Aprilynne Pike - Spells

“No deal.”

Barnes turned the gun on Laurel now.

She didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to bargain,” he said. “We’re going to do it my way. I’ll tie you up, toss you in my Hummer, and we’ll go down to Orick. It’s that, or you all die here tonight. Oh, and we can take care of that shoulder thing now,” he said, lowering the gun so it pointed at her shoulder. Laurel closed her eyes and flexed her entire body, waiting for the impact.

“No,” David said, yanking her backward and stepping in front of her. “I won’t let you.”

Barnes laughed his harsh, almost wheezing laugh, making Laurel’s skin crawl. After so long she still remembered that laugh with absolute clarity. “Won’t let me? Like you can do anything about it, little boy,” Barnes taunted. He gestured to the other trolls. “Get him out of here.”

One troll grabbed Laurel by the shoulders to keep her still, then the redheaded troll closed his hand around David’s arm, but David was ready. He spun, breaking the troll’s grip, and swung his fist. It hit with a resounding crack! and the troll staggered back two steps.

Laurel watched in horror as David cradled his hand, then wound up to try again. She couldn’t move — couldn’t yell for him to wait, to be patient — without giving herself away. He’d saved her from Barnes’s gun and now he would suffer instead of her.

“David?” Chelsea’s voice sounded so small, so helpless, Laurel felt a lump grow in her throat.

The next troll was faster, kicking out one leg and catching David in the chest. Laurel grimaced and tried to pull away as she heard at least one rib crack under the impact of that foot, but the troll holding her maintained his iron grip. She glanced at Barnes; he was watching with an amused smile on his face, his gun still trained on her. She hated his smug smirk. Just looking at him made her a lot less upset about the gun she had tucked away.

“David!” Chelsea yelled again as a strangled groan escaped David’s mouth.

“Chelsea, it’s okay,” Laurel called, but she could hear the terror in her own voice. “Please just hold still.” To Laurel’s relief, she stilled instead of trying to wiggle away from the thick, calloused fingers clenched at her neck.

The half-bodybuilder troll threw a punch at the helpless, hunched David, but it was strangely slow and off center, so it glanced off David’s cheekbone — though still hard enough to split his skin. The troll spun awkwardly, stumbling and landing on the floor.

“Get up, you stupid oaf!” Barnes yelled as the other trolls grabbed David’s arms, but the fallen troll didn’t move. The one with the twisted shoulders pulled out a loop of rope and moved to secure him. David yanked his arm out of the troll’s grasp and shoved him away; the troll fell to the floor as unconscious as the other.

“What the—” Barnes stammered, clearly confused. The redheaded troll forced David’s arms back behind him and secured him, struggling, to the stair rail. David yanked at his arms, trying to free them, but he couldn’t get loose. He looked desperately at Laurel, blood trailing down his face now, but she was studying the troll beside him. Slowly, so painfully slowly, the troll fell to his knees and collapsed on the ground. Then finally, the troll holding Laurel in place collapsed. A few seconds later David stood, tied securely to the railing, with four trolls at his feet.

Barnes swiftly switched his attention back to Laurel.

She had her gun out and pointed right at his head. “It’s over, Barnes,” she said, forcing back the hysteria that was threatening to erupt. “Put down your gun.”

“Well, you’re not the girl I met last year, are you?” Barnes studied her coolly. “You couldn’t shoot me even to save your little vegetable friend back then. Now you’ve dropped all four of my guys.” He grinned. “You’re still waiting for me to fall, aren’t you?”

Laurel said nothing, just focused on holding the gun steady.

“That stuff doesn’t work on me,” he said with a strange laugh. “Let’s just say I made a deal with a devil and now I’m immune.” He paused, meeting Laurel’s eyes. “What now?” he asked, his expression still amused.

Laurel watched her perfect plan come crumbling down around her.

“I want answers,” Laurel said, forcing her arms not to shake as she held the gun up, pointing at Barnes’s chest. She knew she couldn’t really trust whatever he might tell her, but she had to stall. Do something to give her time to think.

“Answers?” he said. “That’s all you want? Answers are cheap. I’d have given them to you without the gun.” He paused, looking at her with interest. “Ask me your burning questions, Laurel,” he said mockingly.

“Where are my sentries? Did you kill them?”

He laughed. “Hardly. They’re off chasing a red herring. A damn good red herring, if I do say so myself. They think they’re saving you from me. They’ll be back when they realize the trail of faerie blood is leading them nowhere.”

“Whose blood?” Laurel said, her voice shaking now.

Barnes grinned. “No one…important.”

“Why now?” Laurel asked, forcing thoughts of dead sentries out of her head. She couldn’t do anything about that right now. “Why didn’t you do this a month ago? Six months ago? Why now, and why Chelsea?”

He shook his head. “Your tiny world is so simple. You think there’s me and my little band against you and your little band. But you’re just a myopic little brat, a pawn, a stooge . When there are only a handful of players it’s easy to arrange everything perfectly. But when you have numberless players, infinite factors, it takes time for everything to fall into place.” He shrugged. “And besides, it was good sport. I wanted to take you right from your carefully barricaded home, but your sentries gave me some trouble. So I stopped trying to do it the hard way.” He petted Chelsea’s hair, his hand tightening around her neck as she tried to squirm away. “Chelsea here was so much less protected than you. It was easy to nab her. And you’re too soft-hearted for your own good. I knew you’d come. So,” he said, pressing his gun a little harder against Chelsea’s head, “now we have an interesting bet. Can you shoot the big, nasty troll before he shoots your little friend? Because let me tell you, Laurel, I think you might really shoot me. But can you do it before I shoot her?”

“Laurel, whatever he wants, don’t give it to him!” Chelsea yelled.

“Shut up, you little brat,” Barnes said. He tightened his finger on the trigger, and Laurel took one step forward.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Barnes said. “I’m not going to shoot her yet. I don’t think this is quite interesting enough.” Then with a movement so quick she scarcely saw it, Barnes released Chelsea’s neck, pulled another gun from a hidden holster, and pointed it at David.

Laurel could hardly breathe as all hope of escape vanished.

“After getting cornered by you last year, I’ve learned to always carry more than one gun, Miss Sewell.” He turned his attention back to her, firearms aimed expertly at Chelsea and David. “See, I suspect you might risk one friend’s life to save yourself and your boyfriend here, but will you risk two friends’ lives just to save yourself?”

Maybe she could bargain. She had to try; she had no other options. “Okay,” Laurel said, dropping her gun to the floor with a loud clatter. “I give up.”

“Laurel!” David shouted. “Don’t do it!” He continued to struggle against his bonds.

“There’s no other way.” She slowly raised her hands over her head just as a loud creak sounded from the stairwell.