Edge of Dreams

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  Chapter 14

  It was more like forty-five minutes before we came downstairs. As we approached the dining room, I could hear impatient voices inside. Price’s hand enveloped mine. He pulled me around to face him. I lifted my brows.

  “They are waiting for us,” I said, but made no attempt to pull away.

  “Just remember I have your back. I won’t let my brother bully you.”

  “I won’t let him bully me,” I said.

  Price scowled. “He gets tunnel vision. He doesn’t let himself get derailed.”

  “No worries,” I said airily. “My specialty is derailing. I knocked you off your feet, didn’t I?” I swung around, unable to resist the lovely scent of breakfast any longer.

  “That’s for sure. I’m still floundering,” Price muttered behind me.

  We stepped into the wood-paneled room with its long, polished granite table and heavy carved chairs. That was all I could take in before Leo snatched me into his arms.

  “I was getting ready to come hunt you down. How do you feel?” He hugged me hard.

  I hugged him back. “I’m good,” I said. “I could eat, though.”

  He laughed, his chest jerking. “That sounds like you.” He loosened his arms enough to scrutinize my face. “You’re really well?”

  “I’m fine,” I said firmly. “How are you? And Madison?”

  The girl in question stood a few feet away. Her eyes were bruised looking, and she looked like she’d lost a good ten pounds or more. She clung to the back of a chair, biting her lower lip as she watched my reunion with Leo. Touray sat at the far end of the table, his lips bowing down with impatience.

  “We’re well enough for a couple of prisoners,” Leo said, sending an angry glance down the table at Touray.

  “Prisoners?” My voice sharpened. I looked at Touray and then Price in silent demand.

  “It seemed unwise to allow it to be known that you had escaped from the mountain,” Touray said. “I thought it best to keep things quiet until you were awake and we knew what we were dealing with.”

  I nodded understanding. “He’s right,” I said to Leo. “If Percy thinks we’re stuck in the tunnels somewhere, he’s less likely to be on guard. I’m sure he’s got people watching to see if we’ve made contact with anybody. Me and Madison, if nobody else, since he didn’t really know about you and Dalton. Since no one’s heard from us, he probably thinks we’re lost or dead in the mines.”

  “Dalton?” Price echoed.

  “Who’s Dalton?” Touray demanded at the same time.

  Damn.

  I’d hoped to get some breakfast in me before the interrogation started. I eyed the sideboard longingly before answering. “Dalton was—is, I guess—the leader of a protection squad that I figured had come from one of you two. They’ve been guarding me since right after—Since the stuff with Josh went down.”

  “You thought he worked for one of us?” Price asked, his voice an icy knife. Hard to believe that he’d just been screwing me into oblivion. Just at the moment, he sounded like he wanted bang my head against the granite tabletop. “Surely you checked him out. Hell, why didn’t you call and ask?”

  “I didn’t call because I was trying to figure out my life without your interference. I had someone check him out, a hacker friend of mine, but there wasn’t much to find. Since I figured he was one of yours, that seemed normal. If you’d sent him, you’d erase his history and anything to do with you. I traced him as far as I could, but he had good nulls and he used them. That was another thing that made him look like yours. Add to that the fact that he was constantly on my ass about safety, and never once lifted a finger against me, the logic seemed sound.”

  “Christ,” Price said. His jaw knotted, and he turned like he was looking for something to hit. “Why couldn’t you just pick up the damned phone?”

  I’d been asking myself that question, too, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Again, he didn’t hurt me.” I remembered the dreamspace vision. Somebody was working extra hard to get me to trust him.

  “How the hell do you know? Maybe he hasn’t triggered whatever plan he set in motion. Maybe he’s just biding his time. Fuck, Riley! You know better!”

  “He’s right,” Leo said. “Why the hell didn’t you get in touch with me? I could have looked into it. Mom could have. She’s still got contacts with the feds.”

