Silver-Steel

by Belinda McBride

  “Sorry I’m late.” Drusilla shut the door behind her and wedged herself between James and Lukas. Travis felt the room closing in and fidgeted. He needed to get back downstairs. It had been over an hour, and he was beginning to worry about Dylan.

  “Sir, do you need me still? I’d like to head downstairs.” His stomach rumbled, and he wondered when Dylan had last eaten. “I need to fix something for Dylan to eat.”

  “Hang on, Trav. Why don’t you catch Drusilla up? Short version, please.” Dane crossed one leg over the other. He looked weary and worried.

  “Dru, Dylan thinks a demon has infiltrated the rogue pack and is controlling their alpha. From what he’s been able to learn from Deacon and Brenden, the creature’s goal is to move in to Arcada.”

  She lifted a brow. “Deacon? Brenden?”

  “Deacon is the big one.” Travis glanced at James, whose expression had gone dark and dangerous. Obviously his gentle uncle carried a grudge against the rogue. “He’s a doctor. Brenden is the dark one. From what I gather, he was able to give Dylan their alpha’s name. His name is Conar, and apparently their pack is rural but close enough to cities for Brenden to go in and work construction.”

  “Well, that could be anywhere. What do we know about the third rogue?”

  “Have you seen him?”

  She shook her head. “Not since the fight last month.” She glanced at Dane. Drusilla was still angry about being shut out and angrier that Dane supported Blacque’s decision.

  “I think he’s bad. Really bad. Dylan says he’s not fighting the possession anymore. He’s trying to talk to him now.”

  “Is that safe?”

  He shook his head, glad someone caught the urgency of the moment. “I need to go check on him.”

  “I agree. The idea of a demon-possessed fae…” James trailed off.

  “You guys aren’t being fair. Dylan has never done anything threatening or suspicious.” Travis fought the urge to get up and stomp out of the room. “In fact”—he turned to Dane—“I wanted to see if it’s okay if I take him into town tomorrow. He’s been here nearly a month and hasn’t stepped out of the basement except maybe once.”

  “Travis, he spent most of the time unconscious.” James smiled up at him. “I’m not saying I suspect him of anything; I’m saying a demon-possessed fae would be a frightening thing. And there is the matter of those slave cuffs. Is he still under someone else’s control?”

  Drusilla leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Travis, I know he’s helped you. He’s helped us all. But I saw what he did in the forest. He tore one of those wolves apart bare-handed.”

  “What?” Horror laced him. He’d seen Dylan toss Deacon out of the way as if he were a pup, but he hadn’t seen him actually kill.

  “When you went down that last time. For a few minutes it was chaos, hard to tell who was pack and who was rogue. One of the rogues leaped for you, and he caught it. Killed it. With his hands, Travis. And he was hurt himself.”

  Blacque stood and stretched. He prowled the room; all the while Bleu’s dark gaze followed him. “I’m damn grateful he did it. He saved you, saved several of us.” Travis gaped at his brother’s words. Blacque paused and turned to face Dane. “Sir, I don’t see why we need to keep the fae locked up. If you’d like, I’ll go into town with them.”

  Dane didn’t answer. He gazed at Travis, then around the room. No one spoke. Travis managed to hold his tongue. Finally the alpha looked at him again.

  “What are your intentions in the relationship, son? You’ve barely known each other a month. Less, considering the circumstances.”

  “My intentions?” He’d never considered his intentions. He’d been desperate to keep Dylan from leaving; that was all he’d focused on. “I…I don’t know. I just don’t want him to leave. Not yet.”

  “And if he does leave?” Dane’s voice was kind but firm. “Will you go with him?”

  James spoke gently. “Travis, you don’t know where he lives or even what he does. All we know is that he might be influenced by another.”

  He looked at James and then at Lukas and Bleu. Was this another intervention?

  “I don’t know those things, but I want to know. I want to give him…give us a chance.”

  Drusilla answered. “Trav, Arcada rejected him. If you follow the fae when he leaves, you may find yourself on the outside. Permanently.”

  He glared at her. “Then maybe he shouldn’t leave.”

