Shadow's End
Page 66
They had to end this quickly, before they lost the element of surprise.
He bared his teeth in a hard smile. “I’m going to offer Malphas a wager. Who’s in?”
“Me,” said Julian. Beside him, Melly’s eyes filled, but she folded her lips tight and didn’t object.
Rune and Carling glanced at each other and nodded. Rune said, “We’re both in.”
“Fuck, yeah,” said Constantine. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“And I,” said Soren heavily. “I’ll also ensure we have Peacekeeper troops. They can maintain a perimeter, provide a backup assault, and help with – the aftermath.”
Soren meant they could help with the wounded and casualties. The room fell silent, as everyone absorbed his true message.
Claudia said, “Much as I hate to say it, Luis and I are outclassed and outgunned for the main fight, but we’re very willing to help with any backup you might need.”
“I’m afraid I can’t offer anything further, either,” Grace told them. “None of my skill set is suitable for this battle, and as Khalil has already said, I’m the guardian of two small children. I can’t put myself in danger. I’m out.”
“I can offer help,” Khalil said unexpectedly. As the others turned to stare at him in surprise, he added, “I won’t go into battle. That much is still true, but I can provide quick transportation if needed.”
Melly said between her teeth, “Goddammit.”
In a gentle voice, Julian told her, “You’re out.”
“I know.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “I know. Goddammit!”
The only one in the room who hadn’t spoken yet was Bel. Turning to her, Graydon saw that she was composed and calm again. A wave of tenderness washed over him. She didn’t have the skill set to fight a Djinn either.
When she spoke, she didn’t do as he expected and acknowledge that she was not suited for the upcoming battle.
Instead, she said, “Unquestionably, the fight with Malphas is going to be the most dangerous part of this whole venture. But there’s still another war to be fought, and that’s keeping Ferion alive and protected. As we don’t have any idea if Malphas has spies in the Elven household, or how many, that’s my battleground.”
He flexed his hands, fiercely willing himself to not shapeshift. By sheer force of will, he kept his rigid expression from transforming and his talons from emerging.
He had gotten too focused on his hunt and had stopped thinking about anything else. A sneaky part of him had been too relieved that Bel wasn’t suited to a fight with Malphas, and he’d stopped considering anything further.
She would still be in danger, and he couldn’t be with her, or protect her.
As Melly had said, goddammit.
Goddammit.
While he struggled to maintain control, everyone seemed to speak at once as they laid plans. After the most brutally long, difficult wait of his life, events hurtled forward, faster than he could control.
The team that would attack Malphas needed a site where they could lay the trap. Rune and Constantine drew close to Graydon while they batted ideas back and forth. Their conversation snagged his attention. Focusing, he joined in.
On the one hand, it felt good to plot strategy with the other two gryphons. It felt right in a way that had everything to do with the centuries they had worked together in countless similar situations.
On the other hand, Graydon’s muscles jumped underneath his skin. He couldn’t stop staring at Bel as she was surrounded by the others, immersed in her own strategy meeting.
Once or twice, she looked toward him too. When their eyes met, it was with a shock of connection that knocked everything and everyone else aside.
He had to force himself to turn away and concentrate on the task at hand.
“Finding the right kind of venue is going to be tough,” Rune said, rubbing his jaw.
“It’s got to be in New York,” Graydon said. “Otherwise, with the masque so close, I don’t think Malphas will buy it.”
Constantine frowned, crossing his arms. “But it’s got to be away from other people. There has to be room for the fight, and no room for collateral damage.”
Rune released a frustrated sigh. “I agree, but that’s a very narrow set of requirements. If you want an abandoned warehouse area, there are a few places in Queens or in Brooklyn along the East River that might work.”
“No,” Graydon said. “That feels too risky.”
“What about the FDR Four Freedom memorial?” Constantine asked. “It’s on the tip of Roosevelt Island, and it closes overnight.”
“That’s a possibility,” Graydon said slowly.
But he didn’t like it, and he could see the same dissatisfaction on the other two men’s faces. Not only did the memorial close at night, but it was also winter – yet those factors only lessened the risk of possible harm to others. They didn’t negate it.
None of them really knew what kind of area the battle would cover. So much of that would hinge on whether or not Julian could maintain his hold and truly keep the Djinn grounded.
Constantine said, without much conviction, “Governors Island. Again, it’s closed to the public at night.”
Rubbing his neck, Graydon shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I don’t like it.”
Rune snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Hart Island.”
Graydon blew out a slow breath, as he thought about it. Hart Island was at the western end of the Long Island Sound. He could reach the island quickly and easily by air, so it was close enough to allay any suspicion.
Roughly a mile long, and a quarter of a mile across, Hart Island was also inaccessible to the public. Over a decidedly dark history, it had been a quarantine, an insane asylum, a workhouse for boys, a missile base, a Civil War prison camp, and a potter’s field – and now the island was the largest tax-funded cemetery in the world.
