Iron and Magic

Elara took short shallow breaths.

A moment passed, long and slow like cold molasses.

Another…

The creature dipped its head and bit Lisa’s neck.

“Deidre, when I say run, I want you to jump off the bed, run outside, and scream as loud as you can. Scream and keep running. Don’t stop. Do you understand?”

The child nodded.

Elara shifted her weight onto her toes.

The beast tore another shred of flesh from Lisa’s throat, exposing more of the broken vertebrae. She’d make it pay. Yes, she would.

Deidre perched at the very edge of the bed.

Now. “Run!”

Deidre jumped off the bed and dashed to the door. Elara lunged forward and grabbed the shotgun.

A piercing, desperate scream tore through the castle. “Hugh! Hugh!”

The beast sprang at her. There was no time to aim, so she drove the butt of the gun into its face. The creature reeled. She pumped the shotgun and squeezed the trigger. The shotgun barked. Pellets tore into the beast’s face, knocking it back.

Elara sprinted to the hallway, slammed the door shut, and threw herself against it, back to the wood. She had to buy time.

The beast let out a screech behind her. It lashed her senses, whipping her into a frenzy.

“Hugh!” The terror-soaked shriek sounded further away. Run, Deidre. Run.

The beast slammed into the door from the other side. The impact shook it like the blow of a giant hammer. Elara’s feet slid. She dug her heels in.

The door shuddered again, nearly throwing her. It would break through on its third try.

She leaped aside and pumped the shotgun.

The door flew open, the creature tumbling out all the way to the other wall of the hallway. Elara jerked the shotgun up and fired.

Boom!

The blast tore through the beast. Blood spatter landed on her face. The monster surged upright, its face a mess of bloody tissues, its left eye leaking onto its cheek.

Pump. Boom!

The creature jerked back, then lunged at her.

Pump. Nothing.

Elara flipped the shotgun, brandishing it like a club.

Hugh came around the corner, running at full speed and plowed into the beast, knocking it off balance. As the monster came back up, Hugh grabbed it, twisting it around to face her, muscling it, his face savage, and caught its throat in the bend of his elbow. His forearm pressed against the beast’s neck. It kicked, jerking and flailing, claws ripping the air only a foot from her face as it struggled to break free, and for a second, she didn’t know if Hugh could hold it.

Hugh caught the creature’s head with his left hand. The powerful muscles of his arms flexed, crushing. Bones crunched. The beast’s head lolled. It went limp.

Relief flooded her. She lowered the shotgun.

Hugh dropped the beast like a piece of trash and turned to her.

“Hurt?”

“No.”

“Others?”

She made her mouth move. “I only saw one.”

Deidre ran to them and wrapped herself around her, trembling uncontrollably.

“It’s okay,” Elara cooed. “It’s okay. Safe now. It will all be okay.”

“What if it comes back?” the little girl whispered.

“If it comes back, Hugh will kill it. That’s what he does. He protects us. It will be okay.”

Hugh gave her an odd look, but she was too tired to care. Exhaustion mugged her like a wet blanket, smothering her thoughts. The danger had passed. Hugh’s sentries had failed, and he would take it personally, which meant not even a fly would make it into the castle for the rest of the night. And, knowing Hugh, probably for the rest of all nights.

Lisa was dead. Lovely, kind Lisa.

She was so tired.

Iron Dogs, hounds, and a couple of her people charged up the stairs, pounding into the hallway. The dogs tore at the corpse.

Hugh grinned at her, showing even white teeth. “You were right. There were fifteen.”

She didn’t have any witty comebacks. She put her arm around Deidre and walked toward the stairway, heading for her room.

The door to Elara’s bedroom stood wide open. Serana stood on the side, guarding. She snapped to attention as he passed.

Hugh stalked through the doorway. Elara lay on the bed, fully clothed, her eyes closed. Her breathing was even.

Asleep.

An assault rifle lay on the night table, within her reach. She’d washed the blood from her face, but small red drops peppered her dress. The child curled next to her, asleep.

He moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t stir.

The adrenaline still coursed through him. He came to tell her that the beast had come over the wall and scaled the tower. The grate on the window had been loose and it ripped it out. His people checked the creature’s hands and found no sign of injury. The silver in the metal of the grate would’ve burned most magical beings, but not that one.

The creature was fast and sly. It must’ve watched the patrols and waited for the best time. There was less than thirty seconds between the walking sentries. It timed the assault perfectly and by the time the dogs picked up the scent, it was already scurrying up the tower.

The creature could’ve caught them in the forest. It was fast enough. But it must’ve weighed the odds and realized that it was outmatched. That likely meant it wasn’t telepathically controlled by its master. A telepathic bond required a blank mind, and the moment the warrior controlling it died, the beast would’ve taken off into the woods, to freedom. That’s why loose bloodsuckers slaughtered everything in sight. Without navigators to direct them, they acted on pure instinct.

This creature followed them, waited for the right moment, then got inside hoping to kill Deidre. Still, it wasn’t too bright, otherwise Lisa’s presence wouldn’t have distracted it. It likely killed Lisa to get to the child, but once it started chewing on her, it didn’t want to stop. He’d seen similar behavior in feral dogs.

He came to tell Elara that this would never happen again. She didn’t wait for his assurances. She trusted him enough to fall asleep.

If it comes back, Hugh will kill it. That’s what he does. He protects us.

The world had sat askew, until he’d come to the castle. All the cornerstones of his life had fallen: Roland gone, his position as Warlord eliminated, his immortality over. But now he had a place, here in the castle, and a purpose.

If it comes back, Hugh will kill it. That’s what he does. He protects us. It will be okay.

When he’d heard the child scream, he had imagined the worst. If someone had asked him this morning what was the worst that could happen, he would’ve had to think about it. Now he knew. The worst would be Elara dying.

The fights, the compromises, the maneuvering, pissing her off until she turned purple in the face and forgot to keep a hold on her magic, so it leaked from her eyes, all of it took up so much of his time. It was fun. If she was no longer here, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Would he leave? Would he stay?

This new life, it was just his. Hugh didn’t owe it to anyone. He was building it himself, brick by brick, one shovel of cement at a time, the same way he had built that damn moat. He was building his own castle, and for better or worse, the harpy wormed her way into his world and became its tower.

When he’d thought she might be dead, fear had scraped him raw. For a moment he felt the piercing icy pain of what must’ve been panic.

But she’d survived.

Hugh reached out carefully and rested his hand on her chest, just under her breasts, to reassure himself that he wasn’t imagining it. She felt warm. Her chest rose and fell with her breath.

She’d survived.

All was good. Tomorrow it would return to normal. The crisis had passed.

He raised his hand and walked out the door.

Elara’s eyes snapped open. She saw Hugh’s wide back disappear through the doorway.

He had reached out and touched her. It was such a light touch, hesitant, almost tender, as if he’d been reassuring himself she was alright.

Hugh d’Ambray cared if she lived or died.

He’d given himself away. It was a fatal mistake. There was so much she could do with it. Now she just had to decide how to use it.

What did she want from Hugh d’Ambray? Now there was a question.