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Lock & Key (King & Crown Book 1)

Page 15

by Clara Coulson


  “Of course,” he continued, “that won’t stop Caoimhe from fucking me over. She’ll wait until she has a job that only I can do effectively, and I’ll have to do it to make good on the contract. If I don’t fulfill the contract terms, you won’t find my body. Namely because I’ll be dragged down into the faerie hill and…let’s leave it at that.”

  Liam had seen people who emerged from faerie hills after breaking deals. They usually looked about ninety regardless of their actual age, and they had absolutely no sanity left inside their shredded minds. He could only pray that whatever Caoimhe ended up asking him to do seemed like a better choice than such a terrible fate. But he had a feeling that her task wouldn’t be far from it. Caoimhe wasn’t a nice person, and she didn’t do nice things unless they benefitted her in not-nice ways. Whatever she forced him into would stain him in a way that wouldn’t come clean.

  Kat pressed her cheek against his own, startling him. “You know, this is exactly what I was afraid would happen if I got close to somebody—that they would get hurt trying to help me.”

  “You sound resigned about it though,” he said tightly, relishing the warm contact of her skin, a contrast to the cold air.

  “Because I know there was nothing I could’ve done to stop you from making the choice you did. The moment I got into your damn Cherokee, this was the inevitable conclusion.” She sighed. “Of all the people I could’ve run into in a McDonald’s parking lot, it had to be an ex-cop with a strong moral center and a penchant for saving damsels in distress.”

  “You’d have rather I been an asshole?”

  “An asshole wouldn’t have made a deal with a dangerous faerie to save me. Now I’m going to be kicking myself every time I look at you.”

  “Please don’t. It was my choice, Kat.”

  “You think that, I’m sure,” she said, almost wistfully, “but it was more a compulsion than you’d like to believe.”

  He wanted to contradict her but couldn’t. She wasn’t wrong. Liam did feel compelled to help people. He always had. He’d just been great at ignoring that compulsion for the last three years, ever since the crash, ever since Hayden and Julia had…He’d been great at ignoring it because he’d been drunk most of the time, and it was hard to hear that nagging voice, the one that told him to do good deeds, when he was totally shitfaced. Thing was, he hadn’t been drunk since Kat showed up. He hadn’t had a single drink since he left the bar the other night, before his PI surveillance at the McDonald’s.

  He hadn’t even thought about drinking since he met Kat.

  Her plight had overridden his constant impulse to drink his memories away, and as a result, all that pent-up desire to help the helpless and fight the villains and save the world…it was rushing back from its long and bitter hibernation. And here he’d thought if he simply drank enough, it would wither away and die. Hah. Wishful thinking.

  “I guess you have me all figured out,” he said at last.

  “If I could figure myself out, I’d feel a lot better.”

  “You’ll get there. I’ll help.”

  He could feel her smile. “Of course you will.”

  They reached the bridge, and Liam hurried across, his heavy footfalls lost to the roar of the water. As they hit the opposite bank and headed up an overgrown walking trail someone had worn into the earth ages ago, the sounds of a dwindling battle came into hearing range. The crackle and boom of lightning strikes. The growl of a fire spell. The screams of men falling to powerful magic.

  It took Liam another ten minutes to get them back to the edge of the forest, the debris-strewn roadway coming into sight. The remaining A9 vans had been destroyed—some were still on fire—rendering the convoy a total loss. Bodies in black dotted the asphalt and the nearby ditches, some of them burned beyond recognition, others broken so badly that even if they hadn’t died, they’d have been permanently disabled. About fifty feet from the remains of the convoy, a small group of the men were still fighting, but between Caoimhe’s henchmen and Yun, the battle had a foregone conclusion.

  “That one’s Kline,” Kat muttered. She lifted a trembling hand, her spine significantly healed now, and pointed to the man at the back of the nine-person group still standing. The man was badly injured, one of his arms broken worse than Liam’s, but he was firing his gun nonetheless and ordering the others to sling everything they had at their opponents.

  “One of the men who’s been leading the hunt for you?” Liam asked.

