chapter eighteen

The next day dawned as what I was beginning to think of as a typical Avalon summer day. Meaning it was damp and cloudy with a very un-summer-like chill in the air. I slept in, enjoying the novelty of sleeping in a relatively comfortable bed. The futon wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, and the sheets were soft against my skin.

I showered and got dressed, going for another pair of cargo pants, this time with a T-shirt and a hoodie. I was glad to be going shopping again today, because I was going to need some warmer clothes. I’d known it wouldn’t be as warm here as in the States, but the damp added an extra bite to the chill that I hadn’t been prepared for.

I shoved what I had left of Dad’s money—which was most of it—into one of the cargo pockets, then headed downstairs to wait for Kimber. I could tell last night that Dad wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me hanging out with “the enemy,” but he hadn’t tried to forbid it. I gave him major kudos for that.

I’d expected to find my dad downstairs, but instead found Finn, sitting on the living room sofa. He was dressed much like he’d been yesterday, though his jacket was draped over the arm of the sofa, and his dark glasses were tucked into his shirt pocket. I’d been bummed about having him hanging over my shoulder yesterday, but right now I didn’t mind the idea quite as much.

“Where’s my dad?” I asked as I headed to the kitchen to see if I could scrounge up some coffee.

“At work,” Finn answered. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me again.”

“I’ll find a way to live with it,” I said over my shoulder, and I think Finn might have laughed, though it was so short and quiet I almost missed it.

My hopes for a good cup of coffee were dashed when I saw Dad didn’t even have a coffeepot. There was plenty of tea, but even if I’d known how to make loose tea, I’d have skipped it. I did eventually find a jar of instant coffee, which I finally decided was better than nothing. I wasn’t sure that was true after I tasted it, but I forced it down for medicinal purposes.

Kimber showed up promptly at ten in a disgustingly cheerful mood. I’d never been that big a shopper myself—it was hard to get too enthused about shopping when you were counting every penny, hoping you’d be able to pay the electric bill. But I had to admit, with Kimber, it was fun. She had an awesome eye, and practically everything she suggested I try on looked fabulous on me, if I do say so myself.

Being a practical sort, I stayed focused on buying the basics—sweaters, long-sleeved shirts, and heavier pants, in various blends of cotton and wool. But Kimber was constantly egging me on to buy more extravagant stuff—dresses, skirts, frilly blouses. Like I said, she had a great eye, but though I tried everything on, I just couldn’t see spending money on things I’d never get to wear. My “boring” selections annoyed her to no end.

“You have to buy something fun,” she pouted at me when we left yet another shop without any silk, velvet, or lace in my bag. Finn was already carrying so many bags for me he looked like a very hot porter, but I still had more than two hundred euros left. And I had to admit, the idea of splurging on something completely impractical did have some appeal.

Kimber must have sensed my weakness. “I know!” she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “My birthday’s next month, and I’ll be having a great party. We should start hunting for the perfect dress for you.”

I gaped at her. “You expect me to wear a dress for a birthday party?”

Kimber stuck her nose in the air, reminding me briefly of her ice-princess act. “It’s my party, my rules. And I happen to like dresses.”

I remembered the froufrou feathered monstrosity in her closet, and hoped that wasn’t the kind of dress she had in mind. I protested feebly as she dragged me into yet another boutique.

If it had been just me, I’d have taken one look at the price tags and turned right back around. But Kimber on a mission was a force to be reckoned with, and I soon found myself in the dressing room with an armful of beautiful, expensive, impractical dresses.

With Kimber’s help, I narrowed it down to two choices, but I still wasn’t sure I was willing to fork over that kind of money for a party dress.

“I like the blue one best,” Kimber said. “It really brings out the color of your eyes.”

I made a noncommittal sound. The blue was, of course, the more expensive of the two choices. Obviously, Kimber hadn’t had to pinch a penny in her life.

She made an exasperated little huffing sound. “I’m going to go find something for myself while you think about it. But don’t think you’re leaving here empty-handed.” She shook her finger at me, and I rolled my eyes.

She’d been gone for maybe a minute when I heard a thud from the inside of the shop. I wasn’t overly alarmed. Not until the cameo warmed, and I felt the weird, prickly feeling. There was no way that was good news.

I quickly pulled on my street clothes—if I was going to face baddies, I’d rather not do it wearing nothing but panties—and had just shoved my arms through the sleeves of my hoodie when the dressing room door crashed open.

I let out a startled shriek and jumped back as Finn came flying through the door, crashing into the full-length mirror against the wall. The glass shattered on impact, and Finn let out a grunt of pain.

