I caught Prudence forcing herself to give me a small smile through the pain. I smiled back.
Sterling rubbed limply at his arm, lips still upturned. “Fine,” he muttered. But the anger was still there, only redirected. He thrust his hand out, his finger cutting a direct line towards Sam. “Then who is that?”
Sam puffed his chest up, his chin jutting out, but he said nothing.
“Sterling. Surely you can afford our guests a little more courtesy.” Carver’s voice streamed calmly over us all, taking the wind out of Sterling’s sails. His boots clicked over the stone floor as he approached, arms folded, one hand cupping his chin. “Such a commotion over something so trivial. Prudence Leung is always welcome in the Boneyard.” He stared down the bridge of his nose, his gaze even. “That is, for as long as she promises never to reveal its location.”
She raised three fingers, coughing weakly. “Scout’s honor. Work is work, but you guys are okay.”
“Very good. And I suppose we can expect the same assurances from our new friend here.” Carver stroked his beard in measured silence, as if pausing for emphasis. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“It’s Sam,” Sam said. His spine was still set defiantly, but he was shifting around, as if uncomfortable under Carver’s gaze.
“Oh,” Carver said. “Is it, now?”
I narrowed my eyes, watching the two of them carefully, and realizing that the rest of the room was quietly observing as well. Asher’s hand pulsed with green light as he held it over Gil’s hand, mending his torn fingers and nails, but even he was waiting for the pin to drop.
Carver cleared his throat. “Sam it is, then. My name is Carver. You are, of course, welcome in our home, for as long as you swear not to threaten the lives of my charges.”
Sam frowned. “I would do no such thing. I brought them here safely, to heal, to regroup. If I’d wanted to hurt your subordinates I would have killed them instead of taking them to their haven.”
“Or,” Carver said. “You intentionally garnered Dustin’s trust in order to find our home. To strike at our heart.”
“Say the word and I’ll kill him,” Sterling growled.
“What the hell is going on here?” I said, my head spinning. “Carver. He saved us. Sam is okay. He’s not going to hurt us.”
“Oh, I would hope so,” Carver said. “For your friend here could wipe us out with a snap of his fingers if he wished it.”
“I said I didn’t mean you harm,” Sam said, his fists balled. “And I meant it. That’s not why I’m here.”
Prudence gripped the armrests of her chair tight, her fingers digging into the upholstery. I rubbed at my temples, taking slow, measured breaths, the air so thick with tension.
“Would someone,” I said, “please explain what’s going on?”
“Gladly,” Carver said. He turned to me, the cat-like ocher of his eyes somehow burning cold. “You’ve brought a grenade into our midst, Mr. Graves. You’ve brought home an angel.”
Chapter 24
Asher was dumbstruck, his mouth hanging open. The undirected healing energy coursing from his fingers started to spill onto the floor. Prudence watched in silence, eyes wide, as Gil remained stoic and stone-faced.
Sterling had somehow found his way behind one of the larger sofas, crouching behind it for cover.
“Are you crazy?” he hissed, his eyes piercing my skin. “What the hell were you – Dustin I swear, if he kills me, I’m going to kill you.”
Reasonable, and logical. “I had no idea,” I said.
But didn’t I? There were some hints, sure. Sam’s enigmatic nature, for one, and the fact that he was so, well, flighty. Literally. But nothing else about him came off as particularly angelic. Then again, what did I know about angels, anyway? I was distracted, too, unable to let go of the lingering possibility that he was the Tome all along. But the more likely reason: the clues didn’t fit.
“He’s not the one who’s been controlling people,” I said, trying to shove the pieces of the puzzle together. “It’s impossible. He’s been helping.”
“He was there the night we were attacked,” Sterling said. “Outside the Black Market. Remember?”
Prudence shifted in her seat. “And he was at the scene of tonight’s massacre, too. With Bastion.”
“That doesn’t explain anything,” I said.
“Doesn’t it?” Sterling dared to peek his he