  My stepmom was a reader. A strong one. She’d been recruited into various government agencies. She’d retired early, after my dad vanished, but she still got called in on hard cases. She could have done some digging. But I hadn’t wanted to call her. Mostly because I didn’t want her to use her empath magic on me. I’d been too torn up over Price, and I hadn’t wanted to explain.

  “She’s the reader, correct?” Touray asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Should I assume you know everything about me? What deodorant I wear? The results of my last Pap smear?”

  He smiled slowly, his eyes hooded. “I think it’s a safe enough assumption.”

  I glared at Price. “I suppose you know all that, too?” No wonder he’d got all my clothing sizes right.

  “I didn’t know about Dalton,” he said, still furious. “I kept my word. I backed off. I trusted you to take care of yourself, and then you let someone you don’t even know worm his way in? Are you insane? Or just incredibly stupid?”

  “I don’t know. Let me think about that one,” I snapped. “Right now, I’m feeling a lot like both, not to mention pretty damned irritated.”

  He stormed over to me, standing so close that I had to lean my head back to meet his gaze. “Irritated? That’s nothing. I’m fucking pissed as hell. You have no right to take chances with yourself.” He poked a finger into my chest to emphasize his point. “What happened to all your paranoia? Shit, you wouldn’t let me be in the same room with you, but you let a total stranger under your roof twenty-four/seven.”

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t. I let him and his squad follow me around during work hours. I repeat, I thought you’d sent him. Besides, I—”

  I’d been overwhelmed with the flood of work, with the sudden public outing of me being a tracer, and my loneliness from missing him. I’d been a hot mess. I wasn’t going to admit it, but it was true that I hadn’t been thinking all that clearly. I should have called. I should have double-checked with my stepmom. I should have gone to ground until I knew I was safe.

  “You what?” Price prompted, looking angrier than I’d ever seen him. That was saying something.

  I’d been so damned tired of hiding that I’d fooled myself into thinking I was looking after myself well enough. “I could have done better,” I admitted. “Are you satisfied? I fucked up. I done wrong. Are you done stroking out for now? Can we get on with the rest of the story?”

  He opened his mouth, then shut it. He shook his head and spun on his heel and strode stiff-legged across the room as far from me as he could get. He sprawled in a chair, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting.

  Was he pouting? I marched over to him, my anger and embarrassment simmering hot. I put my hands on my hips. “It’s the strangest thing, but suddenly I’ve got a feeling like a sore throat coming on. So if you don’t come sit at the table with the other grown-ups, there’s a good chance you’re not going to hear much.”

  He glared at me. “If I do, I might kill you.”

  “I’ll kick your balls up into your throat if you try. Besides, I told you that you’d be hearing things that would make you go homicidal. Didn’t I ask you to keep remembering that you love me? Did you already forget?”

  He snorted, and his lips flashed a momentary smile. It vanished as fast as it arrived. “I’m not sure I can take it. How bad is it going to get?”

  “You’ve heard all the bad parts. Now it’s me just fleshing
out the rest.”

  I decided to leave it at that. I went over to the sideboard and served myself. There were thick-cut potatoes fried with peppers, onions, and marinated cabbage; four different kinds of eggs; steak, bacon, and sausage; steamed vegetables; biscuits; fruit; yogurt; pastries; and a half-dozen sauces and gravies. I loaded up two plates and put them on the table, then filled a tall glass with what turned out to be fresh-squeezed orange juice. Carafes of coffee were already on the table. I took a cup and filled it, adding cream and sugar. Price sat across from me. Madison slid in beside me, and Leo sat beside Price.

  When I sat down, I realized we were missing someone. “Where’s Cass?”

  “She’s on her way,” Touray said, serving himself. “They had a flat.”

  Once everyone had loaded up their plates and settled around the table, I started to talk. I began with Dalton’s arrival, then skipped forward to Lauren hiring me to find her nephew. Touray, Leo, and Price peppered me with questions. I answered each one, finishing both my plates of food and returning to the sideboard for pastries and fruit. I hadn’t had room for them the first go-around.

