Blackbirds & Bourbon

by Heather R. Blair

  The storm is still raging, a full-on whiteout, but Ivo is indifferent, his senses and reflexes handling the icy roads easily. We pass through Two Harbors and keep going. I’m bored as hell and getting antsy. “Is the Dark Council’s evil lair in Canada? ’Cause if it is, that’s either really clever…or just plain lame.”

  “Shut up.” Kevin throws the words over his shoulder and turns up the radio. Country pop. Yet another reason this satyr’s going on my shit list. I can do country and I can do pop, but never the twain should meet. Shuddering, I look out the window, shifting in my seat. A hard lump presses painfully against my hip and I flinch. Sticking a hand in my pocket, I come up with Tyr’s agate. I catch Ivo’s eyes in the rear view mirror. He’s frowning.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  I polish the pretty rock absently against my jeans. “It was sort of a gift. Why? What is it?”

  He blinks. “A truth stone. They’re rather rare. In fact, I haven’t seen one in centuries. Why would someone give you something so valuable if you don’t even know what it is?”

  “Oh, because he’s got a real sense of humor, that one. What is it good for?”

  “No one holding one can lie. Try it.”

  I consider Ivo’s words as my eyes trail to the satyr who looks bored. I think the lie in my head before I say it: Kevin plays the best tunes. But when I open my mouth, a weird warmth zips down my arm from where my fingers are curled around the stone, and what comes out is—

  “Kevin doesn’t have the musical taste of a cross-dressing redneck.”

  The satyr rolls his eyes and flips me off before looking out the window. Ivo smiles as I gape at the agate in my hand.

  “Told you.”

  “Wow, that’s kind of freaky.” And why the hell did Tyr give it to me? I have no clue, but for the next few minutes, I try to lie my ass off and the stone catches me at every turn.

  My favorite color is not blue.

  I do not swing both ways, though I admit to a certain curiosity that raises Ivo’s eyebrows and has me glaring at the stone in consternation.

  Disappointingly enough, My sisters are going to kill me when they find out about this comes out verbatim.

  I try something more mundane.

  Lovely weather we’re having today turns to “It’s colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra.”

  “I’ve never understood that saying,” Ivo mumbles, catching my eye again in the mirror.

  “Of course not. You seem to prefer man boobs…excuse me. Satyr boobs.”

  “Is that your way of saying I’m soft, witch?” Kevin turns to growl at me over the seat, his eyes narrowed. Never, ever infer that a satyr is weak.

  I shudder delicately, unable to help myself. “Dude, keep your performance issues to yourself, all right?”

  He snarls and tries to climb into the backseat, his clawed fingers reaching for my throat.

  “Ignore her.” Ivo grabs Kevin’s thigh and hauls him back into the front seat. The satyr settles down with a few colorful curses, but I catch the vampire’s lips twitching before he presses them together.

  I’m here all day instantly becomes “Laugh while you can, bloodsucker. Payback’s a nasty bitch.”

  The smile vanishes from Ivo’s face. Apparently the stone doesn’t do sarcasm.

  We’re coming up on Silver Creek Cliff Tunnel, a low arch I can just make out in the towering bluff looming above. I straighten in my seat.

  “C’mon, guys, hold your breath.” I puff out my cheeks and press my lips together.

  “Finally. Thank the horned one for blessed silence, however brief it may be,” Kevin mutters.

  I kick the back of his chair, still holding my breath as we pass under the tunnel entrance. It’s childish, but I can’t help myself.

  Lights flicker past in staccato bursts, then we’re back in the cottony-grey blizzard twilight. I let out my breath with an obnoxious raspberry sound that has the satyr caressing his knife and shooting Ivo a pleading look that the vampire ignores.

  Before I can needle the satyr some more, the road is yanked out from under us, like the bedrock beneath our wheels decided to go for a quick walk. My stomach lurches, and the SUV along with it as we go spinning toward the white-capped lake.

  Before I can truly panic, the Lexus slams into the safety railing and bounces off again. We come to a slippery stop, the front bumper hanging off the tarmac, the vehicle slightly canted, its lights bouncing off the whiteout surrounding us.

