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Mistral's Kiss (Merry Gentry #5)(34)

By:Laurell K. Hamilton

CHAPTER 19
FROST’S HAND GRABBED MY SHOULDER, PRESSING ME AGAINST the seat. “Merry, please, don’t make Doyle’s sacrifice in vain.”
I touched his hand, pressed it against me, and there was more blood on it. “How can I let them drive us to safety and not fight it?”
“You must. I am too hurt to help, and you are too fragile. I would willingly die with them, but you must not die.”
Agent Charlie had us on the narrow road, driving a little too fast for the darkness and the snow. He hit ice and skidded.
“Slow down or you’re going to put us in a ditch,” Bancroft said. “And you, Frost, right, you need to lie back and let me finish putting pressure on this wound. You bleed to death and you can’t keep the princess safe.”
“Did you see it?” Charlie said as he slowed down. “Did you see it?”
“I saw it,” Bancroft said in a strained voice. He pulled on Frost. “Let me take care of the wound like your captain ordered.”
Frost let go of me, slowly, his hand pulling away. I started drawing the trench coat over me. I didn’t know whose coat it was, but I was cold. Cold in a way that the coat wouldn’t help, yet it was all I had.
Agent Charlie slowed at a sharp turn, and I caught a glimpse of something in the trees. It wasn’t the wild hunt, and it wasn’t our men.
“Stop,” I said.
He slowed further, almost stopped. “What? What is it?”
I saw them in the trees: goblins. Goblins walking in single file, cloaked for the cold, bristling with weapons in the cold light of the moon. They were walking away from the fight, though some of them glanced back. That was enough to tell me they knew what was happening, and they were leaving my men to die.
“Drive,” Bancroft said.
“Stop,” I ordered.
Agent Charlie ignored me. The car picked up speed.
“Stop,” I repeated. “There are goblins out there. They can tip the balance. They can save my men.”
“We’re doing what your guard demanded,” Bancroft said. “We’re going to a hospital.”
I had to stop the car. I had to talk to the goblins—they were my allies. They had to help, if I asked it, or be forsworn.
I reached over, touched the agent’s face, and thought about sex. I’d never done this to a human before, never used that part of my heritage for evil. And it was evil—I didn’t know him, didn’t want him, but I made him want me.
The agent slammed on the brakes, throwing me into the dash, and throwing the men in the back into the floorboards. Bancroft yelled, “What the hell are you doing?”
Agent Charlie threw the car into park, skewing halfway across the road. He unbuckled his seat belt, pulled me toward him, and started trying to kiss me, his hands everywhere. I didn’t care, as long as the car was stopped.Bancroft came over the seat. “Charlie, for God’s sake, Charlie. Stop!”
I took advantage of the fight to reach across and unlock the door while the men fought almost on top of me. I opened the door and fell backward into the road. Charlie tried to crawl after me. Bancroft slid over the seat and on top of his partner.
I got to my feet on the icy road, huddling under the coat.
The goblins were there in the dark, just outside the headlight beams. Two faces looked at me, two nearly identical faces: Ash and Holly. The wind blew their yellow hair from their hoods. I couldn’t tell which twin was which in the uncertain light—the only difference was eye color.
“Hail, goblins,” I called.
One of them touched the other and nodded toward the dark. They began to turn and leave. I yelled, “I call on you as allies. To deny me is to be forsworn. The wild hunt is abroad, and oathbreakers are sweet meat to them.”
The twins turned back to us, and the goblins who were only dark shapes behind them shifted in the dimness. “We did not make this oath,” one of them called.
“Kurag, Goblin King, did, and you are his people. Do you call your king a liar? Are you king now among the goblins, Holly?”
I had taken a chance on that. I wasn’t certain which brother it was, but I’d guessed based on the fact that Holly had the worse attitude of the two. He bowed his head in acknowledgment. “The princess sees well in the dark.”
“She merely has good ears,” his brother said. “You complain more.”
Ash started down the side of the road, ignoring my plea, and some of the others followed. Most stayed in the shadows along the road’s edge. There had to be nearly twenty of them. It was enough to make a difference, enough, maybe, to save…my men.
I heard a car door open behind me. Frost crawled out and fell into the snow and ice of the road. I went to him but kept my gaze on the goblins.
“This is not our fight,” Holly said.
“I need your help as my allies; that makes it your fight,” I said. “Or have the goblins lost their taste for battle?”
