Dead Man's Deal The Asylum Tales

27

A SOFT SCRATCHING sound on glass rose over the fading chords of a Perfect Circle song playing through the speakers. I looked up as Trixie stepped away from me, also searching for the source of the sound. We turned toward the front door to see a little demonic face peering through the glass at the top. Duff was hanging upside down, clinging to the top of the door as he stared at us with his impish grin.

Bronx stepped into the lobby as I opened the door to let the hobgoblin in. Extending his leathery wings, he caught the wind as he dropped so that he could easily glide into the shop. He circled the lobby once, wagging his fingers at Trixie before lightly landing on the glass case that served as a counter. Duff puffed up his little chest and threw his wings out wide as if trying to warn off Bronx before he took a couple sniffs of the air.

“You got a cat in here?” he asked, cocking his head at me.

“No cat,” I said as I shut the door.

“You sure about the cat? I can smell a cat here.” He scuttled around the case, gazing over the edge and down through the glass, searching for Sofie.

“I’m sure. The cat’s not in the shop today,” I reassured him. He nodded, sitting down on the case with his wings gathered behind his back. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to let him rest. “Did you find him?”

“We almost lost him a couple times, but he’s not sneaky enough,” he said with an evil chuckle.

“Where is he?”

“Home.”

My stomach did a sickening little flop at that single word, but I pushed the feeling down and clenched my hands into fists along the end of the case. “He’s hoping for a little safety in numbers to work in his favor. Where are they now?”

“That’s the strange thing,” he said with a shake of his head. “They’re close. The Svartálfar are never near when another Court is close, and I know that the Summer Court is in the immediate area.”

Trixie’s hand grabbed my wrist, her nails biting into my flesh, drawing my gaze to her stricken face. I covered her hand with my free one. “I’m sure they’re only in town to stir up trouble, but we both know that their problems have already been taken care of.”

She nodded stiffly, forcing out a breath, but her grip didn’t immediately ease on my wrist. I had a feeling she wasn’t going to relax until she knew the Svartálfar had left the area or that the throne of the Summer Court was secure. With any luck, the queen and king were already working on that.

“Was he tracking the one who has the information?” Trixie inquired. I nodded.

“Reave?” Bronx’s deep voice swept through the room. He was frowning, a look of worry in his eyes.

I nodded. “He was using my brother as a delivery boy for the info, but I made a slight change of plans in hopes of protecting him. I’m going after Reave next.”

“What do you mean you’re going after him?” Trixie snapped. Using her grip on my wrist, she pulled me so that I was forced to turn and look at her. Fear clouded her lovely eyes and cut lines of worry around her mouth. “If you know where he’s at, can’t you send some message to the Towers telling them? Let them handle it.”

“You know that won’t work. Do you think the Towers would bother to sort out who knew what? No. They’d exterminate every dark elf in the area.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she said in a low, hard voice.

“You don’t mean that.” She looked away from me, but I put my hand against her cheek and turned her face back to me. “I won’t let them exterminate another group. And even if they did, it wouldn’t stop them from coming after me later. I need to deliver Reave to the Towers personally.”

“You’re going back?” She whispered her question so softly that I barely heard it, but there was no missing the horror in her expression. “You can’t go back. They’ll kill you. There has to be another way.”

“If I don’t go, they’ll kill me. They’re going to question Reave before he’s killed. My name and my brother’s are going to come up. I have to try to control the damage if I’m going to have any chance of saving either of our lives. I have to go,” I said, hating myself for the pain I was causing her.

Her voice drifted to me, weak and thready. “There has to be another way.” She sounded as if she were being haunted by visions of my dead body. Unfortunately, she had already seen that once. I’d prefer it if she’d never have to repeat that experience.

“There’s not,” I said firmly, then looked up at Bronx, who was watching with his usual unreadable, stoic expression. “If things go badly and I don’t come back right away, I’ve left a copy of my will in the back room. It can’t be executed until I’ve been missing for eighteen months, but it contains all the information and passwords you might need to keep the shop going. I’m leaving everything to you and Trixie.”

Pain exploded across my cheek, jerking my head around to look down at Trixie’s tear-streaked face. “How can you talk so calmly of dying? If you go after Reave, I’m not sticking around here, waiting to hear whether you’ve been killed or not. I can’t do it.”

The pain tearing through my heart was infinitely worse than the temporary pain in my cheek. But I pushed it back, keeping my tone hard and even. “That’s fine. You’ve got somewhere safe to go now.”

She gasped, taking an unsteady step away from me. “You’ve planned this all along. It’s the reason you’ve helped the elves.”

“When I started, it was about making sure you could stay here with me, but recently, yes, I needed somewhere you could hide safely if I failed.”

A bitter smile twisted on her mouth. “Well, you succeeded in that, because I’m not waiting here for news of your death. I can’t. Not again.” Trixie turned sharply on her heel and stalked out of the room, sliding past Bronx and into the back. I could hear her heels pounding on the floor until she reached the back room and slammed the door behind her. Duff stood and glared at me for a second before shape-shifting into a pixie so that he could easily dart off through the parlor after Trixie.

“She’s scared,” Bronx said, and I nodded in a jerky motion. “But you know she’ll be here when you get back. We both will be.”

I narrowed my eyes at the troll. “Why aren’t you asking to come with me?”

“Would you let me?”

“No.”

The troll raised both eyebrows at me and gave a little smirk. “And that would be why.” He shrugged his massive shoulders as he laid his hands on the countertop. “Seems like it’s a magic users’ party anyway and we trolls aren’t so strong at magic.” His light expression slipped away and he frowned at me. “I would go with you, though. I’d take on the Svartálfar and go with you to the Ivory Towers.”

“I know. I’d choose you guarding my back over a hundred warlocks anytime.”

“Thank you.”

I smiled weakly. “Watch over Trixie for me.”

“Of course.”

There was nothing left to say. I was merely wasting time because I didn’t want to go charging after Reave into the heart of the Svartálfar nation. I didn’t want to risk my life to capture him, only to take my life in my hands again when I delivered him to the Towers. Despite all my planning, this wasn’t going to end well. It couldn’t. But I had to keep moving. The longer I delayed, the more people were going to be hurt.

Pulling my wand out of my back pocket, I turned and opened the front door, sending a little electronic chime through the shop. As I expected, the hobgoblin darted from the back of the shop. He settled on my shoulder, one small arm resting on the top of my head while his long tail wrapped around my biceps. He had to give me some directions to Reave’s location. We stepped out into the cool night air, ready to hunt down a dark elf.