Half-breed’s Bargain by Samantha Wolfe
27
VAN
The shadows swirl around Móira as she steps forward, her lithe form hidden beneath a black voluminous cloak. The hood is down, exposing her long silver hair and the angry roiling storm clouds of her dark gray eyes. Magic thrums in the air around her as she approaches, the darkness parting further as she moves to reveal Liam and Nial flanking her. They’re each dressed in an identical crisp black suit and carrying a long wicked blade made of shiny black metal, most likely titanium, since a steel weapon is out of the question for them. The twin banes of my existence sneer at me with infuriating and knowing expressions as Móira comes to a stop a few yards in front of me. Her gaze sweeps around our little group with disdain before fixing on me again.
She lifts a pale hand from the folds of her cloak and a wave of magic surges outward and the surrounding air thickens with the immobilization spell she’s used on me so many times over the years. I stiffen, waiting for the familiar magic to wrap around my body in the squeezing claustrophobic way that I despise, then still when I realize it doesn’t feel the same as it has in the past. It feels more like the press of the air on a warm humid day, uncomfortable, but harmless. I twitch my fingers to test the magic and feel no resistance.
Shocked, I barely remember not to gasp and fight the urge to look over at Harlow. Has her immunity to magic somehow transferred to me through our soul bond? If so, maybe there’s a real chance I can make it out of this situation alive. I just need to remain still or my mother will know her spell isn’t working on me the way it should. But I don’t want to get my hopes up too high, since my head continues to throb and my body is still achy and feverish. And it worries me that I feel far more exhausted than I should from our brief battle with the vampires.
“My foolish, foolish son,” Móira says, as she shakes her head. “You walk a fine line between loyalty and betrayal this night by somehow breaking into my home and taking what’s mine. Even if I technically gave you permission to do whatever was required to placate this,” -she flicks a negligent hand toward Lynch’s corpse- “pathetic leech.” Her eyes slide up and down my body for a moment, then she smiles. “And it appears you’re already paying the price for it.”
She clenches her hand into a fist, and from the choking noises coming from behind me, she’s pulled the air from the other’s lungs. I make similar noises as she steps closer to me, even though I can still breathe just fine.
“Give me the ring now, Evandro,” she says in an even, almost conversational tone that belies the rage glittering in her eyes. “And perhaps there’s still time enough to undo the damage you’ve already done to yourself.” She smiles as if she’s already won. “Then we can go back to the way things are supposed to be between us.”
Livid anger wells inside me at her words. I can’t go back to that, not now that I’ve gotten a taste of happiness in my short time with Harlow. I won’t after finding out how she used my father and killed him to force me into her bargain. I’m done. Death is preferable to being her slave.
I take in a breath and glare at Móira. “No,” I say.
Her eyes widen and her head jerks backward as if she was just slapped, her spell faltering a bit in her surprise. “Excuse me?” she asks in a shocked and affronted tone.
“That’s code for fuckyou, lady,” Harlow says to my left.
Móira’s gaze snaps over to Harlow with an even more shocked and infuriated expression. And that’s when I act. I haul my arm back and punch my mother right in the face. Her head snaps back as I connect with the side of her jaw, and she stumbles backwards from the blow as Liam and Nial move in to defend her, not even giving me a second to savor the moment. I spin out of the way of one of the twin’s gleaming black blades and whip my knife out to block the other. By then, Harlow has joined in to occupy the other twin while I focus on the one attacking me.
I recover and drive my knife toward the abdomen of who I think is Nial and a wave of woozy dizziness hits me out of nowhere. I stagger a step, missing my target, then bring my knife up just in time to block Liam’s retaliatory strike. Then I stumble backwards before he can try to tag me again.
“What’s the matter, half-breed?” Nial asks with a sneering grin. “Not feeling up to par tonight?”
