Authors: Marina Finlayson
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Sword & Sorcery
“Come on, we’d better get out of here.”
“Maybe we should find you some clothes first.”
Good point. We strolled along the bridge hand in hand, my feet leaving damp footprints on the road surface. At the northern end we found a terrified group huddled behind a truck. Must be the fireworks crew.
“Who
are
you?” one of them asked as I approached. He was as tall as Ben, but about twice as wide.
“I’m Kate,” I said cheerfully, turning my will on him, “and you’d love to give me your T-shirt.”
He agreed he would, and I was soon covered to the knees in a Black Sabbath T-shirt the size of a small tent. We left them gawking after us and slipped past the police barriers and down the steps to Milson’s Point. There were a lot of very excited people there, shouting about dragons and fireworks and waving at the bridge, but none of them paid us much attention. I guess we didn’t look too threatening—a barefoot mum and her tired little boy—and I was more than happy to be overlooked. I’d had enough excitement already to last a year, and the year was barely three hours old.
I sank down on the lawn and put an arm around Lachie, too tired to do anything more challenging than sit and wiggle my toes in the cool grass. Sooner or later Garth would turn up. Until then I could sit here enjoying the view of the twinkling city lights, with my boy tucked safe and warm against me. Heaven.
He rested his curly brown head on my shoulder in a long contented silence. I thought he’d gone to sleep, but then a question of burning importance obviously occurred to him.
He sat up. “Mum, have you still got all my Lego?”
***
More than an hour passed before Garth showed, hulking across the grass with his usual surly frown. His face brightened when he saw us among the drunks and the all-night party crowd, Lachie curled up asleep with his head pillowed in my lap.
“You did it.” He squatted on his heels beside me. The most genuine smile I’d ever seen on his face appeared as one big hand reached out to rest lightly on Lachie’s hair.
“Where’s Luce?”
The smile faded. “Stuck with Alicia.”
I sighed. “I hoped someone would take Alicia out.”
Too much to ask, I guess. It would have been the icing on the cake to have Luce free.
“Me too. Luce managed to look the other way when I left, but that was the most she could do. I figured you’d need some help.”
“Thanks.”
“At least Valeria went down.” Garth’s eyes lit with pleasure at the memory. If he’d had a tail right then it would have been waving jauntily in the air. “How’d you manage it? I thought you were a goner for sure.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He had the grace to look a little abashed. I described the fight as we sat side by side, looking out across the dark water. A police launch still circled out there in the proscribed zone under the bridge. I’d watched them fish Valeria’s naked body out some time ago, small and rather sad-looking in its broken human form, and seen the flashing lights of the ambulance when they’d brought it back to shore. Another New Year’s Eve emergency, though a touch more exotic than the usual drunken antics. How the Emergency Services must hate New Year’s Eve.
“I’ve brought the car round,” said Garth. “We should probably go before Alicia works up the courage to come looking.”
I nodded, though I hated to disturb my boy. He looked so peaceful.
“Let me,” said Garth. He scooped him up in unexpectedly gentle arms. Lachie murmured something then settled again, his head nestled comfortably against the werewolf’s massive pecs. Jason used to carry him in from the car like that, after a night out. Which reminded me …
“What happened to Jason?”
“Got away,” Garth grunted in disgust.
Shame. I should have stomped him when I had the chance, but I’d had other things on my mind. Another time, perhaps. Nothing could dent my good mood tonight, not even Jason’s survival. We picked our way past sleeping bodies, couples cuddled up on picnic rugs, and the odd still-raucous group.
“There was a bit of confusion after you took off. Still, it was worth it to see Alicia’s face when she realised you were still in the game.”
I wouldn’t have minded seeing that myself. “A little upset, was she?”
“You could say that.”
He led the way out of the park and up the street. I floated along at his elbow in an almost Zen-like state of happiness, snippets of memories and emotions from both my lives bubbling below the tranquil surface.
The inside of my head was a very weird place right now. Leandra’s memories were as clear as my own, though I could no longer sense her lurking as a separate presence. Even some of my own memories looked different seen through the prism of Leandra’s knowledge. I could find no division any more. I was us, and we were me—not quite Kate, and not exactly Leandra either. A new whole, bigger somehow than the sum of its parts.
Better? Who knew? Right now I didn’t care. I reached out for at least the hundredth time to stroke my sleeping son’s head. Happier? Absolutely.
We finally reached the car, and I sank into the back seat with a sigh of relief. It had been a long night.
“Where to?” Garth asked.
I shrugged. What did it matter? My world was right here.
“The ambos took Ben to Royal North Shore,” he added, a little too casually.
Ben! He’d taken that slash Jason meant for me. How could I have forgotten? I sat up straighter, some of my euphoria slipping away.
“How bad is he?”
“He’ll live.” He laid Lachie gently in the back seat next to me and buckled him in. “Might have some impressive scars though.”
I stroked Lachie’s curls back from his forehead. He shifted in his sleep but didn’t wake.
I had trouble remembering why I’d been so angry with Ben. I could hardly blame him for wanting to protect his nieces. Would I have done any differently if someone had threatened Lachie’s life?
“His arm was pretty bad. Some gashes on the chest and shoulder too, but the arm was the worst.”
“What are we waiting for, then?”
