Girls Can't Be Knights: (Spirit Knights Book 1) (6 page)

Wrapped in a towel, she peeked her head out of the door, only to come face-to-face with a shirtless Justin rubbing his eyes, yawning, and reaching out to push the door open. She cleared her throat, trying to avoid staring at his chiseled six-pack abs, tight pecs, and thick biceps visible in the soft glow of the blue nightlight in the hall.

“Oh. Morning.” He stood aside to let her pass.

Judging him to not be awake enough to leer at her, she grabbed her dirty clothes and ducked out. When she saw Marie in the kitchen, she hesitated to ask for anything. Clothing, however, seemed kind of important. “Um, can I—”

“Oh, you need fresh clothes. Sorry, I should’ve thought of that. Just a minute.” Marie stopped making breakfast to hurry away.

If that woman apologized to her one more time for something no one should apologize for, she would…something. No real person behaved that way. Marie was too nice. That probably explained how she’d wound up with Justin, who was also too nice. These people couldn’t actually be real. Heroic knights always had fatal flaws, like being a jerk, or stupidity, or serial infidelity.

Claire heard voices murmuring in the hallway, then the unmistakable smack of a quick kiss. Marie bustled back into the room, tossing clothes on the arm of the couch on her way to the kitchen. In the small pile, Claire found panties more red and racy than she expected Marie to have, a bra bigger than she could fill, and a plain T-shirt and sweatpants.

“I washed your socks and they dried overnight, but one’s ripped. If you want them anyway, they’re right here. Your shirt is still damp.”

“Thanks.” Claire pulled everything on except the bra, choosing to stick with her own. Looking down at herself, she felt frumpy, but that beat dead any day of the week. She grabbed her socks and yanked them on, not caring about the small rip. It served as a badge and a battle scar. All her scrapes and cuts had been cleaned and re-wrapped, and she felt confident they would heal well enough.

The doll sat on the couch beside her, staring up with its fixed smile. As much as she wanted to carry it around to ward off the crazy animals, she knew that would never work. Besides, she had a feeling Missy would have second thoughts about giving it up. With a sigh, she settled it in the corner of the couch and left it there.

When she walked into the kitchen, as ready for the day as she felt likely to get, Marie pressed her into service pouring and flipping pancakes. Justin emerged fully dressed a little while later, and the two girls filled the space with noise and bouncing and joy soon after. They still only had four chairs, and Missy seemed delighted by the problem forcing her to sit on her father’s lap again.

“I’m going to be out all day with Claire today,” Justin announced to the table after swallowing his last bite. “We’ve got things that need doing, and they’ll take until dark. That means you two are going to have dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, and I expect to hear you haven’t given them any trouble. Lisa, I know I can count on you to get ready for the bus on time on your own today.”

“Yes, Daddy!” Lisa beamed and held up a forkful of pancake proudly. “I will. I’ll be ready early, even, and walk myself to the bus stop.”

“Let Grandpa Jack walk you up there, Sprout. Don’t go alone.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ll go tell him after breakfast.”

“Good plan.” He kissed the top of Missy’s head and stood up, then stationed her in his chair. “Claire, be ready to go in about ten minutes.” Apparently in a hurry to go, he chugged his orange juice as he strode to the back of the house.

“Yes, sir,” Claire said with a mock salute, then she shoveled food into her mouth and choked it down. She hopped up, unwilling to discover what he’d be like if she kept him waiting, and took both his plate and her own to the sink.

“Feel free to borrow a coat or sweater from the mud room on your way out,” Marie said.

Ten minutes later, she stood outside the front door in a green sweater and her own shoes. Lisa darted past her in genuine wooden clogs with Justin right behind her, shooing her along. He had his chainmail and pauldrons on again, along with the cloak, and worked to buckle his sword belt as the door smacked shut behind him.

He led the way to the wood-chopping clearing. “I’ve got a hunch I want to check on, so we’ll be in Portland most of the day. I wouldn’t take you along for that, but at some point, we do need to stop by your foster home and let them know you’re not dead or kidnapped. It would be a huge waste of time to go and come back twice when I can do it just once. Besides, it won’t hurt you get to an idea of what the job’s like.”

