by E. A. Copen
“Mara,” I said, squeezing her fingers. “Accepting help doesn’t make you weak. Asking for it doesn’t make you a victim.”
She said nothing, instead letting tears fall.
Ed came closer, straining to see around me.
“Make him go away,” Mara said quietly. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“Ed,” I said, turning my head to address him. “Please. Mara needs space.”
Ed looked like I’d just stabbed him. “Mara,” he pleaded. “Please. Let me stay.”
“Get the hell away from me,” Mara growled without looking at him. “And stop looking at me with those…those pity eyes! All of you!” Her voice echoed through the hall. “I don’t need your fucking pity!” She glared at me through her one eye and spat. “I would have rather you left me with the fucking vampire than come to my rescue in front of everybody. You ruined my life. You don’t get to save me. Not again.”
I choked on the words I was trying to get out. Nothing I could say would change things, not now.
“Enough of this,” said Crux from behind me. “Where is Agent Helsinki? I’m tired of waiting. It’s time he held up his end of the bargain.”
“He’s coming,” I assured Crux again and backed out of Mara’s circle. The blue wall sprang up around her and only then did I turn away.
“Where is he?”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
All eyes went to the balcony where Abe stood. He removed his hat and tossed it into the air, running his fingers through wet hair. Then, with one hand, he vaulted over the balcony, landing in a crouch, feet wide apart, supporting his weight on one extended hand. A superhero landing. Abe did a damn superhero landing. If I were Crux, I’d be just a little intimidated, especially after Abe raised his head and flashed a fanged smile as the hat somehow landed back on his head.
“Is that supposed to be impressive?” said Crux, shaking his head.
Abe shrugged and stood, dusting himself off. “I have always wanted to do that. Did you get the priest?”
That last part was directed at me and I nodded, gesturing to Reed, who was standing off to my left. “This is Father Reed.”
Abe gave him a heavy look up and down. “Are you willing to take a confession from a half-blood vampire, priest?”
Reed gripped his book and nodded once, gesturing to the far end of the room where he’d set up two chairs. “That’s my job.”
“Yes, talk to your God,” Crux said, rolling his eyes. “If you haven’t improved since our last bout, you’ll need his help. This time, I won’t let you walk away, half-blood.”
“You two have history, I see,” I said, crossing my arms.
Crux shrugged off his jacket, slid on a pair of thick, leather gloves, drew his sword and began to pace back and forth, eyes glued on Abe while he talked to Reed at the far end of the room. “Where I come from, we don’t allow his kind to live. Any one of the blood who propagates with humans is put down. Humans are for food, not for fucking.” He spat on the ground and then pointed his sword at Abe. “He is a disgrace to all of us. The fact that his fool sister has raised him up to a position as a near equal is an insult. When I kill him, I’ll be righting a wrong.”
“Then why’d you let him live the first time?”
“That was a mistake I’ll soon right.” His angry gaze drifted to me. “And then I will kill your friend. I hope you have said your peace with her.”
“You’re awful sure of yourself, Crux.”
He sliced his sword through the air and practiced a lunge. “I am one of the best swordsman in my family, second only to my younger brother. That abomination lacks the speed and strength to match me, no matter how good he is. He’s prepared to die. Why else would he be giving his confession to the priest?” Crux turned back to watch Abe, a smile playing across his face. “The day is mine. Now, we are just going through the motions.”
Abe stayed with Reed on the far end of the room for a long time, bowing his head several times in prayer and crossing himself while the father spoke. Crux never stopped pacing back and forth. I scanned the place, looking for Creven and coming up empty. He was there, though. Of that, I was certain. It was his magick powering the barriers and he wouldn’t leave Kim at Crux’s mercy, not after giving her his word that he would protect and serve her.
Kim and Robbie both found seats on one of the upper balconies, overlooking the dance floor. She chewed her lip nervously while Robbie cast an unapproving glance downward over crossed arms. I’d already arranged a signal with him should I need him to step in with his fire. Creven was standing by, ready to throw up more barriers if needed. Our hostages were safe and the exits were securely guarded. There was nothing more I could do, I told myself. The rest would have to be up to Abe for now.