  “Yeah. I killed the other one when I blew up the van.”

  “Good.”

  “That was my thought too.”

  “And you had every right to think it.”

  As they watched, the four fae men unleashed a barrage of perfectly synched fire spells, and took down four of the A9 goons at once. The victims shrieked as they caught fire and vainly tried to stop, drop, and roll—but magic fires couldn’t be put out that way. So the flesh burned off their muscles, and their muscles melted off their bones, and they screamed until their lungs combusted, and then they died.

  Using the horror of the scene as a distraction, Yun darted out from behind a crumpled van, leaped over the four remaining nameless men, dodged a shot from Kline and slammed her fist into his chest. A violent arc of electricity discharged into his body, and he was flung twenty feet through the air as a deafening roll of thunder shook the ground. He flew like a ragdoll, already dead, his heart probably rendered ash by the bolt, and landed in the middle of a pile of broken van pieces, next to a suspiciously fleshy lump that had probably once been his partner in crime.

  As soon as they realized their boss was dead, the other four men panicked and surrendered. Unfortunately for them, faeries didn’t like the idea of surrender. Neither Liam nor Yun had the chance to stop their “allies” before they launched another volley of fire magic and slaughtered all four men. The last man stopped screaming a minute later, about the time Liam finally managed to get within speaking range, still lugging the half-healed Kat on his back.

  Yun, who stood in the middle of the carnage with a disturbed look on her face, tensed at the sound of his footsteps and whipped around, sparks arcing from her hands. Then she recognized him, and the package he was carrying. “Liam! Kat!” She let her magic dissipate and rushed over. “Are you two okay? What happened to the magician?”

  “Dead,” he said. “A team effort.”

  Liam’s legs were close to buckling from the long trip, so he sank to his knees and let Yun help Kat off his back. Kat was able to stand, but her legs were shaking as badly as his, so Yun walked her off the road and propped her against a tree. Liam followed, hobbling past the smoking remains of all the A9 men, not bothering to hide his disgust from the four half-fae, who were now grouped together and muttering to each other in a language he didn’t speak. He’d wanted help to save Kat, sure, but he hadn’t wanted psychotic killers along for the ride. The bastards had plenty of spells up their sleeves. They could’ve killed their enemies without being sadistic.

  They’d enjoyed inflicting so much pain.

  Shaking his head, he leaned against another tree, close to Kat and Yun, and spoke in low tones. “Think it’d be best if we got back to Salem’s Gate ASAP. This road isn’t well traveled, but that doesn’t mean someone won’t come along soon. Plus, somebody definitely heard the initial van explosion, and your lightning strikes, Yun. There are houses not too far away. The cops are probably already en route.”

  “You’re right, of course.” Yun patted Kat on the shoulder. “You think you can walk a little ways? We parked my truck about a quarter mile back.”

  Kat didn’t acknowledge Yun’s question. Her green eyes were focused intensely on the faerie men, lips parted slightly, like she was putting together some complex puzzle.

  “Kat?” Liam said.

  Kat didn’t look at him either. “Those four were outside Patterson’s.”

  “What?” He glanced at the men. “What do you mean?”

  “What I said. Those four men were outside
Patterson’s. When we went to see Auguste Vanderhall. They were hanging around nearby. They stared. At me.”

  A hole tore open inside Liam’s gut, and he felt for all the world that his intestines were spilling out onto the ground. “I didn’t see them.” He’d scoped out the entire neighborhood around the bar and grill. He hadn’t seen those men. He hadn’t seen anyone suspicious except the usual lowlifes that loitered in the area. He certainly hadn’t seen any fae. He could feel faeries, the same way he could feel other supernatural entities. They didn’t touch his senses the same way normal humans did.

  But if Kat had seen those half-fae near the bar…

  They were veiled, he realized with a start. They were hiding from me. So I wouldn’t see them watching. And Kat’s power saw right through their veil where mine couldn’t, but she didn’t know enough about magic to understand what she was doing. If she had known…But she didn’t. Because I didn’t have the goddamn chance to teach her anything. Christ.

  The hole in his gut grew even wider, and he felt nauseous.

