Fire Kin (28 page)

I reached out and caught her wrist. “I'm all right,” I said.

“You don't even know the meaning of all right. In one day you bring half the Veiled Court down on your head and let Ignatius Grey cut you, and to follow it all up you let a Beast gnaw on your leg.” Her words tumbled out with a passion, her tone rising with each word.

“Technically he clawed me, not chewed on me,” I said gently.

“As if that makes a difference,” she said. “Idiot man.” Her voice wobbled a little on the last syllable. Wobbled. As though she might cry. Bryony, who never cried.

“Well, it's less painful,” I said, and tugged her closer. When she was close enough I eased off the bed so I could stand. Fire arced up and down my leg again, but that didn't matter right here and now. What mattered was making Bryony feel better. I pulled her against me. “I'm all right, love. Truly. Good as new once you fix me. Maybe even better.”

She resisted my embrace, standing stiff in my arms. “Don't call me that.”

“Love? Can't help it. It's the truth.”

She tilted her head back, the dark blue of her eyes deeper than I'd ever seen it. “I—”

“You don't have to say it back,” I said. “Not until you're ready.”

She ducked her head at that and curled herself against me, burying her face in my neck. I held her while she took several shuddering breaths, feeling peace spread through me at the feel of her body against mine. The night had been full of darkness and death, but this—this was light and life and it was what I was fighting for. To make a safe place for her.

Veil take money and glory and whatever other victories war might bring. I would be happy if I could keep Bryony happy and safe. For as long as she let me do so.

I brushed a kiss over her hair and she turned her head, her hand curling to the back of my head, her lips seeking mine.

There was urgency in her kiss. Urgency and confusion and relief, I thought while I could still think about anything more than the feel and taste of her. Everything else, all the pains and aches and fatigue, evaporated momentarily and a different kind of fire rushed through me. My arms tightened around her and pulled her closer. But as I shifted my weight onto my injured leg, the wound protested and I winced.

Bryony must have felt the movement, because she pulled away. “I need to look at that,” she said.

“I can think of other body parts that would prefer your attention,” I grumbled, but I let her go. She sounded normal again, and in truth, unless I was going to lie back and let her do all the work—which was not without a certain appeal—our business could wait until after I was healed.

“I'm sure you can,” she said. “But if I need to be patient, so do you.” But a smile curved her lips, and the midnight blue eyes were heated now, not stricken.

“You don't play fair,” I said as she started to unwind the bandage from my leg.

“Neither do you,” she pointed out. Then her smile turned wicked as she eased the bloodstained length of fabric away from my trousers. “Now take your pants off.”

BRYONY

In the end, we gathered at the Brother House. Ash and I had met Simon and Lily en route to my office after I'd finished patching him up. Simon's eyes had the icy glint they got when he was truly angry, an expression that made him look far more like Guy despite the difference in their coloring.

Apparently Lily had told him whatever part of the story about her and Ash and Ignatius that was hers to tell. Judging by his face, it wasn't a good story.

Beside him, Lily was quiet as usual. And, as usual, impossible to read. She'd been raised by a Blood lord even more dangerous than Ignatius Grey and had learned impeccable control at a very young age. But she stayed close to Simon, as though hoping to calm him before they got wherever they were going.

Which was to find me, apparently. Before Simon could speak, Ash held up his hand and said, “I've already told Bryony that I'm going over this once and once only. So let's find Guy and it will go a lot faster for everybody.”

Simon nodded and he and Lily fell into step with us. I passed the time—and tried to distract Simon—by asking him about his patients and getting him to brief Ash about the status of the men he'd come to St. Giles with. Ash had demanded a report after I finished with him and I'd had one of the healers fill him in, but I figured hearing it again from Simon couldn't hurt. It might mean that Ash would actually rest after we had met with Guy.

I'd felt the fatigue dogging him when I healed him, but there wasn't a lot I could do to ease it. I'd had just enough strength to heal his wounds. . . . I couldn't lend him more to push back his weariness. The easy stride with which he hurried us toward the Templar stronghold reassured me that his leg was no longer paining him though it would need a little more time to heal fully.

