“You’re wasting time with that lot,” Mal said in a low voice. “Let me help you find your family. The trail will be cold before anyone can get here.”
Samantha’s voice cut in before Clayton could respond. “Marshall said if he focuses, he can vaguely sense his shields, but he’ll need to come to the dock to learn anything more. I want you to stay put and wait for Fire to get there.”
Clayton glared at his feet so he wouldn’t hurt Fzzt’s feelings by glaring at it. He loved Samantha, but he was getting sick of how much she treated him like a child who needed protecting. Even from across the ocean, his mother’s influence on others was strong.
In his mum’s eyes, her precious little orphan was utterly incapable of taking care of himself, so it was her job to make sure nothing more than a strong breeze could affect him. The fact that his affliction made it impossible for her to do said jobwas a point of contention between them since she’d discovered him twenty-two years ago in Epping Forest.
This meant that she constantly harassed everyone around him into making sure he was safe, and Samantha was no exception.
Clayton bit the inside of his cheek, because this wasn’t about him. It was about the crazy, patchwork family he’d found for himself. He’d swallow his pride, his words, and his entire fucking boat if he had to in order to get them back.
Samantha must have sensed his hesitation in his silence, because she added, “It’s going to be okay, Clayton. The spell on Merry’s doll is only on code yellow. She’s not in immediate danger, so that means Marshall’s shields are keeping everyone safe. We have time.”
Clayton took a deep breath and said, “Fine. We’ll be here.”
“We will?” The simple phrase from Mal held a mountain of meaning. Irritation, incredulity, and insult were hovering at the top of the mountain.
Clayton shot a sideways glance at Mal and was unsurprised at discovering the undisguised stink-eye the man was aiming at Fzzt, so he kicked him in the shin. “Don’t blame Fzzt for your emotions. You’ll scare it.”
Mal huffed and rolled his eyes, but stopped glaring at Fzzt. “We don’t need to wait for your…friends.” The word was dropped like a cat turd in a litter box.
“They’re not my friends. They’re the Guard's highest-ranked team, and I’m lucky to have their help. Their leader, Marshall, is predicted to be the next praetor, and if he can’t find my family, they can’t be found.”
Marshall would get them back. He’d probably do it so quickly that Clayton wouldn’t have a chance to work himself into an anxious ball of stress.
Marshall’s shields still existed. Princess Stinky was only on code yellow. That meant the boat had been unbreached. Clayton’s family was safe.
His mind flashed to Merry’s and Tommy’s faces, pinched with terror the last time they’d been kidnapped, and his stomach clenched painfully. He’d promised they’d be safe. He’d promised them, and they’d been snatched right out from underneath him without so much as a hiccup.
No. Clayton didn’t need to spiral into the dark place. Marshall would arrive soon and fix everything.
“I can’t find them,” Marshall admitted sourly after ten achingly long minutes of meditation.
“Wha-what?”
It had only taken a few minutes for Marshall to arrive at the dock with Jack in tow, though Clayton was certain he’d aged several years in the interim.
The moment they showed up, Mal was tense and on guard. Clayton wasn’t surprised. Jack had been more than a bit dramatic with his entrance. He was out of breath, and Marshall had trailed behind him, equally out of breath and seemingly confused by Jack’s excitement.
Because there was no doubt that Jack was absolutely chuffed to be there. The second he laid eyes on Mal, his rainbow eyes shimmered with some unidentifiable emotion along with a hint of smugness. Then Marshall had caught up, and Jack threw an arm around his captain’s shoulders and pulled him close.
“Clayton, introduce your prickly friend to us.” Jack kept an arm around Marshall’s shoulders, but his captain didn’t shrug him off.
Clayton was long used to their familiarity. Marshall was even more touch-shy than most dreamwalkers, but around Jack, it was as if that boundary didn’t exist, and the larger man took advantage of the privilege every chance he got.
“Guardian Jack, Guardian Marshall,” Clayton began, as prim and proper as he’d been taught. “This is my… associate, Mal. He helped me rescue the children six weeks ago.”
Mal snorted at the term associate and gave Clayton a look that he interpreted to mean,is that what we’re calling this?
Clayton glared at him haughtily and returned the look with what he hoped conveyed,I’m certainly not telling them you’re my fuck buddy.
Mal sneered and stormed off to pace around the slip that usually housed Clayton’s boat.
Marshall’s eyebrows knitted together as he watched Mal go, and a light of dawning understanding appeared in his eyes before vanishing with a shimmer of rainbow essence.
Clayton’s attention flicked to Jack in alarm before a wave of dizziness washed over him.
What had they been doing?
