by S. M. Reine
Fritz pressed a brief kiss to Cèsar’s lips again, now as familiar as though it were something they had always done. Cèsar’s skin flared with diamond-bright magic. A pleasant burn.
It didn’t hurt anymore.
“I have the room across the hall,” Fritz said. He tried to stand.
Cèsar didn’t let go of his arm. “Stay.”
“Hawke…”
“Don’t make me beg, man. You can’t tell me I’m the only one who’d rest better with the right company.”
A smile slanted over Fritz’s mouth. Cèsar used to think of it as a villainous smirk in the most affectionate way possible. “I don’t think we’ll rest if I stay here.”
Cèsar couldn’t hide his reaction to the implication. Sidhe magic had liked Fritz. It wanted a lot more of Fritz.
If Cèsar was being honest with himself, he did too.
“Damn, Fritz. Jumping the gun on our budding romance. You’re so fucking gay.”
“I wasn’t implying anything perverse. I meant we’d end up arguing like this,” Fritz said.
“Sure you did. Look, I’m not in any condition to argue or…you know, anything. Use your self-restraint and we’ll be fine. Just…” Cèsar couldn’t meet his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Stay. Please.”
Fritz stepped back. Cesar had to let him go. It wasn’t like he could hold the guy down.
But Fritz only moved enough to shed his outermost parka, and then his jacket. He was shivering by the time he reached a knitted white turtleneck, and that was when he crawled into the bed beside Cèsar.
Wordlessly—no begging, no apologizing, no jokes—Fritz settled against the length of him, one hand on Cèsar’s heart where iron hadn’t wounded him.
“If I had my way, I would still be your kopis,” Fritz said quietly, into the darkness, his shivers slowing as he shared in Cèsar’s unseelie warmth.
“I’d be your aspis, too.” Cèsar put his hand atop Fritz’s. They lay together, resting and healing, silent under the weight of new winter and worlds unexplored.
CHAPTER 23
Sophie didn’t ask Titania’s permission before reclaiming her destrier, pulling Lincoln onto the saddle with her, and leaving Falias.
The ride home was long and quiet.
Funny how the sight of her little cabin filled her with such comfort. It was surrounded by dead trees and less than half a kilometer away from the Lia Fáil—now a crater in the hillside—yet she was delighted to see it anyway.
She filled a bucket with water for the destrier. Lincoln brought out some kitchen scraps without even being asked. Then they retreated inside the quiet confines of her home, where Sophie had spent the last month waiting.
“I have to admit,” she said after putting on the kettle, “I feel like the proximity of my cabin to the Lia Fáil was no coincidence, nor was the fact I happened to meet you at the redoubt. I now know why the gods wanted me here.”
“You’re thinking it’s fate?” Lincoln asked from one of her dining room chairs. “Not just happy coincidence?”
“I’ve never believed in such a thing,” Sophie said.
She poured two cups of tea and set them on the table. She took the seat across from Lincoln, where Cèsar had sat barely days earlier. So much had happened since then. Her tiny world had momentarily become huge. But now she was here between four cramped walls, the blankets she’d crocheted, and her Seeing Salad Bowl. This was her world again. All of it.
Lincoln sipped his tea.
He didn’t look inclined to speak, and ordinarily, Sophie would have permitted it. Yet it was impossible to be the keeper of arcane knowledge without gaining a thirst for more of it. She could not keep her questions waiting. “What was inside the cathedral?” she asked.
He didn’t seem to hear. He stared into the depths of his teacup.
Sophie repeated herself louder. “What was inside the cathedral, Lincoln?”
He took a long, slow drink. Set down the cup.
Lincoln said, “Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?”
He shook his head. “It’s all fake. Nothing in there. The light’s just sidhe magic. You know, putting on a good show.”
Sophie gave a little laugh, like she wasn’t disappointed. “I feared as much. I’m surprised that you chose not to say anything when you emerged from the cathedral. Titania’s claims of being some kind of prophet are a noteworthy portion of her tenuous control over the Middle Worlds.”
