Repairer of the Breach (Stones of Fire Book 4)

by Sarah Ashwood

  Sean mumbled some sort of response, enough to satisfy the medical personnel, who gathered up their equipment and moved on to the next person needing assistance. They were barely out of earshot, when Sean laughed, low and dark.

  “‘Nothing too strenuous,’ he says. Does killing your wife and your rival count as too strenuous?”

  Carter saw the expression that fell across Ellie’s features.

  “Mr. Costas, you—you shouldn’t talk like that,” she reprimanded gently, and almost a little nervously, with a glance at the two cops.

  Sean brushed the rebuke aside. “Why? Because they might hear?” Again, he laughed, humorlessly. “They know. That one’s been in my pocket for years, haven’t you, Tozzi?” The detective shuffled his feet, uncomfortable. His female partner shot him a piercing glance, even as Sean added, “And she’s in it too deep now to ever get out. No, Ellie, it’s no secret. And it’s not going to be when I bring hell to those two women, either.”

  He looked directly at Carter now, addressing him, ignoring Ellie’s obvious dismay.

  “Gather our forces. All of them. Every last one. No more nipping at each other’s heels like a pack of dogs. No more taking out the slow and the stragglers while the main pack escapes. No more guerilla warfare. We make an end of it. Now. If Nosizwe wins, she has the blood and the Stones and does what she wants. If I kill her and Ciara, then I have the Stones and the matter is put to rest.”

  “Will do.” Carter rose to begin carrying out his boss’s orders, but stopped when he felt Ellie grab his hand.

  “Carter, can we talk?”

  He caught the exchange of glances between the cops, his employer, and Javier. Undoubtedly they were all thinking the same thing. She was the good girl, the minister’s kid, inadvertently drawn into this war. She’d never liked it. She’d never approved of the feuding, the bloodshed. She never would. She was going to try and talk him out of it now, putting him directly between his wife and her beliefs and his mentor, his people, the job he’d always done, the life he’d always led.

  There he was, a central figure in the entire mess. The one whose blood had opened the doorway to the other world. The one called the Repairer of the Breach. The one given the flaming sword. He couldn’t back out. Even for Ellie. Could he?

  Gently, he took her hand, pulled her up.

  “We’ll talk,” he said, both hands clasping her shoulders, squeezing lightly, reassuring. “Not now. But we’ll talk.”

  “Carter—”

  “Ellie.” He overrode her arguments. “I can’t get into this right now. I have a job to do.”

  Her lips firmed. Parted. Closed. Firmed. She was struggling with what to say and how to say it. Finally, she reached up and pulled his hands off her shoulders, saying quietly, “You know what the right thing is, Carter. Please do it.”

  The right thing? There were too many things he was supposed to do and be. Too much at stake. Too many matters and people involved. Too many issues. What if he didn’t know what the right thing was? Did anyone?

  The words fell into his gut like a badly digested meal and sat there churning.

  Ellie turned away. “I’m going to see if there’s anyone else I can help,” she murmured.

  And she walked off, leaving him, Sean, the cops, and Javier by themselves.

  Heavy silence draped the group, broken by the shuffling of emergency workers in the background, hunting for bodies, hunting for victims. Sean’s people were on scene too, moving debris and throwing up makeshift supports to shore up walls. The situation here was getting back in hand, but the bigger situation—a final confrontation between Sean and his wife, his archenemy—that was only just beginning.

  Chapter Twenty

  I’d said I was going to look for more people to help, and I did, but the emergency personnel prowling all over the scene seemed to have that well in hand. While searching, I wound up seeing three or four familiar faces that I’d noticed around the mansion—Sean’s people—gathered around a prostrate body. My heart sank. I’d temporarily forgotten James. I made my way over and stood feeling helpless as they cleared rubble to free his body. Tears filled my eyes, and I turned my back momentarily so nobody would see my sniffle. I’d seen at a glance that he was dead. His pallor against the burn marks, the blood, the gaping wound on the side of his skull…

  Carter was right. Nobody could help him now.

  After a few deep breaths, I was able to face the body again, just as the young man was being lifted and moved. They carried him to a nearby bedroom in a part of the mansion that hadn’t sustained any damage, laying him out on the bed to be dealt with after the wounded were cared for. I trailed along. Nobody tried to stop me. I guess I’d become enough of a fixture around here that people accepted my presence as Carter’s wife, my lack of shapeshifting abilities aside.

  “What happened?” I asked into the sad silence. “What happened here? What caused this?”

  One of the young women who’d assisted in carrying the body turned to look at me.

  “Weren’t you here?”

  “I was outside, on the other side of the house,” I explained. “I heard the explosion, but I didn’t see what caused it. Carter said…a phoenix?”

  “Yes.” Her face was grave, her pale eyes sad. “It was Darla, Mrs. Costas’ personal assistant. She must have believed Mrs. Costas was being threatened in some way. She used her abilities—phoenixes can do this, you know. Can sort of, I don’t know how to explain it it—explode into flame. Anyway, that’s what she did, and someone said she took Mrs. Costas with her. Flew off. I don’t know where they went.

  “I can’t believe this happened,” she summarized sadly, turning back to James’ inert body. “He was such a good guy.” She sniffled, dashing a hand under her nose. “Liberty’s going to be heartbroken,” she added. “She really liked him.”

  “I doubt it,” Tracy chimed in grimly. I hadn’t seen her come in, but she’d entered the room and stood behind my shoulder, also staring down at James. “I heard from Eric that Liberty pulled out yesterday. No official resignation or anything. Rumor has it she, uh, changed sides.”

  Everyone else exclaimed in surprise, but at this point I was far from shocked. Liberty, James’ girlfriend, going behind his back, pulling strings, acting as a traitor.

  That explained a lot.

  My guts churned. I tried to think. I knew from the two police detectives that Carter had come here to inform his boss about his wife’s duplicity. Then Mrs. Costas had shown up. I surmised there had been a confrontation inside the house. Mrs. Costas had been threatened by her husband—possibly Carter too. Whatever had happened had been bad enough that Darla went to extremes to remove her boss from the situation. Undoubtedly, they’d escaped to Nosizwe. I wasn’t sure how a phoenix carrying a woman, flying through the Texas sky, would go unnoticed. Then again, they’d probably flown over the compound wall and out of immediate danger, then called someone to pick them up. I couldn’t imagine them taking the chance of soaring over the city, potentially exposing themselves to the view of millions.

  All of that aside, we now had a dead man. A friend. Sort of. The very real and very high cost of this unending feud was in front of me. I wanted to shake these people, scream at them, ask them was it worth it? Was it worth it? The turmoil, the fighting, the bloodshed?

  Unable to stomach it any longer, I walked out, giving Tracy’s hand a squeeze as I passed her. I didn’t know if it was the remnants of smoke and dust in the air, but I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My head was pounding and my vision blurry. I stumbled down the grand, central staircase and dashed through the foyer, barely making it outside before I collapsed, leaning onto the mansion wall for support. I gulped multiple long, deep breaths before I tentatively pushed away from the wall and threaded my way through the milieu of emergency vehicles crowding the front of the mansion. I simply wandered until I found a semi-silent, semi-private bench on the grounds where I sank down exhausted, heartsick, and full of fear. I put my head in my hands and
tried to pray, tried to process what I should do next, tried to think, tried to plan.

  Rational thoughts refused to come. They were as scattered as my broken prayers. On top of everything was James’ white face, streaked with blood, and hearing Mr. Costas tell Carter to gather the troops. And Carter agreeing to it.

  This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. What was the point of all that Repairer of the Breach crap if it’s just going to come to an all-out, final battle that’s been building for years anyway? What was the point of that crazy trip to the other world? What was the point of the flaming sword? What was the point of any of this? He’ll go into battle as the Talos, and maybe he’ll survive. Maybe they’ll overwhelm him. Maybe they’ll take Sean or someone else he cares about and use them against him like they did me—if they still think his blood is needed to unlock the Stones. Whatever happens, there’s no way for him to escape unscathed. I don’t get it. What was the point? What was the point?

