“Join the club.”
They fell silent. Up here, high above the streets, all was quiet. Far below, she could hear the faint hum of traffic. She rubbed her hands up her arms. Her body was rigid with tension and a tight knot of nausea burned in her belly. She wanted something to happen. Anything was better than this waiting. Though most of all, she wanted Christian to magically appear, and everything to be all right.
She raised her head. There was a change in the air.
Piers stepped closer. “Do you feel it?”
She nodded. “What is it?”
“Our first visitors, and I’m guessing it’s not your dad.”
“Don’t call him that. He’ll never be anything to me.”
Piers pointed. “Over there.”
At first, Tara saw nothing different. Then the air thickened until it was a tangible thing, like smoke and mist. She stared as the figures formed within the mist.
Tara’s hand dropped to the gun at her waist, she fingered the grip. “Can’t we just shoot them now?”
Carl laughed softly behind her. “I think I might have mentioned it before, but you’re a bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”
Tara glowered at the “little.” “You’re not the one they’re here to kill. I don’t see anyone referring to you as an abomination.”
“Not and living. And no, unfortunately, we can’t shoot them yet. Bullets would go right through.”
The figures solidified.
“Now, we can shoot them,” Piers said. “Though it’s hardly a permanent solution—kill them here and they just re-manifest in the Faelands. I think we’ll see what they have to say first.”
“Is one of them the Walker?” Tara asked.
“The tall one in the middle. He has a bit of the look of you, don’t you think?”
Tara studied the man. This was her uncle, and he was one of the most beautiful beings she had ever seen. Tall and willowy, pale blond hair pulled back from his face to show high cheekbones and slanted grass green eyes. Her eyes.
He was dressed in tight black pants, long leather boots, and a loose white shirt. A long sword hung buckled from his waist. At each side stood another armed man.
All three were expressionless.
“Stay here,” Piers said and stepped forward. “Walker.”
The Walker’s eyes locked with Tara’s. They widened as he took in her appearance, and she saw recognition flare in his face. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out, or draw her gun and shoot him, but she let the hatred show clear in her eyes. She wasn’t going to cower, or beg for her life. This was the man ultimately responsible for her mother’s death. If it hadn’t been for him, and beings like him, her mother would have gone home and been safe and cared for. How different would Tara’s life have been?
“If looks could kill,” Carl whispered in her ear.
Tara forced her gaze away. “I don’t like him,” she said.
“I think the feeling is mutual.”
“Yes but the difference is I’ve got a good reason to hate him, whereas he’s just a narrow-minded, bigoted bastard.”
He laughed softly. “Shh,” he said. “Let’s hear what they have to say.”
“Where is Christian Roth?” The Walker asked.
Piers looked around the rooftop with exaggerated care. “Not here.”
“It’s only hours since he gave his oath and it is already broken.”
“He had a little demon problem to sort out, and your niece refused to cooperate with the plan. I guess being a pain in the ass must run in the family.”
“My niece?” His gaze ran over Tara, coming to rest on her face. “It’s curious, but obviously fae blood is stronger than that of demons. She could pass as fae.”
“No, thanks,” Tara muttered.
His brows drew together in a frown, and his eyes narrowed. The Walker turned back to Piers. “Hand the abomination over to us and we will forget this. You and your people can go.”
“Thanks,” Piers said dryly. “But they’re not ‘my people,’ and I’m curious. What do you plan to do with ‘the abomination’?” He glanced at Tara as he spoke and winked.
“Destroy her, of course.” He gave Piers a considering look. “Unless you prefer to kill her yourself. Her blood should be…” He studied Tara for a moment. “Interesting. I remember you had a fondness for the demon-fae.”
“You’re a piece of shit, Walker, you know that?”
His eyes cold, the Walker stared back. “So you refuse to give her to us?”
“Yup.”
“You have a duty as head of the Order, to follow the Accords.”
Piers shrugged. “I was bored with the job anyway.”
“Is she worth risking another war for?”
“Probably not, but I promised Christian I would keep her safe and I’m going to do that. If it means killing you three and hiding the bodies, well…” He shrugged. “I can live with that.”