“Exactly,” Lincoln said. “I’m not trying to destroy Falias. Got no investment in that.”
“I would think you’d be invested in people knowing the truth about the gods,” Sophie said. “Or knowing what isn’t true about them, if nothing else.”
He took another sip. “I’m not sure the truth’s in my best interests.” His cup was empty. “Can I have more?”
“Perhaps something slightly stronger,” Sophie said. She shuffled through her cabinets, searching for a bottle in the back. She mixed up another cup of tea for him, this time with a dollop of amber fluid. “This is very strong brandy-like liquor from a nearby spring. Best to be consumed by the teaspoon, as the dreadful hangover I had shortly after Genesis can attest.”
She turned to hand him the cup, but he was already right behind her. Lincoln had taken off his hat and jacket. He was still a large man, and Sophie took a startled step back to see him looming. She bumped into the counter.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said. “Hot toddy does sound good.” He leaned against the counter beside her, holding the cup so he could inhale its steam on every breath. “I remember parts of Inanna’s life, but not everything.”
“That’s what I would expect for a Remnant. You are only one piece of many, after all,” she said. “Do you believe what I’ve said about the gods now? How there was never only one?”
“No. Maybe. Damn, Sophie, I have no idea. It’s a lot to take in.” He shot a sideways glance at her. “If it is true, am I a god?”
“Only a memory of one. It’s likely you took on a piece of her soul in Genesis—your unique method of Rebirth. For the most part, you remain the same Lincoln Marshall you have always been.”
“So if you think you were here to be close to the Lia Fáil and to run into me, you must be done here. Right?” Lincoln asked. “Come back to Earth. Help me figure out…everything.”
The suggestion made her heart ache a little. It was nice to see her cabin, but seeing Earth briefly had made her a different kind of homesick. And there was nothing sickening about the sheer exhilaration she had lived in these past few days. Sophie craved more. “But what if my guardians come looking for me here?”
“What if they don’t?” Lincoln asked.
“I have hope,” she said quietly. “I must have hope.” She sipped at her own tea, letting the bitter herbs roll over her tongue.
He set his cup down. “Come to Earth.”
“There is nothing for me there.”
“There could be,” Lincoln said. “If you want.”
Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m afraid that I’m not always the best at interpreting peoples’ intent. Could you please be clearer?”
“I like you,” Lincoln said. “Probably more than I should. I don’t like the thought of you languishing here when you’ve got so much to give the world, and I’d like to spend more time with you. We can look for answers together. And maybe we could have dinner together in the meantime to see how we get along when we’re not in mortal peril. Is that clear enough?”
She swallowed hard. “Much clearer, yes.” And she wanted to be flattered, but… “Did you tell Cèsar that you don’t find ‘Blacks’ attractive?”
Lincoln stiffened. “He told you that?”
“He was warning me about you,” Sophie said. “He thought I should be careful.”
“Look, I can see how that sounds bad—”
“Because it is bad,” she said. “Please understand, Mr. Marshall—Lincoln—that I would love to help you search for answers, but my re
sponsibility remains protecting the history only I know. Furthermore, I am not interested in exploring our relationship beyond a functional one.”
Lincoln stepped away from her. A lot of steps back. He receded toward the other side of the cabin, and there were storm clouds in his eyes that looked an awful lot like violence waiting to happen. “My mistake. Guess I got the wrong impression.”
She could have told him that it was the right impression, and that would have been honest too. Sophie did like Lincoln. But he had instantly rejected her based upon skin color. It was tenuous enough grounds to build a partnership upon, but no grounds for more.
“I don’t like you much anyway,” Lincoln said gruffly, grabbing his hat. “You make me uncomfortable. I was just trying to be friendly. Seemed like I owed you something after your help, but I don’t.”
Heat pricked at her eyes. “Of course not.” He put his hat on. Sophie stood back to let him prepare, her fingers coiled around her tea to leech its warmth. “What are you going to do on Earth?”