Ash wasn't the only one that needed rest. Right now I could lie down on the marble tiles and sleep for days. Sleep and not have to worry about what was coming and not deal with unending streams of pain and injury and death. I'd been a healer for a long time, but sometimes it was a heavy burden.

Now was one of those times. Because I couldn't save all of them. There would be people out there dead who never even had a chance of being healed.

All because of Ignatius Grey and his stupid ambition. Why hadn't Ash killed him? Wouldn't that have been an end to it?

My hands curled at my sides and I made myself relax. If Ash could have killed Ignatius he would have. To think otherwise was a measure of how much I needed to sleep. If I wasn't so tired, I would be able to regain my balance, be able to see reason.

If I wasn't so tired, I wouldn't be wishing so hard that I could still be in Ash's arms. My heart wouldn't ache quite so hard at the thought of spending another night like the last one when I hadn't been able to shut down the thought that Ash was out there in danger, that he could be killed.

Could leave me again.

Time and again that thought had flared, and on its heels came terror and panic that I'd had to fight down and lock away, only to have it return. I'd done my best to ignore it, but it had been there through every moment of that endless night. And it was there still because I knew, even if he didn't, that there were more than one set of enemies arrayed against him.

Wanting him dead.

Wanting to take what was mine from me.

What was mine even if I couldn't speak the words. Because telling him the truth would only make it harder.

Only make the loss worse when it came.

•   •   •

Guy met us at the door of the Brother House. He had Fen and Holly with him. And Saskia. I hadn't expected her. Her face was half-grimed with smoke and sweat, as were her hands, and there were char marks on the sleeves of the thick woolen shirt she wore with leather pants and boots. Perhaps she'd been helping the Templar armorers keep up with demand.

She looked as tired as the rest of us as she stood, half leaning against Fen, and smiled a greeting to Lily and Simon. Holly, standing on the other side of Fen, looked tired too. Tired and irritable. She had helped at the hospital half the night and I'd sent her with a group of healers to treat some of the less seriously injured Templars here at the Brother House a few hours before dawn when the crowds at the hospital had threatened to become unmanageable. I knew she would rather have done something more active, spent time prowling the streets like Lily, but unlike Lily, she wasn't a wraith and she had promised Guy that she wouldn't risk herself that way.

She had agreed, but she didn't like it, and it showed.

“Looks like everybody is here,” Ash said.

I gave him credit for not asking whether Saskia and Holly needed to be here. Maybe he had the measure of the DuCaine stubbornness already. If Saskia was here, then she intended to stay and she'd been through enough of the journey with us that none of the others would tell her to leave, as much as her brothers might wish to. Holly was just as stubborn as her future sister-in-law and she could, on top of that, probably just find a way to listen in on us using one of her charms, if not outright break into the room, if we tried to exclude her.

“Yes. We can use one of the meeting rooms,” Guy said.

“Will Father Cho be joining us?” I asked.

“He is tending to other matters just now. I'll give him my report after this.”

He led us up to a room on the second floor, which was more secluded than the other meeting rooms I was familiar with, and waited for us to take our seats. When everyone was settled I felt Ash throw a ward around the room and a second later, felt the cool green of Simon's power working to reinforce what he had done. No one would be listening in on what we spoke of here.

That done, Ash began to talk, telling the tale of his night's adventures. Of Ignatius Grey and of how Lily had intervened. Simon's scowl returned at that part, but he kept silent. Fen's expression was carefully blank like Lily's, and Saskia and Holly both looked worried.

Guy, on the other hand, looked almost happy with the news that Ignatius had shown himself.

As Ash came to the end of his story, Guy began to ask questions, going over the details from a number of different angles. When he eventually subsided, Ash looked relieved. He stretched his arms out against the table, rolling his shoulders.

“Any other questions?” he asked.