In the rear vision mirror I caught a glimpse of his smile.
The trip to Royal North Shore didn’t take long, and we were soon striding into the emergency department. Garth carried Lachie, still sleeping, since I refused to be parted from him.
The place was jumping with people. Falls and brawls, all the fun of New Year’s Eve, though I guess it was well and truly New Year’s Day now. The sun would be up in a couple of hours.
At reception a harried-looking nurse cast a professional eye over Lachie’s still form.
“What happened?” she asked wearily.
“Oh!—nothing. He’s fine. We’re here about Ben Stevens. The ambulance brought him in a little while ago.”
“You next of kin?”
I was about to say no, but I took in the crowded waiting room, and the exhaustion on the nurse’s face, and thought better of it.
“I’m his sister.”
“You’d better come in. You two can wait here.”
“I have to bring my son,” I said. “He’ll be upset if he wakes and I’m not there.” Not exactly true, but she didn’t have to know that.
She looked about to make an issue of it, and I groped for my will, limp and exhausted as it was, wondering if I could even compel a kid to eat a chocolate at this point. But she must have decided she was too tired to bother, and led the way down a corridor depressingly similar to the last emergency room corridor I’d visited.
Only now, that remembered grief had no power to hurt me any more, for I could reach out and touch my son, sleeping in Garth’s protective arms. The werewolf smiled at me as I stroked Lachie’s head, as if he could tell what I was thinking.
There was some confusion finding Ben. It turned out he’d already left Emergency for the operating theatre, and an orderly had to be found to guide us through the echoing halls to the recovery room lounge.
We collapsed into the hard plastic chairs to wait. Garth looked exhausted. If he was anything like me he was probably aching all over, but he made no complaint. It was five o’clock in the morning and I’d flipped through every ancient magazine in the place before a nurse came out and told us Ben had recovered sufficiently to have a visitor. I picked up Lachie, who was awake and asking sleepily when we were going to have breakfast.
“No children,” said the nurse.
“He’ll be fine.” I pinned her with a serious glare. I don’t know if it was a compulsion or I just scared her, but she led the way through the swinging double doors.
Beeping machines lurked along the walls of the recovery room. Each bay had a hospital bed parked in it, with the occupant wired up to the machines, and nurses hurried between the beds. Someone got the all-clear to be released to the wards as we entered, and we stood aside to let the orderly wheel the bed past.
Ben lay in the far corner, propped up on pillows, his face nearly as pale as the bandages that swathed his whole right arm and stretched across his bare chest and shoulder. His free arm was hooked up to an IV drip, but he held it out to me all the same.
“You look like shit,” I said, leaning in to kiss his cheek, now rough with stubble. His familiar woodsy scent was long gone, drowned out by blood and sweat and horrible antiseptic hospital smells. But he still felt like home. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit. Better now, though.” His eyes rested on Lachie, suspiciously bright. “He’s safe. You’re both safe. Thank God.”
“You missed all the excitement,” I said, my own eyes welling up. It had been a rollercoaster of a day.
“I heard.” He shifted uncomfortably, wincing as he moved his arm. “Someone said there were dragons fighting over the harbour. Or did I dream that part?”
“It’s true.” I looked round to see if anyone could hear us.
“She was really scary-looking,” Lachie said, his dark eyes huge.
“She was?” Ben gave me an uncertain look. “Umm—how did you—?”
“Let’s talk about it later.”
“Okay.” The drugs in his system made him more biddable than usual. Also a little spacey. He gave me a beatific smile. “I bet she made a beautiful dragon.”
“What happened to your arm, Uncle Ben?”
“Aaah …” Daddy tried to kill Mummy and Uncle Ben got in the way? Stumped for an answer, Ben looked at me.
“We might save that for later too, when Uncle Ben’s not so tired.”
“Okay.” He laid his head back on my shoulder.
Ben caught my hand in his. “It’s good to see you. Both of you.” His eyes searched my face. “I’m so sorry.”
I squeezed his hand. “I know. I’m sorry too.” For the things I’d called him, for the way I’d reacted. For the separate hells we’d both gone through in the past seven months.
“Are we … okay?”
There was a strange lightness in my heart, something I hadn’t felt in so long I’d forgotten what it was like. I had my son back, I had a guy prepared to throw himself in front of a killing blow to save me—a guy who, even as beat up as he was, still looked pretty damn good with his shirt off.
The strange feeling was happiness. I reckoned I could get used to it.
“Oh, I think we’re a little better than okay.” I set Lachie gently on his feet, then leaned in and kissed Ben thoroughly, deep and long. Everyone said dragons had strong sexual appetites. As soon as those bandages came off, Mr Stevens would be finding out just how strong.
He grinned up at me. “Okaaay!”
THE END
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed
Twiceborn
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Kate’s story continues in
The Twiceborn Queen
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Twiceborn Endgame
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to my trusty team of beta readers: Mal, Peter, Geoff and Chris. Your help and encouragement was invaluable. Thanks also to my editor, Eliza Dee, and to my family for putting up with being ignored for long stretches of time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marina Finlayson is a reformed wedding organist who now writes fantasy. She is married and shares her Sydney home with three kids, a large collection of dragon statues and one very stupid dog with a death wish.
Twiceborn
, Book 1 of The Proving trilogy, is her first novel.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR