Dammit.
“Someone’s coming,” she said.
James wrapped his arm around Mercy’s waist and tried to whisk her to the street before the portal could open completely, but her legs buckled. He held her tight as her face went pale.
“I-It’s Flint,” she said—as though there was ever any doubt. That bastard always had the worst timing. “I can hear him in my head.”
James ground his back teeth. Why were Flint’s thoughts making it through? Geoffrey’s shielding spell should’ve protected her. Maybe it was starting to wear off. Or maybe someone on the other side of the portal was diffusing its power.
The why wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was ensuring Mercy’s safety…and there was only one real way to do that.
James turned around to see the spinning wind coalescing into an oblong point. A blue light shone, growing from the size of a stone to a doorway in seconds. He tapped his hand against his pants pocket. The outline of the wyvern pin was clear under his fingers. Now all he needed to do was get it—and himself—through that opening.
James propped Mercy’s back up against the wall behind him. She slid down a few inches the moment he let go, but she managed to catch herself before hitting the pavement. He bit his lip. She was growing weaker by the second. He needed to end this now.
“Don’t say a word this time,” he said to her. “I can beat Flint on my own.”
“But—”
“You have to trust me, sweetheart,” he said, cupping her face with his hands. “Tell me you trust me.”
She hesitated, fear showing through her pained expression, but, eventually, she nodded.
“Thank you,” James said. “Everything is going to be just fine. I promise.”
He leaned in and laid a quick kiss on her trembling mouth. He barely had enough time to square his shoulders before Flint emerged from the portal. This time three of Oberon’s soldiers followed.
James glanced behind him at the city street. It was empty…for now. Of course, that could change in an instant. He hated the thought of some poor soul wandering by getting caught up in their fight.
And there was about to be one hell of a fight. Flint and his soldiers weren’t going to let him go easily.
The fae guards took a defensive position behind their commander, holding their halberds at the ready.
Weapons, James mused. Flint had learned from their last clash.
Apparently, not enough though. His former friend was going to need a lot more soldiers than this to stop him. A smarter man would have doubled his forces, tripled them, even. But Flint had returned with only one additional man. Which meant he was either overly confident of their abilities, or Oberon wasn’t willing to trust him with more resources. Either way, Flint had made a major mistake.
“Hook,” the bastard said, taking a step forward. “You’re a surprisingly easy man to find in this world. After our last encounter, I thought you’d have holed up somewhere my magicians couldn’t see.”
James’ hands curled into fists at his side. “No need to hide if you’re not afraid.”
Flint laughed, the tinny sound bouncing off the close walls of the alley. “You always had more guts than sense, Hook.”
A slow smile spread over James’ face. “And you never had a drop of either.”
Flint pulled his shoulders back. A flash of anger lit his eyes. He tried to school his features back into a mask of cool authority, but he couldn’t quite manage it. Rage bubbled through the quivering lines bracketing his mouth and eyes.
“Seize him,” Flint ordered the soldiers, his voice shaking with fury. “I want him alive when we kill the girl.”
Mercy let out a shallow squeak of fear behind him, but quickly cut it off.
Good. She did trust him. At least for the moment. And now he had to do everything in his power to deserve that trust…and set her free.
The first fae broke from position, dropping his halberd to waist level as he approached. James took the opportunity. He rushed forward, waiting until he was only a few feet away before he dropped to the ground and slid along the dirty alley floor. The soldier swung his blade in a wide arc, but it was too late. James was already far underneath. He lifted his leg and let the momentum of his body crash his boot heel deep into the soft hollow beneath the soldier’s knee. A sickening pop sounded as the fae crumpled to the ground.
James swept out his hand and grasped the staff of the soldier’s discarded blade before jumping back up to his feet. One quick bash against the back of the fae’s head with the butt end, and the lights went out in the guard’s eyes.
There. Now he was armed too. Flint and his men gaped at him with wide eyes. Apparently, none of them had come into this hoping for a fair fight.
Typical.
James lowered the weapon down into a defensive position. “Who’s next?”
He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as Flint and his men froze, standing stone still.
That’s what he thought.
Flint recovered first, learning from his last mistake, he sent both men after James at once. They came at him from either side, one swinging his halberd high while the other attacked low. It was a decent strategy, and one that would have been effective in an open battlefield, but in the cramped confines of the alleyway, the move was useless.
James spun the long staff of his weapon in a semi-circle, both ends barely whistling past the narrow walls and easily catching both hooked blades in one move. With a hard twist, the weapons flew from the soldiers’ hands and clattered to the pavement.
James didn’t give them a chance to recover. He held the halberd in front of him as he rushed forward, ready to push both fae back to the portal. If he timed it right, he’d be able to swipe the blade across Flint’s belly before they crashed through together. If he got really lucky, he could gather enough force to cleave the bastard in two.
But luck had abandoned him.
