Ilona Andrews - On the Edge

ROSE sat in the attic, the enormous dusty Encyclopedia of the Weird spread open on her lap. The book was two feet tall, about a foot thick, and heavy as hell, and her thighs were sweaty and rapidly going numb in her jeans.

She had gone through the Bestiary but found nothing that had to do with the hounds. The Encyclopedia was her next best bet.

She turned the big page and adjusted her posture a bit. Her butt was going numb, too.

Adrianglia, Formal Forms of Address. She scanned down the ranks . . . Earl. Earl of “Domain Name . ” Lord “Name . ” She yawned and flipped back a page.

Earl—derivative of the Northland jarl . Equivalent to Count in Gaulic Empire. Landed noble above viscount but below marquis.

What was his name . . . Earl Carmine? Carmaine? Camarine. Yes, that was it. She turned the pages to the index and found Earl Camarine .

Earl Camarine: noble ruling Earldom of Camarine. Traditional domain of the Duke of the Southern Provinces. Most frequently used as a courtesy title.

“Courtesy title.” She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but she got the gist of it. For all of his la-di-da manners, Declan wasn’t even a real earl. Rose snickered.

“Rose!” Georgie’s high-pitched voice shattered her thoughts.

“Coming!” She pushed the book off her lap and went down the ladder, dusting off her jeans. “Georgie, did you go outside?” She marched onto the porch. “Didn’t I tell you to stay inside?”

Declan stood in the yard. In his arms curled Jack. His eyes were shut. He growled softly in his sleep and kneaded Declan’s arm with his claws. Declan didn’t even wince. “I think he’s tuckered out. Where do you want him?”

The world reared and kicked her in the teeth. She took a moment to recover, and when she spoke, her voice was almost normal. “I’ll take him.”

Declan gently deposited Jack into her arms. “I’m sure it would hurt his feelings, but he makes a handsome kit.”

“You should’ve seen him when he was a baby,” Rose said through her shock. “Nothing but fuzz and ear tufts. Every minute was like a National Geographic Kodak moment.”

She took Jack inside and gently put him in his bed.

In an hour she served dinner. Jack slept through it. Afterward Georgie curled up to reread InuYasha , yet again, and Rose brewed a cup of tea and escaped onto the porch. Her solitude didn’t last.

Declan sat next to her on the steps. “Disappointed?”

His voice held no mocking, and she shrugged. “Yes. How did you do it?”

“I set four traps and baited the most obvious one with a knife he drooled over in my room.”

What did she expect? After all, Jack was only eight. It was a huge burden to put on him. She shouldn’t have done it in the first place. When she had pictured Declan tracking Jack through the woods, the idea of him setting traps and lures had never entered her mind. “Boys and knives,” Rose murmured. “Irresistible attraction.”

“We never grow out of it.”

He certainly didn’t, considering how many swords and knives he dragged around with him. Dad’s entire room was full of blades.

In the soft light of the afternoon, Declan’s features gained a new tint. His eyes looked into the distance. He seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts. The harsh line of his mouth relaxed. His gaze lost its aggression. Sitting like this, he seemed almost approachable. The urge to touch him returned. It was natural, she told herself. He was so handsome, and she had no life. But just because she felt the irrational desire to kiss him didn’t mean she had to follow through with it.

The last time he let the blueblood persona slip, he was reasonable. Maybe if she told him a little more about them, he would understand and leave them in peace.

“You seem to like Jack,” she said carefully, testing the waters.

“He tried his best,” he said. “Tell me, why didn’t he change shapes when the hounds were after him on the lawn? The survival instinct should’ve driven him to become a lynx in the face of danger.”

Rose looked into her cup. “It might be different in the Weird, but when changelings shift in the Edge, it’s almost like a seizure. They fall down and convulse. It’s frightening, and it can last up to a minute. If he had changed shapes, the creatures would’ve torn him apart before he had a chance to finish. It took us a long time to teach him not to go cat every time he got scared. Did you see the bracelet he wears?”

“Yes.”

“I taught him that so long as the bracelet stays on, he knows not to change shapes. It’s not actually magic, or anything. Just conditioning.”

“That must’ve taken a lot of work.” His voice betrayed respect.

“It did.”

Declan hesitated, mulling something over. Something was clearly eating at him.

“In the Weird, the changeling children are segregated and taken to special schools until they become adults,” he said finally.

She glanced at him. “You exile children?”

Declan grimaced. “It’s not exactly like that. There are specialized trainers, who oversee their education . . .” He fell silent. “Yes,” he said with a measure of resignation. “We exile changeling children. It’s common wisdom that it’s better for them.”

“I can see how people would think that.”

His thick eyebrows crept up. “I didn’t expect you to agree with that.”

“Some changelings are born human. Jack was born a kitten. We knew something was wrong when he was in the womb, because my mother felt claws, and when Grandma did her spells, all the tests kept pointing to the forest. We couldn’t take my mother to the hospital, because my parents were afraid Jack would die without magic, and my dad had to pay a huge bribe to the midwife from the Broken, so we could get him the proper documents. When Jack was born, he wouldn’t nurse. My mother would pump her breast milk, and we had to feed it to him out of a bottle. It took him three days to change into a human, and when he finally did, he was still blind for almost a month. He looked odd as a baby. I thought he was deformed.”

She swallowed the last of her tea. “Even now, with Jack, it’s . . . it’s hard. He has moments when he stops understanding what’s being said. He hears the words and knows what they mean, but they just don’t penetrate. He doesn’t always comprehend why people react the way they do. And he fights like a maniac. Older kids are terrified of him. Every time my phone rings and it’s the school, I get panicky, because I always think he must’ve hurt someone. So yes, I can see how some people might find it too much. Ordinary human kids are hard enough as it is. Don’t get me wrong, I would never give Jack up. Never. They’d have to pry him from my dead fingers. But I always wonder, what if I’m doing things wrong?”

“He’s one of the most socialized changelings I have ever seen,” Declan said. “He goes to a regular school. He plays. He’s smart and can be reasoned with, and he shows empathy for other people. He talked about protecting George. I don’t think you understand how remarkable that is.”

She glanced at him. “He’s just a little boy, Declan. You talk like he isn’t human.”

Declan’s face looked haunted. “I have a friend,” he said. “We were soldiers together.”

Not only was he a blueblood, but he was also a soldier. An officer, no doubt. No wonder he thought ordering people around was the only way to communicate. “How long were you in the military?”

“Ten years,” Declan said.

“That’s a long time,” she said.

“I thought it was better suited to me than being a peer,” he said.