Ilona Andrews - On the Edge

Georgie swallowed. His thoughts broke to pieces and ran in all directions, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch any of them.

“It seems like a hard choice,” the man said. A kind tone overlaid his words, but it was shallow, and beneath it Georgie sensed ruthless hunger. “But upon closer examination, it really isn’t. You have a mother. She loves you. She feeds you, and clothes you, and brushes your hair. And you love her, am I correct? There is nothing stronger than the bond between a mother and her child. Your mother would do anything to keep you safe. Now I give you a chance to do something for her. You can save her life. That’s a wonderful trade, boy. The life of your mother for the life of a stranger. That’s a good, honorable trade.” He motioned with his right arm. “Come to me.”

Georgie finally managed to pin down a thought. “No.”

“Will you really let your mother die?” The man rocked back.

“I have no mother,” Georgie said. “And you’re lying. You would kill everyone.”

“From the mouths of babes . . .” Declan said.

Casshorn sighed. “It is a shame. I was looking forward to watching you strike the boy down, Declan. Witnessing you do things you hate is highly entertaining. No matter. Soon, I’ll watch you fight my wolf, which should prove quite a spectacle.” Casshorn turned to Georgie. “Are you sure you don’t want to move the stones, boy? I promise, I would make it quick, if not painless, for you.”

“Leave him be,” Declan said.

“I can’t,” Casshorn said, his voice slightly puzzled. “You see, he is so very full of magic. It awakens a most peculiar sensation in me. A kind of longing. I think it’s hunger. They say that human meat has a peculiar taste. I’ve been developing a craving for it of late. It’s odd. I’ve never been guilty of gluttony, but once I kill you, Declan, I think I’ll gorge myself on your flesh.”

Georgie shuddered. Declan simply stared.

Rose’s voice floated through the kitchen window. “I found them! Honestly, Jack, is it too much trouble to take care of your shoes?”

“A girl,” Casshorn said. “Of course. Is she delicious like the child?”

Declan said nothing.

“I see. There is another child inside, isn’t there? You do understand you can’t protect them? I’ll pick them off one by one, when you’re not looking. And then I’ll feed. Especially on the girl. Such a lovely voice. I bet she’s succulent. Juicy.” Casshorn shivered. “It was a mistake to come here alone, Declan. You aren’t enough to stop me, and the locals are too weak to help you. They scurry to and fro like garbage rats atop their little garbage heap between the worlds, but in the end they will all die. I know why my brother sent you—he hopes to avoid the scandal. I know why you’ve agreed to come alone—you’re still hoping to save the wolf from the executioner’s axe. None of it will make an iota of difference. As usual, you’re too late . . .”

“You’re raving,” Declan told him.

“Am I? I must be.” Casshorn sighed again in resignation. “It’s time to go, I suppose. I leave you with this parting thought: you may think you can put yourself between the girl and my hounds in the Edge, but what will you do when she goes into the Broken, where my wolf prowls? He will slit her throat and paint himself red. You remember how much he enjoys murder . . .”

The puddle beneath Casshorn had dried up completely. He began to fade from the bottom up. “This is just lovely,” he said. “And here I was thinking I would get bored.” He dipped his fingers into his hood and held them out as if blowing a kiss. “Until later, children.”

He vanished. The last shreds of magic dissolved into the air. Nothing remained of the beast or the puddle.

Georgie swallowed. His whole body had gone numb, and now little needles pricked his fingers and feet. “Who was that?”

“A sick man overdue for his cure,” Declan said, looking at his sword. “For him, there is only one kind.”

“He’s evil,” Georgie said softly.

“Yes, he is.”

“Is he really going to eat me?”

Declan looked like he hurt himself. “He’ll try. He won’t succeed. I’ll stop him.”

Georgie hugged himself. “Why would he want to eat anybody?”

“He’s ill,” Declan said. “He wanted power, and now he has it, and it’s twisting him.”

“Is he going to kill Rose?”

“I promise you I’ll take care of Rose,” Declan said. “Nothing will happen to her or you, as long as I’m around. Rose doesn’t trust me, and she and I will have to settle this between ourselves. But you and your brother mustn’t fear me. If you’re in danger, find me and I’ll help. You don’t have to handle it on your own. I’ll protect you. Do you understand?”

Georgie nodded. He understood, and he felt deep down that Declan meant it. Still, Declan wasn’t to be trusted.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell your sister about this. No need to worry her.”

Georgie nodded to keep him happy. Declan got up and headed down the road, back in the direction from which he had come. In a few breaths he disappeared behind the bend. A moment later Rose burst out the door, Jack behind her.

Georgie jumped to his feet. “I have to tell you something.”

“Not right now!”

“But Rose!”

“Not right now, Georgie. It can wait until I get back. Come on.”

Rose and Jack took off down the road, and Georgie had no choice but to follow.

ROSE waited inside Burger King. It was twenty past eleven, and the lunch crowd had yet to gather. She’d made it just in time—two minutes after she’d walked through the door, the Clean-n-Bright van, carrying Latoya, Teresa, and a couple of other women, rolled into the parking lot. They sat down to eat, and she sat down to think.

Rose shifted, trying to get comfortable in the concrete-hard chair. She had no appetite. Visions of terrifying bruise purple creatures kept flittering across her mind. She’d left the boys with Grandma, and Éléonore was no lightweight. Still, the anxiety ate at Rose. She regretted coming to work, but Emerson left her without a choice. She couldn’t afford to have her check shredded.

Latoya swept by, carrying her tray. She was tall and looked taller, her body sharp and narrow-boned, all angles and long limbs. Her hair was thick and lustrous, falling down in curvy waves she’d bleached to platinum blond. The blond had worn off, and Latoya’s waves had gained a slightly greenish tint. People called her Mophead, although never to her face. You messed with Latoya at your own peril.

“You want some food?”

“No.” In a rush Rose had forgotten to make a lunch, and she had no money.

“Girl, you’ve got to eat!”

Rose shook her head. “I’m not hungry. Really.”

Latoya turned to the counter, where tiny Juniper Kozlowski manned the register in her manager’s uniform. “She won’t eat, June.”

Juniper bristled. “You come to my place, you have to eat, Rose.”

“Thanks, I’m not hungry.”

Latoya grimaced. “At least come sit with us.”

“If I sit with you, you’ll try to feed me.” Rose smiled.

“Well, you have to eat!” Latoya grunted. “Look, don’t worry about Emerson. He’s an ass, but you’re one of his best cleaners.”

“I’m not worried,” Rose lied. “Thank you for picking me up.”

Latoya shook her head and sat at the bigger table to the left, with the rest of the Clean-n-Bright crew.

Rose looked out the window. She wasn’t in the habit of feeling sorry for herself, but she had to admit that lately life just kept kicking her. First, the blueblood, then the hounds, and now, once her shift ended and she went back, she would have to fight Emerson for the money she had earned.