“Not for you,” I said. Though I would have questions for him soon enough. Like why he hadn't told me he'd been bound by iron for a time when I healed him. That explained some of the bone-deep exhaustion I'd sensed in him. I could have done something about it during my healing, if I'd known it was caused by iron. But that was a conversation for later. When I could yell. “But I'd like to hear from Lily what happened after you left.”

Ash nodded. “Come to that, so would I.” He turned to where Lily sat next to Simon. “Care to tell us that part?”

She smoothed her hand over her head, as though checking that all her braids were in place. They were, though I didn't like to see them there. In the days after Lucius had first died . . . before Holly and Guy had met, she had worn her long hair loose. Seeing it tied back again only reminded me each time I saw it that she was a warrior.

A warrior on the hunt.

“There isn't much to tell. I kept Ignatius occupied for long enough for Captain Pellar to get away and then I shadowed and got away myself.”

“You could have killed him,” Guy said. “Why didn't you?”

“Because of what he told me,” Lily said. “He said that I'd never know if I killed him.”

“Know what?” Holly asked.

“Know what happened to the Fae women he's been taking,” I said, feeling cold fury in my stomach. I'd been focused on Asharic's part of the story as he told it and hadn't fully thought through the implications of what Ignatius had said to Lily.

“Women?” Holly said. “Like Violet?” Her eyes went dark as she spoke the name. Regina had been taken because she'd been with Violet, doing a dress fitting for her, when the Beasts came for her. She'd died because of Violet.

“Yes,” Lily said, eyes on Holly, face sad for an instant. “Like Violet. I've spent some time searching but not as much as I would like.” She looked at me and I remembered the conversation I'd had back down beneath St. Giles with Adeline. And the ones I had with Lily since. About what Ignatius might do with a Fae woman.

“What does Ignatius Grey want with Fae women?” Ash said, looking confused.

I looked at Lily. She nodded, the movement almost imperceptible.

BRYONY

“It's
possible that Ignatius is trying to breed himself a wraith,” I said.

Ash's eyes went wide. Everybody else looked as one toward Lily and Simon.

“Lily, what do you think?” Holly asked.

“Ignatius saw what I did for Lucius,” Lily said. Her voice had the edge of ice in it that it always held when she was determined not to give anything away. “A wraith is a valuable weapon.” She turned her gaze on me. “It's why the Fae dislike us so much.”

Fen frowned. “But it would be years before a wraith would be able to do for Lucius what you did.”

“You don't have to be that old to carry a gun,” Lily said. “Lucius waited until I was older, yes, but Ignatius may not have his patience. And who knows? Maybe Lucius had already begun this experiment.”

“No,” Guy said. “No, he wouldn't have been so eager to get you back if he had a replacement waiting in the wings. Fen's right; a wraith would have to be a long-term plan.”

“I don't care about that,” Lily said. “I care about the women that he may be using. And I care about any child that may or may not exist. A child like me. Who will not become like me—be reared by a monster as I was—if I have anything to say about it.” Her tone was flat and final. All of us had learned what that tone meant.

“So we defeat Ignatius and we rescue these women,” Ash said. “Simple.”

“Not so simple. Ignatius told me that he had contingency plans in place. If anything happens to him, then the women will be dead as soon as the news reaches the warrens. If he's telling the truth and they are still alive, of course. He's not going to let us win that easily. And that's assuming we win.”

“Of course we're going to win,” Guy said.

Lily shook her head. “How many died last night?”

Guy's fist clenched. “We lost about thirty soldiers. Almost that again in civilian casualties.”

“And that was just a skirmish,” Lily said. “Nowhere near their true forces and they kill sixty of us in a night. Even with Asharic's forces, we are outnumbered.” Her gaze came to me again. “We need the Fae.”

“We don't have them,” Ash said bluntly. “Unless they have a change of heart, we're in this on our own.”

“Which is why I'm going to search the warrens and find these women and then we will get them out.”

“How, exactly?” Guy objected. “You want us to launch an assault on Blood territory to rescue just a few? We have a city to save.”

