Dark Harvest (Darkling Mage 2)

I twiddled my thumbs and watched as Carver pinched the bridge of his nose. Any minute now. Any minute. I steeled myself, and in time, his eyes flickered open, each one smoldering like an ember. I couldn’t even tell which one was fake. Both of them burned with very real anger. This had to be the point where he asked me to turn in my badge and my gun.

“What were you thinking?”

“I’m glad you asked,” I said, immediately regretting my defiance as soon as the words tumbled from my mouth, but too late. The room felt hotter somehow, and I fancied that Carver’s glare was successfully burning holes in my clothing. “You praised me for quick thinking once, when I threw that lightning bottle at you. This was totally the same thing.”

“On a much larger scale,” he said, his voice alarmingly steady, the kind of steady that implied it was on the verge of transforming into a bellow at any moment. “You unleashed the sun. The collateral damage you could have caused would have been astounding. Sterling is barely alive.”

“He’s fine,” I said, totally unsure of myself even as I spoke the words. “Plus ‘alive’ is probably not the right word.”

Carver’s glower could have ripped my soul from my body.

“Okay, bad joke, sorry. I didn’t hurt Sterling on purpose, okay? I did what I could to help the team. Bastion was the one who did a number on him.”

“Who?”

“The guy who dropped a car on Sterling. The guy you were dueling with.”

“Yes. The boy from the Lorica. That was my primary concern. Do you think that a signal that enormous would not have attracted the entire organization’s interest?”

My blood went cold. I genuinely hadn’t thought of that. A small, self-satisfied grin curled up in the corner of Carver’s mouth. It went away as quickly as it appeared, his features reverting to rage as he slammed a fist onto his desk.

“If you didn’t have it before, you now have their fullest attention, Dustin. And that of the sun goddess as well.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault. All I did was throw the mirror. Bastion was the one who smashed it. Let him deal with her getting pissed off.”

Carver sniffed and lifted his nose. “One hopes that Amaterasu will be as understanding as you expect. Somehow I have my doubts.” He narrowed his eyes as he peered down at me, then he shook his head and sighed. “Dustin. This is precisely why I wanted you to develop your talents. If you had alternative methods of attacking this Bastion boy, you wouldn’t have had to resort to such – explosive measures.”

“Magic is hard as shit. Maybe I’ll never be able to make fire. Maybe I’m just dumb, okay?”

“That has been established. Repeatedly.”

“Cut me some slack. I’ve lived twenty-four years of my life not knowing magic existed. And I’ve got less than twenty-four hours to figure shit out.” I folded my hands together and sighed. “That’s why I was so impulsive, okay? We needed to end that fight and get the hell out of there. We need to give the Codex to Mrs. Boules.” I stared at my palms, at the brand on my wrist, my voice softening against my will. “I don’t want to die.”

Carver watched me in silence for a moment. “I understand,” he said, his expression still even, but his tone gentle. “We will broker the exchange of the Asher boy before midnight comes. And then, I promise you, I will come to see Dionysus with you myself if that’s what it takes to lift his curse.” He placed his hand on the back of mine. I wasn’t sure if I was more surprised by the warmth of his touch, or the unexpected warmth of his gesture. “You’re going to live.”

“Okay,” I said, a tiny stream of relief beginning to trickle back into my chest. “Okay.” I fiddled with my thumbs. “There’s something else, though. Something Amaterasu mentioned that I haven’t told you. She said something about my parentage, how I’ve always been tied to the Eldest.”

“Parentage? I admit, I’m not entirely sure what she meant by that. Perhaps there was magic in your lineage after all. I wonder.” He stroked his beard, his eyes going distant. “This might be something that merits discussion with your father.”

“Yeah. About that.”

“I always keep my word, Dustin. When this is all over, I will return my focus to tracking him down.” He leaned back into his seat, steepling his fingers. “And then we will redouble our efforts to teach you the art of flame. I swear I’m going to see you create a fireball if it kills you.”

“I think you phrased that incorrectly.”

“You heard me. Go. Rest for now. Gil should be getting in touch with our contact. I need all of you to be fresh and ready for when we bring Asher to our client.”

I moved to rise from my chair, then stopped. “We’re – we’re not actually handing him over to Enrietta Boules, are we?”

“I would prefer not to. The boy is a human being, after all, not some bargaining chip. This changes everything. I presume that he will be required to perform some magical service for the woman. After that he should be free to decide his own fate.”

That made me feel better, if only a little. Carver was right. The situation would have been different if the Codex really had been an artifact, but to trade away a human being? It just wasn’t right. I figured I should at least check on our guest, so I swung by the pantry since Rosa mentioned something about whipping up lunch.

The table was piled with dishes and serving bowls, but it looked like people had already eaten. I took a whiff of whatever had been prepared – oh God, adobo, and lots of it – and made a mental note to come back to stuff my face with what was indeed the finest Filipino food this side of the Meathook.

I made my way to our quarters, down the hallway where each of our bedrooms was situated. Gil’s door was shut. Sterling’s was, oddly, open, which rarely ever happened. I peeped in, finding Mama Rosa tending to him, holding up a tupperware of steaming, freshly microwaved pig’s blood with a straw sticking out of it.

On the bed – I was slightly disappointed to discover that Sterling didn’t sleep in a coffin as I’d imagined – sat a vaguely humanoid shape wrapped in bandages. It looked like our resident vampire had gone mummy for a bit.