“There’s more Remnants out there. More people who’ve got pieces of this puzzle.” He tapped his temple with a knuckle.
“If you learn more, I’d love to hear it,” Sophie said. “You’ll know where to find me.”
“Will do.” Still, Lincoln didn’t leave. He took a long last look at Sophie. “Promise me something. If nobody comes looking for you soon? Go looking for them.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. Lincoln ducked out the door, and she watched him from her cabin window as he trudged up the hill, skirted the edge of the crater, and vanished into the brilliant blue sky.
Lincoln reached the ley line alone. For a long moment, he gazed into its gleaming blue depths, and he thought about taking a step backward instead of forward.
Nothing was waiting for Sophie on Earth.
And nothing was waiting for him in the Summer Court.
He passed through the ley line. Lincoln reappeared on Earth surrounded by OPA agents.
His time in custody was brief. They debriefed him on what he was allowed to discuss publicly (nothing) and gave him paperwork that showed his record as expunged. The entire time he spent there, he saw neither Friederling nor Cèsar.
And nobody asked questions about Remnants.
The last official he saw was Edie Ashe, the same healer who had worked on him in Reno. “We’re still not sure if there’s any physical toll on mundanes traveling between planes,” she explained as she donned rubber gloves. “We’re keeping a close eye on it for now.”
Lincoln grunted his acceptance, surrendering blood and urine samples.
“That’s all,” Edie said when he was done. “You’re free to go. I’ll walk you to a car.”
She led him through the maze of canvas tents that had sprung up around the ley line, reaching a waiting black car with government plates. Edie opened the door for Lincoln.
He slid into the car, shut the door, and slept all the way to Reno.
The next day, Lincoln Marshall found himself standing on the edge of Eloquent Blood’s half-collapsed entrance tunnel, looking down at the bar. Cassandra was laying sandbags around the dining area at the moment. It was still raining in Reno and the Truckee was swelling over its banks.
Lincoln sloshed through a quarter-inch of water to help move sandbags. Cassandra looked startled to recognize him.
“Oh, shit,” she said. “You can’t be here.”
“I’m not making trouble,” he said.
“You might not, but they will,” Cassandra muttered under her breath, through her teeth. She jerked her head toward a table in the corner.
It was those shifters again. Spencer and Javi.
“They’re the reason I came here,” Lincoln said, tossing another sandbag onto the pile. The rain rushed louder outside, thunder echoing down the tunnel. “But I meant it when I said I’m not planning to make trouble. I mean it, Cass.”
Her shoulders didn’t unknot. “Then do what you gotta do and clear out. I don’t want your help with the sandbags.”
Of course she didn’t. Nobody wanted Lincoln around.
Almost nobody.
He picked his way over the half-wall. It was dry on the other side except for damp footprints. When he approached the corner table, Spencer and Javi looked up, and there was instant violence in their eyes.
Spencer stood, shoving his chair back. Javi grabbed his sleeve.
“Peace, gentlemen,” Lincoln said, holding his hands up to show they were clear. “I owe you two an apology.”
“Thought you hated fags,” Javi snarled.
Lincoln wasn’t gonna touch that. “I’ve been in a bad spot. I picked a fight I shouldn’t have, especially now that I have to ask a favor. I understand you go to meetings at some church honoring NKF?”
“What about it?” Spencer asked. “Got a problem with it?”
“I want to go,” Lincoln said.
The coyote shifters exchanged suspicious looks. “This some trick?” Javi asked as Spencer eased back into his seat.
“No, sirs. I’ve had my faith shaken hard. I could use a guiding hand and a little more information,” Lincoln said.
Spencer still looked suspicious, but he took a flier out of his jacket and handed it to Lincoln. It had a large cross in the middle, and an address written on the side. “We meet every day at six.”
