Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (93 page)

“Were there?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, there were,” I answered coyly. “But
they attacked us with deadly force first and I have a number of
witnesses to that effect should that ever come before a court. We
were merely protecting ourselves. But I really don’t think it’ll
ever come to that, will it, Inspector?”

“Considering the angels on your shoulder,
kid,” Mercer said, his cold, brown eyes staring at me like I just
shot his dog. He used ‘kid’ on purpose, too, trying to get a rise
out of me. “I truly doubt it.”

“He’s not lying, Mercer,” Trelaine growled. I
think that’s all the man did was mutter and growl. “They were the
ones hunting. They attacked first. Self-defense, all the way.”

Mercer stared at him for a moment, then back
to me. “How long have you two been acquainted?” he asked, stressing
the first syllable of acquainted.

Raising my eyebrows, I looked at Trelaine
questioningly. “What, about half an hour? Didn’t know his name
until you said it. Seemed to me he was protecting Dillon from the
people who were after us. It just seemed right to me that he and
his men got to see from what he was protecting Dillon, so I took
them along with us.”

Dillon turned to Trelaine, almost gawking at
him. “Don’t read too much into it,” Trelaine muttered without
turning. “I won’t let some paramilitary goons destroy my bolt
holes. When I want to dance, I want to dance in peace.”

“Is this germane to why you need to see me,
Inspector?” I asked. “I’d like to go home soon. It’s been a long
day.” That ticked him off some, being pulled off the trail he
wanted to follow again, but it had been a long day and I was
getting tired.

“And just where is home for you, kid?” he
asked.

If he wanted to be difficult, so could I. I
sent him back downstairs. “He’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said,
then finished off my water. Everyone else stood up and stretched,
moving around for a moment. Ferrin raided Dillon’s refrigerator for
more beers, handing one to Trelaine. Mercer appeared in the
elevator five minutes later with his uniform in tow.

“Very funny,” he said, irritated. I didn’t
care.

“You called me a kid, Inspector Mercer,” I
responded nonchalantly, staring out the window. “My interest
lagged. It’s hormonal at my age. Just get to why you’re here.”

“I was sent to deliver a message,” he said,
cringing. “I’m not in the habit of running after little snot-nosed
rich kids who’ve had a fight with daddy and run away from home. I
have more important things to do with my time. Even when those
snot-nosed kids are magicians with enough latent power to level
this building. Now, go home, make peace with daddy, and get out of
my hair.” He spun on his heel and headed back to the elevator the
uniform was holding open.

“Wait a moment, Inspector,” I said, standing
up. “You have misinterpreted the message somewhere. My father has
been missing for close to a year and my mother was comatose this
morning. I couldn’t be having a fight with either of them. Start
over. Who is the message from?”

“Your mother is comatose and you’re here
partying?” he asked, glaring at me.

Oh, no, he did not.

I stormed up, seriously pissed and
subconsciously calling for all five weapons. In short, I armored
up. Everyone but Ferrin jumped back a few feet at the sight of me.
Picking up the coffee table one-handed, I tossed it out of my way
as I stomped through Dillon’s living room, over or through
everything that was in my way, to the elevator. I grabbed Mercer by
his jacket and slammed him against the wall, cracking the mirrored
glass and, I think, something in Mercer’s back.

“You are an ass,” I said loudly. “You are
officious and arrogant and rude and I am done dealing with it.
You’ve made several assumptions about me that are wrong. While I
generally don’t care what people think of me, if you insult me one
more time, I may not be able to control my temper.” I dropped him
to the floor and he fell on his ass in a heap on the floor. “Do I
make myself clear to you?” He gulped and nodded emphatically.
“Good.” I turned sharply and went back to the table I overturned.
Ferrin was righting it as I came up. I helped straighten it and
faced Dillon.

“Dillon, I sorry. I have lost my temper twice
now. I should have more consideration in your home,” I said with my
hands spread out and bowed forward slightly as apologetically as I
thought possible.

“That’s okay, Seth. I… understand,” Dillon
said slowly. He was behind the two-seat sofa now, leaning back into
Trelaine, who had a hand on his shoulder. “You look so different.”
They were both in awe of me. That confused me especially since
Trelaine had seen me do more than toss a cop against a wall.

