Dead Man's Deal The Asylum Tales - By Jocelynn Drake Page 0,43
up?”
“Possibly. But I think she’s more interested in you.”
“Then I take it she knows what I was?”
Eldon smiled at me; a cold, evil thing that made my skin crawl. “Was? You don’t ever stop being one of them no matter what you do. And, yes, she knows what you are.”
“Thank you, Eldon,” Trixie interjected, trying to defuse some of the tension. I kept my mouth shut rather than adding to it. There wasn’t much I could say. Witches and warlocks had brought the elves close to extinction during the Great War; not exactly something that is easily forgiven or ever forgotten. I may not have been the one killing elves, but I was counted as one of that race and that was condemning enough.
“You know you could avoid this need to meet with the queen,” Eldon said, looking over at his sister.
“I’m not going to him. There has to be another way.”
“I don’t see it if there is.” He started walking into the woods, his shirt pulling out of Trixie’s grasp.
“How’s my niece?” Trixie called in a voice that slightly wavered.
Eldon didn’t look back as he continued to walk away. “Waiting to meet her aunt.”
Trixie laid her head against my shoulder and sighed. She was in a shitty position. Leaving the Summer Court had made her an outcast among her people. She’d never seen her only niece and she’d been at odds with her brother for centuries. Adding to her problems was that she’d chosen to align herself with a warlock—the most hated of creatures in this world. Even if she did win her freedom from the king, it was highly unlikely her people were ever going to welcome her back. Certainly not with me hanging on her arm.
I squeezed Trixie’s waist, pressing her tightly against me. “We’ll figure this out,” I whispered against her hair. Trixie looked up at me and nodded, but there was no accompanying smile. I had a sick feeling that her thoughts were traveling in the same direction as mine, which didn’t bode well for our relationship. I couldn’t blame her. Bronx and I were family and friends as much as we could be, but blood ran so much deeper.
Well, at least that was true for everyone but witches and warlocks. We didn’t give a shit about each other beyond how we could use one another. But there was a comfort in having something in common with another people. Whether I wanted to admit to that comfort was another matter altogether when it came to the Ivory Towers.
“Let’s get going,” I said, releasing her so we could walk between the trees to the car.
I followed her through the thin strip of woods toward the car, both of us silent as we remained lost in our own thoughts. I wanted to think of something brilliant that would fix all of this, but the wheels in my brain kept slipping. The stress of dealing with Reave, trying to think of a way to free Bronx, protect my brother, and extricate Trixie from her problems with the king of the Summer Court had left me with a brain that felt like mush.
As the car came into view, Trixie slowed her step as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She had put it on vibrate after we left the car and started walking toward George’s house.
“Hey, Bronx,” Trixie greeted when she answered the call. “Everything okay at the shop?” Her voice sounded weary to me, but there was a little relief in it, as if the promise of moving her thoughts to Bronx and the shop seemed to lighten the load on her mind.
I pulled my keys out of my pocket and clicked the remote to unlock the doors, only half listening to Trixie’s side of the conversation. I wasn’t expecting much to happen at Asylum. I had put in my usual shift and I had pulled Trixie out only a few hours early. Bronx was supposed to have a light load for the rest of the night and he was accustomed to working alone.
“We’re getting to the car now and heading back toward you. You need us at the shop?” I stopped beside Trixie as she paused in the act of reaching for the door handle, a frown pulling at her lips as her eyes jumped to my face. “He’s right here with me. I’ll tell him. Thanks.”