Dead of Winter (The Arcana Chronicles #3)(56)

He turned back toward me, curling his forefinger under my chin. “I was fine.”

“Don’t brush this aside.”

“I can take care of myself. And I can protect you just as good as Death can. Provide, too. He only had a head start, non?”

Jack had risked his life to prove a point? Was the chip on his shoulder back?

“That bastard knew the Flash was coming and got his ducks in a row. Just give me time.”

“Don’t risk yourself like that again.”

He dropped his hand at my no-bullshit tone. “I can’t make that promise. We doan know what we might head into.”

“Uh-uh. No. You don’t get to take chances like that anymore. People depend on you. If I sign on with you—and that’s a big if—you promised to earn my trust. You can’t do that if you’re dead. Maybe you do have a death wish?”

He rolled his eyes. “I doan have a—”

“Promise me you won’t take any more unnecessary risks.”

He opened his mouth to argue; must’ve seen I wasn’t having it. “Fine. I promise. Satisfied, you?”

At length, I nodded.

“Then come on. Let’s finish clearing this place.” He led me back downstairs.

Now that we’d closed the exterior doors, the first floor had warmed up, hot air chugging from the vents. In the kitchen, I checked the pantry, found it stocked with canned and boxed goods.

When Aric joined us there, Jack glowered. “Thought you wouldn’t darken our door for a longer spell.”

“Do recall that I possess superhuman speed. I also had time to move all the bodies outside in order to ward off unwanted visitors.” He’d had the same idea as Jack. “After securing the horses, I hastened to get back to my wife.”

“You keep calling her that, but if some fille tried to murder me on my wedding night, I’d think twice about my nuptials.”

Aric’s eyes narrowed.

I got between them. “Shouldn’t we search the rest of the house? The garage is left.”

After a tense moment, Jack started forward. As if by silent agreement, he and Aric kept me in the middle.

When we entered the laundry room, the washing machine was changing cycles. “Why would the boss use so much electricity? With the floodlights and the heater and all these appliances, he’d have to keep generators running full-time.”

“The man probably knows his fuel will turn soon,” Aric said.

“Turn?”

Jack answered, “Gasoline lasts just a year or two.”

“What?” I should have savored electricity more at Death’s!

“It only lasts that long,” Aric said blithely, “unless one had special additives infused into his stores.” To me, he added, “Ours will be preserved for well over fifty years.”

Jack drew up short, turning to face us. “The military’s additives doan extend it more than five years.”

“In the U.S.? I bought the technology from overseas.”

“How many barrels you got?” Jack eyed him so keenly I figured Aric was due for a break-in soon.

“Barrels? None. I have tankers.”

Jack scrubbed his hand over his chin with a hungry look. But there was also a hint of something else—surely not a grudging respect?

Aric gazed down at me. “Your dance studio will always be lit, as will your art studio. The libraries, of course. The pool will be heated as long as we live. Who needs the sun, when we have acres of sunlamps?”

My eyes darted to Jack. I could give him all the time in the world, and no matter how hard he worked, he could never match the situation at Aric’s. I thought Jack was coming to the same conclusion right at that moment.

“The Empress didn’t tell you what her new life was like?” Aric said. “How she was indulged in every way? She enjoyed fresh food daily and a cook to prepare it. She slept in her warm bed in a lavish tower filled with a new wardrobe and every imaginable amenity.”

Jack hadn’t been a fan of rich people before the Flash. I didn’t see that changing just because of the apocalypse.

“She had time to read and draw. In fact”—Aric leaned in, holding Jack’s gaze—“she used to dance for me every day.”

That muscle ticked in Jack’s jaw. He looked as pissed as he had when Aric first called me “wife.” But then Jack rallied: “It wasn’t like that at first, no. All that came after you got into her head. You think this ain’t Stockholm syndrome?”

“The symptoms are there.”

Jack blinked at Aric’s frankness. “Why doan you tell me what you did after you abducted her? Evie refuses to.”

“Very well. I made her walk for leagues, barefoot, coatless, and freezing. She was bound, so she couldn’t break her falls. All the while she never knew if or when I would kill her.” Aric’s bearing wasn’t proud by any means, but he seemed determined to own up to the wrongs he’d done.

It struck me; this was what forthrightness looked like.

He wasn’t finished. “I laughed when she mourned you and insulted her as often as possible. I blunted her powers with a cilice that cut into her arm every hour of every day. To get free of it, she had to persuade Fauna to claw her flesh off.”

My glyphs stirred as I remembered that pain.