Kiss of the Goblin Prince (34 page)

He leaned heavily against the bed, struggling to stay upright as the tension that had been building became a full-fledged headache. Too much magic. Too much energy expended. He needed to lie down, but he couldn’t stop there. He had to get himself home…and then face Meryn. What was he going to do with his goblin cousin?

Brigit touched his hair and Dai lifted his head.

She looked at him, her eyes clear. Then she tugged off the mask. “I was dreaming of you. I knew you’d come back.”

“You brought me back. Thank you.” The floor beneath his knees was slick. He glanced down. His blood stained the floor. He was losing too much blood. He went to heal the wound but the gray threads of the Shadowlands embedded in his leg with the arrow made that impossible. He’d have to cut out the arrow before he could he heal the injury. He had to leave before he passed out. He tried to stand.

She sat up. “Don’t go.”

“I have to.” He couldn’t stay any longer.

“Mommy needs you. Daddy says you have to stay so he can go.”

He couldn’t let Amanda find him there. He wasn’t ready to face her, he didn’t know what to tell her or how to explain how he’d healed Brigit. Yet he knew he’d have to. The same way he’d have to tell Roan about Meryn. Just not tonight.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Dai drew up all the energy he could manage and prayed he got it right. With a whoosh, he fell back into his apartment. For a moment he did nothing but lay on the wood floor, breathing hard, a cold sweat on his skin and the pounding of his heart in his ears. He’d poured too much magic into healing Brigit. He closed his eyes and let the dizziness pass.

After a moment he realized something was wrong. Meryn didn’t try to attack him and there was cold wind blowing through the apartment. He cracked open his eyes. Had he come to the right place?

He saw his empty bookshelves. Yes. It was his house. He went to sit up, but a polished black boot stepped onto his chest and forced him back down.

Mr. Vexion leaned over. “Welcome back to the Fixed Realm, Mr. King. You have been busy.”

Dai couldn’t shift beneath the weight and he couldn’t grab onto any magic. He was exhausted and enjoying his last few breaths—he sighed and let his bruised and tired muscles relax—they may as well be peaceful.

Vexion pulled off his gloves and placed them in the mouth of his fur stole. The stole blinked at Dai and snarled.

“Manipulation to acquire property.” Vexion raised one finger. “Theft.” Two fingers. “Time distortion and inter-realm transportation.” Four fingers. “Healing of an unaware minor.” Five fingers. “Have I left anything off?”

“Breathing?”

Vexion’s lips twitched but didn’t make it into a smile. “You didn’t listen very closely, did you?”

“I listened. I ignored.”

“Come on, sorcerer, you’ve got to do better than thisss—bleeding out on the floor of your trashed apartment.” He put more pressure on Dai’s chest. For a little man he was heavy.

Dai grunted. “I’ve made amends for killing my sister. I’ve rescued my cousin from the Shadowlands and lost the only woman I’ve ever loved. So if you’re going to kill me, just do it so I can be reborn and start again in my next life.”

Vexion laughed like sheets of sandpaper being rubbed together. “You won’t be reborn with your knowledge; you’re human.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. I’ve been watching you. Waiting to see what you’d do without your preciousss booksss. To see how you’d apply the knowledge you’d learned. I needed to see beyond your mind and into your heart.” He lifted his boot off Dai’s chest. “Men like you don’t come along very often. It’s even rarer that they will risk their own life for another.” Vexion pulled a book out of his pocket. “Rules for magic in the Fixed Realm.” He dropped it on the floor next to Dai’s head. “Learn them. You’ll need them.”

Dai forced himself to sit up. This had all been a test to see if he was worthy of getting his books back? He should’ve known. No lore was gained without a trial of some kind. “What’s the catch?”

“Your transgressionsss will disappear.” Vexion patted the head of his stole and the tail twitched, wrapping itself around his other arm.

“What do you want from me?”

“Your servicesss occasionally.”

“I’m not for sale.”

