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Vesik Series Boxset Book 3

Page 15

by Eric Asher


  I blinked, trying to understand what I was seeing. It took a few seconds to register the fact it was Foster, with a flamethrower slung over one shoulder, screaming like some possessed warrior god. I didn’t know if that flamethrower would be enough to take down a creature the size of the Green Men, but with Aeros following the fairy, the remaining Green Man had decided it’d had enough. I watched as it slipped through a copse of trees and vanished. The flamethrower cut off, and Foster released a guttural scream.

  Sam had helped me back to my feet by the time Foster made it to us. He was walking beside one of the guardsmen, who now had the flamethrower Foster had been using strapped across his own back.

  Considering the guardsman only glanced up at Aeros a few times, I thought he was handling the insanity of the battle quite well. The skeletons rattled off a brief staccato, pointed toward the river, and hurried back through the carnage of the burnt tent city.

  “What the hell did they say?” I asked.

  “They said Graybeard has summoned them,” Aeros said. “It is time for the Bone Sails to dock.”

  “Here?” I asked.

  Aeros offered me a broad smile. “Yes.”

  I shrugged. No energy left for arguing about why it might be uncomfortable for some people to have a ghost ship manned by a literal skeleton crew docked in their town.

  “Did you do that?” the guardsman asked as he came to a stop beside me and Sam.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sorry if I scared you. Necromancy isn’t always pretty to watch.”

  The man’s uniform told me he wasn’t a guardsman all. He was a Ranger, and I had literally no idea what the hell he was doing here.

  “There are wounded in the command center,” I said. “Foster, I don’t think … I don’t think Foster can heal them and survive.”

  “Come on,” the Ranger said, “I’m well versed in trauma care.”

  Sam scooped the Ranger up and tore across the field.

  “I don’t know if that was a good idea,” I said. “In fact, that may have been a very bad idea.” I wobbled on my feet a little.

  Foster put his good arm under mine, and we hobbled beside the Old God. A soldier nodded to us as we passed.

  “What wasn’t a good idea?” Foster asked. “Me going toe to toe with Drake? Who I’m fairly certain is actually Drake? Or you closing yourself up in that goddamned gravemaker again? Or maybe Aeros trying to take on a tree twice his size?”

  Aeros looked down at Foster, and his eye lights narrowed. “Samantha Vesik is much more entertaining than you.”

  I flashed the rock a grin. We hobbled around the corner of the command building in time to see the Ranger staring slack-jawed at the brilliant white light that exploded from inside it.

  The light faded, and as my vision cleared, I saw Aideen breathing deeply and staring down at the now-healed private. When she stepped to the side, I froze at the presence of Nixie, looking like a silver-clad warrior goddess. Her hair was tied back with a length of silver rope, and her piercing blue-green eyes locked onto mine.

  “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be here sooner,” she said quietly. “But you have slain our enemy here, and sent a message stronger than any I hoped we could.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Nixie looked down at the injured private and frowned. I realized who the private was in that moment: the same man who had threatened us outside the shop. The same man who had opened fire on us and vowed to kill us all. Stacy.

  “Ha,” I said.

  “Did you let them touch me?” Private Stacy asked, tentatively pressing his stomach where his wounds had been.

  “They saved your life,” Casper said. “Now pull your head out of your ass.”

  “You let them touch me with their magic,” he spat. “You damned me to hell.”

  “Did the military give you leave to die?” Park snapped. “These people are the only reason any of us are alive right now.”

  “You’re wrong,” the private said. “They’re the only reason any of us are here.”

  The fact the man had a point irritated me. Part of me knew it was their commanders who had sent them here, so close to the river, but another part of me knew that it was true—they wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for us.

  Perhaps they would have been there to watch over the ruins of Saint Charles if we hadn’t been there to stop it.

  “Park,” I said, “This is Nixie. She’s one of the leaders in the rebellion against the water witch queen and Gwynn Ap Nudd.”

