She bends down and runs her fingers through the grass, practically humming her pleasure. Nearly an hour later she abruptly stops, changes course, and starts sprinting. Cursing, Dorian and I follow, nearly crashing into her back when we clear a thicket of overgrown foliage.
“That doesn’t look healthy” Dorian starts to get a closer look, but Cambria grabs his wrist to stop him, looking nervous.
Where there’s usually a charred ring scattered with forget-me-nots and mushrooms, this is just...desolate. The scorched ring is at least ten times wider and the flowers are wilted. There’s a green sort of moss inside instead of grass, and it sets off at least a dozen different red flags.
“It’s not,” she confirms, voice strong and sure. “This one’s rotted from lack of use.”
I turn to her in confusion. “That’s a thing?”
She nods, already turning to leave. “Like anything, it can be forgotten,” she whispers, thoughts of the shadow court no doubt on her mind. “Nature reclaims everything eventually; we’ll just need to find a new one.”
Dejected and disappointed, we start heading back to the car. At this rate, we’re going to have to risk using our usual ring to cross and hope for the best. In our case, the best is just not getting killed, and I’d like the bar to be a little higher than that.
“What would happen if we used it?” Dorian asks as we pick our way out of the dense underbrush.
She grimaces. “It’ll spit you out somewhere random. Trust me, I made that mistake once, and it’s not a smooth transition. It’s actually how I found this city in the first place, but it’s painful to cross through a defective portal. Ten out of ten would not recommend.”
I reach out and steal her hand, glad she’s beginning to perk up. There’s still a somber air clinging to her, but she’s trying. And really, isn’t that all I can ask for? I don’t expect her to be skipping around while people are hunting her, but I’m a selfish bastard; I want the woman I love to be happy as much as possible. It helps ease my guilt that we unintentionally bound ourselves to her.
We start driving home, Cambria deflating a bit more the longer we sit in silence. I know we need to find another way to cross over, but taking care of each other is just as important. We can fight our way to the ring if we have to one more time, but the farther we let her fall, the harder it will be to get her back up.
I head towards the rougher side of town, parking and locking the car as the other two climb out in confusion. “What are we doing here?” Dorian eyes The Landing sign suspiciously, that wariness bleeding into his tone.
From out here, you would assume it’s just another dive bar, but it’s so much more. And right now, I think it’s exactly where we need to be. Knowing how Cambria likes to slip into personas and don roles to forget herself, even if just for a little while, I rummage around in the trunk until I find a flannel button up, helping her into it. She rolls up the sleeves and leaves the top few buttons undone, furrowing her brow, but not questioning me yet.
“So, Miss Lark, care to make a wager?”
Her silver eyes light up, and I refuse to feel guilty about exploiting her nature. I’ve watched her for weeks, and it’s clear that she thrives on chaos; she just lost her hold as its master. Someone needs to help her find the reins again, to guide her into taking back that control instead of being consumed and overwhelmed by it. So I’ll be an asshole if I have to, because taking it easy hasn’t done anyone any favors. I’ll play on her weaknesses if it means reminding her that she’s a badass that has survived so much and it will take more than the latest revelations to break her.
She licks her lips. “Terms?”
I scratch the dark scruff on my jaw. “Loser has to do a strip tease for the other.”
She bursts out laughing. “But you have to do it in the living room after dinner for everyone. What’s the challenge?”
I tsk my tongue, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “If you’re that sure I’ll lose, does it matter? Wouldn’t you like a nice surprise for once?” She shivers against me and I pull back grinning, waiting for her answer.
She narrows her eyes, sizing me up, before extending her hand. “You, Atlas Donovan, have got yourself a deal.”
Now that I know to look for it, I catch the way her eyes flash as the agreement settles into place, binding her to it. Thank fuck she has to accept the terms for it to take hold, but if she’s not hypervigilant of the wording, she could end up royally screwed over.
We head inside and she instantly bursts out a thrilled whoop, looking like the girl I first met that robbed my ass. Between the combination of the thrill she gets from taking the risk to bind herself to a bet and the promise of violence, her color has completely returned. I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it sooner.
She skips to the bar, getting drinks for all of us while Dorian and I handle signing up for a single lane to share. The target is at the far end, each row separated by thick, chained walls like a cage, as well as a solid one behind us.
I have to do a double take as Cambria carefully sets all of our drinks on the table, along with a plate. “Where did you even get pie?”
She blinks up at me, stealing a quick bite before coming to join us. “Raquel over at the bar understands the importance of the finer things in life. Weapons, booze, and sweets. Besides; who doesn’t like pie?”
“I’m not a huge fan, honestly.”
You’d think I’d told her the Easter Bunny wasn’t real.
“It’s like I don’t even know you. Next you’re going to tell me you don’t appreciate classic cars.” She steals another bite and a swig of her drink as I roll my eyes and we join Dorian.
A burly man hands him the axe and directs us to a lane, going over the rules. “We don’t fuck around here; one strike is all you get before you’re kicked out.”
Dorian lines himself up, triple checking no one is behind him in case he loses his grip, and throws it with all of his might. It sinks nearly dead center and I do a double take, sharing a surprised look with Cambria.