  But ultimately that wasn’t his choice. Dylan had spoken of leaving more than once. “Dad, I hope you haven’t been pressuring him.”

  “I’ve barely spoken to him, Travis. I admit he’s a concern. But he appears to have strong feelings for you.”

  He looked at his father in suspicion. Dane had a way of telling the truth but spinning it to serve his purpose.

  “I’m not saying to trust him blindly. Just trust me. And give him a chance. I know there’s more to him than he’s saying, but isn’t that true of all of us?”

  “Well, maybe not you.” A dimple showed briefly in Blacque’s cheek. “You’ve never been one to keep your thoughts to yourself.”

  Travis rolled his eyes. “Look, I know he’s dangerous. But face it, we all are.” He gave it a beat. “Even me.” That got a laugh, and he stood. “I’m going to fix him something to eat. Dad, is it okay if I take him into town? I’m sure he could use a break from the basement.”

  “If you’re okay with Blacque going along.”

  He glanced at his half brother. “Fine. Okay. I’ll let my brother tag along. Just this once, though.”

  “I’m honored,” Lukas replied drily.

  “You should be. Don’t cramp my style, bro.” He paused in the doorway and gazed at every person in the room. Except for Michella, they all looked his way, varying degrees of affection, concern, and love playing over their faces. She’d been quiet during the entire meeting.

  “Michella?”

  She looked up at him, her dislike barely veiled. “You want my blessing?” She got to her feet ungracefully and pushed her way past him. “You’re one of the weakest links in the pack, and you’ve brought someone dangerous into our midst.” She shot a contemptuous look at Lukas, who held her gaze. She looked away. “Fine. Do whatever you want with your boyfriend. Just stay the hell away from me and my baby.”

  Bleu dropped a hand to Lukas’s shoulder, and Drusilla looked at her folded hands. Dane narrowed his eyes. Travis followed Michella from the room, then closed the door behind them.

  “You are one angry, fucked-up bitch, Michella.” She growled but didn’t turn to face him. “Everyone knows the baby is yours. Yet you insist on cutting him out. Hurting him on purpose.”

  He reached out, grabbed her shoulder, and turned her to face him. To his surprise, her power was muted. Her gaze slid down and to the side.

  What the fuck? Was she submitting? Had the pregnancy weakened her that much?

  “You’re still angry at Blacque. You never got over it, did you?”

  She jerked away from his touch. “What the hell are you talking about, Travis?”

  He smiled, furious and amused at the same time. “He beat you and Mallory together back when we all challenged him. Hell, he beat us all. And you haven’t let it go. After he faced every challenger, he fought you two at the same time. And he won.”

  “Idiot. Yes, he beat us. I chose him to get me pregnant because he was the best candidate. Let it go, boy.”

  “You’re the one who’s still holding on. You took his seed, got pregnant, and now you’re cutting him from the baby’s life. Hell, you’re blocking us all. Even my father. We’re his blood. Are you going to carry this anger your entire life?”

  “Travis, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned away from him again, but he followed her into the huge kitchen.

  She started out the door, and Travis spoke. “That baby might be yours, but it’s got a family, Shel. Hard as you might try, you can’t change that.”

  She s
lammed the door in his face, and Travis stood rooted to the spot, thinking about what he’d just said. Michella, her wife, and their baby were family. Every person he left behind in that room was family, just as much as his mother was. If he left Arcada with Dylan, he’d be leaving them all.

  He swallowed.

  It was irrelevant. He planned to get Dylan to stay, one way or another. At least until they saw this whole thing through.

  And even then, he might not let him go.

  “Calum, are you here?”

  The darkness of the dream was velvety and warm, but it was a prison. Dylan held his hands out in front of his body, walking slowly. Under his feet the ground was firm and level. He heard nothing but the sounds of his body—his breathing and his heart. There was no taste, nothing to smell. The only thing he felt was something in his hand, something Calum had given him.

  “Calum?”

  This might be sanctuary to some, but to Dylan it was far too reminiscent of years spent locked away under the ground. Panic flared, and he brutally crushed it.