  Nixie’s eyes lifted slowly from the man she’d healed and settled on Park. An awkward smile crossed to the sergeant’s face, as if he’d just realized how deadly the water witch standing before him was.

  “It’s a pleasure. And I hope I have not wasted my time healing your soldier.”

  Park composed himself quickly, and he turned to Aideen. “And thank you. None of my men would have survived if it wasn’t for the intel and weapons you all provided. I’d like to have you brief the troops in a more formal setting. You know infinitely more about our enemies than we do.”

  Private Stacy glowered at Park.

  Park held the man’s gaze before saying, “Get him outside. The medic will be here soon. Take him to a hospital for evaluation.”

  “Gladly,” Casper said. She and one of the other privates dragged the healed man out of the building. Before they were out of earshot, I heard Casper whisper, “Insubordination. He’s a master sergeant, private.”

  “I can take him to the hospital,” Aeros’s voice boomed.

  Casper shook her head just outside the door. “He’s my responsibility.”

  “Very well, friend.”

  “I’d be tempted to let Aeros take him,” Park said. “Maybe knock some sense into the idiot.”

  “What are you going to do now?” Frank asked, inspecting the bandage on his arm. “This place is wrecked.”

  “We have a secondary location,” Park said, “but it’s still too close to the river.”

  “You should station your people on Main Street.”

  I glanced to Frank and frowned slightly. He didn’t miss the gesture.

  “If they’re on Main Street,” Frank said, “and something happens, they can be there in an instant. There’s plenty of space to set up by the art store and on some of the common lots. They’d be close enough together that each unit would act as a scout for another.”

  “You’re talking about urban warfare in the middle of a historic city,” Park said, before I could say much the same thing.

  “No,” Frank said. “It would keep the battalion far enough away from the river to protect against anything outside of a full-scale attack from the undines. Casper and the other snipers would have their pick of the high ground to fire on strays with the stone bullets. We’ve seen the Fae fight enough times to understand what they’re used to. They tend toward big open fields, like an idiot army marching in a straight line.”

  “Hey, now,” Foster said. “We’re mighty fine at killing things, thank you very much.” He winced as Aideen healed the cuts in his wings.

  “Just ignore him,” Aideen said. “He’s probably delirious from the pain.”

  “You mean the excitement of battle,” Foster said.

  Aideen squeezed his arm, releasing a small stream of blood and a high-pitched yelp. “Oh yes,” she said. “The glory of battle.”

  “It’ll work,” Frank said. “Put Graybeard out by the old shipwreck. The barge, I mean.”

  The mere thought of seeing the Bone Sails docked just off Main Street made me consider Frank’s words. Graybeard knew how to fight the dark-touched. His crew were startlingly efficient, bones though they were. And if the dark-touched ever descended on Saint Charles with a harbinger, Graybeard would know how to fight it. He’d helped us save the Arch not so long ago.

  “The idea has some merit,” I said.

  “The idea,” Nixie said, “is brilliant. Park, if you station your men here, we’ll provide support on the river.”
>
  Park nodded.

  “There are three points in this country we believe she will attack. One is near Falias, or inside its borders. One is here. And the other … is Rivercene.”

  I frowned at Nixie. “Rivercene?”

  She nodded.

  “Are you talking about the bed-and-breakfast out near Columbia?” Park asked.

  “Well,” I said. “You go there, get the soufflé.”

  Park blinked at me, a blank expression on his face.

  “Damian likes to base strategies on food,” Sam said. “You’ll have to forgive him.”

  I fought back a smile before I caught sight of Casper’s down-turned face. She was looking at one of her friends, still on the ground outside. I could tell one of the dark-touched had gotten them, based on the claws that had ripped her friend’s back. My good humor died. It was easy to forget that not everyone had seen the horrors we had. It was easy to forget that they might not consider ill-timed humor the best way to relieve tension after a battle.

