Iron and Magic (The Iron Covenant #1)(84)

“Get the hell out of my room,” Hugh growled.

Lamar grinned and headed for the door.

A stray thought hit him. “How long did you say the magic’s been down?” Hugh called.

“I didn’t. It crashed the evening after you stabilized, about ten hours after your fight with Medrano.”

Lamar kept moving.

If the magic had been down for most of the three days, Elara couldn’t have walked through his dreams.

Did he imagine the whole thing? It felt sharp and real, the same way it felt when she had first let herself into his head.

He had never seen her in the kitchen. He’d been in her bedroom when she patched him up, but he couldn’t see that side of the room from where he’d sat.

Ten minutes later, dressed and showered, he crossed the hallway and knocked on Elara’s door. No answer. He tried the door handle. It turned in his hand. Hugh walked in. The bedroom stood empty. He picked his way along the familiar route to the far wall and turned left. A kitchen nook greeted him. The same island, the same stove, the same fridge. He pulled the refrigerator door open, knowing what he would find inside.

A plate rested on the middle shelf, holding a stack of crepes.

Hugh stared at it.

It was real. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night, walked here, and told her all that stupid shit. She’d warned him, but he spilled it all out, like an idiot, giving her all the ammunition she would ever need. He stood there, like some starving dog, whining to be let inside. She’d practically had to shove him out of her room.

Pathetic.

It happened.

Everything would change now. They had a back and forth and he fucked it up. If he walked down there and saw pity on her face, it would kill him.

For a long moment he stood there, numb, until finally some cold emotion took hold of him. He puzzled over it and recognized it. He felt cold, crystalline anger. He let it wash over him, freezing every inconvenient emotion he had.

He was the Preceptor of the Iron Dogs. His wife was serving breakfast to a man who tried to kill him. A man who was still a threat.

It was his job to neutralize threats.

He would attend.





He knew.

Elara gripped her fork tighter. One moment the doorway to the sunroom was empty, the next Hugh loomed in it, and instantly she realized he knew the conversation in her kitchen happened. His blue eyes were iced over. Cedric sat by his feet, wagging his tail.

He walked over to her.

She had no idea what he would do. At the table, Andrea and Raphael went still.

Hugh leaned over her. His lips brushed her cheek. It was about as dry and emotionless as rubbing chalk over her skin.

She conjured up a smile. “You’re finally up.”

“You know me, I need my beauty rest.”

His voice was warm, the hint of a smile tugging on his lips was just right, but his eyes were hard.

She took his hand and held it in hers. “I was worried.”

He freed his hand. He did it smoothly, and an observer wouldn’t have been able to tell, but she felt it. He didn’t want her touching him.

“I’m sorry. I won’t worry you again.” He’d sunken some awful finality into those words.

Hugh picked a chair next to her and sat. The big dog sprawled at his feet.

Raphael and Andrea were looking at Hugh like both he and Cedric had gone rabid. She’d reached a comfortable balance with the shapeshifters over the last three days. Given time, she would win them over, but none of it mattered. It all hinged on what would come out of Hugh’s mouth next.

The silence hung over the table, ominous and heavy.

Hugh frowned.

She tensed. The shapeshifters leaned forward slightly.

“Where is the bacon?”

She exhaled, got up, lifted the lid off a platter, and set the huge plate of cooked bacon and sausage in front of him.

Hugh filled his plate, took a gulp of coffee, and paused for a moment, savoring it. “Makes me feel almost human.”

“Are we going to talk about it?” Raphael asked.

Hugh set the mug down and faced him. “I’m sorry my soldiers killed your mother.”

There it is. Elara held her breath.

“I respected your mother,” Hugh said. “She was a leader and she led from the front. She died because she wanted to buy you time. I didn’t dislike her, and I didn’t specifically want her to die. Daniels was the target. But your mother and I were on opposite sides, and anything that weakened the Pack was judged to be good for Roland’s cause. She was dangerous, powerful, and popular and she exercised a great deal of influence over Lennart and Daniels and the Pack in general. Her death left a big gap in your power lineup. So I would be lying if I said that killing her wasn’t a victory at the time. However, I no longer support Roland’s causes. I deeply regret her death and the pain I caused you and your family.”

Andrea exhaled quietly.

“I understand why you attacked me,” Hugh said, cutting a pancake with his fork. “I get it. It was fair. It’s done now. Each of us has a wife and people we are responsible for and our business interests intersect. We can continue to work together, we can look for alternative business partners, or we can kill each other. Figure out what do you want to do.”

Raphael leaned back, his face calm. “By my count, I killed you four times during that fight. How are you still alive?”