Vexion squatted down. His coat raised its head and growled around the gloves. “You’re on retainer. Birch might need your services. Artifacts are discovered that would be better left hidden. People put what magic they can use to ill purpose. Occasionally there are bigger threats. We’d much prefer you on our side.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Of course. I cannot force you to do anything. However…I believe time distortion is still a mandatory memory wipe.”

“You’re blackmailing me?”

“Blackmail is an ugly word. I prefer coercion and a good outcome for everyone.”

A good outcome for everyone? Dai took the opportunity to ask for what he’d wanted all along. “I want full access to my library.”

“I’ll go one better. You’ll have access to the full Birch library. It makes Alexandria look like a private collection.”

In exchange for his services they were giving him the opportunity to become more powerful. Access to their library was an offer he couldn’t turn down. But he didn’t want Vexion knowing that.

“And if I refuse?”

“I have time to wait.” Vexion looked at the spreading blood. “Do you?”

Dai laughed. Whether he lived or died, Birch still solved their problem. But if he lived, he still had a chance to solve the one thing he cared about. Putting things right with Amanda.

“You must have other mages in your service. Why me?”

“We have no one human on staff. We haven’t for a long time. Maybe it is time to fix that. The world is changing again.”

Dai nodded. He’d seen many shifts over the years. The old ways were coming back. People were trying to be more in tune with the world and to look beyond themselves…or some were. At the moment there was a balance. Which way would the scales tip? Not even he could predict that. “Okay.”

Vexion smiled, but the toothless grin didn’t fool Dai. Vexion could still bite. “Got some clear skin?”

Dai tapped his left bicep. It was that or his upper thigh and he didn’t want Vexion’s hands that far down his body. His nails looked a little less human and a little too sharp.

Vexion placed his hand over Dai’s arm. Dai turned his head away; he didn’t want to watch. He gritted his teeth expecting the pain that usually accompanied a mark. Beneath Vexion’s hand his skin bubbled as if it was burning and blistering, then as it cooled and resettled it tingled. He looked back when Vexion pulled his hand away.

“You won’t have a problem finding or gaining access to Birch again.” Vexion stood up, pulled on his gloves, and walked toward the open apartment door. Then he turned. “You should find your cousin before I have to.”

“Wait.” Dai couldn’t stop himself from asking when he should be letting Vexion walk away. “What are you?”

Vexion glanced over his shoulder, and his stole turned as well. “When you discover that we’ll talk again.” He shuddered. “Fix that door once you fix your leg. It’s freezing in here.”

Dai glanced at what had been the glass door leading to the balcony. The curtains around his door billowed in the breeze, catching on the jagged teeth of glass. Meryn had used a chair and broken the glass instead of unlocking the door. In that moment Dai realized the world was not the same one Meryn knew—Meryn was two millennia behind.

Why had Vexion let Meryn go? Surely he could’ve stopped him? Dai turned back but Vexion was gone, leaving only a lingering warmth on his bicep. Birch was once again refusing to intervene—unless Meryn started breaking their rules.

For a moment, Dai just sat, trying to gather up the energy to fix his leg and then get up and go after his cousin. He looked at his leg with the sight. The Shadowlands hadn’t taken hold, yet. But the arrow had to come out. That meant either cutting it out or ripping it out. He didn’t have the stomach to cut himself.

With his teeth pressed together hard he gripped the arrow shaft. On his next exhale he yanked it free of the muscle. He bit back the yell and kept it locked in his throat; he was used to biting back on pain and giving nothing away, then he tossed the broken arrow. It skittered across the floor, taking the Shadowlands strings with it.

He gathered the severed threads of his leg and started drawing them together, not with the same finesse as he’d used on Brigit. He didn’t have the energy to make a nice scar. He just needed the blood to stop. And it did; the flow between his fingers slowed and stopped but was replaced with a chill that had come straight from the Shadowlands. Shock from the magic use and blood loss, combined with the new ventilation courtesy of Meryn.

