* * *
N ixie looked down at the injured private and frowned. I realized who the private was in that moment: the same man who had threatened us outside the shop. The same man who had opened fire on us and vowed to kill us all. Stacy.
“Ha,” I said.
“Did you let them touch me?” Private Stacy asked, tentatively pressing his stomach where his wounds had been.
“They saved your life,” Casper said. “Now pull your head out of your ass.”
“You let them touch me with their magic,” he spat. “You damned me to hell.”
“Did the military give you leave to die?” Park snapped. “These people are the only reason any of us are alive right now.”
“You’re wrong,” the private said. “They’re the only reason any of us are here.”
The fact the man had a point irritated me. Part of me knew it was their commanders who had sent them here, so close to the river, but another part of me knew that it was true—they wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for us.
Perhaps they would have been there to watch over the ruins of Saint Charles if we hadn’t been there to stop it.
“Park,” I said, “This is Nixie. She’s one of the leaders in the rebellion against the water witch queen and Gwynn Ap Nudd.”
Nixie’s eyes lifted slowly from the man she’d healed and settled on Park. An awkward smile crossed to the sergeant’s face, as if he’d just realized how deadly the water witch standing before him was.
“It’s a pleasure. And I hope I have not wasted my time healing your soldier.”
Park composed himself quickly, and he turned to Aideen. “And thank you. None of my men would have survived if it wasn’t for the intel and weapons you all provided. I’d like to have you brief the troops in a more formal setting. You know infinitely more about our enemies than we do.”
Private Stacy glowered at Park.
Park held the man’s gaze before saying, “Get him outside. The medic will be here soon. Take him to a hospital for evaluation.”
“Gladly,” Casper said. She and one of the other privates dragged the healed man out of the building. Before they were out of earshot, I heard Casper whisper, “Insubordination. He’s a master sergeant, private.”
“I can take him to the hospital,” Aeros’s voice boomed.
Casper shook her head just outside the door. “He’s my responsibility.”
“Very well, friend.”
“I’d be tempted to let Aeros take him,” Park said. “Maybe knock some sense into the idiot.”
“What are you going to do now?” Frank asked, inspecting the bandage on his arm. “This place is wrecked.”
“We have a secondary location,” Park said, “but it’s still too close to the river.”
“You should station your people on Main Street.”
I glanced to Frank and frowned slightly. He didn’t miss the gesture.
“If they’re on Main Street,” Frank said, “and something happens, they can be there in an instant. There’s plenty of space to set up by the art store and on some of the common lots. They’d be close enough together that each unit would act as a scout for another.”
“You’re talking about urban warfare in the middle of a historic city,” Park said, before I could say much the same thing.
“No,” Frank said. “It would keep the battalion far enough away from the river to protect against anything outside of a full-scale attack from the undines. Casper and the other snipers would have their pick of the high ground to fire on strays with the stone bullets. We’ve seen the Fae fight enough times to understand what they’re used to. They tend toward big open fields, like an idiot army marching in a straight line.”
“Hey, now,” Foster said. “We’re mighty fine at killing things, thank you very much.” He winced as Aideen healed the cuts in his wings.
“Just ignore him,” Aideen said. “He’s probably delirious from the pain.”
“You mean the excitement of battle,” Foster said.
Aideen squeezed his arm, releasing a small stream of blood and a high-pitched yelp. “Oh yes,” she said. “The glory of battle.”
“It’ll work,” Frank said. “Put Graybeard out by the old shipwreck. The barge, I mean.”
The mere thought of seeing the Bone Sails docked just off Main Street made me consider Frank’s words. Graybeard knew how to fight the dark-touched. His crew were startlingly efficient, bones though they were. And if the dark-touched ever descended on Saint Charles with a harbinger, Graybeard would know how to fight it. He’d helped us save the Arch not so long ago.
“The idea has some merit,” I said.
“The idea,” Nixie said, “is brilliant. Park, if you station your men here, we’ll provide support on the river.”
Park nodded.
“There are three points in this country we believe she will attack. One is near Falias, or inside its borders. One is here. And the other … is Rivercene.”
I frowned at Nixie. “Rivercene?”
She nodded.
“Are you talking about the bed-and-breakfast out near Columbia?” Park asked.
“Well,” I said. “You go there, get the soufflé.”
Park blinked at me, a blank expression on his face.
“Damian likes to base strategies on food,” Sam said. “You’ll have to forgive him.”
I fought back a smile before I caught sight of Casper’s down-turned face. She was looking at one of her friends, still on the ground outside. I could tell one of the dark-touched had gotten them, based on the claws that had ripped her friend’s back. My good humor died. It was easy to forget that not everyone had seen the horrors we had. It was easy to forget that they might not consider ill-timed humor the best way to relieve tension after a battle.
“Thank you,” Park said. “I’ll make that recommendation when I brief the commanders.”
“If you need us,” I said, “you can find us at the shop.”
* * *
Sam’s mood eased a bit after Aideen healed the bullet wound in Frank’s arm. We asked Park repeatedly if we could help stay and clean up the site, but he declined the offer just as much. He didn’t want us there when his superiors arrived, afraid we would be too unsettling.
I supposed I could understand that. Park and his soldiers had likely never seen battlefield magic before. It could be jarring, and some of the incantations we’d thrown around would be intimidating, even to a seasoned mage.
The water in the shower of my old apartment sputtered, and I yelped when it turned to a freezing temperature for a moment before returning to normal.
“It’s not that cold,” Nixie said with a small laugh. “Now, am I going to have to drag you out of the shower, or are you coming willingly? We only have thirty minutes.”
I turned to face her, the shower hammering on my back. Her face gleamed with the water running off her hair. I ran my fingers through the long strands, taking in the scent of the ocean that followed her everywhere.
“We’ll see our friends soon enough,” she said. “This is our time.” She pressed her lips against mine before pressing a great deal more against me.
* * *
“Why do you still live in this … shit bucket?” she asked.
I grinned at her. “I think you mean shithole.”
She frowned slightly. “Perhaps, but the question stands, regardless.”
I glanced down at the singed berber carpet before raising my feet up onto the old oak coffee table. “I guess it’s still home.”
She sighed and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “At least the couch is comfortable.”
“And there are chimichangas in the freezer.”
Nixie blew out a breath and shook her head, before releasing a sigh.
“We need to go.”
“I know,” Nixie said. “I was just thinking about what Park said. About his superiors. He’s going to show them some of the footage of that battle, and I’m not sure how they’ll respond.”
“Yeah, but like you said, we have bigger things to worry about right now. Best case scenario, it’ll get some of the soldiers on our side. They know we’re the good guys, and if Graybeard is actually going to dock the ship right in front of Main Street, they need to see you.”
“Things were simpler when we were hidden,” Nixie said. She threw off her blanket and stood up to stretch. She glanced over her shoulder and caught me shamelessly staring at her ass.
“We need to go,” I said.
“What’s five more minutes?”
I hesitated. “I’m sure five more minutes won’t hurt.” I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down to the couch into an ungraceful tangle of limbs.