CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

THE DOG BARKS AT MIDNIGHT

HIRAM BROUGHT HIS SUV to a stop at the curb. The house and meet in question stood elegantly set back on what was about three acres of ground with a three- or maybe it was a four-car garage behind it. A stable and arena occupied a good deal of the side acreage, but no sign of equines, not even a pony. On the other side of the winding brick drive, stood a tiny house that turned out to be a chicken coop, complete with an outdoor run protected by chicken wire. Steptoe made a tight noise.

“Chickens.”

“Looks like. Maybe elves like really fresh eggs.”

“They’ll sense me.”

I looked from Simon back to the henhouse. “Oh. You think?”

“Bloody feather mops. Geese are worse, but they’ll cluck their ’eads off.”

“When Scout sees me, he’ll start barking. That should set them off anyway, right?”

He shrugged, his face sagging in a disheartened expression.

“This is going to work, Steptoe.”

“It’s a big ’ouse, innit?”

Carter said, “He’s right. Time isn’t on his side.”

I stared down the driveway, looking for icy-eyes to make his appearance. “I have an idea.”

The other three said, as one, “No.”

I sat back in the car seat, carefully folding my arms over my chest. The bracers had stayed home because everyone had agreed that Devian liked sparklies and would have negotiated for them, somehow, in the bargain. Brian, however, had been okayed to bring his blasting stick, the crystal knob on the cane not yet clear and diamond-like, but definitely improved to a slate-gray appearance. He’d deemed the minor magical setback in its restoration worth the risk and that it would not attract the elf’s attention too much because of its impaired state. Never mind the oddity of a strong, good-looking twenty-year-old leaning on a cane. If Brian couldn’t use it, I had plans for the sturdy stick.

Steptoe squeezed my elbow. “Never mind, ducks, it’ll work out.” He slid out of his coat and began turning it inside out. A second later, he disappeared from sight.

“How is it you do that?”

“Trade secret.” A muffled moment later, he said, “Open the car doors, so I can get out.”

So we did, and that’s when I spotted the figure at the far end of the driveway, pulling a golden lump behind him on a leash. I jumped out of the back seat and an unseen hand stopped me in my tracks.

“Easy, luv. Too eager and ’e’ll take advantage. The pup is likely a’right, just stubborn. Wish me luck.”

“Luck, Steptoe.”

“Too right.”

And then he was gone. Or I think he was, not seeing him and all. The chickens that had been pecking around in their fenced yard did throw up their heads and begin to cluck a bit and beat their wings about. I whistled at Scout and, bless his heart, the pup threw his head up and began barking sharply back at me. Who knew exactly what had disturbed the poultry?

I could see the man at the driveway’s end clearly now, although not the color of his eyes, but Devian couldn’t be mistaken. Dressed sharply, like a country gentleman, he approached us deliberately, and the Eye of Nimora dangled from his free hand.

I breathed in, saying to myself, “Don’t. Drop. It.” The brick expanse we trod might be infamously damaging to the ruby if they met suddenly. Scout had gone from being dragged to bounding ahead of Devian and pulling furiously at his leash. I trotted out a few steps ahead of the guys.

“Scout! Good boy, there you are!”

Ears flopping, tail wagging, tongue lolling, he bounced around gloriously at the end of his lead, yanking the elf this way and that way. Devian lost the arrogance to his gait and fell into simply keeping on his feet and following after the dog.

I bent over and slapped my palms on my thighs. “Who’s a good boy? You are!”

Chickens and pup went wild. Scout lunged toward me.

Devian fell to one knee, and I could hear a sharp command that crackled through the air like lightning. Scout yelped and somersaulted. When he got up on his paws, he whined loudly and strained to get to me. I think I might have growled in response. Brian held his cane out, blocking me.

“Not yet.”

Scout’s piteous noisemaking shook me, but I knew Brian was right. So I steadied myself and waited. Devian untangled himself, dusted himself off, and drew close enough for me to clearly see not only his icy-blue eyes, but the deep anger in them. He took a breath as if to steady himself.

“You keep appointments promptly.”

Carter barely inclined his head in agreement. “We’re ready to fulfill our bargain.” He looked past Devian, assessing the estate, and I wondered if he, like I did, caught the nearly silent opening and closing of a side door. “It might be easier on you to let the dog go first.” His gaze dropped to Scout, who had stopped jumping but sat at the length of his lead, which was stretched taut between them.

Devian took a leisurely moment to look down at his arm, and hand, and then the dog, as if deciding. “Does she know,” he asked, raising his gaze to look at me, “where he comes from? His heritage and his breeding and training? Does she,” and he gave a slow, mean, smile, “does she know that he’s a hound of the Huntsman? What will happen when his true owner comes to take him back?”

I heard a hiss of breath to my flank but had no idea who it came from. “What Huntsman?”

“Have you never heard of the Great Hunt? Gentlemen, you are remiss in her education!”

I cut my hand through the air. “Heard of him. Seen real hounds, and he’s nothing at all like them, if I even believed in the Hunt. Do you lie? I heard elves couldn’t.”

“We cannot.”

But he didn’t say they couldn’t deceive by bending the truth, a nice dodge on its own. The hand I’d cut through the air I now fisted. “Give me back my dog.”

“All in good time. I believe we are bargaining.”

“Bargaining?” I swung around on Carter. “I thought this was a done deal.”

“Easy,” Carter said, but his mouth quirked to one side as if he realized the game I played. “There may still be a few details to iron out.” At Devian’s wince, he amended, “Straighten out.”

Hiram rumbled at me, “Elves don’t like the thought of iron.”

“Oh, so that rumor is true?”