  “Well, now I know what a hockey puck feels like.” I bend down to look for the agate that I dropped, finding it and tucking it back into my pocket. As I straighten I realize only silence has greeted my observation. Not even the sound of a sneer. I peer over the seat back to see Ivo and Kevin, slumped together, breathing deeply, obviously sound asleep. What the literal fuck?

  Magic is being worked here, but what kind and whose, I have no idea. The fact that it’s strong enough to knock out both a vampire and a satyr can’t be good. Goosebumps form icily down the back of my neck. The only sounds I hear are the quiet hum of the engine and the storm howling outside.

  And the faint crunch of footsteps.

  Shit.

  Something moves past my window. Bright red and fast. Something that looks suspiciously like the tip of a gnome hat.

  “Merry?” I whisper. A whisper that quickly turns into a scream when the gnome does a jack-in-the-box impression outside my window, popping into view, ice glistening in his curly brown hair.

  After my heart comes back from the stratosphere, I roll the window down. “What the hell are you doing, Merry?”

  His brows furrow. “Rescuing you?”

  Surprised, I can only shake my head. “No, you’re not. They’re taking me to the Dark Council. Go away.”

  Holding his hat on with one hand, the other pulling nervously at an ear, Merry gives me a strange look. “Are you all right, Seph? Because it sounds like you want them to take you in.”

  “It sounds that way because I do.” I have to practically yell to be heard over the storm and the thrashing of the lake. The wind is lashing at me through the open window with stinging bits of ice.

  “You’ve completely lost it.”

  I shrug. “I’ve heard that one before. Seriously, Merry, I need to see what I’m dealing with.”

  “No.” He shakes his head, looking grim. “You really don’t. The Dark Council isn’t something you can charm with your smart mouth. These are creatures the like of which you have never known.”

  “Wait…you know who they are? Spill, gnome. You owe me.”

  “No.” His dark little face is hard and angry. “This is even more stupid than your usual, Seph.”

  “As stupid as trusting the word of a gnome?” I ask, starting to shiver in the cold.

  To my surprise his gaze drops to the tarmac. I have never, and I do mean never ever, seen a gnome look embarrassed. “Don’t know what you mean by that,” he mumbles.

  “Oh yes, you do. You set me up, you pathetic lawn jockey!”

  He coughs, “That’s a lame insult, not to mention racist. What’s next, gonna call me a plastic flamingo?”

  “Only if you start wearing pink and get some work done. Goddammit, Merry. Why? Was it the money?”

  He seems offended, a tic in his cheek going in and out. “Whatever, Persephone. The vampire’s waking up. If you’re determined to go with them, I don’t have time for this shit.” He jams the hat down on his head and turns away, vanishing into the storm.

  “Wait.” Releasing my seat belt, I open the door, about to jump out of the SUV, even as more ice spits at my face. “Merry—”

  But the gnome is gone. A cold hand settles on my shoulder, yanking me back into my seat. “What the hell’s going on?” Ivo sounds groggy. “Who’s Mary?”

  “No one.” I slam the door. “Just finishing up a little spell. Mary, Mary, quite contrary. You hit a pot hole. I fixed it.”

  “A pot hole knocked me and Kevin out?”

  I shrug
. “It’s Minnesota, dude, our potholes are impressive. Now let’s get going. And for the love of the horned one, can you please change the music?”

  He gives me a suspicious look, but switches the radio to MPR before shaking the satyr awake. Classical with pretentious commentary. Still better than suffering through another Florida Georgia Line song.

  The vampire barely makes five miles before we hit a patch of black ice that appears out of nowhere, covering the entire roadway. With a familiar gut-sickening slide, we spin right into the side of the cliff. This time with far more violent force.

  “Stop this ride. I wanna get off,” I whimper as we start to spin again, bracing my arms on the ceiling as we go round and round.

  Then the vehicle ricochets back toward the lake like a wild gunshot and this is really not fun anymore. I watch Kevin’s head slam into the window, knocking the satyr back unconscious before he was really awake, a red streak left on the glass. Metal squeals and tires pop as the SUV hits a guardrail and careens violently in the other direction, tilting with sickening slowness to finally fall onto the driver’s side with a jaw-snapping thump.