“Is that the Night?” asked Trelaine barely
above whisper.

Oh. I sorta remember doing that, armoring.
“Yes, sir. Sorry ‘bout that,” I said, looking down and detaching
the sheathed rapier from my belt as I dissolved the armor and sent
the rest back apologetically. “I hadn’t realized I’d done that.
Would you care to see it? Just don’t actually touch the blade
itself. The stories of its powers are not exaggerated and I can
only protect you so far.”

Trelaine accepted the Night from me across
the sofa on his open palms and pulled it carefully closer to him.
Dillon stepped back but was a little more at ease now that the
green and black armor was gone. He was still leery of the ebony and
silver scabbard. With cause, I admit.

“Scary little bugger, ain’t he?” I heard
Ferrin say to the cops behind me. He passed by them on his way to
raid Dillon’s kitchen refrigerator again. He came back a moment
later with two more beers, another water for me, and a shot glass
with some brown liquor for Dillon.

“Sergeant, you can put your weapon away,” I
said, still watching Trelaine carefully. “You’ll find it no longer
works.” He had been pointing something vaguely reminiscent of a gun
at me since I’d shoved Mercer against the wall. My guess would be a
taser, one of those with the shooting electrodes. I sat down on the
couch again.

“Dillon, did I come here to party?” I asked,
trying more to his attention away from the Sword than actually get
the question answered.

“No, not at all,” he answered. And he was
smart enough not to elaborate, though I wasn’t sure that our
transaction was in anyway illegal. No reason to poke the bear.

“Mr. Trelaine, did you at any time see me
‘partying’?” I asked. Trelaine’s attention never left the Night but
he answered.

“No, Mr. McClure, you were definitely not
having a good time. That was work the two of you did, plain and
simple,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through the room.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” I said calmly. “That
should dispel that particular misconception, Inspector. So let’s
get back to my question. From who was this message?”

“It came to me directly from Lord Bishop,”
Mercer said, sufficiently humbled. Maybe scared out of his mind is
a better phrase. “Earlier today, Bishop showed up in our offices
and demanded that we all be on the lookout for you. He said that we
were to ask that you return to your family, then report any
sightings directly to his office.”

“That seems to be quite a few steps away from
‘snot-nosed kid fighting with daddy,’ Inspector,” I said. “Surely,
Bishop gave you some cause to feel that way.”

He started to say something, then thought
better of it. “Lord Bishop could have ticked off Ghandi.”

“Really?” I asked, looking at Ferrin slyly.
“Then I guess I shouldn’t have dropped that school on him like
that.”

“That was Bishop?” Ferrin snickered as he
disseminated his bounty from the kitchen. Dillon emptied his glass
immediately, grabbing the back of the sofa as the liquor went down
and shaking his head hard and gasping for breath. It was a very big
swallow. He took a swig from Trelaine’s beer before giving it to
him.

Trelaine pulled the Sword slowly out of the
sheath about six inches, marveling at the intricate etchings on the
ebony blade. I paid close attention to him—didn’t want him drawn in
below the surface to the magic of the rapier, to where I couldn’t
pull him back. I was ready to snap the scabbard back into place in
a split second.

“You dropped a school on him?” asked the
detective cautiously.

“Figure of speech, Inspector, nothing to
worry about,” I said dismissively. “He wanted something I had and
when I gave it to him, he couldn’t handle it. Whined about it for
days.” Ferrin snickered again. “And how did you come here,
Inspector?”

“We got a tip from a taxi driver,” Mercer
said. “Not too often you see two men with no aura whatsoever. He
called me and I had him stick around till I could get there. You
left in a private car for here before I could get there. He
followed, called us, and here we are. Since I can see your
companions, I presume the other gentleman is no longer with
us.”

“Mr. Trelaine,” I called turning to him. He
was sinking into the aura of the Night. I closed the sheath and
called it back to me, sending it home the moment it touched my left
hand. Trelaine was dazed and it took him a few seconds to realize
I’d taken the rapier from him. He looked embarrassed when he came
out of the magically-induced haze. “It is an old and powerful
magic. There are few that have touched it and survived. There is no
shame in being caught up in its aura.” I turned back to Mercer. “If
by ‘no longer with us,’ you mean not physically here, yes. He’s not
here right now. Was there anything else to this message?”

