Chapter 19
Nineteen
Grayson
Infants. Lazarus was letting infants decide the fate of the Magical Usage Council.
It was nearly impossible for me to wrap my head around.
Could the tiny, underdeveloped wyvern inside the eggs understand what had happened?
What was the mental capability and reasoning abilities of an infantile wyvern?
I had no idea and my brain kept circling the issue in an endless, nonproductive loop of speculation. Concentrating was difficult, and yet continuing our search seemed the most productive use of our time. Sitting around and brooding would only lead to a coronary.
“You should reconsider leaving,” Martin said for the fifth time in the last forty minutes. “I mean it, Gray. And if you don’t leave and the eggs throw all our collective asses under the bus, then don’t be an idiot and stay when Lazarus gives you an out.”
I fisted my hands, my blunt nails digging into my palms. Partially in my wisp form, my blue flame licked up my arms. While I understood Martin’s logic, I was growing weary of him trying to get rid of me.
Oh, I knew it wasn’t meant that way, but given how fixated he was on the idea, it was difficult to remind myself of that, to calm my immediate reaction and quiet my rising anger.
I knew, without a doubt, that Martin didn’t really want me to leave him.
And that was the key. Martin didn’t want me to abandon him. What he did want was for me to be safe.
“You need to stop saying that,” I said, attempting to maintain my calm. Martin and I were both having trouble focusing, and so I completely quelled my wisp form.
“No. There’s no reason for you to throw your life away for—”
“For what? You?” I finally snapped, turning on my heel and staring up into Martin’s face, daring him to contradict me. “That’s what you mean. You don’t think you’re worth dying for.”
Martin’s mouth dropped open. “Of course not. I’m definitely not worth—”
“And what about me? If the roles were reversed, would you leave me?” I knew I was pushing.
This thing between us was new and fragile.
Life-and-death decisions shouldn’t be dangling between us and yet that’s where we found ourselves.
Sometimes, you simply couldn’t fight fate.
You just had to roll with her shitty decisions and try not to fall out of the boat.
My words stopped Martin cold. His mouth clicked closed and his eyes became distant.
I could see the words sitting on the tip of his tongue.
I could feel the weight of his emotions within that little piece of his magic I now held.
Perhaps that’s why I was so certain about this thing between us.
There was no ambiguity, no questioning if Martin’s feelings were real or not.
Magic didn’t lie. Period.
It could be twisted and corrupted, but in its purest form, Magic was the most truthful substance in the world.
Because of that, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Martin would indeed sacrifice himself for me.
Hadn’t he already proven that when he’d agreed to be my anchor?
Maybe I hadn’t realized the danger in the beginning, but I was fully aware now and so was Martin.
When I balked, Martin pushed forward. My dryad was 100 percent invested.
Martin was all in. His continued nagging about me leaving made it seem he didn’t think I felt the same.
With a heavy sigh, Martin’s shoulders rounded with defeat. “This is ridiculous. We shouldn’t be competing for who’s willing to give up the most for the other, let alone our lives.”
“Agreed, but that’s where we are.” I spread my arms. A random hallway wasn’t the best place to have this conversation, but sometimes one didn’t get to choose the venue where life-changing events occurred.
Martin blew out a frustrated breath, raking his slender fingers through his thick, brown hair. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” Martin flinched. “I know it’s fast and I don’t want to scare you, but it’s the truth.”
Closing the distance, I grabbed Martin’s hands, holding them within my own.
Martin’s fingers were so much larger than mine.
They were strong and sturdy, just like the oak he was made of.
“I’m not scared.” When Martin gave me a dubious look, I grinned and answered, “Not about us. Lazarus and his wyvern friends are a different matter.”
“You think the others are his buddies?”
“No idea. All I’m saying is that this”—I pointed a finger between the two of us—“is the least scary part of this whole mess.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “I can feel you, in here, just like you can feel me inside of you. We shared a piece of our individual magic with each other. I had no idea what that would truly mean when we did it. Now that I do, I don’t regret a thing and I know you don’t either. Do you know how I know?”
Martin’s palm cupped my hand, landing over my heart. “Because of the magic. Because I feel the exact same thing from you.”