After what felt like an eternity, Abe stood and shook hands with Father Reed. Then, he walked over, his face made of stone, and shrugged off his coat and hat, handing both off to me. I placed both on the bottom stair.
“Finally,” Crux mused. “Are you ready?”
“First, the rules of the duel,” said Abe in a sure tone. “This fight is to death or incapacitation. The last one left standing wins the agreed upon purse. Any outside interference from either your people or mine constitutes a forfeit of the duel on the part of the party whose allies have interfered. No magick, wards or other ethereal abilities are allowed. Do you agree to the terms?”
“I agree,” sneered Crux. He swung his sword, extending it out toward Abe. “Let’s get on with it.”
Abe drew his saber and cast the scabbard aside, widening his stance slightly. “Then stand your ground. May the best blood win.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It began as all great sword fights do, with a stare down between Abe and Crux. Crux stood across from Abe, his sword extended out. Abe hung back, keeping the sword closer to his body, unmoving except for the slight shift in his shoulders with his breathing. Behind the blade, a confident, one-fanged smile spread across Crux’s face. The vampire’s sword twitched one way first and then the other, his smile only growing wider when Abe reacted to the false advance with a parry. Abe advanced with a lunge that Crux expertly evaded and then redirected, moving his own sword in a semi-circle. The smile never left Crux’s face. Abe narrowed his eyes.
“The fight is decided,” said a voice quietly beside me.
I turned my head and followed the tall body up to Bran’s face. He stood next to me, his arms crossed, a displeased look on his face. Like the rest of the spectators, he and I had come to stand behind a barrier of overturned cocktail tables, but I hadn’t realized he’d come to stand with me.
“What do you mean?” I asked as I watched Abe take a few steps to the side. Crux turned and took a swing at him. If Abe had been wearing his coat, it would have a good sized slash in it.
“Every battle happens first in the mind and then with the body. The two of them already know the outcome of the fight. Now, they just go through the motions.”
“Who’s going to win?” I expected he would know. After all, the guy carried around a katana. He would know a thing or two about swords and sword fighting.
“Only they know. We will know soon enough.”
I turned my full attention back to the duel. Crux made a strong vertical strike at Abe’s head, but it left his midsection exposed. Abe blocked the downward blow and then raised a foot to deliver a kick to Crux’s gut. Crux stumbled back but didn’t stay there for long. He came back with a forward lunge. Abe smacked it aside and then, in one long step, Abe closed the distance to slam the hilt of his sword against Crux’s nose. Pale blood spurted out, and Crux’s hand went to his nose, coming away covered in pinkish blood. When he lifted his eyes to Abe, who had taken a step back and placed himself on guard for a retaliation strike, they were filled with spite.
The tone of the fight changed drastically. Crux came forward with a furious flurry of blows, all at a speed so fast I could barely p
erceive them. The force of the strikes drove Abe back until he was flat against the banister of the stairs leading up to the entry. Crux gave a decisive swing of the sword and it found a mark even as Abe tried to move away. The curve of the blade drew across Abe on the outside of his sword arm. From where I stood, it was impossible to tell how deep the cut was or how badly he was injured, but I knew he wasn’t going to be swinging a sword around with his arm anymore, not effectively.
Instead, Abe lowered his head and charged into Crux, knocking both of them to the ground. When Crux’s shoulder hit, the loud, unmistakable crack of bone breaking echoed through the room. Crux’s sword skittered across the floor and away from his useless arm. Abe drew his left hand back in a fist and pummeled Crux in the face, abandoning his sword in favor of fists.