“No, not really, just go home, you’re
needed,” Mercer said.

“Then what’s wrong with calling me,” I
muttered, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. Checking the
display, I was getting signal and no missed calls. I pulled up the
contact list and called Peter.

He answered on the second ring. “I shouldn’t
even talk to you.” He was mad.

“That’s not an apology. Should I hang up
now?” I was mad now, too. Okay, still.

“No. What were those pictures about?” he
asked.

“Need to talk about that a little later.
Right now, I have the London police in front of me saying that
Bishop has put an APB out on me. Do you know why?” I asked.

“Yes, they’ve called a meeting,” he said. “A
war council, I suppose, at some super secret site. Happened after I
left. Felix and Gordon have gone, so have Kieran and Ethan.”

“Where are the boys?”

“Sitting on my bed while John and Enid try to
fix the hole in the wards that you punched when you dropped me
off,” he said somewhat sarcastically. I cringed at the idea that
I’d endangered them just because I got angry with Peter. That was
totally unfair to them and wrong. Just plain wrong.

“Tell them to stop. I’ll be there in a minute
to see what I can do, then we’ll go after Kieran and Ethan.
Okay?”

“Did you get Mike?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ll bring him with me,” I said.

“Okay.” He disconnected.

“Inspector Mercer, I’ll be back in a moment.
Please wait for me,” I said to the cop. Ferrin was already
beginning to stand up when I wrapped portals around both of us and
jumped us to my room at the Cahill’s manor house.

I reached out to the wards, insinuating
myself around the hole I’d created and stopping the jolt I just
caused from reaching John. He held the wards at that moment. I
could feel Enid at the edges of the property, watching for
incursions while John worked. They meshed well together from their
years of contact. It took John about four seconds to realize I was
there as I mended to hole. Taking Bishop’s complaints to mind, I
spread out slowly throughout all the wards on the property, taking
a secondary role to John and Enid. I didn’t want control; I just
wanted to make their jobs easier.

The Stone helped me strengthen their wards,
mostly by shifting and shoring the foundations of what was already
there. I repaired the fortifications that had slipped with time and
aligned those designed for fortifications. It was like tweaking a
race car engine to get another five miles an hour—not a great
difference, but a difference nonetheless. And the control wasn’t
over the top, like at Dunstan’s.

I pulled out of the wards in time to see Ian
vault into the air, crashing into Ferrin. They fell into my bed
laughing. Marty and Peter were a few steps behind. Peter still
wasn’t happy.

“Mike, are you staying?” I asked. “We’ve got
to go find Kieran and Ethan. It wouldn’t hurt for you to stay and
help here, though.” And stay as far out of harm’s way as
possible.

“No, I’ll go,” he said. Hugging his brother,
he said softly, “I need to go help, Yonnie. These arseholes came
close to getting you and I can’t have that, now can I?”

“Just make sure you come back!” Ian said
sternly. “I’m out of underwear.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” I said. I’d spent the
day shopping after all. I reached into the Pacthome and started
pulling out the bags I stashed there earlier. It took me about five
minutes to sort through the bags, but Ian was virtually buried in
textiles for Ferrin and him by the time I was done. There were
several large piles on the bed and dresser and Marty was holding
the necklace for his mother. When I stopped, their mouths were
hanging open, mostly at the whirling dervish I’d been unpacking the
bags.

“Hmm. I guess I was busy today,” I said
looking over the room. “Y’all ready?”

Without waiting for an answer, I pushed into
the wards again and tapped lightly on the section that I’d
demolished earlier. John was still in control, but now Enid was
floating throughout the whole ward instead of just at the
periphery. She seemed to be enjoying herself, too. John coalesced
an astral image in the ward near the hole I was trying to create. I
obliged and formed one beside him. I didn’t know I could do
that.

“She hasn’t been able to do that for years,”
he said. Well, not really ‘said,’ more like projected at me and I
received it, but the speech metaphor worked.