I only started working with my brother a few weeks ago." He paused, glancing over at his brother again.

  "You gave your word!" his brother snarled. "Keep your mouth shut, you little bastard!"

  "Funny thing about that," I commented. "People usually don't understand how much pain they can
experience before death."

  Danos shot me a glance, eyes wide. Banshee raised her eyebrows and tapped her gun barrel against Danos's arm.

  Danos cleared his throat again. "Henry Blair. He's a curator."

  Behind me, I heard Tadhg grunt in surprise. I stiffened. "A curator? Are you sure?"

  Danos kept his eyes on Banshee's gun, cringing away from it. "He never said for sure, but it makes sense—getting his hands on all this old stuff. And he talked about the museum up in Michigan. "

  She nodded. "He's Shaughnessy's boss? Your boss?"

  "The curator has a boss, but we're not a part of that. He just sends extra stuff here, stuff he thinks won't be missed. Shaughnessy hired us to sort through it all."

  "Who is the curator's boss?"

  "I don't know."

  Banshee Cheshire-cat grinned, leaning a little closer to the fae's face.

  Danos drew his shoulders up, cringing away from her. "I swear on all the aingeals in heaven, I don't know who is in charge! We're not important enough to know. My brother and I are surface vagrants. We just do this job to get paid and keep out of people's way."

  I felt a little sorry for the kid. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and glanced down at the floor.

  "You're dead, kid. You know that? We're all dead," Shaughnessy snapped.

  "Don't count me in on this!" Danos's brother protested. He looked at Banshee. "I don't care if you kill him or not, but leave me out of it!"

  Danos stared at his brother, eyes wide in shock.

  "Welcome to reality, where everyone wants to kill you sooner or later," Banshee told him. She stood and faced Tadhg. "I think we're done here."

  Without a word, Tadhg motioned to Adam and Brayan to grab the two fae.

  Banshee paused beside me. "I was right," she said in a low tone.

  "What?" I snapped.

  "You have gone soft."

  # # #

  The ride back to Keelin's house was quiet. Since Tadhg and Adam's SUVs held the prisoners, we got to ride with Banshee. I just curled up in the backseat, nursing my ribs and trying to ignore the ache. I could practically feel the tension between Josh and Banshee, though.

  If Josh didn't yell at me about this later, I'd know something was wrong for sure.

  Banshee pulled into the driveway of the safe house, parking away from the front door to give Tadhg's SUV room. The black vehicle pulled between ours and the house.

  I shoved my door open.

  "You sure you're okay for this?" Josh asked. "You could wait here. I can take care of it."

  "Mother hen," I grumbled, sliding from the car. It hurt to stand upright, but I did anyway, pressing my elbow in against my ribs. I went around to the back of the car, where Josh and I had thrown our more casual clothes, and popped open the hatch. As I grabbed my bundle of clothes, the external hard drive from Shaughnessy's house slipped from my jacket pocket and fell to the gravel driveway.

  Before I could lean down, Banshee crouched and grabbed it.

  I froze, locking eyes with her. She turned the hard drive over in her hand. For a split second, I was afraid that she was going to call Tadhg over. Instead, she slipped it back into the bundle of clothes and winked at me before sauntering away.

  "Okay, you should probably stop staring at her now," Josh said in a low voice beside me.

  "Blaming the pain meds," I muttered.

  He smirked. "Have you had any pain meds?"

  I shoved the plastic bag of his clothes into his chest. "Shut up, nerd."

  Keelin stepped from the house. In the dim evening light, it was hard to see his exact expression. The doors to the SUV popped open. Tadhg went around to the back and hauled Shaughnessy out of the vehicle, one hand clenched tight on Shaughnessy's arm, the other yanking his head back to what looked like an uncomfortable angle.

  Shaughnessy caught sight of Josh and lunged at him.

  I darted in front of Josh. Shaughnessy's fist connected with my gut and I grunted as a shock of pain lanced through my side. I dug my feet into the gravel and shoved the fae back, grabbing his collar. Then I twisted until it cut into his neck. "Back off."

  Shaughnessy didn't even try to fight, but he glared past me at Josh, eyes burning with a dark fever. His teeth bared in a feral grin. "Mortals who dabble in fae affairs die, human. You're playing with power you cannot hope to understand. Just remember that when the Wild Hunt comes for you and shreds the flesh from your bones."

  "I've faced a sluagh and lived," Josh said steadily. "I think I can handle the Wild Hunt."

  I couldn't help but grin. Yeah, he probably could, against all odds.

  Shaughnessy laughed.

  Keelin stepped closer to Shaughnessy. Adam reached out, putting a hand in front of his employer, but Keelin brushed it aside. He looked Shaughnessy up and down, and his lips curled in disgust. "How did a gan ainm like you get hold of a powerful relic?"