“Uh. Yay? How are you going to convince my foster parents not to report anything to the cops?”

“I’ll be persuasive.”

She grinned at his back. Then she stopped and blinked, because the horse stepped into view, already wearing its saddle and bridle. “Did you leave those on Tariel, or can she put her stuff on herself?”

“There’s a bunch of birds and squirrels that do it for us.”

“And they all swoop in and clean the house while Marie sings, right?”

“Yep. Fridays are kind of crazy.” With a straight face, he stuck his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself into the saddle, then reached down to help her up. “Fortunately, they’re nice enough to crap outside.”

“You’re joking right?” She grabbed his hand, stepped on his boot, and jumped. Climbing up seemed smoother this time, taking less of his effort and using more of her own.

He chuckled. “Yes. Tariel can handle having the saddle on all night, so long as I don’t do it all the time. When I realized we’d need to go out this morning anyway, I didn’t bother to go out last night and remove it.”

Somehow, this knowledge made her more comfortable. “Oh my gosh, I was starting to think Marie was Snow White.”

“Nah.” They trotted down the dirt drive and out onto the street. “I’m a Knight, not a prince. And I don’t think I would have opened a casket to kiss her. That’s just freakish.”

He probably saw the irony of himself referring to something as “freakish.” Claire shut her mouth and watched the scenery go by as Tariel sped up and took them deeper into wilderness. They plunged off the road and galloped through trees, where drops of morning dew splashed on her face. She had no idea why they’d come out here and lost herself in the rhythm of the ride.

Her father had taken her out on Kupiri for quick rides around the neighborhood, but he’d never raced through the woods with her. She looked back to see Justin watching the path ahead of them, and wondered if he ever took Marie out like this. Other ideas about what else they might do on Tariel’s back popped into her head, making her blush. To make matters worse, she wondered if he’d ever do anything like that to her.

“Let me know if you need a break.” His voice shattered her errant daydreams.

“Will do.” Obviously, he had Marie, and they were perfect for each other. He was a perfect dad and a perfect gentleman and a perfect Knight and a perfect husband, and Marie was perfect too. She ought to just admire the example they set and be grateful for it.

Chapter 8

Justin

The time spent riding around in the woods helped Justin center himself and gave him time to think. As much as he loved his family and had plenty of woods to jog through at home, sometimes a ride with Tariel cleared his head and made thinking a thousand times easier.

Ur-phasms had chosen to attack Claire, probably because she had the signs of a budding Knight. Until she found her way to the Palace, she’d be vulnerable and easy for them to find. They’d also be able to best her if she stopped long enough outside protected spaces. Without a weapon, she stood little chance of fending them off for long, and then they’d devour her essence, killing her and becoming corrupt ne-phasms.

Not on his watch.

The question he needed answered was whether they’d done it because they’d been ordered to, or because their master let them do whatever they wanted. To find out, he needed to grab one and ask it. He turned Tariel toward Portland, because he had a destination now. As she usually did, she sped up in response to his unvoiced wishes and new urgency.

They dove out of the woods and onto a road. Tariel’s silver hooves clacked on the asphalt as she reached and exceeded the speed limit. The run took them to and across the I-205 bridge in the breakdown lane, and he covered Claire with his cloak again to keep her safe from flying debris. Tariel threw what Kurt called a force field around him by virtue of their bond, but he’d never thought to ask if it extended to a passenger.

Once off the bridge, he had Tariel leave the freeway. It slowed them down, but it also made them less conspicuous. For some reason, people stared more at a mounted knight traveling eighty miles an hour along the freeway than one trotting up city streets. Portland, go figure. He let Claire out from under the cloak.

“Where are we going?”

“Where you were attacked. What do you remember about the route you took?”

“I, uh, started at school. Grant High. Took a mostly straight line to where you found me.”

“Tariel, let’s start at the school.” He pulled the reins to the left.

She shook her head and turned to the right. “You’re an idiot. This way is faster.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, fine. Go your way.”

They trotted through the streets of east Portland, passing stone churches squatting beside modern buildings. He’d grown up in Vancouver, and every visit to this side of the river showed him something new. Today, he noticed a random silver sculpture in the middle of an intersection. Like all the other random sculptures scattered across the city, he had no idea how to interpret it.