  Into this melee, this maelstrom of doubts and confusion, came Carter. I knew by his approaching gait that it was him. I felt him sit down next to me. He didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t try to touch me. I didn’t have to look at him to sense his unease. We just sat there, me trying desperately not to be devoured by fear and even anger, trying desperately to suppress all the things I really wanted to say. Finally, he cleared his throat.

  Here it comes, I thought.

  Carter had waited long enough that some of the first responders were climbing into vehicles and starting to leave. His voice was quiet, somber.

  “Ellie,” he said. I felt him reach for my hand, gently pry it from my face. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay. I know you’re not.”

  I lowered my other hand from my face, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Still, I was able to resist the instinct to pull my hand away.

  “No, I’m not, Carter.”

  My voice sounded strained, pitiful. Weak even to me.

  “I’m sorry about James.”

  “You should be,” I snapped without thinking. “He was your friend more than mine.”

  So badly I wanted to add, “See? See where this war and feuding and fighting gets you? Your friends dead. Killed for no reason. What’s the point, Carter?”

  But I didn’t. He knew what I was thinking without me saying it. Half-apologetically, he said, “You know I have to do this, right?”

  I counted to ten before trusting myself to reply. “No, Carter. I don’t know that you have to do this. You have a choice. You’re a free man. You have a free will. You can still say no.”

  “He’s my boss, Ellie. More than that. He’s—”

  “I know.” I straightened, sitting upright, but still couldn’t look my husband in the eye. “I know what he is to you.”

  “Then you know why I have to go. If I hadn’t been there today, he’d be dead now.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But it would’ve been between him and his wife. Not him, his wife, you, and everyone else that’s going to be dragged into it.”

  “None of us wants to be dragged into it, Ellie,” he said. I could hear exasperation rising in his voice. “We were dragged into it by being born who and what we are. Surely you get that.”

  “Surely you—”

  I cut myself off. The exact same argument, round and around and round and around. Neither of us able to convince the other to see their point of view. It was useless. Pointless. Every bit as pointless as the feud, the bloodletting, the war itself.

  “Where does it end, Carter?” I asked gently, more rhetorically than directly. “If Sean kills his wife—his wife—and Nosizwe, if he gets control of the Stones, what then? He knows your blood does something, unlocks the door to somewhere. Do you really think he won’t look into that? Explore it? That he won’t use you?”

  Carter’s scowl told me everything. He didn’t like hearing it because he knew it was true. He’d already considered this and was aware of the possibility.

  “Sean won’t kill me,” he said, but his expression belied his statement.

  “No? He’s killing his wife that he’s seemed to be in love with all these years. I wouldn’t put too much faith in the love of a man like that. When it’s all for the greater good, as he sees it, nothing’s going to stand in his way.”

  “I think you’re misreading him,” Carter protested.

  I released the sigh weighting my chest and stood. “I hope I am. But I’m not going to be around to see what happens.”

  “What does that mean?” Carter stood as well. I turned to face him, feeling nothing but grief in my soul.

  “I love you, Carter,” I said, stepping closer to him, putting my hands on his chest, connecting us physically. I needed him to hear and understand what I was saying. “I know that now. I love you, and I want to be your wife.”

  “You are my wife,” he interrupted, looking puzzled.

  “I know, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it is. It’s—”

  “Ellie, you’re not making any sense.”

  “I would, if you’d be quiet and listen,” I snapped, exasperated. The poignant moment was gone, but I took a deep breath to try again.

  “I want to be your wife, your real wife. I want to make this work—this, us, our marriage. I thought we could. Or I allowed myself to believe we could because I was stupid and in love and swept away by both of us having survived the unimaginable. I wanted it more than I believed it.”

  “What are you trying to say? You’re leaving me? Already? After one night? Hell, that’s a sure way to shoot down my confidence as a lover.”