I snarl and attack Nial again, my anger and my eagerness for some payback giving me a boost of energy. I have him at a disadvantage within seconds, my blade faster and surer than his, like I’ve longed for a chance to prove for decades. I could use my gun now, pull it out and end things with one clean shot between Nial’s mocking and arrogant eyes. But that’s too easy for him. He deserves to bleed cut by cut for every derisive word he’s thrown at me over the years. So I slash at him again and again instead, tagging him multiple times until the snide look on his face becomes a grimace of actual pain and fear.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I’m aware of Harlow battling against Liam, her knives flying just as fast as mine as she easily outfights him. Móira stands to the side with a livid expression as she rubs at her jaw, letting her bodyguards do all the dirty work as usual. Ethan, Mercer, Ameera, and Hale are still frozen where they stand by my mother’s magic. But my mate and I don’t need their help. It’s time to end this so I can focus on my actual target.
I push harder and disarm Nial with my next strike, knocking his blade to the ground. I lunge in close and plant my knife in the fae’s gut. He cries out in pain, and I can’t help the triumphant grin that spreads wide across my lips as I meet his wide and surprised eyes.
“Just what I thought,” I tell him, my tone oozing with disdain. “You’re all words and no substance.”
Then I twist the blade hard, watching with pleasure as the life bleeds from Nial’s eyes before he tumbles backwards onto the ground with my knife still buried in him. I turn toward my mother as I draw my gun and open fire, trying my best to ignore the wave of fatigue that falls over me. I need to kill Móira before I lose what little energy I have left. But of course, that’s much too easy. Instead of the bullet hitting its mark in the center of her chest, an invisible force stops it mere inches from her body before it drops to the pavement and bounces around at her feet with a metallic tinkling sound. I fire again, this time emptying my entire clip in my desperation, but each is just as ineffectual as the first. The gun clicks as I run out of bullets. A wave of nausea and fatigue rolls through me as my head and joints throb with pain, and it’s all I can do not to swoon in its wake.
“My turn,” Harlow says before more gunfire erupts to my left.
I glance over to see her shooting at Móira, Liam’s still and bloody body lying nearby with her knife planted all the way to the hilt in the center of his chest. She also empties her clip at my mother with such bloodlust in her eyes that I’m glad she’s on my side. She too fails to hit her mark as her bullets collide with Móira’s magical shield and join the pile of my spent ones at the fae’s feet. Her gun clicks empty and my mother erupts into laughter. I look back to see Móira’s smug expression.
“I don’t know how or why you’re suddenly immune to my magic, Evandro, or why this woman is too,” Móira says with an arched brow, “but your bullets are not.” Her expression turns hard. “Now give me the ring before your friends pay the price for this foolishness.”
She lifts a hand up and squeezes it into a fist. The choking noises start up behind me again as my mother sucks the air from my friend’s lungs once more. It won’t hurt Ameera at all since she’s a vampire, and Ethan and Mercer can survive it for a while, but Hale is human and won’t last long without air. I need to get Móira to focus on me and leave them alone.
“This has nothing to do with them, Móira,” I say. “This is between you and me, so let’s keep it that way.”
She grins at my words, the expression anything but friendly. “Why Evandro,” she says, “are you suggesting a new bargain between us?”
“I am,” I say.
“Van, no,” Harlow says as she drops her pistol and grabs my arm.
I look at her and her pained features break my heart. “We don’t have a choice, querida,” I tell her as I motion behind us. I glance back to find Hale turning an unhealthy shade of blue. “We’re out of time here.” I turn back to face Móira again. “Fight me one on one to the death,” I say. “If you win, you get the ring and let my friends go unscathed, and then you never harm them or go anywhere near them ever again.”
“All I care about is the ring,” Móira says as she gives Harlow and the other four dismissive glances. “The others mean nothing to me,” -she looks at me again with a haughty tilt of her chin- “and I’d say your usefulness has run its course.” She points the blade at Harlow. “If she interferes while you still stand, it will violate our bargain.” Móira points the knife at the others still behind me. “And I reserve the right to defend myself if any of them decide to act against me after your death.”
