Adamant (24 page)

Someone who’d defend me to the end of the Multiverse.

That thought sobered me up pretty fast.

Despite the buzz of the TV and Kay’s constant pacing about—seriously, did he ever sit
still?—
I fell asleep the instant I lay back on the pillow.

***

I awoke with a gasp. I’d been dreaming of fighting the dreyverns again, unable to stop the knife flying out and striking Nell. Disoriented, I looked around the darkened room. Kay sat opposite me, back to the wall, eyes closed.

“What in the world are you doing?” I asked. He couldn’t possibly be asleep like that.

One eye half-opened. “Meditating.”

“As opposed to sleeping?”

“I’m an incurable insomniac.” Both eyes opened this time. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You talk in your sleep.”

I flushed. “Oh, God.” I pulled the covers over my head, and he laughed softly.

“You speak Karthonic?”

“Yeah… was I speaking that?” I was about to ask how he recognised it, but he probably knew twice as many offworld languages as I did. Academy graduate.

“Kind of. Didn’t make much sense. Who taught you, anyway?” He hesitated. “This is off record. No one’s gonna come in here and arrest you.”

You know what? I believed him. I let the covers drop from my face. “My foster brother, Jeth. He was originally from Karthos. He wanted to learn from a tutor. I picked up a few phrases.”

“What about your other foster brother? Which world’s he from?”

“Alber’s from Enzar too. But mageblood.” I paused. “What about you? Any siblings?”

A shake of the head. “Just me.”

“Is it not… lonely here on your own?” Now I was definitely prying.

He shrugged. “Not really. I’ve only owned this place a few days, and I’ve been at Central or in the Passages most of that time. Ambassadors don’t really settle on one world, anyway.”

“What about… your parents?”

His eyes narrowed, barely perceptibly. “Dead or otherwise absent.”

I knew it was rude to keep asking questions. “Sorry,” I said. “I was just curious. I don’t know what happened to my real parents. I never met them. But Royals aren’t exactly known for being friendly. They probably started the war in the first place.” I sighed. “It’s a mess.”

“Really?” He paused for an instant. “So who raised you, then?”

“Nell.”

“She kicked Aric’s ass. I wish I’d seen.”

“Me, too,” I said, smiling despite myself. “So… you went to the Academy.”

“Yeah. Graduated nearly two weeks ago.”

How old did that make him, then? A couple of years older than me at most. But he acted older. Not that I was a shining example of maturity, but still. Then again, half the people from my year at school were married and had houses and kids, and the other half spent most of the time drunk and passed out in their own gardens. I’d never really had anyone my age I could relate to, save for my brothers. Even the people who thought the idea of travelling to another universe was awesome would ultimately pick Earth, the familiar, in the end.

Even Nell. I’d lived in a literal shelter all my life, for all the excitement.

“The Academy,” I said. “Was that like pre-Alliance training?”

“Sort of. You don’t have to go there to get a job at the Alliance, but it lets you skip most of training because you already have the experience. But most people go through an apprenticeship instead. Are you at university, or working?”

“Uh. Neither, at the moment. I used to help Nell at the shelter. Now…” I’d no idea. What would happen to the shelters now?

“I’ll talk to the council,” he said. “The Alliance could use the help, if New York Central opens that Passage to the shelter over there.”

“You’re… really going to do that.”

“Of course.”

I shook my head. It still seemed so surreal. For all I knew, I was dreaming now. I absently glanced about the room. “I still don’t get it, you know that?”

“You don’t have to,” he said.

No. Except… now, I kind of wanted to. Pity magic didn’t extend to reading minds.

“If I were you, I’d consider joining the Alliance,” he said. “You’d still get to help people, only in a legal way. And Ambassadors get free run of the Multiverse.”

“Only if I can still help people from Enzar,” I said. “Ambassadors—that’s what you want to do, right?”

He inclined his head.

“All right. Well, I know I grew up here, but Enzar is my homeworld, and so many people have died. If I can help people get away from that place, I will.”

“Enzar,” he said. “The Alliance has kept that one under wraps, which is quite unusual given the scope of the war. I was planning to check their archives in the morning. The connection to bloodrock—it seems too odd a coincidence.”

“Yeah, it does. You can never be too careful with magic.”

“Nell said that, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“I guessed. Judging by what you did with magic, I don’t think safety’s first on your list.”

I fully sat up, arms folded. “Oh, you’re back to lecturing me again? Believe it or not, I know magic’s dangerous. I know what I’m doing.”

“Look, I’m not trying to lecture you… okay, maybe a bit. At the Academy, there was an incident. Several people got hurt because of magic. Nearly died.”

“Ah.” I figured he’d been involved. But the careful blankness on his face could have been the calm before a storm, and as curious as I might be, I didn’t want to push further.

Is he a magic-wielder?
There was no way to tell from looking at someone, not if they were from Earth. Though trying to read Kay Walker was an impossibility. The only time I’d got a real reaction from him had been when…

Ah, crap. I shook my head, annoyed at the guilt rising. “I’m sorry I yelled at you before,” I said. “What I said was… awful. I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, cutting me off. “Really.”

The guilt didn’t go away. I’d been desperate enough not to care what I said, just to hurt the nearest person, and it happened to be him. And instead of arresting me again, he’d risked his job and helped me. However surreal it seemed, if he’d really intended to help Enzar…
I don’t lie,
he’d said, and then handed me proof about that shelter. As for the rest? It might be crazy, but it felt like he’d told the truth. Which made me even more of a bitch.

“Dammit,” I muttered. “Why did you have to turn out to be
nice?”
And why couldn’t I keep my stupid mouth shut?