James didn’t make it two steps before a weak cry echoed in the alley, followed by the heavy stomp of footsteps. His momentum faded as he instinctively glanced back at Mercy. Her back had slid another few feet down the wall. She was only inches away from the ground.
But more importantly, someone was rushing toward her.
Someone big. Massive.
James recognized the man’s shape even before his face emerged from the shadows.
Fenrir.
The last thing he needed right now was the wolf’s help. Any fool could see that he wasn’t having any trouble taking this small force down alone. The only thing James couldn’t do was jump through the portal with Fenrir holding him back…and given the way the beast’s eyes narrowed on James’ face, Fenrir knew what he had planned.
James let out a sharp hiss as something sharp sliced across his cheek. But the pain didn’t stop. It grew and grew with every heartbeat. Doubling, then doubling again, until the scratch felt like a cut to the bone.
Fae steel.
James snapped back to the fight as thick heat coursed down the side of his face.
Dammit.
All it had taken was a momentary lapse in his concentration for both fae guards to pull out their razor sharp daggers. The blade on his right already dripped with blood. James pulled back hard as the other soldier sliced his dagger, ready to give him a matching scar on the left.
“Get Mercy out of here,” James called out to Fenrir, as he continued to battle the soldiers in front of him. “I have this under control.”
“The hell you do,” Fenrir growled, barreling forward.
James cursed under his breath, but quickly dropped the staff before Fenrir slammed into the soldier on the left, cracking his head hard against the wall. The sound echoed down the alley.
James grasped the hand holding the dagger of the remaining fae and, using the full force of his weight, snapped the man’s bones. The soldier’s hand opened the moment his wrist broke, and James quickly snatched the falling dagger out of the air. He slid it across th
e guard’s cheek in one continuous movement. The fae howled in pain, his hands covering the wound. James seized the moment to lift his boot and send the soldier flying back through the open portal. A second later, Fenrir’s dazed opponent followed.
Once they were taken care of, James turned his attention back to Flint. The coward was inching back toward the safety of the vortex. James’ jaw clenched. The bastard was going to live another day.
Flint opened his mouth. “You will—”
“Pay for this,” James finished for him. “I know.”
“You don’t know a damn thing,” Flint shot back, a look of pure malice glistening in his eyes, along with a healthy dose of fear. “The king has doubled his retinue of court magicians. He knows everywhere you’ve been. Every move you’ve made. And now he can open portals twice as fast. No matter where you go, you’re a dead man.”
“That’s what you said last time. And yet here I stand,” James said, allowing a cruel, blood-smeared smile to spread across his face. “You, on the other hand, now have to crawl back and explain to your king why you failed to carry out his orders…again.”
Flint’s whole face tightened in rage. “I’ll kill you myself, Hook.”
“Promises. Promises,” James taunted as Flint took the final step back into the mystic void.
That made three through. The portal still swirled bright, waiting for the fourth.
James’ last chance to make his escape.
He and Fenrir both glanced down at the unconscious body of the last guard at the same time. James tensed. Maybe if he ran flat out, he could make the opening before Fenrir could stop him.
Fenrir lifted his gaze to James’ face. A dark warning shone in his eyes.
Then again, maybe not.
Before James could react, Fenrir bent down and swooped up the limp guard by a single arm and leg. In one easy motion, he tossed the fae the length of the alley and straight into the heart of the portal.
A hundred curses rang out in James’ mind as he watched the swirling vortex blink out of existence.
At least he didn’t have to listen to them long. A second later, a weak moan sounded behind him. James swiveled around.
Mercy.
He rushed toward her without another thought, dropping down to his knees the moment he was beside her. He lifted a hand to her cheek.
She felt hot. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Even her lips looked dry and chapped.
Dammit.
“Everything’s all right,” he said. For the first time in his life James wasn’t sure if he was lying or praying. “It’s all over.”
She turned her head his way, but it took an extra second for her eyes to focus on his face. When they finally did, her jaw dropped open.
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
James shook off her concern. “It’s nothing.”
“No.” Her voice grew stronger. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Besides, I’ve been told I rely too much on my good looks. Maybe this will change all that.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she said, with a feeble smile. “After all, everyone knows chicks dig scars.”
“Good to know,” he said. A part of him wanted to laugh, to prove to both of them that the situation wasn’t as serious as he feared, but he couldn’t fake the lighthearted emotion.
He was scared. Even now the magic was burning dangerously bright inside her. She was lucky to be alive.
James had no idea how long that luck would hold. He could keep her from communicating with Hades. Dissuade her from using her anger as a weapon. But he couldn’t do anything to stop the energy that poured into her every time a portal opened.
Of course, if Flint was right and Oberon had doubled the number of court magicians, then there was no telling when they’d be ready to open another portal. It could be a matter of minutes. They didn’t have any time to waste.
James slid his arm around Mercy’s back and helped her to her feet. Her legs wobbled under the strain of standing, but he easily bore her weight.
“I need to get her out of here,” James said, turning toward Fenrir.