“Fair enough,” I say with a single nod, trying not to let her certainty that I won’t survive get to me. I have to believe I have a chance at winning or I’ve already lost.
“Very well,” she says. “I accept your bargain.”
“Van-” Harlow protests in a frantic voice, but I ignore it and do what I have to do to protect her and the others.
“As do I,” I say, and a subtle yet familiar burst of magic shivers through me as the bargain is struck, binding me to it just like the one we struck so many years ago. But this time I’m doing it with open eyes and not an innocent mind clouded by grief.
The choking noises behind me cease, and I glance back to see the others are breathing again, though I note that they’re still immobilized by my mother’s magic. I’m not surprised. Móira won’t risk any interference with our new bargain, and I’m okay with that, since I don’t want any of them to get hurt if they choose to interfere, especially my boys. Harlow sobs next to me, and I whirl in surprise to find tears streaming down her cheeks. I’ve never seen her this distraught before and the sight almost crumbles my resolve to see this through to the end. I drop the now useless gun on the ground and cup her face in my hands.
“You… you can’t do this,” she says in a hoarse voice, her eyes fraught with anguish. “I just found you, and I can’t lose you already.”
“I have to do this, Harlow,” I tell her in a gentle tone. “There’s no other way.”
“I know,” she says as she presses her palms to my cheeks. “But I don’t have to like it.”
I smile wanly as I shake my head. “No, you don’t,” I whisper, then lean in to kiss her.
It starts out slow and languid as I savor what might be our very last kiss. Our auras intertwine with little effort, each longing for the other as they always do. I release her face to pull her lithe body closer to mine and kiss her more deeply, more hungrily. I want her taste, her scent, her very essence indelibly imprinted on my mind. I need it to strengthen my resolve to see this through. It pains me to pull my lips from hers, and I rest my forehead against hers as we catch our breaths in the aftermath of our epic kiss.
Harlow takes in one more shuddering breath before breaking the comforting silence between us. “I love you,” she murmurs so softly that I almost don’t hear it.
Her unexpected words fall on me like sunshine, warming me from the inside out in a giddy rush. No one has uttered those words to me since my father died. Not even Ameera in the ten years we were together. I feel the very truth of her statement through our bound auras, and it fills my heart with such joy. Nothing has ever felt so good in my life. Even if I die at the hands of my mother tonight, I’ll at least have had this one glorious shining moment with this woman before the end.
“I love you too,” I whisper back, relishing the shiver that wracks her body and the surge of delight that lights up her aura at my declaration.
Móira clears her throat, interrupting us. “Well, as sweet as this display is, Evandro,” she says with obvious disdain in her voice, “it’s time to focus on our bargain and not your little plaything.”
“Eat shit and die, lady,” Harlow snarls out, her face twisting with rage as she shoots a murderous glare at my mother, who reacts with a scowl.
I grin. That’s the Harlow I know and love. She returns her gaze to mine, her eyes still fierce. She drags my mouth back to hers and gives me one more brief yet heated kiss before she pulls away, leaving me breathless. Then she turns and strides over to Liam’s body and reaches down to yank her knife out of his chest. She wipes it clean on the dead fae’s suit jacket, then rushes back and holds the weapon out to me hilt first.
“Here. Take mine. It’s bigger than yours, and as you know, size does matters,” she says despite the worry in her expression, her eyebrows waggling suggestively. Her humor defuses some of my fear. “Kick her ass, babe,” she adds as I take the knife from her, her eyes glittering with emotion.
“I’ll do my best, querida,” I say with a smile that I don’t quite feel as I remove my suit jacket.
My body isn’t fairing any better than it was before the new bargain I struck with Móira. I hoped it would help, but for some reason I can’t fathom, I’m still aching and chilled, my head swimming a bit and my fingers and toes tingling in this odd way I’ve never felt before. I fear this battle won’t end well for me, but it’s too late to back down now.