  “Thank you,” Park said. “I’ll make that recommendation when I brief the commanders.”

  “If you need us,” I said, “you can find us at the shop.”

  * * *

  Sam’s mood eased a bit after Aideen healed the bullet wound in Frank’s arm. We asked Park repeatedly if we could help stay and clean up the site, but he declined the offer just as much. He didn’t want us there when his superiors arrived, afraid we would be too unsettling.

  I supposed I could understand that. Park and his soldiers had likely never seen battlefield magic before. It could be jarring, and some of the incantations we’d thrown around would be intimidating, even to a seasoned mage.

  The water in the shower of my old apartment sputtered, and I yelped when it turned to a freezing temperature for a moment before returning to normal.

  “It’s not that cold,” Nixie said with a small laugh. “Now, am I going to have to drag you out of the shower, or are you coming willingly? We only have thirty minutes.”

  I turned to face her, the shower hammering on my back. Her face gleamed with the water running off her hair. I ran my fingers through the long strands, taking in the scent of the ocean that followed her everywhere.

  “We’ll see our friends soon enough,” she said. “This is our time.” She pressed her lips against mine before pressing a great deal more against me.

  * * *

  “Why do you still live in this … shit bucket?” she asked.

  I grinned at her. “I think you mean shithole.”

  She frowned slightly. “Perhaps, but the question stands, regardless.”

  I glanced down at the singed berber carpet before raising my feet up onto the old oak coffee table. “I guess it’s still home.”

  She sighed and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “At least the couch is comfortable.”

  “And there are chimichangas in the freezer.”

  Nixie blew out a breath and shook her head, before releasing a sigh.

  “We need to go.”

  “I know,” Nixie said. “I was just thinking about what Park said. About his superiors. He’s going to show them some of the footage of that battle, and I’m not sure how they’ll respond.”

  “Yeah, but like you said, we have bigger things to worry about right now. Best case scenario, it’ll get some of the soldiers on our side. They know we’re the good guys, and if Graybeard is actually going to dock the ship right in front of Main Street, they need to see you.”

  “Things were simpler when we were hidden,” Nixie said. She threw off her blanket and stood up to stretch. She glanced over her shoulder and caught me shamelessly staring at her ass.

  “We need to go,” I said.

  “What’s five more minutes?”

  I hesitated. “I’m sure five more minutes won’t hurt.” I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down to the couch into an ungraceful tangle of limbs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I’d reluctantly managed to get dressed and ready to go while Nixie slipped back into her armor. I offered to help tie off the metal straps in the back, but she only smiled as power rippled through the armor, tightening the metal ties and locking the silver clasps closed.

  “So, you mean you could’ve just popped that off when we got home?” I asked.

  “Of course,” Nixie said, “but where’s the fun in that?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Why are you here?” I asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you are, but I thought you were stuck in Europe.”

  “I had an unexpected ally offer her assistance when she learned of the plot here.”

  “Who?”

  “Morrigan,” Nixie said. Before I could ask anything more, she continued. “She has served on the courts nearly as long as Nudd himself. She knows what a tyrant he can be, and she understands the damage he has already done.”

  “Can you trust her?”

  Nixie was silent for a time. “To an extent, I suppose. She has long had a history of doing what will benefit her, but she has also committed selfless acts to strengthen the courts.”

  “And you think she sees Nudd as a threat to the strength of the courts?”

  Nixie nodded.

  I hefted my backpack over my shoulders and frowned. “I sure as hell hope you’re right.”

  Nixie led the way out the door and down the old wooden stairs.

  “If Morrigan’s in Faerie,” I said, “who’s in Falias? Who else is supporting the Obsidian Inn?”

  “Leviticus, for one,” she said, raising her nose to the wind. “You should move somewhere with less industry, someplace more like the cabin. It suits you, and it does not … smell.”

  “Hey, now,” I said.

  Nixie shot me a cutting grin.