  He and Kat had been ambushed by Marta shortly after they left Patterson’s, and since they’d both been wearing anti-scrying charms, and they hadn’t come across any white vans on the return trip, then that could only mean…Caoimhe had set the whole thing up. Kat hadn’t been naïve enough to fall into her trap, so she’d created a situation that required Liam—who Caoimhe knew was helping Kat—to come to the fae for a deal. With Liam stuck in Caoimhe’s web until she decided to cash in her favor, and with Kat likely to stay by Liam’s side, Caoimhe now had access to Kat, and a way to manipulate her, despite Kat’s dislike of the faerie woman.

  Caoimhe had played him. Perfectly. And now Kat was going to pay a price as well.

  Liam clenched his fists and stifled a growl, throwing a furious look over his shoulder at the men who’d endangered Kat’s life on orders from their boss. All four of them stared back, unconcerned. For good reason. There was nothing Liam could do to them. He wasn’t strong enough to beat four half-fae, even with a full well of magic, and if by some miracle he managed to take them down anyway, more would simply fill their places, and Liam would still fall, and the judge of the Salem’s Gate faerie court would get her way.

  Caoimhe had beaten him.

  For now, he swore to himself. But so help me I will get back at that damn faerie in the end.

  Yun, looking as worried as Liam felt, whispered, “What do we do?”

  Liam held up his hand and flipped off the four faerie bastards behind him. “We go home. Just the three of us. Our ‘friends’ can get their own ride back.”

  16

  Kat

  Kat woke up in Liam’s guest bedroom at half past noon, having slept in for the first time in two years. She found herself snuggled into the warm sheets, a soft blanket tossed over the comforter for good measure, and she spent a few minutes peeking out at the room, wondering who had put her here and when. The last thing she remembered was Liam and Yun helping her into the latter’s huge truck; she must’ve conked out not long after that, drained from the fighting and healing. Liam must’ve carried her up here then—she peered down under the sheets and found she wore pajamas—and hopefully Yun had changed her clothes. Not that she was body shy around men. But still…

  With a short yawn, Kat made herself sit up. Her body didn’t ache at all, which was nice, but she felt a distinct sense of emptiness in her chest, like she was missing something she’d become accustomed to. Her power, it must’ve been. The sensation was diminishing by the second though, so Kat figured her magic would be mostly replenished in another day or two. Wasn’t that how it worked for regular magicians and other beings that wielded magic? She thought so, but she’d have to ask Liam to be sure.

  That reminded her—Liam had been injured as well, and he didn’t heal like she did.

  She climbed out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. After a quick shower to scrub the debris from last night’s “adventure” from her hair and body, she wrapped a fluffy towel around herself and went hunting in the bedroom for some clothes, since Liam hadn’t left any out on the bed or nightstand. To her surprise, she found the entire closet had been stuffed with women’s clothing, and most of it was brand new. Half the pieces still had tags. And it was all pretty fashionable stuff, as far as Kat knew. (She wasn’t exactly up to date on women’s styles, what with the whole fleeing for her life thing.)

  Did Liam get all this, or…?

  Yun. Had to be Yun. She’d probably gotten annoyed when Liam told her Kat had been borrowing old clothes from his ex-wife and had taken it upon herself to rectify the situation. She seemed like the kind of woman who’d do that, from the encounter they’d had at the Thunderbolt. Kat hoped she’d have a chance to get to know Yun better. For a reincarnated god who could strike “heathens” down with lightning bolts, she seemed like a pretty nice person.

  Dried and dressed in her new threads—they fit extremely well, she was pleased to discover—she crept up to the bedroom door and unlatched it, then pressed her ear to the gap to listen. There were people talking in the kitchen, and when she focused on her hearing to sharpen the sense a bit, the voices became clear enough to identify. One was Liam, and the other sounded like Auguste Vanderhall. They were discussing the ploy to send A9 chasing a “ghost” of Kat around the world.

  Oh, I almost forgot about that.

