Ilona Andrews - Bayou Moon

“Sweet little E,” he said. “I’ve wondered about that for years. She never got a cold. All of us would be down with flu or some other crud, but she would be up and chipper.”

Cerise studied her arm as if it were a foreign object. “I don’t remember it. The Box. I don’t remember it at all.”

“He probably sedated you,” Ignata said.

“It would have to be a bloody strong sedation,” Murid said, “to dull that kind of pain.”

Ignata frowned. “Do you remember the remedy?”

Her mother grimaced. “Oh, please. It’s the redwort tea. During the last few weeks, he practically drowned her in it every chance he got. That’s probably the only reason she is sane now. That’s what the remedy does—it keeps you from going mad.”

Richard’s clear voice filled the room. “The question is what we are going to do with the journal now.”

WILLIAM tensed. His every instinct screamed in alarm.

Faces turned to Richard.

“We have the journal. It is too late for Genevieve, but not too late for Gustave. Cerise told me that he’s being held in Kasis.”

Richard leaned forward. “The place is a fortress and the Earl of Kasis has a lot of guards at his disposal. Not only that, but the place itself sits on the border between Adrianglia and Louisiana in the Weird. It touches the Edge, but that’s about it. If we attack it, we’ll have people from both countries on our trail. But we must get Gustave back. We must at least try.”

“Blackmail,” Kaldar said. “We trade Gustave for the journal. Spider will do anything to keep us from turning it over to the Adrianglians.”

And it all went to shit. William bared his teeth.

“Spider is too dangerous,” Erian said.

“Screw Spider. That journal is monstrous!” Petunia’s voice cut him off. “It’s the product of an abnormal mind. Brilliant but abnormal. We must destroy it.”

Kaldar gaped at her. “As long as we have the journal, we can get Gustave back.”

She glared back. “William! How big was the creature you saw?”

They all looked at him. The hair on the back of his neck rose under pressure. “Large. At least six hundred pounds.”

Shock slapped the Mars’ faces. Even Cerise paused, frozen in an instant.

Aunt Pete whirled to face Grandmother Az. “That’s about right, isn’t it?”

Grandmother nodded.

Pete’s stare pinned Kaldar like a dagger. “So, ask yourself, nephew, do you really want to hand that monster-making blueprint to the world in exchange for one life?”

“It’s not our problem,” Erian said. “Why are all of you ignoring me? It’s not our problem!”

Mikita shook his head. “It is our problem. We are the Mars. It was made by our in-law on the land that’s now in our family. We are responsible.”

Aunt Pete stomped her foot. “There is a bigger responsibility here. Human responsibility. Vernard knew enough to hide this thing—mad as he was, he locked it away and hid it from humanity. It’s not right to let this knowledge out!”

Kaldar threw his arms out. “Who the hell cares if the Weird’s nobles kill each other? What did they ever do for us?”

“What he says does have some merit.” Richard drummed his fingers on the desk.

Aunt Pete studied him as if he were an insect. “Who are you people?”

William looked at the Mars and knew Aunt Pete would lose. They wanted Gustave back. They were family and family looked out for their own first. He looked at Cerise’s face, lit from within by hope. He remembered her head against his chest, how it felt to hold her, the smell of her hair, the hot, sweet taste of her mouth …

“We can arrange an exchange someplace public …” Kaldar said.

William rose from his chair. “No.”

Cerise’s eyes found him.

Kaldar frowned. “You said something, blueblood?”

William ignored him. “Adrianglia and Louisiana are grinding against each other. They can’t afford to let the other side have any advantage. Once Spider learns that you’ve got the journal, he will try to wipe you out. Once Adrianglia learns that you have it, they will do the same.”

He found Cerise’s gaze. “Listen to me. Everyone in this room will die. Everyone. They will kill you, they will murder your kids, they will burn your house, they will shoot your dogs. They will obliterate you. It would be as if you never existed.”

“You seem very sure of that.” Richard’s quiet voice echoed through the silent room.

William almost snarled. Because they will order me to do it.

“Adrianglia doesn’t know about the journal,” Erian said.

“They will very shortly. Burn it. Burn the fucking journal and never speak of it again.”

Cerise was looking at him. There was something in her eyes, suspicion, hurt, anger, he couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it reached deep down into his chest and jerked at his heart.

If he told her the whole truth now, if he told her about the Mirror, he would lose her. But if he could make her understand, she would live.

“How will Adrianglia know about the journal, William?” she asked, her voice very soft.

The wild howled and screamed inside him. No! Shut up. Shut the hell up. Don’t lose the woman!

“Last night I used a drone bug to send the complete report to Zeke Wallace,” William told her.

The room shrank to the two of them. He was ice calm. There was no going back.

“You’re not a bounty hunter,” she said.

“No.”

“Is Adrianglia paying you to kill Spider?” she asked.

“No. They don’t mind if I kill him, but I’m not here for him. I’m here for the Box and the journal. That’s what the Mirror wants, and they will order me to slaughter the lot of you to get it.”

“You lied to me.”

“I meant the rest of it,” he snarled. “Wolves mate for life and you’re my mate.”

“Wolf?” Erian jumped off his chair. “William Wolf? The one the freaks are so scared of? And you brought William Wolf into the family? Are you out of your mind? He’s a fucking changeling.”

William bared his teeth.

Erian caught himself but it was too late. Cerise was staring at him, half-risen from her chair, her face bloodless.

“Erian,” she said.

Erian stumbled backward, looking lost.

“It was you.” Cerise’s voice brimmed with pain. “You sold my father and mother to the Hand.”

“My own brother.” Richard’s face contorted and for a moment he couldn’t speak. The desk creaked under the pressure of his white-knuckled hands. “Why?”

“Because somebody had to,” Erian snarled. His hands shook. “Because neither you nor that fucking waste of space that’s our other brother would do anything. I saw our father die. I remember everything: the shot, the blood, the look in his eyes, everything! You know what Gustave told me at the funeral? He told me, ‘You will get your revenge.’ I waited for revenge. Years I waited, but he didn’t give a fuck about it, oh no, he was happy squatting in this house, our father’s house, letting his spoiled brat daughter run the place. He would’ve grown fat and happy, while our father rotted in the ground. Every year I came to him, and every year he told me, ‘It’s not time, Erian. We can’t afford a feud right now.’ It would never be time, so yes, I fucking did it. I gave the Sheeriles an edge. I gift-wrapped Gustave for them, because if he stayed here, the feud would never end. Now the Sheeriles are dead. Our father is watching from above and he’s happy, Richard. You hear me? He is happy!”

Richard’s face turned white. “I must kill you,” he said very calmly. “Somebody give me a sword.”

Cerise rose. “Uncle Hugh and Mikita, take Erian out. Lock him in the north building. Make sure he can’t hurt himself.”