I didn’t realize anything was wrong until Abe drew back his fist a second time and paused, a shockwave of movement reverberating through his whole body. I broke into a run, circling the barricade to get a better look at Abe. He was on top of Crux, frozen, fist balled, blood gushing down his other arm, eyes unfocused. Crux had a fist pressed against Abe’s chest, dead center. When I looked really hard, I could see there was a silver grip in his hand, the blade attached to it buried somewhere in Abe’s chest. With a jerk, the vampire twisted the blade. Abe blinked once and then, with a small shove from Crux, fell to the side, limp and unblinking on the floor.
The room was silent. Cold air prickled at the back of my neck and the hairs on my arms stood on end as Crux fought to untangle himself from Abe’s long limbs. He’d lost. Abe had lost. The good guys aren’t supposed to lose. Abe may have been a fanged prick but he was still a good guy, which meant he was supposed to win, didn’t it? What now?
I swallowed and closed my eyes. There was a backup plan in place. Several, in fact. But the giant hadn’t made an appearance as I had suspected it would, and neither had Creven’s Unseelie necromancer. Those two had been my backup. I’d bet at least one of them would have made an appearance. Now that Abe was down, there was nothing stopping Crux from killing Mara.
Nothing, I realized, except the truth.
As Crux pulled out a handkerchief and began cleaning a few spots of blood on his suit with his remaining good arm, I vaulted over the barrier of overturned tables and knelt by Abe. His eyes were open, his breathing shallow. Blood poured out from his wounds, forming a halo around his head. But he wasn’t dead, not yet.
“Now, you will honor our deal,” said Crux, tossing the handkerchief to the floor.
I stood slowly. “No.”
“No?” said Crux, his voice high and nasal. “What do you mean no?”
I turned. “You let Mara go.”
“The girl owes me a blood debt.”
“She didn’t kill Harry,” I shouted, anger filling my chest like a hot balloon. Then, I pointed at Sven. “He did.”
A wicked smile spread over Crux’s face. “I know.”
My brain stopped working. My lungs froze, waiting for things to reboot, and my heart skipped a beat. For just a second, as something icy slipped down into my chest, I knew exactly how Abe had felt when Crux stabbed him. But, being as eloquent as I am, all I could manage to say was a confused, “What?”
Crux’s smile shifted effortlessly into a sneer. “I know!” he screamed, swiping his good arm through the air. “Of course I know that stupid oaf murdered my cousin. But I can’t very well kill him for it. He’s got half a brain. Where’s the satisfaction in that? No, he did it for this little cunt.” He pointed at Mara.
“Don’t say that,” said Sven, standing from the seat he’d been sitting in inside his barrier. “That’s mean.”
Crux ignored him, preferring to address Mara. “Do you still think you’re better than us? Too good for the Stryx? Now that we’ve had our fun I bet you don’t. No one rejects a Stryx and goes on to speak about it.”
I stepped between Crux and Mara, breaking his stare. “If you think I’m handing her over for you to kill, deal or no deal, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“There are other ways of collecting on a debt. I know the value of something when I see it, and a girl who can call up the dead and let them speak through her…” He shook his head, pacing back and forth like a panther stalking a rabbit. “That’s valuable. Perhaps not to me but there were plenty of interested buyers. Didn’t your elf friend tell you how useful she’d be to my partner?”
“Your…partner?”
“Seamus’d never work with the likes of you,” said Creven. He appeared in a shimmer from nowhere, using the same trick he’d used at Kim’s estate to hide himself. This time, though, he showed up right behind Crux, swinging his staff like a club. The bulbous end of it struck Crux in the head, sending him sprawling out on the floor. Crux scrambled away and stood as Creven lowered the staff, adding, “He can’t be a strong candidate for king if he can’t protect his own people. Word gets out you’re selling fae behind his back, bleedin’ them dry for profit, how d’ya think he’ll feel about his partner? It’ll look like Seamus’ hands are just as bloody as yours. He’d lose the few supporters he so desperately needs to stake his claim.”
“That’s an unrelated business transaction,” stammered Crux, backing away from Creven. “It doesn’t concern him.”
Creven closed on Crux. “He didn’t seem to think that was the case when last we spoke, Seamus and I.”