“Don't give me one of your speeches about the greater good, Guy DuCaine,” Lily said calmly. “I am going to find these women. Then, if you won't help me, I'll find a way to free them myself.”

“Of course he'll help,” Simon said. He put a hand on Lily's arm. “Don't do anything foolish.”

She scowled at him a moment, then subsided.

I let out a breath. Good. No one could stop Lily searching for the Fae women—which she'd been doing on and off for months anyway, so I wasn't sure why she thought she could find them now—but we didn't need arguments amongst ourselves as to the right path to take.

Ash leaned back in his chair. “So now you know. Ignatius has emerged from the shadows. I think we can expect attacks every night from now on. We need to prepare.” He stretched again and then yawned enormously. “But first I need some sleep. Why don't we meet again in a few hours? We could all use some rest.”

He pushed back his chair, but before he could stand, Fen held up a hand. “I think we're ignoring another important part of this story,” he said.

Damn, I had hoped that we weren't going to discuss that part. That I might have a few more days. But I couldn't bring myself to stop Fen from speaking.

“What part?” Guy asked, yawning himself. He covered his mouth with his hand, the Templar cross bloodred in the morning light.

“The part where Ignatius wanted to take Ash specifically,” Fen said.

“He thinks he can weaken Ash's forces if he takes out their commander,” Guy said. “A reasonable thought. Though wrongheaded of him.” He nodded at Ash. “Your men are well trained and Charles seems capable enough. No offense, Asharic. I don't wish ill for you.”

“A reasonable thought if the problem Ash represents to Ignatius and those who support him is as leader of his army,” Fen said. “But that isn't the only thing he is.”

Cold sweat broke out on my back.
Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.

I saw a horror equal to my own break out on Ash's face.

“Fen—” he started.

“The Fae don't need a change of heart,” Fen said, his tone filled with the vibrations that told me he was speaking of something he had foreseen. “They need a king. Someone strong enough to command them to rejoin the war. Someone powerful. Powerful enough to call the queen's sword to his hand perhaps.”

All eyes turned to Ash.

His eyes had turned to storm clouds, denial and anger warring on his face. “I'm no king,” he said. Then he stood and strode from the room.

ASH

I didn't get very far from the meeting room before I heard footsteps following me. Bryony. I knew without looking, could feel the turmoil in the depths of her power. But I couldn't make myself stop and wait for her. I wasn't ready to discuss the monumentally stupid thing that Fen had just said. Me as king?

No.

A thousand times no.

Locked up in Summerdale, with nothing but Fae politics to fill my days?

A fate worse than death.

A life sentence, in fact. A lifetime far longer than any human could imagine.

I hurried my pace, walking so fast I was almost running. But the sight of me fleeing the halls of the Brother House would hardly inspire confidence in either the Templars or my men, so I schooled myself to keep to a walk.

Still, I was almost gasping when I passed through the massive entrance doors—ignoring the Templar who offered me a salute as he held the door open for me with his other hand—and stepped into the sunlight. Gasping with rage and with a foreboding that I wasn't going to be able to get out of this so easily.

I walked a few more feet, almost blind in the bright daylight. But then my foreboding was confirmed as my vision cleared and I recognized the faces of the men on the tall horses gathered in a neat line outside the main gate.

Fae faces.

Fae here in the City. Fae waiting to see me.

My father and mother amongst them.

I stopped dead where I stood, the urge to run flaring again. I could do it. Head for the stables and get on Aric's back and ride until we had left this bloody City in the dust.

Only that would mean leaving Bryony as well.

Again.

Shal e'tan mei
. Fucking the fucking Veil six ways to hell. And the queen. Why had she had to die? And why couldn't my fucking fellow Fae find themselves a ruler and leave me the hell out of their games?

My frozen state gave Bryony the chance to catch up with me. She moved beyond me a step or two, watching the Fae as I was. Then she turned back to me.

“I think your father wants to speak with you,” she said. “And he's not the only one.”

“Bryony, if you have any love for me, then go over there and send them away.”

