Guns weren’t traditionally fey, either, but bullets could outrun most magic, so Jack too had to be practical.
He patted his bag. The goblins had guns; now he and Io did too. It kept things more even. Murder wasn’t the most elegant solution to their problem, but it seemed the only effective one.
If he pulled it off.
The ammunition in the clips he’d packed was staggered—cold iron and then hunting rounds, designed to blow big messy holes in the body. Not knowing what he and Io would be up against, and some beasties not responding well to certain types of ammo, it seemed prudent to be packing both. Gargoyles, goblins, trolls—who knew what the night might bring?
It also felt damn good to know that Cisco had his back covered and would take out Lutin’s factory while he and Io ruined the underground and its main bad guy. Demolishing the factory was secondary to eradicating the crops, but it would help foil the goblins’ plan. Jack would take the help either way, especially since nothing else was being offered in the way of official assistance.
He shifted his duffle bag into his left fist as he neared the iron gates of Goblin Town. He wanted his right hand free in case he needed to do a quick draw with his new pistol. He was ambidextrous, but slightly faster with his right hand. It was just a precaution,
but one he took because the stakes they were gambling were astronomically high, and he had every intention of getting back to Io alive.
The thought of her attempting to destroy Horroban’s empire on her own made his blood frost. Her fate, if she was caught, didn’t bear thinking of. Horroban would probably turn her into a humanskin lampshade and a new belt. And the goblin warlord wouldn’t be so kind as to stop her heart before he started working either.
The troll on duty that afternoon hung back deep in the shadows of the toll booth, and didn’t question Jack as he paid his admission fee and stuck his hand into the basin to draw an entry spell.
Jack fished about carefully until he found what he wanted: an enlarging charm. With this new magic—modified, of course—and the hair spray in his duffle, Io would be able to make one hell of a firebomb. She’d be able to go through the hive with a flamethrower and take out everything standing more than an inch above the ground. The spell would work on his canister of salt, too. Io could multiply the little grains until there was enough to sterilize every field down there.
At least it would sterilize every field they could find. Jack didn’t kid himself that he knew where they all were. He and Io would keep looking as long as they could, but the hive was vast and something would escape them. That was Murphy’s Law as applied to goblins.
Of course, he didn’t like sending Io down alone to deal with the crop, but she’d proven herself resourceful and there was something even more important and dangerous that he had to do that night. It wasn’t something that Io would like, and not what Cisco could ever officially acknowledge was good policy, but everyone understood that Horroban had to die. The goblin warlord had too many powerful friends in too many powerful places. Jack and Io might wipe out this crop of goblin fruit, but there would be others again and soon, because no one in authority would ever put Horroban away. As long as the goblin warlord lived, humankind would be in peril.
That was what Jack had really meant when he said he was choosing the
“final solution.”
It wasn’t just the hive that was going to be taken out.
The acknowledgment of what needed doing was unspoken, but it was a cause that Cisco had been ready to risk his badge and life for. He had a wife and two kids to think about after all, so he’d been willing to help Jack in whatever way he could.
And it didn’t hurt Jack’s cause that Cisco was a bit of a pyro and just plain liked blowing things up.
Jack had the frightening capacity to stand in utter stillness when he was either angered or assessing. He paused inside the door, inhaling deeply, taking in the scent of Io’s fear and perhaps seeing some of Zayn’s magic clinging to the edge of her aura, and then froze. An eternity later he said “You told Zayn about Chloe, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Io admitted, looking him in the eye, though it was difficult because his expression was remote. The new coldness after their morning together made her heart twist. “It was the lesser of two evils. Either I gave him a reason not to go to Xanthe or else I had to blank his mind.”
“And telling him everything seemed the lesser evil?”
“I didn’t tell him
everything
. But, yes.” Io swallowed. “Jack, things are worse than we thought.
Worse than we even imagined. We will probably
need
Zayn.”
“I don’t doubt that things are worse than we imagined,” Jack said calmly, putting down his duffle. His expression was annoyed. “This has been a pain from the start, but we haven’t had nearly enough trouble.”
Apparently their brush with gargoyles didn’t count. Jack’s nonchalance about that helped Io stay calm.
“Zayn found out who Horroban is.”
Jack looked up from his bag, his expression momentarily arrested. “How did Zayn manage this?” His voice was cool.