  But now that Marta and the entire army of goons were dead, the ruse might actually play out better. There was no one who worked for Advent 9 left in Salem’s Gate, at least not in a soldier or magician capacity, which meant they’d have to deploy more from their nearest base of operation. By the time the new guys were en route, Auguste would have the fake paper trail in motion, pointing them to some other city, and A9 could very well bypass Salem’s Gate altogether. Which meant no one else here would be in danger from standing in Kat’s immediate vicinity.

  She allowed the tiniest bit of relief to well up inside her. It was too early to tell if this would actually work, but she had hope. It was the closest she’d come to truly dropping off their radar since her initial escape.

  Kat opened the door and slipped out into the hall, padding softly toward the kitchen. She hesitated at the corner, peeking around to find the young vampire seated at Liam’s kitchen table, with Liam leaning against the counter across from him. There were two big vampire guards in the living room—one was Clyde—watching TV and casting occasional glances at the kitchen to make sure their charge wasn’t in danger. Clyde caught Kat in the corner of his eye and turned to look at her, frowning. His eyes were red, which meant he’d drunk blood recently.

  She gave him a little wave and a stiff smile, and he returned his attention to the movie.

  Kat finally stepped into view of the kitchen, revealing Liam in his entirety. He didn’t look as bad as he had the other night, but he wasn’t in great shape either. His arm was in a big cast, and his bruises had come in fully, his face and neck a mess of dark splotches. There were little cuts all over his head, where the glass from the broken windows of his Cherokee had nicked him during the crash. And the nasty laceration he’d had stitched up looked distinctly more swollen. Kat felt a tad guilty that she was walking around painlessly while Liam would spend weeks recovering from this ordeal.

  Liam didn’t seem to mind though. He perked up when she appeared and threw on a smile. “Hey, you’re finally up! How you feeling?”

  Kat shrugged. “Better than you, probably.”

  Liam dipped his head. “Yeah, that’s true. But I imagine you’re hungrier than I am.” He pointed to a large assortment of cardboard food containers spread out across the counter. They had a thunderbolt logo on the front. “Yun swung by and dropped off pretty much all the surplus food from this morning’s breakfast buffet at the café. I’ve got eggs, pancakes, bacon, French toast, regular toast, like six different kinds of jam, and two whole cartons of orange juice in the fridge.”

  Kat’s stomach, which seemed to hear Liam’s words, growled loudl
y, and heat rushed into her cheeks. “I’m sure I won’t eat all of that.”

  “If you don’t,” said Auguste, almost shyly, “I wouldn’t mind some bacon.”

  Liam snorted. “Who wouldn’t?” He grabbed a few plates from a nearby cabinet. “You know, why don’t we just sit down and have brunch while we talk?”

  “Works for me,” Kat said, accepting one of the plates.

  Auguste shrugged. “I don’t have any obligations until this evening. Vampires do like their nocturnal schedules.”

  “Because the sun makes you…itch?” Kat winced. She didn’t know much about vampires, other than the sun didn’t really make them catch on fire. It made them uncomfortable in some way though.

  Auguste smiled, a fang peeking out. “It’s sort of an allergic reaction. We break out in hives if we spend more than a few minutes in the sun without protection. And we get sunburns far more easily than humans.”

  Kat moved over to the food cartons and started heaping eggs and pancakes onto her plate. “Oh, I see. So you wear some special sunscreen or something?”

  “Some of us. Others use charms to counteract the effects. Like the one on your ankle.”

  Ankle?

  She lifted one foot, then the other, finding a thin silver ring etched into the skin of her right ankle, almost like a tattoo. “Uh, Liam?”

  “Oh”—he chuckled as he loaded Auguste’s plate with bacon—“sorry about that. As we were driving back into town last night, I realized I never recovered the anti-scrying bracelet after Marta stripped it off you. So I had to come up with an alternative on the fly, or A9 would’ve been able to track your trip back to the city.” He grabbed a few paper towels. “It’s not a permanent tattoo or anything. It’s silver powder, ground down from one of Yun’s earrings, with the anti-scrying spell embedded in it, along with another spell to help it stay on your ankle. I can remove it later, once I make another bracelet.”

 

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