He bared his teeth in a hard smile. “I’m going to offer Malphas a wager. Who’s in?”
“Me,” said Julian. Beside him, Melly’s eyes filled, but she folded her lips tight and didn’t object.
Rune and Carling glanced at each other and nodded. Rune said, “We’re both in.”
“Fuck, yeah,” said Constantine. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“And I,” said Soren heavily. “I’ll also ensure we have Peacekeeper troops. They can maintain a perimeter, provide a backup assault, and help with – the aftermath.”
Soren meant they could help with the wounded and casualties. The room fell silent, as everyone absorbed his true message.
Claudia said, “Much as I hate to say it, Luis and I are outclassed and outgunned for the main fight, but we’re very willing to help with any backup you might need.”
“I’m afraid I can’t offer anything further, either,” Grace told them. “None of my skill set is suitable for this battle, and as Khalil has already said, I’m the guardian of two small children. I can’t put myself in danger. I’m out.”
“I can offer help,” Khalil said unexpectedly. As the others turned to stare at him in surprise, he added, “I won’t go into battle. That much is still true, but I can provide quick transportation if needed.”
Melly said between her teeth, “Goddammit.”
In a gentle voice, Julian told her, “You’re out.”
“I know.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “I know. Goddammit!”
The only one in the room who hadn’t spoken yet was Bel. Turning to her, Graydon saw that she was composed and calm again. A wave of tenderness washed over him. She didn’t have the skill set to fight a Djinn either.
When she spoke, she didn’t do as he expected and acknowledge that she was not suited for the upcoming battle.
Instead, she said, “Unquestionably, the fight with Malphas is going to be the most dangerous part of this whole venture. But there’s still another war to be fought, and that’s keeping Ferion alive and protected. As we don’t have any idea if Malphas has spies in the Elven household, or how many, that’s my battleground.”
He flexed his hands, fiercely willing himself to not shapeshift. By sheer force of will, he kept his rigid expression from transforming and his talons from emerging.
He had gotten too focused on his hunt and had stopped thinking about anything else. A sneaky part of him had been too relieved that Bel wasn’t suited to a fight with Malphas, and he’d stopped considering anything further.
She would still be in danger, and he couldn’t be with her, or protect her.
As Melly had said, goddammit.
Goddammit.
While he struggled to maintain control, everyone seemed to speak at once as they laid plans. After the most brutally long, difficult wait of his life, events hurtled forward, faster than he could control.
The team that would attack Malphas needed a site where they could lay the trap. Rune and Constantine drew close to Graydon while they batted ideas back and forth. Their conversation snagged his attention. Focusing, he joined in.
On the one hand, it felt good to plot strategy with the other two gryphons. It felt right in a way that had everything to do with the centuries they had worked together in countless similar situations.
On the other hand, Graydon’s muscles jumped underneath his skin. He couldn’t stop staring at Bel as she was surrounded by the others, immersed in her own strategy meeting.
Once or twice, she looked toward him too. When their eyes met, it was with a shock of connection that knocked everything and everyone else aside.
He had to force himself to turn away and concentrate on the task at hand.
“Finding the right kind of venue is going to be tough,” Rune said, rubbing his jaw.
“It’s got to be in New York,” Graydon said. “Otherwise, with the masque so close, I don’t think Malphas will buy it.”
Constantine frowned, crossing his arms. “But it’s got to be away from other people. There has to be room for the fight, and no room for collateral damage.”
Rune released a frustrated sigh. “I agree, but that’s a very narrow set of requirements. If you want an abandoned warehouse area, there are a few places in Queens or in Brooklyn along the East River that might work.”
“No,” Graydon said. “That feels too risky.”
“What about the FDR Four Freedom memorial?” Constantine asked. “It’s on the tip of Roosevelt Island, and it closes overnight.”
“That’s a possibility,” Graydon said slowly.
But he didn’t like it, and he could see the same dissatisfaction on the other two men’s faces. Not only did the memorial close at night, but it was also winter – yet those factors only lessened the risk of possible harm to others. They didn’t negate it.
None of them really knew what kind of area the battle would cover. So much of that would hinge on whether or not Julian could maintain his hold and truly keep the Djinn grounded.
Constantine said, without much conviction, “Governors Island. Again, it’s closed to the public at night.”
Rubbing his neck, Graydon shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I don’t like it.”
Rune snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Hart Island.”
Graydon blew out a slow breath, as he thought about it. Hart Island was at the western end of the Long Island Sound. He could reach the island quickly and easily by air, so it was close enough to allay any suspicion.
Roughly a mile long, and a quarter of a mile across, Hart Island was also inaccessible to the public. Over a decidedly dark history, it had been a quarantine, an insane asylum, a workhouse for boys, a missile base, a Civil War prison camp, and a potter’s field – and now the island was the largest tax-funded cemetery in the world.