Two men followed Finn in, strolling as if there were nothing unusual going on. One of them stopped to close the dressing room door behind him, while the other advanced on Finn.

They were both tall and muscular, built very much like Finn. They also had the MIB look going, down to the dark glasses they didn’t even need outside on this gloomy day. I made a wild guess that they were Knights. And that I was in big, big trouble.

I tried a scream, because, hey, that seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time, but it didn’t seem to bother the Knights. Probably the only people who could hear me were Kimber and the shopkeeper, but the Knights would have had to go through them before getting back to the dressing room. I hoped they were okay.

Finn was bleeding from a nasty cut across his forehead, and broken mirror shards had to be stabbing him everywhere. The Knights were between me and the exit, but I made a dash for it anyway, hoping their bulk would make them slow. Unfortunately, it didn’t. One of them grabbed me and hauled me against his chest, my feet dangling. He held me to him with one arm around my chest, just below my breasts, one arm pressed hard against my throat. I tried my best to kick him, but it’s hard to get a whole lot of force kicking backward, so it didn’t seem to bother him much.

“Fight, and the girl dies,” the other Knight said to Finn, who had managed to get to his knees.

Finn’s gaze darted to me, and the Knight who held me squeezed tighter so I couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t hurt her,” he said quietly. “I won’t fight.”

The pressure on my throat eased, and I sucked in a big gasp of air. The second Knight advanced on Finn, then pulled back his leg and delivered a brutal kick to Finn’s stomach.

“No!” I screamed. Finn had been a pain in the rear, but I had no desire to see him get hurt.

The Knight holding me laughed as his partner hit Finn again. I made another attempt to wrest myself out of his grip, but I was about as likely to move him as I was to move a semi. I couldn’t even look away from what was happening to Finn, not with the Knight’s arm pressed so firmly against my throat. I could have closed my eyes, but that wouldn’t have made things any better. I’d still have heard the impact of fists and feet on Finn’s defenseless body, would have heard the grunts of pain he couldn’t help making.

The Knight hit Finn again and again, sometimes so hard I heard bones breaking. I sobbed and struggled and begged Finn to protect himself, but he wouldn’t do it. Eventually, he couldn’t.

Finn lay face down on the floor, and if it weren’t for the painful sound of him gasping for air, I’d have thought he was dead. The Knight who’d beat him smiled and pulled a long, thin knife from a sheath hidden in his boot.

“No!” I wailed, although I knew it would do no good. “Why are you doing this?”

The Knight knelt at Finn’s side, and even behind the dark glasses, I could feel his eyes locked on mine. His smile was cold and cruel, and I saw nothing even remotely human in his face.

“Leave Avalon,” he said to me. “Leave, and never come back. Else, it will be you next time.”

I screamed as he raised his hand, then plunged the knife into Finn’s back. Finn cried out and tried to move. I realized with horror that the knife had pinned him to the floor.

The Knight who was holding me finally let go, shoving me to the floor. Their feet crunched on broken glass as they left the dressing room.

Horrified, I made my way to Finn’s side, heedless of the glass. The knife hilt protruded from just above his right shoulder blade, and blood poured from the wound. He was still breathing, though, the air sawing in and out of his chest. I put my shaking hand on him, not sure what to do for him. I’d nursed my mom through a couple of drunken accidents before, but nothing remotely like this. Should I pull the knife out, or would that make things worse?

With a groan of pain, Finn turned his head toward me.

“Oh, God!” I cried. “Don’t move!”

His face was … ruined. That’s the only way I could describe it. I don’t know how many bones were broken, but it was a lot. But Knights are apparently made of some really strong stuff.

“I’ll live,” he managed to gasp at me. “Get help.”

I didn’t know if I believed his claim, but his words were enough to get me moving. Now covered in blood and mirror shards myself, I stumbled out into the shop.

The shopkeeper was lying on the floor behind the cash register. Kimber, sporting what was soon to be a massive bruise on the side of her face, was helping the other woman sit up. I’d have been relieved to see they were all right if my fear for Finn had let me think of anything else.

“The phone!” I screamed at the shopkeeper, hysteria threatening to take over. “Where’s the phone? I need to call an ambulance.”

She pointed at the phone, which was practically right in front of my face. I picked it up with shaking hands, but my palms were full of glass, so I dropped it. The shopkeeper had recovered enough to stand, and she reached out her hand.

“Let me,” she said. And since I didn’t know what number to dial, and couldn’t give an address, and probably couldn’t dial correctly anyway with my injured hands, I did.