  We climbed into my car, and I remembered the first time I’d seen Nixie get into the old ’32 Ford. Her hair had been much longer then, almost to her knees. I’d worried about how tangled up it was in the seatbelts and the doorjamb, but she’d only given it a gentle tug to pull the entire mass of hair safely into the car. Sometimes I missed those days. I’d been able to see her a little more often than I did now. The times had changed. We had changed.

  “Have you spoken to the werewolves?” I asked. “They’ve been tied up with some nasty business with the dark-touched over in Kansas City.”

  “I’m aware. Camazotz joined them. I imagine the conflict there will end soon.”

  “Maybe they can lend their support to Rivercene,” I said. “I worry about the innkeeper being so far from us.”

  “She is far from everyone,” Nixie said. “Without the use of the Warded Ways, none of our enemies can reach her at speed.”

  “The queen’s undines can,” I said, turning the wheel and pulling back out onto the highway. The car bounced over a small pothole, which felt more like a crater because of my car’s ancient suspension. “The Missouri River practically cuts to Rivercene’s front door.”

  “When the queen receives word that I’m here with you,” she said, “I have no doubt she’ll split her forces. She’ll believe the Obsidian Inn to be weakened, when they are anything but. And she’ll aim to strike both of us down in one assault.”

  “It’s kind of dangerous to be your boyfriend,” I said with a half smile.

  “I believe the word is thrilling,” she said.

  A humorless laugh fell from my lips as we rumbled back onto the cobblestones of old Saint Charles.

  I turned off Main Street and headed up Adams. I could see Park through the glass in the front door, true to his word, and a bit more punctual than me and Nixie.

  “That man has a great respect for Frank,” Nixie said. “I don’t believe he would’ve allowed us to heal that private otherwise.”

  “Stacy?” I asked as we bounced in the rear parking lot. “He believed it would kill Aideen. And that if Aideen died, Foster would come for his head.”

  I frowned slightly. “He probably has a good point. And Foster wouldn’t just com
e for his head. He’d come for tiny little pieces.”

  “Are you bothered by that?” Nixie asked.

  “It would probably be a bit hypocritical of me.” I glanced at her, and she eyed me. “If something ever happened to you, whoever or whatever caused it would have a fairly terrible fate.”

  “Such poetry,” Nixie said. “I asked because you tensed. Your knuckles are still white.”

  I looked down at the steering wheel and slowly released my death grip. “There’s too much at stake. We can’t afford to lose …” I shook my head.

  “It’s a price every civilization has paid. It’s the way of the world.”

  She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I took a deep breath, and we climbed out of the car.

  The deadbolt started up before we even crossed the parking lot. “Disgusting. Mating with a mortal. A necromancer. What would your ancestors think? What do your contemporaries think?”

  Before I could even respond, Nixie gave the deadbolt a swift kick to the face, and it snapped open. “Thank you, doorman,” she said in an exuberant voice.

  I frowned at the cringing face and wondered if we should have used the front door.

  “Peanut! No!”

  Peanut? I wondered, knowing that Peanut was still guarding the coven with Ashley. A furry green shadow hit me like a battering ram a moment later, a smaller yet still very pink tongue licking every inch of my face like wet sandpaper. I gasped for breath after I bounced off the wall. Peanut jumped up on his hind legs, still licking me as I fell toward the ground. He was nice enough to hop up and down on top of me while I tried to roll and get away.

  “Oh, Damian,” Ashley said as she reached the back room. “Are you alive? Are you drowning in tongue?”

  So many opportunities for a terrible joke, but all I could do was try to fend off the pink monstrosity. “Help!” I squawked.

  “Peanut,” Ashley said. “Oreos.”

  The 200-some-odd-pound cu sith happily jumped up and down in my chest before using me as a launching pad to rocket back over to Ashley.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. Bubbles and Peanut bumped their heads together, excitedly waiting for Ashley to gift more Oreos to them. I groaned as Nixie helped me to my feet.

 

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