  It was a dream, and Calum’s mind had shut down. Dylan simply needed to retreat. Slowly he backed out of the dream and sorted through the drifting threads cast out by other sleepers. He chose one, and then another, peeking into the minds of Arcada until he found the one he sought. With a deep breath, he stepped into the final hunt and found himself in a garage. Cars were scattered in an enormous auto bay, broken down into various states of disrepair. The garage stretched on forever, like a vast wasteland of metal and rubber. Nearby he heard someone working, though he didn’t move to observe the person. He had plenty of time.

  Dylan was again clad in black, from his fine trousers and shirt to the long, flowing coat. Black gloves covered his hands. With a thought, a pair of dark sunglasses covered his eyes.

  He needed the shield to hide his guilt.

  Looking around, he saw more than cars—he saw great brass clockworks and bronze statues with mechanical movement. It reminded him of the workshop of Hephaestus, with a smoldering forge and molten metal being shaped into fantastical creations. As he watched, the scenery shifted, and the cars evolved into beastly-looking vehicles with wings and scales.

  The mind that had created this garden of mechanics was beyond genius. He was awestruck.

  “Hello, Dylan.”

  Dylan looked at the slender man standing before him. He was older, less childlike, but still young.

  “Hello, Jason.”

  “I was wondering who you’d come for. I thought perhaps it was one of the wolves or even Kell or Pim. I really hoped it wasn’t me.”

  “You knew me, then.”

  Jason laughed, his freckled nose wrinkling. “You’re the bogeyman, Dylan. The story told to wayward children to make them behave. The only thing I don’t understand is, why me?”

  The dream morphed again, and the shop returned, much as he imagined it must appear in real life. Blacque sat in the office, hunched over a computer screen. A mechanic leaned into the engine of a pickup truck. On the floor someone rolled out from under the body of a car. It was Travis. Jason looked at him, a long, lingering glance.

  He was in love.

  All seemed oblivious to the dream surrounding them.

  And again it changed. They were outside, under the stars. A lone woman sat cross-legged, gazing up at the frosty sky. It was Arcada, and Dylan watched her carefully. Jason never glanced in that direction. Didn’t he see her?

  “What did I do to draw the attention of the dream hunter? I’ve wronged no one. I’ve done no harm in my life. I came here for safety, to avoid the likes of you.” He put his hands on his hips, conveying an anger that was odd given the fact that his childhood nightmare was facing him. “Those marks around your neck and wrists… They’re gone.”

  Surprised, Dylan glanced down. Generally the tattoos glowed when he was on a hunt. It was the geas, prompting him to hunt, to kill or capture. He felt strangely adrift. The compulsion was gone.

  “Am I free?” He looked to the woman, hoping for confirmation.

  She turned blind eyes in his direction. “You are free in this moment. I’m holding that Other out.” Contempt dripped from her words.

  “You know that a demon is trying to enter?”

  “That matter doesn’t concern you, Dylan Ryve. I am giving you this moment, free of your master, to make the decision you must face. While I shelter you, the geas is null.”

  Null. He gasped for breath at the word. His legs weakened. “If I stay…”

  “If you stay with me, you are free of your master and his unholy contract.” She looked away.

  “But only within your sphere of protection. If I leave, the geas will resume?”

  “I am afraid so.”

  He glanced at Jason, wondering what the gremlin thought of all this, but he seemed unaware of the conversation, studying the stars above them.

  “If I stay, Ulric will always be a threat, not only to me, but to the people here. To you. Centuries ago he forced his way into my forest, killed so many of us…”

  “And that is why you’re here now. You bartered your soul for their lives.”

  “One thousand lives.”

  “That was a hard bargain, elf. Would you do it again?”

  “Yes.” He remembered children with hair the color of his. Over the years he sometimes caught sight of a man or woman or child, their vivid hair and green eyes a badge that called to him. His grandchildren? “Yes, I would do it again.”

  “You may remain with me.”

  “I cannot.”

  Unexpectedly her composure wavered. “I offer you safety. I offer you absolution.” She didn’t appear angry. She seemed sad. Hurt.

