Ilona Andrews - On the Edge

“Like a runner whose race had been cut short,” Declan said.

“Yes. It’s selfish and terrible of me, and I’m ashamed of it. I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.”

He pulled her to him, wrapping his massive arm around her back. She pushed away.

“Let me hold you,” he said. “I won’t ‘maul’ you. You need it. Just sit with me.”

There was a quiet strength in the way he held her, and she drew on it, wrapped up in his warmth and the scent of his skin. She’d never had anyone to lean on, not like this. He made her feel so safe that she was afraid to let go, terrified that she would break into tears if she did.

“I felt that way when Casshorn rescued William,” he said. “And felt like scum for it. I was sure nothing good would come of it. I knew it then, but what could I say? No, Will, take the death instead?”

“Why did Casshorn do it?” she asked.

“Me. I think he was planning the beginnings of this insanity back then. Casshorn is older than me by three decades. He’s well trained and he’s dangerous and skilled, but he always lacked the perseverance and discipline necessary to truly master a weapon. In his best moments, he’s brilliant, but it will do him no good in a direct fight. If we cross blades, I’ll cut him down. He’s well aware of it. He wanted William to use against me. William’s deadly with any blade, especially knives.”

“But William is your friend.”

There was a tiny pause. “After William was released, I met him at one of the formal dinners His Grace gave. He came as Casshorn’s adopted son. He wouldn’t speak to me.”

Rose glanced at his face. “I’m so sorry. Did you ever find out why?”

“No. I don’t know if he was angry because I failed to secure his release or if it was something Casshorn told him about me. The next thing I knew, both of them were gone. You spoke to him. What did he say?”

“He mostly tried to get me to go out with him. The last time he spoke, he told me he wanted me because the boys and I were together. He said he never had a family and always wanted one, and we fit the bill.”

“Well, he’ll have to do without,” Declan said with the warmth of a glacier. “You’re mine, and he can’t have you.”

Well then. “That sounds pretty final. Do I even have a say in this?”

“Of course you do,” he said softly. “If you say no, I’ll have to accept it.”

Sure, he said that now. But the oath he swore was very clear. If he won the challenges, Declan gained the right to her. She would be his possession. Not a wife, not a friend, a lover, or an equal. A possession.

Declan always planned things out. He didn’t know her at the time he swore the oath and probably thought she was unhinged. He had phrased his oath to gain as much as he could with minimal risk, relying on his presence and her fear to carry it through. If only she had called his bluff. He wouldn’t have hurt the boys, not in a million years. He would’ve walked away. But then she wouldn’t have gotten to know him. Rose tried to imagine him leaving on that day without another word. Her throat constricted. Her heart beat faster. She leaned a little closer to him, seeking reassurance that he was still here in spite of herself and realized a simple fact.

She was in love with Declan Camarine.

But loving him and being with him weren’t the same thing. He was still a blueblood, and she . . . She had no dowry and no pedigree. She didn’t fit into his world any more than he fit into hers. He wanted her. She was a challenge, and just like Grandma said, Declan couldn’t resist. And once he got her, what then? One day they would wake up next to each other, and he would be Earl Camarine, lord of a dozen places with names she couldn’t remember, and she would still be only Rose.

She swallowed. In her head she pictured him walking out the door, never to come back. The anxiety squeezed her heart in a lead fist.

“There is no hope for us,” she said softly.

“There is always hope,” Declan said. “As dangerous as Casshorn is, he’s also irrational, and that weakens him.”

She shook her head and forced herself to pull free of him. He didn’t understand. He concentrated on the biggest threat, and it would do her good to do the same. For now, she had to keep her worries to herself. Casshorn had to come first.

“As far as William goes, I don’t know what the devil he’s doing, but I doubt he’s helping Casshorn,” Declan said.

“What makes you think that?”

“William is a decorated veteran with over a decade in the Legion. Casshorn couldn’t hack it in the Legion longer than six months. Hell, he couldn’t hack it in the research branch of the Airforce.” Declan shook his head. “All he had to do was study wyverns, and he failed at that. I have no respect for him, and I wouldn’t suffer his orders. I don’t see why Will would.”

“So why is he here, then?” She frowned.

“I don’t know.” Declan grimaced. “I know what I’m going to do once I find him.”

“And that would be?”

“I’ll beat him bloody.”

She blinked.

“I walked away from eleven years in the Legion to pull his ar—him out of the fire. One would expect a thank-you or at least a cordial demeanor. Failing that, one would expect some small courtesy for old times’ sake, such as a note perhaps, something along the lines of ‘My adoptive father is about to make off with a world-destroying device, so he can kill us all. Just thought you’d like to know.’ ”

“Maybe he didn’t know.”

Declan gave her a hard look. “He knew.”

“A little of you is pissed off because he didn’t go all to pieces thanking you for saving him,” she said.

Declan swore. “I couldn’t care less.”

“It bothers you. It would bother me, too.”

A man appeared at the end of the road. Slight, a bit di sheveled, he wore black pants, a red polo shirt, and a dark leather vest over it. The shirt and pants sagged on his thin frame. He was balding, and the remains of his short hair and a neatly trimmed, short beard were liberally salted with gray. His face radiated calm kindness, and he smiled at them as he came down the road, leading a horse to the house, but his hooded eyes were solid black.

Declan focused on the man with predatory alertness. “Who is that?”

Rose sighed. There went her chance to talk. “That’s Jeremiah Lovedahl.”

“Why is he coming here?”

“Supposedly he’s coming to take Grandmother and the boys to Wood House. It’s a heavily warded shelter deep inside the Wood.”

“You seem skeptical,” he said.

“He has an agenda,” Rose said. “The Edge is very much an ‘every man for himself’ kind of place. But once in a while we run across a threat that’s too much for any one family to handle on its own. At times like this, people like my grandma and Jeremiah step forward. They’re our elders. There are six of them, and when they agree on something, East Laporte usually pays attention.”

“They won’t compel you to obey, but they issue advisory opinions?” Declan asked.

She nodded. “Something like that. After we had that fight, I called them for Grandma and they had themselves a huddle. They’ve realized that we’re too weak to fight Casshorn directly, so they’re trying to outsmart him. First step is to deprive him of food, so to starve him and the hounds, they ‘advised’ getting the hell out of town. Last night everyone with a drop of sense packed up, and this morning, they all drove out as if to work in the Broken, but none of them are coming back. Some holdouts remain, as usual, but what are you going to do?” She shrugged. “The Edgers are outcasts. For some of us, our house and land are all we have. I swear, you could have a wall of fire sweeping through East Laporte, and some of the harder heads would hole up on their property. They’d rather die than leave.”