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just it was easier to hate the Alliance and blame you for all the crap in my life. Now I don’t know who to blame. And I feel like the world’s biggest idiot.”

“You’re welcome to blame me if it makes it easier,” he said lightly.

“Hmm. Nah, I think I’ll blame the Multiverse in general.”

“Get some sleep.” His mouth curled into a faint smile. But a genuine one.

Yeah. Good idea. No point in thinking about what I couldn’t control. I lay back down, heaviness weighing on my eyelids. Tilting my head, I saw him shift slightly. In fact, now I looked closer, I could tell he was only feigning casualness, and his eyes were open, alert. He sat at a slight angle, so he could see the door. Like a trained soldier. Keeping an eye out? Did he expect an attack?

My eyes ached too much to keep open any longer, and the world faded away.

***

My eyes flickered open to the sight of Kay walking past the door, shirtless. I sat bolt upright.

“Holy hell.”

“What?” He smirked. “Like what you see?”

“What the—what the hell happened to you?”

Scars crisscrossed the entire left side of his body—long, deep scars like the one on his left arm, like claw-marks. I gripped the bed convulsively. I couldn’t even imagine the pain.

“I had a disagreement with a wyvern,” he said, absently running his right hand over the mark on his left arm.

“How are you still alive?”

“Lucky.” He said this in an ironic tone.

“You’re insane.” I shook my head. “You’re actually insane. You know that?”

“I did wonder.” He went into the bathroom, leaving me staring. I rubbed my eyes. Damn. Here I was, getting distracted again. It was morning now. I had to get my head together.

Today was our last chance.

KAY

“Why bother driving in London?” asked Ada.

“I hate public transport,” I said, amused at her incredulity, as we waited at a red light. She perched on the edge of her seat, short red hair still slightly tousled though she’d dragged a brush through it. She wore black, her own approximation of guard uniform complete with daggers sheathed in those famous boots of hers. Dangerous, and in my book, that equalled “extremely attractive”. And the reflection of her low-cut long-sleeved top in the wing mirror didn’t help. I hadn’t counted on her being so bloody distracting now her defences were lowered around me.

“That figures,” she muttered. “People are too slow, right?”

Despite everything, a smile crept onto my face. She was observant, I gave her that. And fearless. If not for the circumstances, last night could have gone very differently. And if I wasn’t at least fifty per cent sure she still didn’t like me.

That’s enough, Kay. Concentrate.

Ada picked at a loose thread on her coat as the towering shadow of Central Headquarters came into view. “You’re
sure
they won’t just lock me up again? Because I’m placing a hell of a lot of faith in you at the moment. If you’re lying, I’m gonna drop-kick you into next week.”

“Honestly, the worst that can happen is that we
both
get put on trial,” I said, only half paying attention. My communicator kept buzzing. The morning guard had sent an alert that all novices were to arrive clad in guard uniform ready for another search of the Passages. I wore the uniform, but no weapons, and right now, even the ordinary streets of London seemed suspect. No one had a clue what was happening. Even in Central, really. I sure as hell hadn’t told anyone I had the prisoner at my freaking
apartment.
Well, what was I supposed to do? It was plain obvious she was a victim of circumstance, lawbreaker or not, and the same went for her family. She probably thought I’d just wanted to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t skive today’s meeting, and maybe the rational part of me had. But like I’d said, she’d been attacked once already. Everything—the killings, the attacks, the threats—hiked my paranoia up to full level. I’d tried my damned hardest not to look at her sleeping when I’d been watching the door, but now she most likely thought I was a creeper on top of everything else. Or a weirdo.

I’d heard worse. I shouldn’t even care what she thought of me, and yet, there it was.

I steered the car past the road that led to the Passages. “Trust me, the Alliance doesn’t arrest people all that often. This week is
not
typical. By the way, Simon’s going to meet us in the Passages later to talk about the refugees. I’ll get your phone back for you and you can contact your friends, okay?”

“I—sure.” She shook her head. “Why are you helping me?”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“I don’t have a clue what’s going through your head at the moment.”

Yeah. Neither did I.

As we turned towards the gates of Central, a sharp screech rent the air, and a huge, heavy shape came half-running, half-flying out of the side-street to the Passages. I saw talons, twin membranous wings, thick-scaled body, lashing poison-barbed tail—before it all slammed together into one image.

Wyvern.

“Shit!” I yelled, braking.

Scaled feet slammed down onto the front of my car, claws digging in. I swerved, killing the engine a second before we collided with another vehicle. My car shuddered to a stop—or what was left of it.

I was already unbuckling my seatbelt and diving for the door, snatching up the tire iron I kept under the seat for emergencies. I rolled over on the pavement and Ada tumbled out as the wyvern clawed its way through the front of my car. Bits of metal flew everywhere, and jaws clamped down where we’d been sitting seconds ago.

Swearing, I threw the tire iron as the beast raised its giant scaly head, striking it in the mouth and knocking several teeth flying in a spray of blood. But I hadn’t hit it at the right angle to knock it out, only piss it off even more.

Crap, this was bad. I didn’t have my stunner
or
any other weapon—it seemed to me the Alliance was seriously misguided on that one, not allowing employees to carry weapons outside patrol hours. But Ada reached for her boot and pulled a dagger.

“You can’t fight it, Ada,” I said, backing up. This wasn’t a fight two people could win.

“Kay!” Ms Weston leaped out from the car I’d almost hit, and the wyvern headed right for her.

“Son of a
bitch,”
I said, and prepared to kick common sense in the face.