“More or less.”

“Mostly less, or we would not still exist here,” Devian stated.

“Still, it’s an interesting concept.”

The elf would not look at me. “Carter, I thought when you came to treat with me, you would keep the riffraff out of the process.”

Brian straightened, and the end of his cane thumped the bricks. “Riffraff, are we? While you were playing gather ye rosebuds while ye may, I was studying how to better the world.”

“And forgot all you learned and then some, from the looks of you.” Devian’s cold silver scorn swept over Brian, lingered a moment on the cane, and came back to Carter and Hiram. He fastened on Hiram. “You, I take it, are Mortimer Broadstone’s son.”

“I am and proud to acknowledge it.”

“Dwarves and elves have long stood apart, but your father had a good reputation among my people. It’s unfortunate I do not agree with them.”

Hiram might have taken a step forward, but Carter’s tall frame blocked him.

I couldn’t let that one go. “You’re just full of good things to say.”

“You were in my power once. It won’t take much to put you there again.” And he pulled back on Scout’s lead and I finally saw what he had done. The leash was little more than a rope with a slip knot, the loop around Scout’s neck—and every time Devian yanked on it, the noose tightened. Evelyn wanted to be like me: a badass, and I decided I wanted to be all over that elf-man for hurting Scout.

Now Carter blocked me. “Terms decreed this to be a peaceful parley. We need to honor that.”

“He’s already broken it! He’s strangling my dog!” I grabbed Brian’s cane and, with a yell, launched at the smug elf. I didn’t expect to reach him, pixie dust being at his disposal and all, but then Devian didn’t seem to realize I’d throw myself at him in an all-out tackle until too late. I hit him and laid him low, cane at his throat like a hockey stick in my hands, before anyone even knew I had moved.

Except for Scout. He jumped at the same time I did, and went for his enemy’s ankles.

To be fair, Carter had put a pretty heavy glamour on me, none of us wanting Devian to get a feel of the maelstrom stone in my hand. To be even fairer, I thought it was worth it to knock his ass down. A stunned silence hung in the air for about five seconds.

And then the fight started.

I’ve been in some good brawls in my life. Most of them started on the field in high school because I walked around in a lot of anger for those last two years, and I don’t like people who think they can get away with bullshit. I’ve grown since then, but sometimes those old skills just come in really handy. Devian threw me off, I rolled over and began to swing cane, fists, and feet while Scout dodged in and out, growling and yipping in excitement, fangs flashing. If the elf had a magic spell he could use, he didn’t have time to prep it, let alone send it my way. He tucked the ruby inside his fancy broadcloth shirt and came back at me. We rolled over and over on the fancy bricked driveway, in an old-fashioned donnybrook. He slapped me once hard enough to make my ears ring. I recoiled, gathering my strength, watching his eyes to see what his next move would be. Devian had no fear about hitting a woman. Or maybe it was because I was human riffraff. I knotted my muscles and went after him with a haymaker, knew I’d miss, and ducked away from his parry, contacting instead with his rib cage with all I could muster. The wind exploded from him, and he reeled back, eyes closed, fighting for breath. That sort of thing can counteract most spoken spells.

About then, Carter and Hiram got into the fray. Brian stood back, visibly shaken, hands empty. Hiram took hold of me about the time I thought of the flash-bangs I had on me, wondering if elves could swallow them. Or should.

Hiram held me in midair by my shoulders as I glared down at Devian.

Carter had the other, on his knees, arms behind his back. That beautiful blond hair looked frightfully mussed and not at all alluring, and the expression on his face told me he was mad enough to spit nails. Blood trickled sluggishly from a split lip.

I’d drawn elven blood. Or Scout had. The pup scooted over to me, rope trailing behind him, and sat down on Hiram’s boot.

Devian breathed hard. “The deal is off.”

Carter told him, “We’re getting what we came for. You broke with terms first. The pup was indeed mishandled and injured.”

I looked down and saw the swollen welts on Scout’s neck. I’d been somewhat angry before; now rage coiled up in me, hot and nasty. “Let me go.”

“No,” Hiram told me. “Not until you cool down.”

“He hurt Scout.”

Devian laughed. “Take the cursed dog. See how you feel when the Huntsman shows up on your doorstep and wants his creature back.” He spat a crimson blob to one side in disdain before flicking a look at me. “Damn, woman, you’ve got a fist on you.”

“I can fight for what I want.” I handed the cane back to Brian who’d dared to come a little closer. “Consider that payback for the way you treated me at the casino.”

“I saved your life. But never mind that. Humans have always been ingrates.” Scorn poured out with his voice. “Why do you play with your inferiors, Broadstone? I think we shall have to renegotiate your little contract with us. No Queen’s gem until you prove yourself, and the length of term will be considerably longer.”

I didn’t feel the least bit cooler, and now Devian was threatening Hiram. “Let me at him!”

“You’re right,” Hiram agreed and dropped me on top of him.

By the time Carter had us all sorted out again, one of Devian’s scornful eyes sported a nice purple shiner and I had lost a shoe. We’d all gotten to our feet, eying each other with high suspicion, but no one held anyone at bay. Scout helpfully picked my sneaker up and stood with the item in his mouth, sad caramel eyes watching all the fuss. Lest you think this should be beyond a Southern lady, think again. We invented vengeance.

“Reparations!” shouted Devian.

That must have been a magical spell because suddenly, elven henchmen surrounded us, and we had no place to run.

Hiram dusted his hands. “Now that’s the sort of elven deviousness I expected.” He gave a piercing whistle and behind the elves, ranks of Iron Dwarves emerged from the verdant and vast trees lining the roads and country properties, and closed in.