Dai got up, cautiously testing his leg as he stepped over the chair and broken glass, then peered over the balcony and into the night. His fingers were tight on the railing as the world dropped beneath him. Had Meryn scaled the wall? Or fallen to his death? He checked the fragile thread that stretched between himself and Meryn. It hadn’t snapped. Meryn was alive—but there were many places for a goblin to hide in the city, and Meryn was a goblin in a man’s body.

What had he brought into the world? He couldn’t have done it any other way. And if he had, Birch wouldn’t have let him live.

He tried to use the fragile bond to go to Meryn. He couldn’t leave him out there alone. But aside from increasing the pain in his temples, and turning his vision black at the edges, nothing happened. He was out of magic. Too tired and too wounded to do anything to help his cousin. He hung his head and closed his eyes.

Exhaustion clawed through his muscles and scattered his thoughts; only his grip on the railing kept him upright. He’d worked enough magic and spilled enough blood for one night. He wasn’t even sure what night it was. Was it the night after the museum or had more time passed? He felt himself sway. He needed to sleep and to recover before he went after Meryn. If he went like this, he would lose the fight and it was one he couldn’t afford to lose. He would have to search for Meryn in the morning…and tell Roan what had happened.

Roan would be less than impressed that he’d gone alone, and less than thrilled Meryn was now wandering the streets. Dai walked stiffly back inside, using the wall for support, feeling the bruises that had yet to form.

His blood was streaked across the floor, but he didn’t have the energy to clean it up, magically or manually. So he left it. He paused at the book Vexion had dropped on the floor. His arm throbbed from the new mark, but Birch’s mysteries could wait. He’d never wanted to sleep so badly in his whole life. The sofa had never looked so comfortable. Then he looked at his hands, his arms and legs. He was covered in blood and the dust of the Shadowlands. He couldn’t sleep coated in the stuff nightmares were made off. He had to wash.

As he walked to the shower he stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a gray and scarlet mess. Tomorrow he would clean up and fix what he could. He ran the shower and checked his arm. A birch tree in full leaf was burned onto his skin. As the muscle flexed, the tree swayed as if in the breeze; its roots seemed to tap into his skin. If he looked closer, he would see them weaving into him. A mark that couldn’t be cut out, like most of the other ones, it went soul deep.

He ran his hand over the knitting wound on his leg. It was healing, faster than it should. Maybe that was why he was so tired; healing took more energy than he was used to expending. He’d have to look in the library and find out. The water swept away all traces of the Shadowlands, and when he was unable to stand up anymore, even leaning against the tiles, Dai got out and dried off. His never-used bed was where he fell.

And he slept.

Chapter 21

Amanda bit her lip as she waited for the doctor to finish checking Brigit over. She couldn’t push aside her dream of falling. Of trying to grab a rope that was too slippery for her to hold, but never hitting the ground. It had jerked her awake and left her with a sense of loss she couldn’t explain. She waited for the doctor to give her the bad news—that Brigit was getting worse. That next time the attack could be fatal.

Brigit glanced at her with a smile on her face like she was hiding a secret. She forced her lips to move in response but didn’t feel any joy.

“Well. I think you can take her home, Ms. Coulter.” The doctor wrote a note on Brigit’s chart. He shrugged and kept writing.

“She’s okay?”

“Perfectly healthy even though it says here she is a chronic asthmatic.” He looked at Amanda like she was an over-protective parent who was making her daughter’s condition out to be much worse than it was.

“She
is
a chronic asthmatic and has been for years.”

“Well, I can’t hear anything. She has the lungs of an average seven-year-old.”

Brigit beamed as if she were a cat that had just caught and swallowed a mouse. “Can we go now, Mom?”

Amanda looked at the doctor. “Any further tests?” Usually they wanted a follow-up, or a review of her medication.

“No.” The doctor hung up the chart. “Have a good day.”

She blinked at the doctor not quite understanding. Had the doctor just given Brigit the all clear? “Do you mean she doesn’t have asthma?”