  “It has nothing to do with that,” I said, a grin twitching my lips in spite of myself. “And you know it. No, I’m not leaving you, as in divorcing you. What I am trying to say is I came in here, guns blazing, ready to defend you to the death if need be against Sean and Ciara and whoever and whatever you might be facing. But you know what? All I’ve learned is that it’s pointless. I can’t save you, Carter, because I can’t save you from yourself. You’re in too deep for me to ever pull you out. If anyone’s going to do that, it’s going to have to be you. I’m done trying to save you when you don’t want to be saved.”

  I could see the range of emotions playing across his face. He’d never been good at hiding his annoyance, and that’s what I saw now. Annoyance, along with a little fear, a little surprise.

  “I don’t need to be saved, Ellie.”

  “Yes, you do, and you don’t see it. That’s the sad part. James’ death—even that isn’t a wakeup call. You could walk away from this right now. Let the dead bury their dead, like the Bible says, and come with me. But you won’t. I’m not even asking you to, because you won’t.”

  His hands circled my wrists, whether to hold onto me for comfort or hold me in place, I couldn’t tell.

  “What are you trying to say, Ellie? What’s the ultimatum here?”

  “I’m not giving you one. I already know you’d choose Sean, your people, and this life over me. I’m not asking you to make that choice. I’m only saying I won’t be around to see you fall. I’m not coming in with guns blazing anymore.”

  “I don’t need you to,” he growled. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I hope so,” I said soberly. “Because it sounds like you’re in for the fight of your life, and I won’t be there.”

  “That’s good. I don’t want you there. I want you as far away as possible. I want you to stay safe.”

  “And who’s going to keep you safe? In the end, Carter, who’s really going to watch your back except me? Who can you trust except me?”

  His mouth opened, closed a couple of times. He wanted to reply, list names. But he knew I was right. He couldn’t say Sean. He couldn’t name any of Sean’s people. He didn’t know, after Ciara’s betrayal, who was loyal and who wasn’t.

  I waited sadly for his answer, but there was none. Finally, with a sigh, I lowered my face and permitted my head to drop against his chest. For a minute, I allowed myself to lean into
the man I’d married. For a minute, I allowed myself to dream about what could have been but now likely never would be. A tear squeezed out from beneath my lashes, my glasses. I reached up to dash it away where he couldn’t see before stepping back. Carter released my wrists. For several long seconds we stood there staring at each other.

  Funny how life had come full circle there at the Costas mansion, where I’d first seen him shapeshift, where I’d married him, where I was now compelled to tell him goodbye. There were so many words bubbling up inside of me that begged for release, but I couldn’t do it. There wasn’t anything left to say. He’d been on this path a long time before he’d met me, and Carter, being who he was, was going to stay on this path until the bitter end.

  “I love you, Ellie,” he said at last, quietly. He wasn’t begging me to stay. He wasn’t offering any apologies for doing what he believed he must do. But he wanted me to know how he felt. I would give him that, at least.

  “I love you too,” I echoed. “I wish—”

  I stopped. Pointless. The word that had been echoing through my soul. Pointless.

  Carter smiled his twisted, wry little smile. “Me too, babe. I wish a lot of things were different. That we could’ve met and just been you and me. Not me the bloodthirsty shapeshifter, and you the good little preacher’s kid.”

  I rolled my eyes, hugging my arms around myself against the slight breeze blowing the smell of smoke away.

  “Very funny. I don’t think you’re particularly bloodthirsty. And, in the end, it was you being a shifter and me being the good little preacher’s kid that brought us together.”

  “And will tear us apart.”

  No, that’s you refusing to walk away from an insupportable lifestyle and an absurd war.

  The rejoinder was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it back. Swallowed. I didn’t want to argue. In my deepest heart of hearts, in a place full of dread and fear, was a heavy sensation that I’d never see him again. I really, truly didn’t want our final meeting, if this was it, to be filled with anger and bitterness. There’d been too much of that in our past.