  I sat back down. When I got to the part about the fumigation, Leo lost it.

  “What? You were exposed to Sparkle Dust?”

  He sat slack in his chair. He looked like he’d been punched in the gut. Like Madison had looked when we made her leave her family behind. Like I’d felt when I thought Price might have been blown up. Helplessness and horror.

  Quickly, I explained about by belly null, which ordinarily would have earned me a lot of grief from my audience. Investing a tattoo with magic risks that an enemy might cut it out of you. In this case, however, the fact that it saved me from SD had them conveniently overlooking that fact. I had a feeling I’d be hearing about it later, though.

  Leo pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, his fingers digging into his scalp.

  “I don’t think I’m addicted. I’m sure I would have been craving it by now,” I reassured him. “Cass is coming. She’s a dreamer. She’ll be able to tell for sure.”

  Madison nodded, speaking up for the first time. “I’ve seen a lot of victims. Usually it takes less than twenty-four hours before they are shaking and begging for a fix.”

  For once my brother seemed out of words. He lowered his hands and nodded, his expression turning blank. “Okay.”

  I hesitated, but he didn’t look at me. He’d gone liquid-nitrogen cold, and whatever he felt was locked inside that fortress of frost.

  Nobody asked what would happen if I was wrong and Cass found evidence of SD addiction in me. Since I hadn’t shown symptoms, I was pretty sure I was fine, but there was a lot of room for fear between pretty sure and definitely sure. I could tell they all thought it. No point in bringing it up now.

  I then told about Percy and the way he’d burned me.

  “I will kill him,” Leo whispered. “Painfully and slowly.”

  “Get in line,” Price said. “He’s mine.”

  “She’s my sister.”

  “She’s my life,” Price snapped back. “Get used to having me around, Junior, because I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face. I’m sure this was flattering, somehow. If you got past the fact that neither of the two men had a very high opinion of my ability to take care of myself. I couldn’t blame them. Not after I’d confessed about Dalton, and then getting lured down to the tunnels by Lauren. It was clear they both thought I was touched in the head. Half-witted. Simpleminded. Idiotic. All of which I could agree with. I was determined to do better. Arguing about it at this point wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I’d fight that battle later, when I actually had something to win.

  Unfortunately, my two-second mental time-out had given Leo enough time to teach Price a lesson. Touray growled, and his heavy chair went flying against the wall. Madison squealed.

  “What the fuck?” Price roared.

  “Do not call me ‘Junior,’ and I am more than a match for the likes of you, Tyet man,” Leo crooned in a voice I was all too familiar with. He didn’t lose his temper often, but when he did—

  I dropped my hands resignedly, already knowing what I’d find. I was right. Price was contained in a filigree suit of metal from neck to ankles. Leo had pulled it from everywhere in the room—metal buttons, screws, nails, hinges, silverware, electric cords, and anything else metal. It was beautiful to look at—my brother was an artist, and even something like this had to have flair.

  Price struggled against his prison to no avail. I knew exactly how he felt. Leo had captured me like this a dozen times over the years. Even though his head and feet were free, Price would be feeling claustrophobic and helpless. After a moment of struggle, he held himself still, glaring furiously at Leo, who stared smugly back.

  Touray reached fruitlessly into his rear waistband for a gun that no doubt had vanished into Price’s bonds. His expression had gone deadly. “Free my brother or I will cut your throat.”

  Leo sneered. “Can you?” Ribbons of metal flowed up Touray’s legs and around his hips, fixing him in place. More snapped around his wrists. A spike formed and lifted, nudging against the hollow of Touray’s throat. “Don’t ever threaten me.”

  Before Touray could do just that, I slapped my hands down on the table and hoped it didn’t collapse without its metal parts. “Enough! You all called me ‘stupid’ and ‘ridiculous’ and ‘idiotic,’ so apparently you recognize it. Have a look at yourselves. Leo—I love you, but you can’t go around attacking your new family whenever they piss you off, which I suspect will be often. Yes. I really did just say new family. I love Price, he loves me, we’re moving in together. That means Touray comes with the territory, like it or not.”