“He followed Hille’s gargoyle. It ate my ticks.” Io pulled her hair back from her face and exhaled. “Look, I know you don’t trust Zayn—”
“With cause.”
“But you don’t understand something about this situation.”
“Quite probably. So why don’t you stop fussing with the small stuff and explain what I don’t get?” Jack asked politely, trying hard not to let his exasperation show but failing.
“Zayn is in love with Chloe,” Io blurted out. She regretted her words almost as soon as she uttered them.
“What?” Jack looked revolted.
“You heard me. They were lovers once upon a time, but Xanthe intervened. She asked him not to
see Chloe until she was older and through with school.”
“And this helps us how?” Jack was obviously unimpressed with her logic in regard to Zayn’s motivations, or perhaps didn’t believe the truth of them. “Assuming you’re right and he does actually love her, you don’t think his first loyalty is to Chloe’s sister, his boss?”
“No, I don’t. Jack, listen to me. I was there when his brother died. Zayn hates the goblins—and he knows exactly what happens with goblin-fruit junkies. He might not have listened to our theories about Lutin’s perfume being an addictive agent as long as Xanthe wasn’t interested, but he damn sure listened to the fact that Chloe is being turned into a junkie—and that Xanthe isn’t doing anything to stop Horroban because she would rather have a drug-addicted sister than a dead one.”
“I see.” Jack’s voice was still neutral, but he was listening.
“He also knows that after next Tuesday, it won’t matter anymore. None of it will. Horroban will probably cut his losses and kill Chloe.” Io tried to fight down her returning agitation, but it was difficult with Jack’s annoyance and magic crawling all over her. He had obviously picked up some strong spell on his way back into town and been tweaking it.
“I see. So you haven’t got to the crux of the matter yet, have you? What’s the punch line?”
“What?” Io blinked.
“Who the hell is Horroban, and why will he kill Chloe after Tuesday. Nothing is going on in the next week except—” Jack stopped cold. “Are you saying that Horroban is one of the candidates for the senate?”
Io shook her head.
“Governor?”
“No.”
“Not the presidency. It can’t be.”
“Jack, Horroban is
William Hamilton!
” Io pulled back her hair again. “William Hamilton. The polls say he’ll take it in a landslide.”
Jack muttered something really bad in troll.
“I hadn’t heard that one before,” Io said, trying for a note of lightness. “I’ll remember for the next time I find myself in an appropriate situation. So, any constructive thoughts about what we should do with this new problem? Zayn wants to help, but I haven’t told him anything definite.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah, I have thoughts. We do exactly what we always planned to do—and we do it very, very well. And you let me talk to Zayn from here on out. I don’t trust him not to sacrifice you if you get between him and Chloe.”
“Fine. But you will have to talk to him or he’ll go in after Chloe alone. Soon.”
“Moronic hothead,” Jack muttered. “Nothing like a fey in love with a human to make bad things even more difficult. There is no stupider animal in the annals of history than a love-struck faerie.”
“Maybe so, but—”
“I’ll talk to him before he screws us up. Don’t worry about it. Actually, I suppose the news could have been worse.”
Io stared at Jack, unhappy with what his words implied but not arguing. Fey-human romances rarely worked out well in the long term. And Zayn
was
talking wildly. He might very well do something stupid that would endanger everyone. The fact that Io sympathized wouldn’t interest Jack. It would probably make him further question her judgment.
Jack lifted his duffle onto the table and unzipped the central compartment. His movements were easy and his magic had folded back in on itself.
“Come here, little fey.” Jack’s eyes had lost their cold cast and he smiled as he looked over at her. Relieved that he was through being annoyed, Io stepped closer.
“What’s in there?”
“Oh the usual—salt, hair spray, handguns. That isn’t what I wanted to show you, though.”
“No?”
“No. I brought you a present.” Jack slid off his long coat and threw it down on the table. He began unbuttoning his cuffs.
“Yeah?” Io looked up at him, wondering if he was flirting with her. With Jack, it was sometimes hard to tell. “And what might that be? Candy? Flowers?”
“Come here and kiss me and you’ll find out.”
“How about a hint?” Io suggested, running a finger
down Jack’s shirt. She stopped at his belt buckle. “I can feel the spell sparking all over the place. It isn’t standard issue. You’ve been playing with it.”