  “The barbarians are at the gates of Arcada. The rogues and Ulric. I promise you, this will lead to tragedy. Good people will be hurt. You will be hurt.”

  “So once again, you offer yourself as the martyr.” She shook her head.

  “If the shoe fits…”

  “You have no shoes.”

  He grinned, glancing at his bare feet. He laughed. “I like you, whoever you are.”

  She turned her head in his direction; she no longer shifted through a myriad of appearances. She now wore the pleasant face of a young woman. He was unable to properly make out her features or even what she wore. “I like you as well, Dylan. And I will miss you when you’re gone. You are one of only a few who talk to me, though I often try.”

  Dylan lowered himself to the grass and looked up at the same stars Jason gazed at. “You’re lonely. So you offer me sanctuary?”

  “What are the conditions of your geas, dream hunter?”

  “I must deliver one more subject to my master. When I turn him over, I will be free. If I fail of my own volition, I surrender my freedom forever or he can choose to take my life.”

  He looked at Jason again. The young fae was sketching against the sky, drawing a fantastical machine against a backdrop of stars. No sooner had he finished than the drawing scattered like fireflies.

  “But Jason had a point. What does Ulric want with him?”

  She gave a small laugh. “He’s losing his dream hunter. Naturally he will need a replacement.”

  He stared at her in shock. “Replacement?”

  Of course, Ulric was perfectly positioned. He must have had a weapon to use against the gremlin, just as he had against Dylan. And if Dylan didn’t deliver Jason, he was resigned to an eternity serving his master.

  Ulric was covered. Dylan was fucked.

  “I cannot stay.” He stood, his heart aching, his head pounding. He’d said it all along, but in his heart Dylan hadn’t really accepted that truth. He’d believed he could deliver Jason undetected and return to Travis. He’d believed… It didn’t matter. He’d just believed.

  “I’m sorry, Dylan.” She rested a hand on his bare foot. “That is why I made the offer.”

  “Because you knew I’d turn it down?”

  “No, because I knew you would make the right decision. I’m s
orry I cannot help beyond this.”

  “That’s a bit of a conundrum. If I stay, you don’t want me. If I leave—without Jason—you want me.” He smiled and shook his head. This time it wasn’t a question of a thousand villagers for a thousand strangers; it was eternity. His eternity for Jason’s freedom. Once again he glanced at the brilliant young fae. Had he once been that bright and promising?

  “Shit.” He covered his face with his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. He’d just surrendered as completely as Calum had submitted to the demon. How many more hunts? How many more centuries?

  He sat up, alone now. Jason was in his own mechanical dream world, building small, golden toys that tottered across the grass. Dylan breathed deeply to recover his composure.

  Perhaps he could find the demon before Ulric caught up to him. If not, there was always iron.

  Dylan opened his eyes, back in Brenden’s cell. Travis looked down at him, relief and joy mingling in his eyes. Dylan opened his hands, remembering that Calum had given him something, but of course his hands were empty.

  The offering was gone with the dream.

  “Welcome back.” Travis leaned down and kissed Dylan gently. “I brought food. It’s back in your room. And Dane said it’s okay for you to go to town with me tomorrow. We just have to bring Blacque along. You okay with that?”

  He smiled, proud that he’d managed to crush back his grief. It had retreated to his body and burrowed into his heart. He swallowed, clearing his throat.

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  Chapter 17

  Night fell early in the heart of winter. With the frigid sunset, the town of Arcada came to beautiful, magical life. Travis led Dylan to the shoulder-high snow maze snaking within the park that dominated downtown. Small white fairy lights illuminated the trees, guiding them through the icy puzzle.

  “I only remember one or two times the snow got high enough to do this. I’m glad you didn’t miss it.”

  “Me too.”

  Dylan smiled at him, never missing a step. Travis had always believed there was no one as graceful as the wolves till he met Bleu. Now he watched Dylan and knew he’d been wrong again. Or maybe it was that golden glow of infatuation. With his pale hair and dark clothing, Dylan looked exactly like a fae should look: enchanted. Magical.