  “As for the two of you,” I said, whirling on Price and Touray. “Same thing applies. He’s my brother, and if I’m your family now, so’s he, and so’s the rest of the bunch. Get used to it. Embrace the crazy. Now, this pissing match is canceled. If you all can’t behave, I’d just as soon go back to bed until you come to your senses, though I’m sure Madison would like to see her family rescued sooner rather than later.”

  Seconds later, the metal pulled away and reshaped itself into a freeform wall decoration. It was ridiculously lovely. If Touray had had to pay for it, it would have cost him several hundred thousand dollars. That Leo could make it in a fraction of a minute was a testament to how overpaid he was, and how skilled. He gave me a little shrug of apology. All I would get. Touray eyed the wall and then Leo. I could almost hear his thoughts. Another tool for his toolbox. Over my dead body. He gave Leo a little nod of appreciation. Price lifted his chin in a little salute. Men.

  I quickly told the rest of my story, from Madison’s kindness to Luke’s help to rescuing Leo and Dalton and the rest of the squad. I mentioned what Luke said about Percy clearing out within a week. We didn’t have a lot of time left to catch him before he abandoned his lair.

  Touray frowned as I mentioned the weird paralyzing blankets that Percy’s people had worn, and the others that had been hung to trap intruders.

  “You’ve never heard of anything like that before?” I asked, glancing around the table.

  The men shook their heads. Madison stared down into her lap. She’d hunched in on herself, almost like she wanted to disappear.

  “Madison? Do you want to tell us about your family? Percy’s holding them?”

  She flinched when I said her name, her lips pinching tight. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. Leo reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. She shook him off.

  “It’s my dad and my little sister,” she said, so quietly I could barely hear her. “Percy has them. I’m supposed to be a hostage against their good behavior. If I run, if I escape, then he’ll hurt them.”

  She looked at me, her eyes
haunted. “Robin is barely eighteen.”

  Percy wouldn’t hesitate to torture the teen. Maybe he’d burn her, maybe he’d find something else.

  “Why does he have them? He hasn’t fumed them?” He used the SD as a tool for guaranteeing loyalty. I was surprised he hadn’t fumed Madison.

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t want them going wraith and dying. Me either, since threatening me makes them do what he says.”

  “What’s that?” Price asked. “What does he want from them?”

  Madison looked down into her lap again, then raised her head, firming her chin. Clearly this was a secret she didn’t often reveal. I knew exactly what she was feeling. I gave her an encouraging nod.

  “My dad has a fairly unique ability. He can tell what someone else’s magic talent is, just by touching them. My sister can do the same.”

  Touray rubbed a hand over his lips and jaw, his eyes narrowing thoughtful. “Handy, but hardly a reason to hold a family prisoner.”

  Madison nodded. “Have you heard of ragpickers? Or quilters?”

  Price answered. “Quilters are what they sound like. They can piece together broken things. Most of them are pretty minor talents and work with a single textile, like leather or cloth or ceramics. I’ve never heard of ragpickers.”

  “No reason you should. It’s not all that useful a talent. They usually end up working with the dead.”

  “Why? What do they do?” Leo asked.

  “They can see spirits. When people die violently, a lot of times their spirits are torn apart. Rags. The pickers can collect them. Strong ones can even snatch a spirit right as the body dies and keep it from passing across.”

  Leo frowned. “Why? And what does that have to do with Percy?”

  But I’d already made the jump. “That’s what felt so familiar!”

  Everybody looked at me. Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Only Price knew I could reach into the trace dimension, and I hadn’t said anything about the fact that sometimes I could feel things bumping me, or that lately someone had been trying to grab me and called my name. I’d realized that the blankets were bits of spirits quilted together. They felt a little like trace, but more like the sensation I got when the dead bumped into me.