“I’ve been supercharging it,” Jack admitted. “But I’ll let you do the final customizing.”
“Uh-huh. And what kind of spell is it?”
“An enlarging spell.”
“An
enlarging spell!
Now that sounds interesting—not that you need to be any larger.” She let her fingers drift lower. Her heart turned over and her nerves trilled, but this time it wasn’t with alarm. “Or maybe you want
me
to be a little more
gifted.
”
Jack’s thin lips twisted in a smile. “We’ll play that way later if you really want to,” he promised. “Right now, I want to show you how to make a flamethrower.”
She gave him a coy look. “Is that what you call it? Well, everyone should have a pet name for it, I guess.”
“Pay attention, Io. I mean it.” He tried for properly stern, but somehow fell short.
Io looked up. “I’m all ears.”
“You’re all hands.” Jack stepped back from her. “I’m not joking, honey. With this spell and a can of hair spray, you have something better than napalm. But you’ll need to practice so you don’t hurt yourself.”
“If it’s that dangerous, why don’t you handle it?” Io asked. “This is more your speed anyway. I’m kind of a slug-’em-and-run sort of girl.”
“I
can’t
handle it.” Jack paused, then added, “I won’t be there.”
“What? Why not?” All urge to tease fell away. Io stared at him, trying to read his face and failing to, as she so often did. “Where exactly will you be?”
Jack met her gaze squarely and said precisely what she had been fearing to hear ever since Zayn had revealed Horroban’s identity.
“I’m going after Horroban.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not alone.”
“Someone’s got to take him out, Io. We both know it,” Jack explained gently. “But we have to get those fields, too, or it’s a Pyrrhic victory even if Horroban dies.”
“No,” she repeated. But she knew Jack was right. Someone had to get rid of Horroban—permanently. And before next Tuesday.
And after tomorrow night they would have burned their bridges; Horroban would have warning after the attack on the fruit fields that someone was onto his plans, and would disappear behind a wall of Secret Service men until it was too late to stop him. Once in the White House, killing him would be next to impossible—supposing he actually allowed any humans the opportunity to live long enough to attempt assassination.
He would also loose his dogs upon her and Jack in retaliation. Between the goblins and the resources of the U.S. government, there wasn’t anywhere on
earth that she and Jack would be safe from his retribution.
Horroban had to die, or they would. They
all
would.
It was Io’s turn to use bad troll. She put real feeling into it, hoping it would keep tears from pooling in her eyes. Macho goblin-fighters did
not
cry.
“Sorry, honey.” It didn’t change anything, but Jack seemed to regret the pain he was causing her, to regret that she would have to destroy the crops on her own. And if she cried he might drink her tears, swallow her sorrow. She couldn’t do that to him. He was already carrying a terrible burden.
Io stopped swearing. It took a little longer to make her body halt its trembling and for her heart to calm, but she stayed at it until the last of the symptoms left her.
“I’m all right now,” she said. It was a half-lie, but she knew she would have to make it the truth before they went back underground that night. This was their last chance to scout the hive and find fruit fields that needed destroying. It was also their last chance to find Horroban’s bolt-hole.
He would be somewhere in the city, Io was certain. All Hallows’ Eve was a powerful time magically, and the goblin would want to be close to the source of his dark power.
“So, give me my gift and show me how to make a flamethrower.” Io rose up on her toes and deliberately pressed her mouth against Jack’s.
He hesitated for a moment and then began transferring the spell. His hands found her waist and held her up while the powerfully charged spell spilled into her, making her muscles tick and spasm.
“Goddess!”
Perhaps it was just her mood, but it seemed to Io that besides the spell she had also being filled with cold purpose and a sort of grim determination. The feelings were foreign and yet familiar. Jack was doing his best to protect her by giving her some of his relentless fortitude.
She didn’t know what she could give him in return.
“Hope,” he whispered as the last of the spell left him. He stood looking into her eyes, which she knew were blazing with cold blue fire. “You’ve already given me it. Hope.”
“Let’s pray it was a fair trade.”
“It was.” Jack’s lips crooked. “I never do anything to my own disadvantage.”
“Really? I do. All the time,” she answered, thinking about how much emotion she had invested in Jack and how it might all be taken away.
“You’ll learn.”
Io nodded sadly. She was very afraid that he was right.