They reached her high school, and he had Tariel walk the streets around the campus. They cut across the park attached to the side. “This is public ground, which, for reasons beyond me, is protected from ur-phasms. I’m guessing yesterday was the first time you’d wandered off from the usual places in a while?”

She took a few seconds to answer, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. I spend a lot of time at police stations, my social worker’s office, my therapist’s office, school, the bus, and whatever place I’m living in.”

“You could’ve been throwing off the signs for a while, then. Where did you step off school grounds?”

Under her direction, Tariel took them to a break in the shrubs and trees, then onto the street. Claire pointed down the street. “That’s where the dog was, and up there, that’s where the cat flew out of nowhere.”

Tariel avoided the house with the dog, which jumped up anyway and strained at its leash without barking. “She ran quite a long way to get to where we found her.”

The observation—and the ur-phasm on the leash—made him hold the girl a little tighter. It sounded as though she’d had a rougher day than he’d realized. “Let’s check that place with the cat. It’s probably a stray.” He noted the address with the dog because he’d have to come back and deal with it later. Right now, he needed information and didn’t have time to apply the finesse needed to prevent a lawsuit from the owners of a beloved pet dog.

When they reached the spot, he let go and hopped down. “Stay up there,” he told Claire. To Tariel, he said, “Anything happens, you get her to safety.”

Tariel followed him as he checked the dumpster and white plaster wall of a convenience store. She snuffled the air and waved her head around. “It smells like a breeding ground.”

The area stank of cat, and garbage lay strewn about. Lumps of stained cardboard probably housed mice and rats. Ur-phasms would have a field day here, finding hosts, devouring them, and riding their empty husks. “Yeah, that’s what I’m getting here too.” He stooped and brushed a mailed glove across the concrete, sweeping greasy fast food wrappers aside. “We need to catch one of them.”

A feline scream made all three of them look up. As a cat-shaped ur-phasm flew through the air, Tariel side-stepped and prevented it from landing on Claire’s head. Instead, the ur-phasm hit Justin’s arm and hooked its claws into his armor. He let it hiss and gnaw ineffectually for a moment, then grabbed it around the neck and held it out. “Look at this, we got a live one.”

The ur-phasm kept hissing and spitting as he walked up the street, trying to claw its way out of his grip. He ignored it until he reached a nearby church parking lot, which he jogged across to the corner where he thought the smallest number of passersby would see anything. Tariel had followed in his wake with Claire still on her back.

“Alright. Spill.” He held the ur-phasm up and squeezed it.

Claire sucked in a breath. “You’re not going to hurt it, are you?”

“We’ll see.”

The ur-phasm stopped struggling, its body going limp. “I hate you.”

“No, really? I never would’ve guessed.” He snorted. “Are you working for someone or on your own?”

“I’m just a free ur.” It sounded helpless and pathetic—and completely fake.

He knew there was no such thing as an actual free ur-phasm. Playing dumb, though, might get him more information. “I’m not sure I believe you.” He squeezed enough to make its eyes bug out.

“I swear, I swear! It’s just me and a couple other urs here! The girl looks tasty, that’s all, nothing else. She’s full of sweet, sweet untapped energy, and it makes all of us drool just to look at her. Ter—tomorrow, uh…we’re gonna—”

“Look,” Justin said, “first it was just you, now it’s you and your posse. I know you’re lying to me, which means your life isn’t worth a whole lot to you, and that being the case, I’m thinking pretty hard about letting my horse eat you.”

The ur-phasm waggled its hind legs, trying to wriggle free. “There’s really no Phasm around here.”

“You’re so full of crap,” he said with disgust. In honesty, he had no idea if the thing told the truth or not. He, of course, had no intention of letting it go, since killing these things comprised at least half his job. Holding the mangy shell up, he gestured for Tariel to come forward. She paced to him, which made the ur-phasm freak out.

“N-no! Wait, okay, you got me.” It squirmed and flailed, mad to get free. “It’s shacked up someplace else. I don’t know where, I swear.”