  Sideways we slide over the ice-covered tarmac.

  My elbow knocks painfully against the buckling window as I lose my grip on the ceiling, having never refastened my seat belt. We bounce off stone again and back the other way. I see sparks fly and smell gas, my stomach starting to tighten and heave as I bite down on my lip and taste blood.

  This time when we hit the safety rail it gives way with a resounding crack, sending us free-falling toward the angry grey water.

  7

  My door is yanked open seemingly in mid-air.

  Jack pulls me from the SUV just before it goes over. I don’t see or hear anything else because in seconds we’re deep in the woods, probably miles from the highway.

  My stomach roils violently the instant he lets go of the wind. I stumble, feeling dizzy and confused. Jack stays close long enough to make sure I’m not going to fall down or hurl, then he backs away, both hands stabbing through his ice-speckled hair as he snarls, “Do you have a death wish, Seph? Is what happened on that beach messing with your head that bad?”

  I put a hand out to a tree to steady my trembling legs, shaking with the combined effects of the short hop on the wind, the accident and the extreme cold of the storm swirling around us. “Of course it’s messing with my head, Jack. Because unlike some people, I actually have a conscience, not to mention a goddamn heart!”

  “You think I don’t have a heart?” There is something like laughter in his voice, but the bitterness in it hurts my ears.

  Jack whirls away, throwing out an arm. A thin sheet of ice balloons through the glade, sparkling blue and green and pink. Slowly it expands and rises toward the angry sky. Unreal, otherworldly and unbelievably beautiful, like the skin of a frozen bubble, it stretches above us, creaking and groaning as it holds back the fury of the storm. The noise reminds me of that night on the beach, right before the wall of ice came down…

  I suck in a breath. Jack glances over his shoulder, his gaze narrowing at whatever he sees on my face. Just as abruptly those frosty irises widen again.

  “Down, Seph!” he shouts.

  I dive, barely getting a glimpse of the vampire flashing through the woods before he hits Jack, knocking him sideways. Glistening fangs sink deep into Jack’s shoulder, tearing through leather and flesh. Jack sways, barely keeping his feet as Ivo clings to his back like a pale monkey and drinks.

  And drinks.

  I’m too stunned to scream. Getting to my knees, I lift my hands, muttering my rhyme with a swiftness born of terror as Jack starts to recover, slamming an elbow into Ivo’s face. Blood flies as the vampire releases him, stark crimson splattering against the snow. With a shattering creak, Jack’s protective layer of ice collapses. Jack looks up and curses as the wind howls down on us once more.

  Ivo steps back, his broken nose already healing, a wide, victorious smile stretching his bloodstained lips. “There goes your magic, Frost.”

  “But not mine.” My hair whips over my face, already coated in sleet and stinging my skin. I’ve got this.

  I hope.

  It doesn’t matter if Ivo ingested Jack’s protection against me along with his magic, because my spell’s not aimed at the vampire, but the sky.

  Like a golden whip, my magic lashes at the dark mass of clouds. A rip forms instantly, a single shaft of sunlight piercing through the storm, bright and blinding. Ivo’s eyes widen, then his face starts to blister and peel, blackening like a marshmallow over a campfire, sending the smell of roasting flesh and ash into the air. With a scream, he vanishes from sight. He might be dead or more likely miles away, recuperating, but either way, the vampire’s no longer an immediate threat.

  Jack watches blankly as I run forward to press my fingers to the warm blood seeping from his jacket. The healing I’m trying for doesn’t take; my innate magic fizzles and dies where it touches him. He’s still immune to me. “Fuck!”

  He doesn’t react, still staring. Wondering if he’s in shock, I run my shaking hand over his shoulder, the leather streaked with ice along with the blood. The snow is turning to freezing rain, thick and punishing against my cheeks. “Jack?”

  I shake him hard. His hands come up instantly, gripping my shoulders tight enough to make me squeak.

  “The Dark Council means to kill you, princess. What the hell were you thinking?” Low and raw his voice plucks at my already-frayed nerves.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, let’s not worry about me and my choices just now. You—”

  “I’ll be fine. I need to know where the hell your head is at, letting them take you in. Are you suicidal or what?”