I smiled triumphantly. “And there you have it.” Growing more serious and a bit more scolding, I moved our hands, this time my finger pushing against Martin’s chest. “So, stop questioning me. Stop trying to get me to leave. I’m not going.
” I swallowed hard, wondering if I could walk away even if I truly wanted to.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” I cocked my head to the side as I stared up at this magnificent dryad.
“Who would have thought? A dryad and a will-o’-the-wisp. ”
Martin’s chuckle was low and calming. “Certainly not me, that’s for certain.”
I huffed. “No. You were an absolute shit when we first met.”
Gathering me into his arms, Martin pressed his lips to the crown of my head, gently rocking us back and forth. “I suppose you’d like an apology.”
Pressing my cheek and ear against Martin’s chest, my eyes slipped closed, the steady pace of his heart soothing. “Never. Your concerns were valid.”
“Still, I should have—”
“No, you shouldn’t. I’m not going to apologize for what I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand your perspective regarding my species.
We all follow our nature. Unfortunately, that means that sometimes we inadvertently hurt others in the process.
That doesn’t mean there was anything malicious in the harming, simply that it happened.
I don’t expect you to apologize for your feelings. I’m just grateful they’ve changed.”
“You are an incredible individual, Grayson Delarue.”
“Not really, but I’m glad you think so. That’s more than enough for me.” I felt a tug on my pants and released a heavy sigh. “FYI, I’m pretty sure Henry’s climbing up my leg.”
“You’re damn right I’m climbin’.” Henry popped up on my shoulder before grabbing a hold of my hair and completing the journey to the top of my head.
“Ow! Watch it.” I didn’t much appreciate the yank on my hair.
“Pfft, you’ll get over it, ya baby.” I felt Henry plop down on top of my head, his voice drifting from above me. “All this lovey-dovey shit is precious and all, but we’ve got buzzweeds to find. Unless you don’t want my help no more.” The challenging tone was difficult to miss.
“We would very much like your help,” Martin answered for the two of us. “The song the buzzweeds make are uncomfortable for Gray.”
My heart warmed. “That’s very sweet of you, Martin.”
“I don’t like the idea of you hurting,” Martin answered, his fingers sliding up and down my upper arms.
Henry made a gagging sound.
“Don’t you dare vomit on my head,” I threatened while reaching up to pluck him from my hair.
“Then stop sayin’ such nauseatin’ things and I won’t have to upchuck on your pretty white hair.
” Before I could grab him, Henry scampered to the side, closer to my ear.
“Say, this really is a pretty color. There’s some nice light blue strands deeper down.
It’s nice and soft too. It’d make good stuffin’ for a pillow or—”
“I am not giving you any of my hair.” Henry avoided my grab again, climbing down my back.
“No need to get snippy about it,” Henry yelled, his voice drifting the further down my body he went. “It was a compliment.”
“Not when you want to take it,” I huffed, turning and staring down at Henry now that he was back on the ground.
“So touchy.” Henry stuck his nose in the air and puffed out a tiny breath before going back down on all fours and scrambling down the hall. “Come on. Those buzzweeds ain’t findin’ themselves.”
Martin and I shared an exasperated look before we dutifully followed. Truth was, I was exceedingly grateful for Henry’s help.
“I’m just sayin’, it’s a good thing he didn’t show up when we were all meetin’ with the scary-ass wyvern.
” Henry’s voice was strained as he dragged another buzzweed out of a hole we’d made in the wall.
That brought the day’s total to five. A good haul.
The task had taken a toll on poor Henry.
While the buzzweeds weighed next to nothing in my hands, they were heavy to Henry.
Henry had been stuck on the topic of Helios for the last hour, maybe more.
It wasn’t that the little house dweller was wrong; it was simply that I didn’t have an answer.
Neither did Martin. None of us knew when or where Helios would pop up next.
So far, he’d stayed away after the incident with Jima.
I wasn’t encouraged that situation would hold.
“That woulda been disastrous,” Henry continued, wiping the sweat from his forehead, making a strange little clear spot on his otherwise dirt-stained face.
Henry grunted, pulling the buzzweed to a stop as soon as Martin or I could grab it.
“I think that’s the last one for today,” Henry said.
