“Hey, Jake.”He shifted a little but didn’t want to let her slide free.Little brother got the girl off his shoulder, and that was when Erik finally saw thelirai’s face.She lolled, not so much deadweight now but perhaps nearing consciousness, hair falling free in a long sheaf of tangled waves and outright curls.The humidity probably had something to do with that.
Strong nose, good cheekbones, her underlip a little fuller than the top one, charcoal eyebrows and long eyelashes.Vivid bruising crawled up her face, those matted lashes fluttering as she tried to regain consciousness, and Erik was once more aware of how filthy he was.Her pashmina was never going to be the same, but at least it had kept her a little warmer.
Ignatius’s narrow hand hovered over her closed eyes.The great ring on his left third finger glinted, a scintillant of the Flame trapped by a Dreamer’s will in heavy, glassy hematite.The signet was a gift from anotherlirai, one with plenty of seals and a suite of their own, sending a Father out to hold a frontier temple.
“Be at peace, Dreamer,” Ignatius said, softly, and the woman was deadweight again.“There lieth a blessing.”
“So it is,” Erik murmured; Jake’s ritual response came a half-second later, overtaking Erik’s and finishing first, too.As usual.
“We will need to make arrangements.”The Father of their trio glanced at Erik.“Take her to the smallerliraim.Jacob, come with me.”
“Yessir.”Jake unloaded her into Erik’s arms with a wink.“Gonna make our Snow White nice and comfortable.Maybe she’ll sing to the birds when she wakes up.”
“Unlikely.”But Father’s mouth twitched slightly, as if he found the image amusing.Which meant the Younger was doing his job, reminding other Sons what it was like to be human.“Good work, lads.We might survive this yet.”
That’d be nice.Frontier temples had much higher casualty rates, since they didn’t have aliraior two inside to remind the Sons of what they fought for.This city was too large for a mere trio to keep clean of garden-variety predators and the Mad God’s faithful monsters.
But they tried.
Erikstillcouldn’t salute, but Ignatius didn’t expect him to, for once.Instead, the closest thing to a real parent Jake and Erik now had set off to the left, heading for his study, and Jake made a face before following, boots leaving dark streaks on the foyer’s slate tile.Father wasn’t going to be happy about that, but Erik wasn’t going to try to ameliorate that shit as an Elder should.Not right now.
Instead, he looked at the woman’s slack, bruised face.She was going to have a hard time with this, snatched from a relatively normal life and thrust into an entirely new, nightmarish world.
The fact that her new protectors would be able to at least visit a bigger temple for the first time in decades was beside the point, and the squeamish gratefulness Erik was doing his best not to feel at the prospect was yet another sign that he wasn’t a good person.
Then again, the good didn’t survive a mad god’s mark or the Sons’ training.You had to be a bastard to fight the nightmares, from the Dreaming or otherwise.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered, though she couldn’t possibly hear him.“Let’s get you a little more comfortable,lirai.I’ll take care of your face.Must hurt.”
He knew, miserably, that she was going to hate him.Why bother fighting that particular battle, among all the rest?
Still, as he carried her up the stairs—almost grateful for enhanced musculature granted by the alien god whispering at the bottom of every Son’s brain, because hauling around an adult’s deadweight was no joke—he exhaled harshly, and the familiar slight tingle of cleaning-sorcery crested over them both.
Being a Son had some benefits.
The power, not so incidentally, would add to the healing he’d poured into her body earlier to make sure she didn’t have any critical injuries.
By the time he reached the second floor, the bruising on her face and ribs was going down.He couldfeelit, high-pitched waves of physical misery blunted, receding.She’d still feel like shit when she woke up, but nothing was broken and she wouldn’t have any visible hematomas.
Just the aches.
She was going to hate all of them except for maybe Jake, and after she was delivered safely to a bigger temple Erik would no doubt be reassigned to another satellite, fighting yet another series of losing battles until he died with his guts torn out in some filthy hole or alley like the one they’d found her in.
Still, another Dreamer would help hold back the tide.Maybe Ignatius’s higher-ups would even grant their trio a break for finding their first potential.
Finally, after all this time.
The woman’s breathing was soft, scarcely detectable even with heightened senses, but her pulse was strong and sure.Whatever else she’d been born as, she waslirai, and once burnished by the Flame her very presence would block the Mad God’s persistent cajoling whisper even more.Not to mention providing waves of incandescent force for Sons to beat back the monsters, expanding safe zones and making their long-ago victory fractionally deeper.
Not total, of course.But every potential rescued and Flame-triggered bought them a little more time.
And every Son, from the Fathers to the youngest, was well aware that was well worth fighting for.
Even if they were all damned.
Get to Work
At first Livthought she simply had a massive, truly world-ending hangover.Which wasn’t entirely out of the question after a bad date, but still, it… bothered her a bit.She didn’t remember meeting the girls, or even getting home and putting out a Friday night drinking call.God as her witness, she’d intended to stop only for a couple consolatory shots and a cup of coffee at Bostwick’s if one of her friends was there, before going home and diving into a carton of pistachio ice cream.How had she been talked into anything else?
