Ilona Andrews - On the Edge

“So you’re here for revenge?”

William shook his head. “No. What he’s doing is treason. I swore to protect the realm.” He looked at her. “There are rules I will never break. They’re in me too deep. Treason is unthinkable.”

“Declan’s here to enforce the rules as well. If the two of you murder each other now, Casshorn will win.”

William growled again, a purely animal sound of warning and contained aggression. Every hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Rose forced herself to sound calm. “Casshorn’s gone insane. He wants to eat the boys. I don’t want my brothers to die. I don’t want to die either. Is there any way you and Declan can act like adults and postpone your reckoning until we kill him?”

William gave her a wary look. His eyes had cooled to an almost normal light brown.

“You’ve waited this long. Surely you could wait a little longer. Please?”

He leaned back and sucked in the air through his nose. “All right.”

“Thank you.” Rose smiled.

William’s head snapped up. He bared his teeth, his eyes flashing amber.

A moment later she heard it, too, a thudding of horse’s hooves. A rider burst from around the curve: Declan atop Jeremiah’s dark horse.

Rose stared, speechless. He just had to show up right this second.

Declan brought the horse to an abrupt halt and dismounted in front of the house. “Hey, Will.”

William inhaled deeply. “Declan. How did you know?” “The boy called me.”

She whipped about and saw George’s face go white in the window when he saw her expression. Little fool.

Declan unbuckled his sheath and leaned it and the sword against a shrub. William pulled out a large bowie knife and thrust it into the porch. “You’re good?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

William blurred. He struck so fast, she failed to see it. Declan dodged and rammed his elbow into William’s ribs. William spun, snapping a kick. Declan jerked back, and they broke apart.

They clashed in a whirl of kicks and punches, too fast to follow, dancing across the grass, lethal and quick. William hammered a savage jab into Declan’s ribs. Declan grunted and smashed his elbow into William’s face.

Whatever it was between them apparently couldn’t be resolved with words.

Behind Rose, the screen door opened and closed carefully. Jack and George came over and sat next to her.

On the lawn, William knocked Declan to the ground. Declan rolled up, and William sank punches into his face, one, two, three. Declan dropped to the ground, coughing, and kicked out, swiping William’s legs from under him. William crashed like a log, and they both leapt to their feet.

“Why are they fighting?” Jack asked.

William jabbed his fingers at Declan’s side.

“They’re close friends,” she said. “Like brothers. It’s easier than talking things out.”

Declan caught William’s arm.

“Oh.” Jack nodded. “Like me and George.”

“Like that,” she said.

William hammered his elbow into Declan’s stomach and broke free.

Rose put her arms around her brothers, and the three of them watched, cringing and making sucking noises when something crunched. What else was there to do?

Declan kicked William in the head. William staggered, shook his head, and launched a whirlwind of lightning-quick jabs. Declan blocked, and William sank a sharp punch into Declan’s midsection. The blueblood grunted and rammed his head into William’s face. Blood poured. They staggered away from each other, out of breath.

Declan bent over, shielding his side with his arm. William rubbed his face and raised his bloody fingers as if to say something. His knees gave out, and he dropped into the grass.

Declan sank down.

“That was awesome,” George said.

Jack offered no commentary, apparently too overcome with the coolness of the fight.

“Are you done?” Rose called out.

Declan glanced up. “Will?”

William waved his bloody hand.

“Yes, we’re done,” Declan said.

“Good,” she said, getting up. “Jack, help William inside the house to wash the blood off his face.”

She crossed the grass to Declan. “How are you?”

“Perfectly fine,” he said.

“Are your ribs broken?”

“Probably not. Cracked at most. We fought very carefully.”

“Did this settle anything?”

“It made me feel better,” he said, sitting up. “Did you see me kick him in the kidneys?”

“I saw.”

Declan gave her a sharp predatory smile. “He’ll feel it tomorrow morning.”

JACK watched William wash his face in the sink. The water ran red. The scent of blood, sharp and salty, was everywhere in the room. Jack didn’t care for human blood. It made him jumpy. The skin under his bracelet itched. He scratched at his wrist and fought the prickling pain of his claws wanting to come out. He couldn’t help it. William was bigger and stronger and bloody. He was a threat. A very nasty threat.

That fight was the best thing he had ever witnessed in his whole entire life.

“You got a towel?” William said.

Jack pulled a towel from the kitchen chair and brought it over to him. William pulled it from his fingers, wiped his face, and glanced at him. William’s eyes flared with gold. Wolf, shot through Jack’s head. He’d known William was some kind of changeling because he saw his eyes glow while he and George watched William talk to Rose, but he didn’t know what kind. Now he knew.

William lunged at him. Jack jerked back, but William caught him and dragged him up to his face.

Jack jerked, but William’s hands held him like big iron pinchers.

William stared into his eyes, his face completely white. “Show me your teeth.”

Jack hissed.

“You’re like me,” William whispered. He looked like someone had hit him in the gut.

“No,” Jack told him to make him feel better. “You’re a wolf, and I’m a cat. We’re different.”

William swallowed. “You live here?”

Something was wrong with him, Jack decided. Of course he lived here. But William was a big wolf, and it wasn’t wise to make him mad. He simply nodded.

“Do you have a room?”

Jack nodded.

“Where?”

Jack pointed with his head. His arms were still clamped to his sides by William’s hands.

William strode through the house, carrying him, stepped into his room, and sagged against the door. All the strength must have gone out of his arms, because they let go, and Jack squirmed out and landed on the floor.

William stared at his room. Jack looked, too, just in case there was something surprising there that William saw and he didn’t. It was a regular room. Two beds, one for him, one for George. Rose had made them both blankets with a crochet hook. His was blue and black, and George’s was red and black. He liked the blankets because even after you washed them, they still smelled like Rose.

He looked past the beds to the windowsill, where the seven-inch plastic Batman duked it out with Superman. In the corner, a beat-up shelf held some matchbox cars, books, and more figures. Jack went over to the shelf and pointed out the guys. “This is He-Man,” he said. “He’s my favorite. Rose bought him at a flea market, because I liked him.”

William just watched him. His eyes looked huge, and they were glowing.

“This guy, I don’t know what he is, but I like his armor. I think he might be like a knight. Only I don’t have a sword that fits into his hand, so he has a gun. So he’s a gun-knight, I think.”

Jack made He-Man and Gun-Knight fight a bit and looked at William. William didn’t look any better.

“I think you might be not right,” Jack said. “That’s okay. I get like that sometimes. When I’m real scared and I just want to hurt something. It’s okay. The important thing is don’t panic.”