  Shaughnessy looked at him, eyes flashing. He started to say something, but his jaw stayed locked in place, the muscles of his face trembling. His eyes went wide. "I—I—" The muscles of his jaws tensed, forcing his mouth closed.

  Tadhg stepped back, eyes going wide. "He's under an oath of silence."

  "Genius deduction," I muttered. How did I miss this back in the factory?

  Keelin stared at Shaughnessy for a moment longer, his eyes flickering. "It must be a powerful oath to affect him like this." He jerked his head to the side. "Banshee, take this scum away."

  "Wait!" Shaughnessy tried to squirm free of my grip. "What are you doing with me? You saw what happened. I can't tell you anything!"

  "You'll pardon me for wanting to ensure it's the real deal," Keelin said drily.

  Shaughnessy's eyes bulged. He swung his arm wildly. His elbow nearly caught Tadhg in the face. Tadhg grabbed Shaughnessy's arm, digging his fingers in just above Shaughnessy's elbow. Banshee stepped in to help, and I let go of Shaughnessy's collar. Together, Tadhg and Banshee dragged Shaughnessy around the corner of the house.

  Keelin waited until they'd disappeared before speaking. "You two look like you got dragged through a meat grinder. Care to explain how that happened?"

  I glanced over at Josh, but before we could answer, Adam spoke up.

  "One of his relics was a stuíur ring, sir." The fae held the ring out to Keelin.

  Keelin flexed his fingers, and a thin layer of glamour appeared over his skin, fitting like a glove. He accepted the ring and held it up to the light, rolling his thumb and forefinger around the ring as he studied the ogham carved into the gem. His lips compressed into a thin line. "Where did he find something like this? Cuimhní, I could understand. Perhaps even some glamoured pendants for human lovers. But this …"

  "Things like that exist?" Josh muttered under his breath.

  Keelin shot him a sharp look. "Do you understand why everyone is so worried about a human becoming so involved? Those are not items with strong glamour, and yet humans fall for them all the time."

  Josh glanced away

  "Did you find any other relics?" Keelin asked.

  I chewed the inside of my lip, considering telling Keelin that I planned to turn over the ones I'd found to the curators. But I doubted Keelin would allow that. I didn't want to push it tonight, not after everything we'd just gone through. Besides … Banshee already knew about them, so it wasn't like I could bluff my way out of it.

  I pulled the box from my jacket pocket and held it out. "This is what Banshee and I recovered from his apartment. I'd send someone to clean it up, if I were you—there was a rather messy altercation with a goblin."

  Keelin took the box and grunted. "Well, I suppose it's what I get for hiring loose cannons."

  Was he referring to me, or Banshee, or both? I swallowed back the sarcastic words pushing at my tongue.

  "We'll send these to the curators as soon as possible," Keelin informed Adam, handing him the box and the ring.

  "Do you mind if we take a couple of the relics back to Missouri?" Josh asked. "We have someone w
ho is interested in studying them."

  "Roe Gillam, you mean?"

  Josh blinked. "You know her?"

  "I know of her, and her theories about the greater relics, including the pathstones." Keelin snorted. "Mind you, a few weeks ago, I would've said finding something like this ring was impossible. Regardless, I'm not about to let these out of my sight."

  I crossed my arms. "Especially to someone I associate with, is that it?"

  Keelin glared. "Get the chip off your shoulder. This is about sidhé surviving in the real world, Eliaster, not running around pretending this is still our history. Humans don't want us to save them—they want to live comfortably in their small existence, happy to pretend we don't exist."

  I stepped closer to him.

  Keelin raised his chin. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adam tense.

  "I hope this means we're even." I poked him hard in the chest.

  "As far as I'm concerned, we need never speak again."

  I smirked and stepped back, raising my hand in a mocking half-salute. "Just take care you can weather the oncoming storm, Keelin. I'd hate to see you break." I turned and walked toward the car. "C'mon, Josh."

  "Don't take this as a future license to act in my territory, Eliaster Tyrone," Keelin said. "If I ever see you here without my permission, I'll have O'Breigh—"

  "Yeah, yeah, you'll go running to my da and have O'Breigh slap me with a binding or whatever," I snapped as I climbed into the car. "I get it. Far be it from a screw-up like me to try to save the world." I slammed the car door.

  A minute later, Josh climbed into the driver's seat. "Home?" he asked quietly.

  I nodded, gritting my teeth. I waited until we'd pulled out of the driveway before slamming my fist into the car window. "Stupid idiot."

  To his credit, Josh didn't even flinch. "It's easier to bury your head in the sand than accept that there might be trouble. I tried, remember?"

  "Yeah, but the difference is that you accepted the evidence and came to a conclusion," I muttered. "Everything is right in front of Keelin's nose, and he won't even accept that there's a problem until it's too late. Look at what happened with Shaughnessy and the goblins. That man is going to lose his territory to some scheming Unseelie because he refuses to acknowledge danger until it's eating him alive."