Oblivion Heart (Darkling Mage 4)

“Mother, please,” Bastion said. “Dust said so. That’s quite unnecessary.”

“It really is,” I said, some part of me secretly hoping she’d finished her sentence. Just how much money was saving Bastion’s bacon worth? Guess I’ll never know.

He clapped me on the shoulder, squeezing tight, staring me in the eye. “Dude. Thanks again. Seriously. For everything.”

I smiled, not at all unhappy that Bastion was being nice to me for once. I handed him the Null Dagger, carefully rewrapped in its shroud of cloth.

“This is yours.”

“Thank you again, Dustin,” Luella said as Bastion dragged her by the arm back to their sedan, Remington patiently holding the door open. “Do you need a new computer? A new phone? Let me buy you a car. No, two cars.”

“Mother, please.” Bastion grunted as he stuffed Luella into the back of their car. “We’ll buy him a sensible thank you gift the way sensible people do.” He turned to me, smiling, then gave me a little wave. “See you, Dust.”

I waved back. “Not too soon, Bastion. Not too soon.”

I watched as the Brandts’ sedan drove off, disappearing into the distance. Then I jumped when something tugged on my arm.

“Prudence?”

She threw her arms around my neck as well. Lots of hugs this morning, I thought. I could get used to this. I smiled and hugged her back.

“Thank you for saving him,” Prudence said, her voice faint, strained. “Whatever it was you did, thank you. He’s a stupid idiot, but I love him like a brother. I really do.”

I patted her on the back, smiling at Gil as he stepped out of the restaurant behind her.

“Walking her home,” he said, eagerly taking Prudence’s hand when she reached for his.

“You kids be good,” I said. “And stay safe.”

Prudence winked. “You know we won’t.”

“Gross,” I said. “I walked right into that one.”

They sauntered off, hand in hand. Surreal, really, thinking back to the day I died, and seeing how the threads of friendship and family had bonded me to this strange assortment of people, human or otherwise. My ties here were stronger than those I’d ever forged with anyone in my entire life, save my own family.

I knew what Bastion meant to say when he looked me in the eye, when we’d talked about Sam dying for me. Bastion would never admit it, but he would have done the same. And in some bizarre, irrational way, I knew I would do that for him too, and gladl

y. As much as we butted heads, as much hell as Bastion gave me in my entire time working for the Lorica, I’d take a bullet for him. I’d take a bullet for any of these people.

I meant to keep watching the sun rise, to take in the neighborhood as the bodegas lifted their shutters, as people made their way to work, as gluttons for punishment and potential victims of early morning muggings went out on their jogs. But the door to Mama Rosa’s Fine Filipino Food swung open yet again. I looked over my shoulder to find Carver watching me expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

“Well? Come in out of the cold. We still need to examine you, make sure you’re in acceptable condition.”

I smiled. “I’ll be right in, Carver.”

He shook his head. “Now, Dustin. Asher wants to hear everything that happened, and Sterling is worried sick.”

Something scuffled from out of the kitchen, the diffused orange light telling me that the portal into the Boneyard was still active. Sterling popped his head around the corner.

“I wasn’t worried,” he spat at Carver, scowling. “Why did you tell him I was worried? I wasn’t worried.”

“Sure you weren’t,” I said. My smile grew even wider. “Fine. I’m coming.”

Carver held the door open for me, and I hummed gratefully for the warmer air inside the restaurant. He patted me on the arm, as close to affectionate as he’d ever be.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Dustin. I’m glad you’re alive. Welcome home.”

Home. The sweetest word. Carver waved his fingers, and the chains and padlocks protecting the restaurant snaked into life, securing the door. The shutter came down on its own.