I hand my jacket to Harlow, then turn to face my mother with an expectant expression. Her impatient scowl morphs into a bloodthirsty grin as she opens the black cloak she’s wearing. She pushes it off her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground at her feet, revealing the 1950s style black cropped-leg jumpsuit she’s dressed in, its halter neck displaying the pale skin of her shoulders. She daintily pushes off the kitten heels on her feet, then strides over to one of her dead guards and retrieves his discarded titanium knife. Then she glides toward me, twirling the weapon in her hand in a smooth and practiced way that reminds me that Móira the Gray is much more than her polished appearance suggests. She’s a skilled killer just as much as her now dead assassin brother who trained me.
Móira strikes first without warning, her knife a black blur as she slashes at me, but I expected as much and fling myself out of her blade’s reach. The dark fae style of combat is all about speed and sudden attacks to catch an opponent off guard. I retaliate and thrust my knife out, but miss by mere inches as she dodges out of the way. And so it goes for the first few minutes as we exchange attacks, with neither of us hitting our marks. I’m holding my own so far, but I know it’s only a matter of time before my already fatigued body catches up to me.
As if my thoughts are prophetic, Móira tags me when I’m slow to avoid a particularly fast strike. I whirl away from her next slash with warm blood now streaming down my right arm. I go on the offensive next and open a shallow slice along her forearm, but it’s little more than an annoyance despite her grimace of pain from the iron touching her skin. From there, things go badly as Móira presses harder with her attacks. Within moments, I have several more wounds, the last one along my ribs that bleeds profusely and hurts like a bitch, as Harlow would say. What’s more concerning is that they aren’t healing as quickly as they normally would, and I’m actually feeling lightheaded. Whether it’s from fatigue or from blood loss, I don’t know, but I’m in serious trouble of losing this fight and the thought angers me. I press my free hand against my side to staunch the blood and scowl at my mother as a rush of violent rage courses through me.
Móira pauses and grins, twirling her knife as she circles me with deadly intent in her swirling gray eyes. “Well, those glowing eyes of yours are new,” she comments. “Does it have anything to do with your newfound resistance to my magic, I wonder?” She shrugs. “Not that it matters since you’ll be dead soon enough.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl at her, trying my best to ignore the weariness weighing down my limbs, then lunge for her again.
It’s a mistake.
My head swims as I reach her, and she easily deflects my knife, disarming me in the process before she sinks her blade deep into my abdomen. She pulls it free as I stagger away from her, a grin spreading wide across her face. My knees give out beneath me and I crumple to the ground in agony as a wash of fresh blood spills down my belly. My entire body hurts, not just my wounds, and the pain is beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. It feels like my spine and every other bone in my body is breaking apart. Even the nails of my fingers and toes feel like someone has ripped them from their beds to expose the raw nerves beneath. I’m dying and I know it.
“Van!” Harlow shouts, and then she’s kneeling next to me and shoving her hands down against the wound to staunch the flow of blood.
I don’t even mind the added pain. I’m just glad she’s touching me and that she’ll be here at the end. I fight past the pain and reach out to cup her cheek. “I wanted more for us than to have it end like this,” I tell her in a weakening voice as tears blur my vision.
“Nothing is ending,” Harlow says as tears sheet down her cheeks. She presses harder against my wound.
I grunt in pain as the edges of my vision darken and begin to close in. “I… I wanted us to… to last a lifetime.”
“It will,” Harlow whispers, her eyes brimming with more tears as she lays her blood covered hand over mine where I’m still cupping her cheek. “As long as one of us is still breathing, it will.”
I want to tell her more. I want to profess my love and my gratitude for the brief happiness we shared as mates, for how perfectly we fit together in every way. But my voice fails me when I try to speak again. The darkness presses in as my thoughts scatter to the wind. I stare into Harlow’s eyes with my last bit of strength as she sobs out my name, hoping my gaze will somehow communicate how I feel. I take my last moments to memorize every inch of her beautiful face before the darkness finally fills my vision and everything fades to black.