Jessica Andersen - Spellfire

“Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My head,” Rabbit said grimly, spacing the words between his teeth. In his peripheral vision, he saw Myrinne use her wand to telekinetically ease the Jeep back onto its tires and roll it up to the road.

“You want her, even love her, but you don’t trust her all the way when it comes to the magic,” Red-Boar said, digging in. “She’s always been attracted to it, always wanted it, even when getting it conflicted with the writs and your king’s orders. But she’s a hot piece of tail, and damn good at leading you around by your dick, so you followed wherever she led. At least until the end.”

“Fuck you.”

The Jeep’s engine fired up, grit spurted from beneath the tires, and Myrinne wheeled off, headed back in the direction of Skywatch and catching air on the first big bump. She went too fast when she was upset, he knew. And also when she was pissed. When she was happy. Pretty much any other time, too. She was a high-octane, life-in-the-fast-lane woman, and there was nothing wrong with that.

It didn’t make her a spy or the enemy; it just made her who she was.

Red-Boar stepped up beside him to watch the Jeep speed away. Changing tactics, he said quietly, like they were man-to-man and he gave a shit, “You should leave her alone. You’ve done enough damage.”

And the hell of it was, he was right about that one. Maybe she’d healed up stronger than ever, but that didn’t make up for what he’d done.

So he watched her go, and kept watching until the dust cloud disappeared. Then, exhaling, he turned back to Red-Boar, aware that the shield spell was gone and the others had ’ported away, leaving the two of them alone. “What do you want from me?”

“The same thing I’ve always wanted: for you to get your head out of your ass and behave.”

“According to whose rules? Yours?”

Red-Boar made a disgusted noise. “Just follow Dez’s orders, and when we figure out what the crossover is supposed to do, like I said, just fucking do it.”

Rabbit wanted to argue, but couldn’t really. The messenger didn’t matter so much as the message. He glanced back along the road, where the kicked-up dust had turned to a faint haze. “Phee showed me a vision of you and her living together in the rain forest.”

“Lies,” Red-Boar said flatly. “All of it.”

“Fine.” Rabbit rounded on him. “Then you tell me. Who was my mother? How did you end up with her? And why the fuck didn’t you leave me in the highlands if you hated me so much?”

Red-Boar spat in the dust near his feet. “Leave it alone, boy. The past doesn’t matter worth shit. This is one of the few times that what has happened before won’t happen again.”

“But—”

“Enough!” Red-Boar’s sudden bellow reverberated off the nearby ruin and sent a sand-colored lizard scuttling for cover. Lowering his voice to a growl, he said, “Get this through your thick fucking skull, boy. You don’t get to make demands here. If you want to get your ass back on the team, you’ll do as you’re fucking told. More, you’ll promise it on your soul. Remember, rescuing you was just the first part of my job. The second is to get you to swear an oath . . . not to the king—that’s not worth shit with you and we both know it. No, I’ve got a spell that’ll bind you to the eldest member of the boar bloodline . . . which means I’ll have your ass. I’ll control you.” He leaned in. “I’ll fucking own you.”

Oh, hell, no. A foul taste soured the back of Rabbit’s throat. “What if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll end it myself.” The old man’s expression didn’t change, like he was talking about supersizing his number three combo, not murdering his own son. “If we can’t use you, we’re sure as shit not going to let the Banol Kax have you.”

“Jesus.” For all that he’d remembered his old man as a colossal dick, the reality—if you could call a guy back from the dead “reality”—was so much worse.

“Think about it,” Red-Boar advised. “But don’t take too fucking long.” Glancing back at the ruin, he raised his voice and called, “I’m ready to leave.”

Moments later, Anna stepped out and headed in their direction. Strike must’ve taken the others back, leaving her to transport the stragglers. She didn’t ask how it had gone. Instead, she held out her hands. “Link up, and let’s get out of here.”

“He’s staying,” Red-Boar said flatly.

“Dez said not to let him out of my sight.”

“And I’m saying you’re going to.” The old man’s mouth thinned to a grim line. “The spell won’t work if his heart isn’t in it, and he needs to make his own choice. Besides, I found him once, I can find him again.” His eyes went to Rabbit. “And the second time won’t be a rescue mission. Understand?”

“Loud and clear.” Asshole.

Anna’s vivid blue eyes gained wary shadows. “Rabbit . . .” She trailed off, shook her head. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore. I don’t know how to make things better, or even if I should try.”

In a way, that stung worse than all of Red-Boar’s threats and insults put together. Among the magi, Anna was Switzerland. Years as a researcher and university prof had given her the patience of . . . well, something really freaking patient. So for her not to know how to deal with him . . . yeah. That pretty much summed it up.

Before, he had been the Master of Disaster, always starting with more or less the right intentions but winding up blowing shit up anyway. Now, though, the others didn’t even trust his intentions. Hell, he wasn’t sure he trusted them himself.

He took a big step back, away from Anna and Red-Boar. “He’s right. I need to think.” Not about whether he was committed to the Nightkeepers’ cause, but whether he could fight effectively—or at all—with his old man up his ass.

“First you need to get some rest and heal up.” Her nose wrinkled. “And take a shower. Not in that order.”

Now she was being more herself, reminding him of a bossy big sister. But while that brought a wistful tug, it didn’t change anything. “Go on without me. I’ll hike in later.” Probably.

She hesitated a long moment, seeming unperturbed when Red-Boar started muttering under his breath. Finally, though, she nodded. “Okay, I guess. But Rabbit?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t disappoint yourself.”

Her quiet command stuck with him long after she and his old man disappeared in a hand clap of inrushing air. More, really, than any of what Red-Boar had told him in between the four-letter words, because he’d spent most of his life trying to live down to his father’s opinion. Now, though, it was just him, the badlands, and a whole lot of empty scenery stretching on as far as he could see. Hell, the fact that he could see more than a few feet in front of him without coming up against a rock wall should be enough. Breathing fresh air should be enough. Having a choice—any choice—should be enough.

It was, too. He was grateful for his freedom, grateful that he’d gotten a chance to kill Phee, grateful that he’d gotten to see Myr, no matter how much it had hurt to watch her walk away. And he wanted to think that if the gods were asking him to swear himself to any of the others—or, shit, all of them—he would’ve sucked it up and done it. Red-Boar, though, would be all over him, telling him when to eat, when to sleep, when to shit . . . and what to do with the powers of crossover magic.

Fuck me, Rabbit thought when that one put a quiver of “so there you have it” in his gut. Because when he came down to it, he didn’t trust his father any more than he trusted himself. Less, in fact. Which under the circumstances left him up shit’s creek and paddling with his damn hands. The thought had him scowling down at the baked ground near his feet.