“I’m pooped.” As if to prove his point, Henry dropped on his ass, legs splayed before him and shoulders slumped.
Martin snatched the inert buzzweed, Warlock Holland’s charm not deactivating it, but tamping down its reactions enough that it could be collected.
“I’m tellin’ ya,” Henry continued now that he’d caught his breath, “that djinn ain’t done with Jima.” Henry tapped the corner of his eye. “Elvira told me how he was lookin’ at Jima. That kind of want don’t go away just like that.” Henry snapped his fingers.
I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you and Elvira were on speaking terms again.” Last I’d seen, Henry had well and truly insulted the ghostly Elvira. Well, insulted might be a bit of a stretch. Hurt her feelings was more like it.
Henry waved me off. “Elvira don’t hold a grudge.”
I felt Martin tense beside me and had the distinct impression that wasn’t strictly true. Maybe she simply had a soft spot for the house dweller.
Regardless, I hardly knew what else to say regarding the situation and said as much. “I’m not sure what more we can do. Do you?”
Chin in his fisted hand, Henry appeared to be thinking hard.
Either that or he was constipated. With a huff, he finally conceded.
“No, but maybe somebody ought to call that Peaches pixie and see if he can ask Helios to stay away for a bit. Right now ain’t the best time to have unpredictable djinn around. ”
“I don’t disagree,” Martin answered. “However, I get the impression that Helios is rather bored and asking him not to do something might be akin to dangling bait in front of his curious djinn sensibilities.”
I vigorously nodded. “Agreed. From what I understand, Peaches won’t go so far as to make it an official wish. If that is the case, tipping Helios off that there is something he might find interesting going on at the Magical Usage Council will—”
“Directly send him our way,” Henry supplied. “Fuck, you’re probably right.”
Martin’s palm heavily landed on my back, grounding me. “I’m afraid to say that there is little more we can do, and doing nothing, in this case, might be the best option.”
Henry stood and stomped his foot. Hands fisted on his hips, his gaze drifted to the side. “I just hate seein’ Jima so upset. He still hasn’t transformed back into his humanoid form. Jima hasn’t stayed a ferret this long in, oh, I don’t know, but it’s been years. Most likely decades.”
“He finds comfort in his smaller form,” I supplied. “Sometimes, I’d rather be in my wisp form and at others, I’m happier as I am now.”
“Same,” Martin agreed. “I love my oak form. I find a special kind of peace when my roots are settled deep into my birth soil, but I wouldn’t want to give up this form either. They are two halves of the same whole. Should one disappear, I would be incomplete.”
Henry waved us off. “You shifters are a strange lot.”
Martin bristled. “I am not a shifter. Neither is Gray.”
With a shrug, Henry stood. “Can’t see what the difference is. You both shift into another form. In my book, that makes you shifters.”
“I—” Martin’s words vanished, swallowed by a look of utter confusion. Finally, he settled on “that still doesn’t make us shifters.” Even Martin knew it was a lame argument.
“Whatever. It don’t make me no never mind what you wanna call yourselves.
I’m goin’ back to my burrow to get some well-deserved shut-eye.
Let me know if that ancient-ass wyvern female gets here and we’re all about to get roasted.
On second thought, don’t wake me. Maybe I’ll sleep through it.
Dyin’ in your sleep don’t sound too terrible to me.
” I balked at the nonchalance those words were spoken with.
Martin and I watched Henry lazily pull himself back through the hole in the wall.
His lower half got caught for half a second.
Long enough I almost stepped in to help, thinking of giving his bottom a push.
I didn’t get a chance to even take a step before his flailing legs toppled over, disappearing behind the wall.
Quietly standing there, Martin finally shook his head and said, “How about we drop these off with Keir, get something to eat, and head back to my quarters. I could use some time in the dirt.”
I couldn’t think of a better ending to this worrisome day. “Sounds perfect. If you don’t mind, I could use some wisp time also.” I’d loved coming aware cradled within Martin’s branches, the gently soothing song of his soil filling me.
“Then let’s do just that.” Martin leaned down and pressed his lips to my temple. As he pulled away, I heard him scoff, “Shifters. What a ridiculous notion.”