Fallon’s lips compressed into a tight line, the sight a familiar one from any of the few times Fallon was caught unawares. “I didn’t either.”
“Probably was saving it for a big-time power play where it really could have killed you. Lucky break for us he had to use it in such a hurried situation.” Fallon snorted as though to answer what she thought of that possibility, but otherwise said nothing, her concentration on each and every pull that brought her closer to the top. Laire waited a beat of time before saying, “He’s got a bound on him.”
Fallon stopped cold, holding by her fingertips as she looked at Laire with all steely intensity. “A bound?”
Laire nodded. “Mortal.”
Fallon’s mouth formed into a half snarl. With an explosive pull, she cleared the last few feet and pushed out of the crater. “What sort of idiot gets themselves bound by the likes of Hadrien?”
Laire stood as well, giving a nonchalant shrug before bending to flick a few stray patches of dirt from her skirt. “I don’t know how it happened, but it was undeniable. Even through that junk he threw at me, I could feel it between him and the Spellbook.”
“This gets better and better,” said Fallon, kicking at a large stone. She straightened herself, raising her head and putting hands on hips. “This isn’t a case of professional pride. He’ll throw everything, call every favor to keep that book.”
Laire only gave a half-nod in agreement before she froze, her eyes widening in animated despair. “You aren’t going with Plan B now, are you?”
“Oh, Plan B, C, D, E, F, and G if I can think of it in time. We are getting that book back.”
Fallon turned on her heel, but paused mid-stride as Laire, her voice devoid of all earlier animation, called out, “Merc has the Dream Crafter. He grabbed her along with the book.”
Fallon’s head fell forward for a bare moment. A new tension showed itself in the line of her spine and the clenching of her fists. Raising her head was a deliberate motion, as was the turn to face Laire again. Her voice was even, as void of emotion as she could achieve. “Merc’s not a killer. Whatever else he does, he doesn’t murder people.”
Laire’s gaze was hard, a rare look for the tiny mage. “You know his training. She’s an enemy and a threat he doesn’t know how to neutralize. Maybe he’ll debate for awhile, but she’s in his hands, and with the mortal bound, he can’t afford any variables right now.”
“Laire–”
“We brought her into this.” Laire stepped forward, her arms crossed in front of her and her breaths coming out in short bursts, the tempo rising the more she spoke. “We used her brother. We’re responsible, and we need to make this right.”
Debate played out on Fallon’s face, in her clenching jaw and hard eyes and deep breaths. Finally, she lifted her head and called out, “Tec.”
A British tone filled the air between them. “Good to hear from you. There was an explosion of magic and then a blackout. An Erasure team has been dispatched and damage control has begun. Should we send anyone else?”
“No, not necessary. Merc escaped with both the Spellbook and the Dream Crafter, so there’s no threat here. Put out to all our allies we want Merc and we want him now. Usual price. Also, put out Amana’s photo. Don’t give any explanations, but tell them we’ll give double the usual price for her.” Fallon’s gaze flicked to Laire before she glanced up. “For Amana, tell them to look anywhere that’s a known dumping ground. Double price goes for her body as well.”
A pause, and then Tec said, “Kyo has not authorized any rise in payment.”
“I authorize it, and Kyo can take it up with me.” Steel entered Fallon’s tone, the edge sharp and cutting. “Put it out, Tec.”
It took only moments before Tec’s voice came through. “Done.”
“Oh yeah…” For the first time in the conversation, a sliver of humor returned to Fallon’s voice. “Final thing. Contact the Blackguard. I need a meeting with Griffith himself. Tell him time and location are at his convenience, but I need it as soon as possible – and I’ll be bringing Laire.”
If looks could kill, well, Laire could kill with a look, and her face was only a shade away from that particular expression. Tec returned with, “It’s done. I’ll contact you when I hear back. Headquarters out.”
The inaudible click of magic that signaled the connection was broken, and Laire said, “Low.”
Fallon put up her hands in a don’t blame me pose. “I’m doing what I can. Sooner we get Merc, the better the chances for Amana. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Fallon jerked her chin and turned, calling behind her shoulder, “C’mon, I’ll buy you a coffee.”