A guarded look shone in the wolf’s eyes. “Back to your apartment?”
James shook his head. “Geoffrey may have warded the building against portals and prying eyes, but that won’t do us much good if Flint springs up outside and bashes in the door.”
Fenrir narrowed his gaze. “And what would you do if he did?”
“I’d fight him off,” James answered carefully. “Again.”
Open skepticism showed on Fenrir’s face.
So, the wolf had seen him eyeing the portal. Not only had he seen it, he’d known.
James silently cursed. He didn’t need to ask why Fenrir just happened to be nearby when James had needed a hand. Someone had sent the wolf to follow him. Someone who didn’t trust him.
Merlin.
Gauging the hard edge in Fenrir’s eyes, the magician wasn’t the only one who didn’t trust his intentions.
“We need to get moving,” James said, hoping to avoid any more questions. He looked at Mercy. “Can you walk?”
He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up like he had back on the trail, but carrying her would create too much attention, and that was the last thing they needed.
Mercy gave a shaky nod. “I think so.”
She limped forward a step. And then another. With any luck anyone they passed on the street would assume she’d had too much to drink.
“I’m coming with you,” Fenrir said from behind, his voice firm.
For a moment, James flirted with the idea of telling the wolf to go to hell, but he resisted the urge. Fighting Fenrir would only drag his attention away from Mercy, and, right now, she needed him more.
“Where are we going?” Mercy asked, the soles of her shoes shuffling across the pavement as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Somewhere safe,” he answered.
“And where is that?” Fenrir asked behind him.
Good question. James could think of half a dozen places off the top of his head where they could hide for a few hours…but only one that promised to distract the wolf long enough to allow him a few moments alone with Mercy.
Chapter Sixteen
“Oh, hell no.”
James stuck out his boot and blocked the door of Emily’s apartment before she could slam it in Fenrir’s face. The thick, wooden slab smashed against the side of his foot, but he stood firm.
“Emily, we need your help,” James said, keeping his voice calm and reasonable, even as hers rose.
“No kidding,” she said. “Look at your face. What the hell happened to you?”
The wound on his cheek still throbbed with pain, but at least it had stopped bleeding shortly after they’d left the alley.
“There was an accident,” he said.
“An accident? Sure.” Her expression became comically skeptical. “Patching up cuts is beyond my skill set. You should have your friend take you to a doctor.”
“James’ injury is minor. It’s not why we’re here,” Fenrir said.
“Great. That makes kicking you out even easier,” she said, pushing her full body weight against the door. When that didn’t work, she kicked at the tip of James’ boot. “You don’t pay me enough to put up with that guy.”
Fenrir’s smile only grew. He flattened his palm against the door, ready to throw it wide open with a single push, but James waved him off. No need to resort to brute strength just yet. Not while there was still a chance he could sweet talk their way inside.
“How much money would it take?” James asked.
Emily didn’t slow her barrage on his toes. “You can’t count that high.”
“Would you do it for me?” Mercy’s weak voice wound around the corner.
Emily froze. A second later her door swung open, and she rushed out without glancing at him or Fenrir. Mercy was propped up against the hallway wall.
“Oh my God, what
the hell happened? Did these guys do something to you?”
“No,” Mercy answered, shaking her head. “It’s just been a bad night.”
“It looks like it’s been a hell of a lot more than that,” Emily said, wrapping her arms around Mercy’s middle and helping her inside. James and Fenrir followed. “You’re burning hot and pale as a ghost.”
Emily’s apartment was small, even for San Francisco standards. It wasn’t as modern as his or as homey as Mercy’s. Her place hovered somewhere in between—clean but worn, tightly packed but uncluttered.
“I’m fine,” Mercy said.
“No, you’re not.”
“I will be,” Mercy promised. “Just give me a few minutes to sit down, and I’ll be back to normal.”
Emily cast her friend a skeptical look, but she didn’t say another word as she walked Mercy over to her couch. Of course, the moment Mercy’s head rested against the cushions, Emily spun around and glowered at James.
“What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
“It’s complicated,” James answered.
“No, it’s not,” Emily shot back. “Look at you guys. You’re cut up. She’s sick. Why did you come here instead of going to the hospital?”
“Because your doctors can’t cure what’s wrong with her,” Fenrir said.
“That’s it,” Emily said, letting out a frustrated growl. “I don’t know what idiot game you guys are playing, but it ends now. I’m calling an ambulance.”
She started for the phone sitting on the hallway table, but James stopped her. “I can’t let you do that.”
Wariness shone bright in her eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
“No, of course not,” Mercy’s small voice floated across the room. “James isn’t going to hurt anyone.”
Emily didn’t look so sure. “Then give me my phone.”
“Fenrir’s right,” he said, not budging. “It won’t do any good.”
Her jaw tightened as she lifted her chin. “Why?”
“Even if I told you,” James said, “you wouldn’t believe me.”
Hook: Exiles of the Realm Page 18
