On the Edge (The Edge #1)(76)
Author: Ilona Andrews

"Fine," she said, breathless. "I’ll just lie here for a bit. He’s made of iron: he runs very fast and never gets tired."

"The hooligans escaped," ElEonore said.

"What?"

"Jeremiah called me on your phone. He took them and Leanne with her boy out into the Broken, just as agreed. They sat all quiet and nice, until he stopped to make a right onto the freeway at the gas station, and then they threw the truck’s door open and bolted."

Rose closed her eyes and groaned. Why me?

"Jeremiah and Leanne tried to catch them, but they’re gone."

"They went back to the house." Rose pushed off the ground and sat. She felt a thousand years old. Where else would they go? "It’s Jack’s fault. He’s convinced we’ll all fail to fight Casshorn without his help, and he must’ve talked Georgie into it. I’ll get them and take them out to Leanne. I doubt they’ll come out for anyone but family, so it’s either you or me, and it will have to be me, since you’ll be cursing Casshorn."

"Hurry," Grandma said.

"All right." Rose pushed herself to her feet.

"Go!" ElEonore waved.

Rose headed for the gates. She briefly considered getting Declan but decided against it. He’d need to protect the palisade while they cast their curse, and she knew the Wood like the back of her hand. She’d be back in a couple of hours, after she dropped the boys with Leanne. The boys had to be taken to safety, and the faster she managed it, the better it was for everyone involved.

Chapter 24

ROSE jogged at a brisk trot down the road. Her body ached. There was clearly wisdom in all that running Declan did in the mornings. If she ever hoped to keep up with him, she’d have to take up running, even though she hated it with a passion. She walked a lot, but there was a world of difference between walking a few miles down the road and running for your life. And cleaning offices for ten hours a day didn’t exactly improve her athletic ability. She’d have to ride better, too. She did well enough at slow speed, but a canter would have her hanging on for dear life, and the gallop was right out.

She recalled Declan being all indignant about the boys not being able to ride a horse. Like everyone had a damn horse in the Edge. The only reason she knew how to ride was because Grandpa had insisted on keeping his half-blind old mare, Lovely. She remembered riding her as a child. Lovely died a few years back, and Grandpa had never replaced her.

She wondered if Grandpa Cletus would’ve approved of Declan.

Rose rounded the turn and glimpsed the house. She braced herself. There would be angry yelling and tears. She’d get her way in the end, but it would take some harsh words.

A tall, dark-haired man stepped into the road from between the shrubs. He wore jeans and a black leather jacket over a faded T-shirt. Wild eyes looked at her, glowing like two pieces of amber.

William.

Rose halted.

He made no move to approach her. His face was grim, his mouth a severe line. "The kids are safe," he said. "I’ve watched over them."

Fear trickled down her neck. She reminded herself that she could fry him with her flash at any moment. "Why are you here, William?"

He shook his head. "I don’t know."

She searched his face and saw a blank uncertainty tinted with wariness. That’s exactly what Jack looked like when he blundered into the unfamiliar territory of human emotions and clenched up, not knowing what to say or do next. If Jack was any indication, William was stretched to his limit. He could snap and lash out at any moment.

"Come sit with me," she said, keeping her voice calm. "We’ll talk."

He followed her to the house. She removed the ward stones, letting him in, and pointed to the porch chairs. He sat on the steps instead, and she sat on the other side, keeping enough distance between them. She glanced at the kitchen window and saw two faces. They ducked, but not before she hit them with a first-rate scowl.

Rose looked back to William. He was at an emotional cliff, and one wrong word or look could push him over. She’d talked Jack from this same edge more than once. Of course, an eight-year-old boy and a trained killer approaching his thirties were two different things. She’d have to tread very carefully. Honesty was paramount. Jack instinctually sensed her lies, and William would probably do the same. It was best to stay away from subjects that might agitate him.

"I saw you with Declan," he said. "Are the two of you . . . ?"

There went the careful treading. "I love him," she said.

"Huh." He dragged his hand through his hair. "Does he love you?"

"I don’t know. We didn’t discuss it, so he doesn’t know how I feel."

"Why him? Why not me?"

He had delivered the questions in a perfectly neutral tone, but she glimpsed the emotion behind it – a lifetime of rejection. He deserved an honest answer, and she took a moment to think about it.

"It’s difficult to explain. We’re alike in many ways. You wouldn’t think it, but we are. He makes me feel wanted and safe, and he makes me laugh . . . He also irritates the daylights out of me. I almost flashed at him at one point." She paused. "It’s very hard to break love down to explainable pieces, William. It’s a force, a feeling. You know when you feel it and you know when you don’t."

"So you feel nothing for me?" The question was delivered in a flat, neutral voice.

"That’s not quite right," she said. "I don’t know you well, but there are things I like about you. I like that you’re honest. I like that you’re patient and kind to the boys and that you’ve watched over them. I didn’t like that you hung Emerson upside down on the tree and then scared me half to death."

"I was frustrated," he said. "You weren’t happy."

He had made her a present and didn’t understand why she wasn’t thrilled. Just like Jack. "I appreciate the thought behind it. I still wish you hadn’t done it."

William gave her a suspicious look.

"Once George and an older boy got into a fight. The older boy hit George in the mouth and knocked him off his feet. Jack decided to jump in. He beat the older boy very badly. Broke his nose and knocked out a tooth. He thought he was a hero. I grounded him for a week. If he had punched the boy and left it at that, I would’ve let it go. But he had done too much. Hanging Emerson off the tree was too much." She sighed. "Believe it or not, Declan and I had this same discussion. I don’t want anyone to fight my battles for me. It’s my business, and I’d like to handle it myself."

He considered it. "Fair enough."

"I do have feelings for you," she said. "Gratitude for trying to watch out for the boys and for checking on me when I’d lost my job. But they aren’t the same feelings as I have for Declan. When Declan’s gone, I miss him very badly. It’s like something isn’t quite right with the world."