Her eyes went wide and the chain at her neck sparked a dazzle of light like fireworks. “I'm sorry,” she said. “But you have to do this.”

Then she stepped back and there was nothing to do but walk forward to greet my parents.

•   •   •

Which led me back to another of the cursed Templar meeting rooms. This being my parents, one of my uncles, and a delegation of other Fae who, according to them, bore me no ill will, I could hardly leave them standing in the street. Besides which, if they were here to discuss what I thought they were going to discuss, it wasn't something I wanted every Templar and his dog—not to mention my own men—hearing.

Bryony came with us, shooting me a look that told me that if I tried to turn her away, then she might finally fulfill one of her threats to turn me into a frog—or worse. Of course, if she could, half my problems would be solved, but knowing her, she'd then organize for me to be the first frog king of the Fae and I wasn't going to give Salvia the satisfaction of being able to stomp on me and kill me that way.

My father cleared his throat as if he was expecting me to say something. I stayed silent.

“Lord sa'Uriel,” Bryony said eventually. “What brings you to the City?”

She might as well have been discussing the weather or making arrangements for some inane social ritual like tea drinking, her voice was so carefully polite and carefree.

“We came to discuss what happened at court yesterday,” Father said. “You both left too quickly for us to talk to you.”

“We're fighting a war here,” I said pointedly. “I won't apologize for not taking the time for social niceties.”

My father pinned me with a look that made me feel suddenly about fifteen years old. “I approve of your retreat yesterday. It was a wise move. Salvia did not behave well after you left.”

“Please tell me one of you had to stab her,” I said.

“Not quite. But she threw quite a tantrum.”

“A tantrum for which there was quite a noticeable lack of enthusiasm,” added my uncle, Erik, with a certain degree of satisfaction.

“Yes,” my father said. “Salvia played her hand and lost, it seemed.”

“She'll bounce back,” I said. “I'm not going to hold my breath waiting for her to stop hating me.”

My mother waved a hand at me, the light making her two Family rings glitter like a miniature rainbow. The colors of her original Family—sa'Liniel—were blue and green and purple and they sparkled prettily on her left hand. They also neatly rounded out the orange, brown, and red sa'Uriel colors of the even larger ring on the fourth finger of her right.

“Salvia wasn't the only one who played her hand,” she said gravely. “You called the queen's sword and it came to you. Asharic, that means something.”

“It means I'm an idiot,” I said through gritted teeth. “Nothing more.”

My father sighed. “No, my son. It means more than that. Do you think you're the first one to try such a thing since the Veil fell? There have been quite a few contests of power. And the Veiled World hasn't answered to a single request.”

“What makes you think that it answered mine?” I said.

“The land holds the court's power,” my mother said. “You know that. The queen put that sword there and charged the land to hold it safe. Which it has done for centuries. Until yesterday. When it gave it to you.”

My stomach roiled. “No. Don't even think about it.”

“Asharic,” my father said. He gestured at the others who accompanied him. “We didn't come here to see how you were doing. We came here to offer you the crown.”

“No,” I repeated. “I don't want it.”

“It doesn't matter if you want it,” Bryony said. Her voice sounded odd. Distant. “It matters that it wants you.”

She might as well have picked up a dagger and stabbed me with it. “I said
no
.”

Another dazzle of light sparked from Bryony's necklace as her power flared, making the air shimmer. “Lord sa'Uriel. Ladies. Gentlemen. May I speak to Asharic alone?”

My father nodded, then stood. He bowed to Bryony, shot an unreadable look in my direction, and then led the party out of the room.

Which left Bryony and me staring at each other across the table. It felt more like a wall the size and height of the Templar battlements.

“Have you lost your mind?” I asked. “I can't be king.”

“You already are. The land answered you. It answered you the second you stepped over the threshold when we went to see the court. This is inevitable.”

Not to me it wasn't. “Let me make this clear. I do not want to be king.”

“And I don't want to watch this City die,” Bryony said. “Which is exactly what will happen without the Fae to help us. Don't you see? Fen was right. If you're king, you can make them come back. You can save us.”