“You lie!”
“Do I?”
Crux kept backing up, stopping only when he felt the cold steel of my gun pressed against the back of his head. Then, he raised his one functional arm. “You would shoot me in the back of the head, agent? What about Stryx retaliation? Do you know what my father could do to your precious little town?”
“That fact is the only reason you’re still alive,” I said and kicked him in the back of the knees. “Get on your knees, you scheming ass monkey.”
Crux went down. I unhooked a pair of silver handcuffs from my belt. There wasn’t much I could hold him on, not for long, anyway. BSI would insist he be released and return to his home country. I could, however, keep him from hurting Mara so long as he was in custody. As for Sven, I could deal with him later. After everything I’d seen, I was sure I could make a convincing argument Crux had no right to his property. It looked like there was a way to salvage the situation after all. “Creven, you can lower the barriers now. I think we’re done here.”
As I gripped Crux’s limp arm and brought it around to cuff it to the other one, there was a loud bang upstairs. All eyes went to the empty balcony.
“Was that a gunshot?” asked Ed from behind me.
“No,” I answered.
Gunshots have a distinct sound. Once you’ve heard it once, you never forget what it sounds like. This noise wasn’t from a gun. It was a very different kind of thundering boom, but it was one I’d heard before. I finished putting the cuffs on Crux, making sure they were extra tight. The loud, thundering noise happened again, this time, close enough to shake the floor.
Creven came to stand beside me.
“Is that who I think it is?” I asked him.
“Aye,” he said and then glanced behind him at Abe’s still body. “Looks like the giant finally decided to join the party.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“So, what’s the plan, lass?”
“Why’s it even here?” I turned to check on Mara. She looked like she’d passed out at some point. With as many blows as it looked like she’d taken, I wasn’t surprised. She needed medical attention and soon. “Mara’s not even in danger.”
As soon as I turned, Crux found his feet and stumbled away and over to where Sven was waiting. Sven grabbed his master and, with a mighty yank, jerked the cuffs apart, freeing Crux’s hands. Then, the vampire turned and pointed at me. “Kill Agent Black,” he ordered. “And then kill yourself.”
Something in Sven’s face changed and his whole body stiffened before he lumbered out toward me. In a blur of supernatural
ly fast movement, Crux sped across the room, gabbed an unconscious Mara and jerked her away from the table, dragging her toward the exit. Several bikers stepped in his way, but I didn’t have time to stand and watch as they brandished weapons in their attempt to stop the vampire from cutting out early. I had to deal with Sven.
Like a charging bull, Sven came across the dance floor, head tucked and low, strangely fast for such a big guy. He barreled into both Creven and I, taking us down with a tackle before either of us could get a spell off. When my back hit the floor, all the air went out of me. My field of vision shrank to a pinprick where a whole army of stars danced. When my sense finally came back, I realized the stars were splinters of wood and Creven’s staff had broken when he threw it over my face, protecting me from a skull shattering punch. But, now that it was broken, there was nothing stopping Sven’s fist as it got bigger and bigger, closing in on my face.
Out of instinct, I threw a hand up and pumped what I like to call panic magick into it. Panic magick isn’t anything particularly sophisticated. It’s crude, the source often an intense fear of dying. When magick comes from primal instinct, it’s often more powerful but also more unpredictable.
I caught Sven’s fist just inches from my nose. The shockwave of impact reverberated up my arm in an aching wave and broke my concentration on the spell. My strength gave way. Sven must have been surprised because he didn’t try to pull any of the weight from behind the punch. When my arm gave way, his went crashing down and him with it. He would have landed on me full force if I someone hadn’t yanked me back. And it was a good thing, too, because a big foot came crashing down on beside where Sven landed. I found myself scooting away from the backside of a giant.
Creven jerked me back further. “I’m bloody worthless without a focus,” he complained, lifting up the broken end of his staff. “So I hope you’ve got a plan for dealing with this, lass.”