  Wait. “Did Merry call you?”

  “Answer the question, Seph!” I thought I’d seen Jack angry before. Guess I was wrong. Stripped of his magic or not, he’s scary right now, those eyes flashing silver fire as he looms over me.

  “I…I wanted answers.” I let my hand drop from his shoulder, my fingers wet with his cooling blood. He looks wild, a man possessed, shaking me now, hard enough to rattle my already-pounding head.

  “Fucking answers. That’s what you think you need?” He makes a disgusted sound that has my stomach burning. “Bad enough to die for them?”

  “Why not?” All at once, I lose it, throwing my arms up to break his hold on me. Screaming the words at him over the wind, my throat on fire as all the fear, confusion and anger come boiling up from somewhere deep inside me. “How else do you think this goddamn story is going to end?”

  I can’t do this. I can’t see anyone else hurt for me.

  Not even Jack.

  He looks at me for a long beat, his jaw locked, ice clinging to his hair and eyelashes. Then Jack seizes my arm with his good hand, pulling me through the woods. The trees get thicker, the storm quieter and before I know it, Jack is pressing me to my knees, at a dark hole in the side of a rocky hill. I crawl in, almost on my belly. I cough as dirt trickles down from the ceiling, coating my hair and lungs with the dusty taste of earth. After a few feet, I’m able to straighten and stand. I conjure my orange flames and look around.

  This is nowhere near grand enough to qualify as a cave, more along the lines of a human-sized badger hole. Or at least a Seph-sized one. Jack, once he makes his way in behind me, is forced to sit at my feet, hunched over by the inward-curving walls. The top of the hole is not nearly high enough for him to stand. The bleeding from Ivo’s bite has slowed to a trickle. Jack looks pale and pissed, but otherwise okay. If it’s not easy to kill a fully realized witch, it’s damn near impossible to end an elemental.

  “We need to get you home.” He rummages awkwardly in his jacket, then holds out his phone. “No service here. You’ll have to cast to—”

  “No.” I wrap one arm around my waist, glaring down at him. “I am going to the Dark Council, dammit. And you can’t do shit to stop me. Sucks to be without your magic, doesn’t it?”

  His eyes narro
w dangerously. Even wounded, stripped of his powers and sprawled on his ass in a glorified hole in the ground, Jack looks very much a king. One you don’t want to fuck with.

  But I don’t care.

  I spin to head back into the storm, prepared to blast this little shelter apart if necessary. Before I can take a step, Jack’s fingers wrap around my ankle. “Godamnit, princess, don’t.”

  It’s not his hold, but the pleading tone of his voice that stops me. Tired, cold and wet, I sag against the crumbly dirt wall, my back to him. His fingers tighten on my leg, then fall away.

  Jack clears his throat. “I know you want answers, baby. But facing the Dark Council alone is not the way to get them.” He sounds so sincere, so concerned, I close my eyes. If only I could trust him…

  My eyes fly back open, my back straightening as I turn around slowly.

  “Maybe there is another way.” I pull the agate from my pocket. “Ivo said this is a truth stone. That the person holding it is compelled to be honest, no matter what.”

  “Did Styx give that to you?” Jack’s voice is hoarse and he looks like somebody just stepped on his grave, his gaze riveted on the stone.

  “Styx? No. Why would you—”

  “Then where the hell did you get it?”

  I can’t lie, not with the stone in my hand, and I wouldn’t anyway. Because I want to know why Jack is reacting this way. “Tyr. He threw it to me at the mall before he kicked my ass.”

  Jack leans back against the wall, his eyes closed. He seems to be trying to control his breathing. “Did he tell you why?”

  “No. He said he was doing me a favor. What’s wrong, Jack?”

  “Nothing. But if he got that where I think he got it… Shit.” He taps the back of his head lightly into the dirt wall, his fists pounding the top of his thighs.

  “Are you going to explain that?”

  “Let’s just say the only one of those I’ve ever seen belongs to somebody who would not be happy to find it missing. And if Tyr stole it from said person to give it to you…” He shakes his head, his expression somewhere between lethal and calculating. “You must have made quite the impression on our resident assassin.”