“You do not battle the wild hunt, Princess. You run from it, you join it, you hide from it. But you don’t fight it,” Ash said. I could see his green eyes now. His hood framed a face as handsome as any at the Unseelie Court, golden-haired; only the pure, pupil-less green of his eyes and a bulkier body under the cloak betrayed his mixed heritage.
“Will you be forsworn?” I asked. I clung to Frost’s hand in the snow.
“No,” Ash said. But he was not happy about it.
“We came out to see what the fuss was,” one of the other goblins said, “not get ourselves killed for a bunch of sidhe.” The goblin was almost twice as broad as any sidhe. He turned into the light a face that was covered in hard, round bumps. “Get a good look, Princess.” He threw back his cloak so I could see more of him. His arms were as covered as his face in bumps and growths, marks of beauty among the goblins. But these bumps were pastel colors—pink, lavender, mint green—not a skin tone that the goblins could boast. 
“That’s right, I’m half sidhe,” he said. “Just like them, but I’m not so pretty, am I?”
“By goblin standards you are the more handsome,” I said.
He blinked eyes that bulged slightly from his face. “But you don’t judge by goblin standards, do you, Princess?”
“I ask as your ally for your aid. I ask as a blood-oathed ally to your king that the goblins aid me. Call Kurag and summon more goblins.”
“Why don’t you call the sidhe?” the bumpy goblin asked.
Truth was, I wasn’t certain there was anyone left who would risk themselves against the great hunt for me. Nor was I sure whether the queen would let them. She had been so unhappy with me when last we met.
“Are you saying that a goblin is a lesser warrior than a sidhe?” I asked, avoiding the question.
“No one is a greater warrior than the goblins,” he said.
Ash said, “You don’t know if the sidhe will come.”
I was out of time to prevaricate further. “No, I don’t,” I admitted. “Aid me, Ash, help me, as my ally, help us.”
“Beg,” Holly said, “beg for our aid.”
“The goblins seek to delay,” Frost said, voice hoarse, “they seek to delay until the fight is over. Cowards!”
I gazed up at the three tall goblins, and the others waiting in the shadows. I did the only thing I could think of. I searched Frost until I found a gun. I pulled it free of the holster and got to my feet.
Bancroft had finally handcuffed his partner to the steering wheel, though Agent Charlie was still trying to get free and get to me. Bancroft joined us in the snow. “What are you going to do, Princess?”
“I’m going to go back and fight.” I hoped that in the face of my determination, the goblins could do naught but join.
“No,” Bancroft said, and started to reach across Frost toward me.
I pointed the gun at him and clicked off the safety. “I have no quarrel with you, Agent Bancroft.”
He had gone very still. “Glad to hear it. Now give me the gun.”
I started to back away from him. “I’m going back to help my men.”
“She’s bluffing,” the warty goblin said.
“No,” Frost said, “she’s not.” He struggled to his feet, then fell back into the snow. “Merry!”
“Bancroft, get him to the hospital.” I aimed the gun skyward and started running back the way we’d come. I tried to think of summer’s heat. Tried to bring the idea of warmth to my shields, but all I could feel was the ice under my feet. If I was human enough to get frostbite, I’d lose feeling soon.
Ash and Holly came up beside me, one on either side. They loped along while I ran my fastest. They could have outdistanced me and gotten to the fight sooner, but they’d only obey the letter of our agreement. If I fought and asked for help, then they had to help me, but they didn’t have to get to the fight one second before I did.
I prayed, “Goddess, help me and my allies to arrive in time to save my people.” I felt someone pounding up behind us, but did not glance back—it was just one of the larger goblins.
Then hands, silver-grey in the moonlight. Before I knew it I was cradled against a chest almost as wide as I was tall. Jonty, the Red Cap, was ten feet of goblin muscle. He glanced down at me with eyes that in good light would be as red as if he looked at the world through a spill of fresh blood. His eyes were a match for Holly’s. It had made me wonder if the goblin half of the twins was a Red Cap. The blood that dripped continuously from the cap on his head shone in the light. Little drops of it were flung behind him as he picked up speed and raced toward the fight. The Red Caps had earned their name by dipping their caps in the blood of enemies. Once, to be warlord among them you had to have enough magic to keep the blood dripping indefinitely. Jonty was the only Red Cap I’d ever met who could do the trick, though he wasn’t a warlord, because the Red Caps were no longer a kingdom unto themselves.Ash and Holly were forced to stretch to keep up with the much bigger man; Jonty was a small giant even among them. They had been in charge of this expedition, but goblins are a tough lot. If they let Jonty reach the fight first—if they showed themselves weaker, slower, than him—then they might not be in charge at the end of the night. Goblin society is survival of the fittest.