“Thanks,” Lincoln said. Six o’clock in the evening was still a good eight hours away. Plenty of time. “Y’all gentlemen have a good afternoon.”
Their eyes kept burning on his back, boring holes between his shoulders, as he walked away with the flier.
He climbed back out the tunnel, leaving behind Eloquent Blood and Cassandra’s sand bags. The gutters were overflowing, and water soaked into his socks on the first step.
He only had to walk around the corner before he saw it.
A white cathedral.
It wasn’t the church that was supposed to be there. Lincoln should have been walking past St. Thomas of Aquinas Cathedral, where he’d had that first vision of Inanna. This church was a looming rectangle of white stone, with stained glass windows that depicted no saints, and a spire that didn’t have a cross at its top.
The church from Falias.
“Right on time,” he muttered.
Lincoln stuffed the flier into his back pocket as he climbed the steps again. He seized the heavy gold handle and opened it. Brilliant light flooded out, shining in his eyes, and he didn’t fear being burned to death this time. Not now that he knew who was on the other side.
Lincoln stepped inside the cathedral, the doors slammed shut behind him, and the entire building vanished.
Lincoln Marshall’s journey continues…
Spellsmoke
* * *
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hi! I’m Sara, a super-prolific author who publishes as SM Reine. I’ve put out over fifty titles, most of which are urban fantasy, and all of which serve as evidence of my nonexistent social life.
I’m a proud Nevadan, an enthusiastic mom-nerd, and animal hoarder in possession of cats, dogs, toads, bees, and little boys. I write gratuitous violence to balance out my real-life chill. I like kissing books and science fiction movies.
If you occasionally think “Hey! I wish I could see a million pictures of some random author’s dogs and children!” then you should follow me on Instagram. I also say stupid things on Twitter a lot. The best way to find out when I have new books is to join my list for new release email alerts, though. Allons-y!
smreine.com
Did you love Lonesome Paladin? Then you should read Spellsmoke by SM Reine!
It's not much of a life, taking bounty hunts on vampires. But as a disgraced former deputy, Lincoln Marshall's not exactly knee-deep in job offers, and airplane tickets are expensive after the apocalypse. His dying father is all the way across the country in Northgate. It's Lincoln's last chance to see him, and he'll do whatever it takes to ge
t there - even though the werewolf pack in Northgate is still out for his blood.Sophie Keyes, the one and only Historian, needs Lincoln's help. She fears the gods may be out to kill her. So Lincoln drags her back home despite his better instincts - only to learn that home's not exactly safer than Reno. Some preternatural monster is killing hospice patients in Northgate.Sheriff Noah Adair is convinced the killers are werewolves. The werewolves are convinced Lincoln Marshall is the killer. And Lincoln thought surviving the post-apocalypse had been bad enough before all this crap.Book 2 of the A Fistful of Daggers series.
Read more at SM Reine’s site.
Also by SM Reine
A Fistful of Daggers
Lonesome Paladin
Spellsmoke
Hell's Hinges (Coming Soon)
Artifact Hunters
Reign of Monsters (Coming Soon)
Ein Tarothexen-Liebesroman
Wolf im Käfig
Preternatural Affairs
Witch Hunt
Silver Bullet
Hotter Than Helltown
Shadow Burns
Deadly Wrong
Ashes and Arsenic
Once Darkness Falls
Bitter Thirst
The Road to Helltown
Wretched Wicked (Coming Soon)
Preternatural Affairs, Books 1-3: Witch Hunt, Silver Bullet, and Hotter Than Helltown
Seasons of the Moon
Six Moon Summer
Seasons of the Moon Series, Books 1-4: Six Moon Summer, All Hallows' Moon, Long Night Moon, and Gray Moon Rising
All Hallows' Moon
Gray Moon Rising
Long Night Moon
Tarot Witches
Caged Wolf
Forbidden Witches
Winter Court
Summer Court
The Ascension Series
Sacrificed in Shadow
Oaths of Blood
Ruled by Steel
Caged in Bone
