Tempest’s Fury (Jane True #5)

Tempest’s Fury (Jane True #5) Page 23

I called one last time, with all my need, all my fear…

But I was just as surprised as Graeme when, with my right arm, I raised the double-headed ax between us.

“What the fuck?” he hissed, as I laughed uncontrollably, relief flooding through me so powerfully I nearly went to my knees.

Being on your knees in front of Graeme, however, was not a good idea, so I chose the more sensible route: I called out to the ax with my power, watching as it lit up, its own power lapping eagerly at me like a joyous retriever.

I missed you too, I thought. Now let’s get rid of this bad man.

Graeme had let go of my wrist and had backed up a step when the labrys appeared. Then he’d backed up again when it lit up. In fact, he was backed up all the way against the door that led off the train.

“It was nice seeing you, Graeme,” I said. “Do remember to mind the gap.”

And with that I punched, hard, with one wave of power at the button that opened the train’s door. Sparks flew from it as it must have shorted out. At the same time, I punched with another wave of power right at Graeme’s shields.

Suddenly unbalanced as the door behind him was forced open by my magic, I didn’t really need to shove that hard to push him off the train. Not that I was sorry for doing so as I watched his body arc through the air. Walking forward to poke my head out of the open door, my hair whipping around my face, I watched with a feeling of immense satisfaction as Graeme landed with a thud a good distance from the train track.

I backed away from the door, then, and hit the button that made it close. They did, and suddenly the little room was completely quiet. Only then did it hit me what had just occurred.

I had kicked Graeme’s ass.

I had kicked Graeme, my nemesis’s, ass.

And it had felt so good.

First I did a ridiculous happy dance. Then, hugging the labrys carefully to my chest, I let it feel how grateful I was. It seemed to respond, in its way, and I felt a tingle of satisfied power rush through me. I was just about to rush back to the others and let them know that I, Jane True, had just kicked Graeme’s ass, when I realized that I still had to pee, only now I had an enormous ax to contend with. I let it feel my frustration, then watched as it melted away. When I panicked and called back to it, fearing I’d somehow offended or rejected it, it reappeared in my hand.

I grinned when I realized what was going on. I not only had a weapon, I had a clever weapon.

Experimentally I dismissed it again, and it dutifully disappeared. Again I called for it, and there it was. I dismissed it once more, and then headed through the inner doors to where the bathroom was. Once inside the bathroom, I called for it again. Despite having moved locations, it came to me there in the bathroom. I was so happy I kissed it, feeling a warm tingle in my lips where there should have been cold steel. I dismissed it one last time, finally relieved my aching bladder, and then went back to rejoin my friends.

They were all as I’d left them, somehow oblivious to what had occurred. Graeme’s shields must have been really strong, and I think that once the labrys had shown up it had taken over for them. Lucky for me, it was better at this game than I was.

I sat down across from Blondie and next to Anyan, trying to keep my face neutral.

Then I made the labrys appear on the table. They all hissed with relief, although Blondie didn’t look at all that surprised to see it.

“Told you it wouldn’t lose you,” she said.

“Yes, well, you were right. Also, the creature spoke to me. It’s already back asleep but it seems that if I really freak out it feels it.”

“Why’d you freak out? Bathroom that awful?” Anyan asked, obviously torn between worry and confusion at how even a train bathroom could be so bad my fear of it could wake an immortal being from its sleep.

“The bathroom wasn’t nice, but it was more the fact I ran into Graeme that did it.”

“You ran into Graeme?” Anyan asked, sharply.

“That I did.”

“What? Are you okay?”

The table went silent, but I was only seeing Anyan by that point. His iron-grey eyes were so worried.

“I kicked his ass, Anyan. Like, totally kicked it. Like, I can’t believe I kicked it so hard. It was awesome.”

I knew I was babbling like an idiot, but Anyan was grinning as if I’d brought home a trophy.

“Did I mention I totally kicked Graeme’s ass?” I concluded, lamely, my own smile growing to match the barghest’s. Anyan’s kiss was so fierce it took me by surprise. But even more shocking, to me, was just how proud I felt when he said his next words.

“And you say you’re not a hero.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

My evening swim at Brighton Beach was heavenly. Rocky as hell, but heavenly.

The moonlight was strong, casting shadows over the pebbles as I stood there, counting crows. Well, only one crow. Magog was my babysitter for that evening. She was obviously not impressed with my love of the water, and sat huddled inside her massive coat with her wings shifting around her like she had anacondas hidden under her clothes.

The others were strategizing and reaching out to various contacts, trying to cobble together some extra help. Gog was on his way with four other rebels, but we knew we needed more.

Graeme, after all, had seen me on the train to Brighton, which meant we couldn’t count on the element of surprise to be on our side.

Instead, we needed greater numbers, a good plan, and hopefully for Hiral to come through as our man on the inside. That said, we’d not heard bupkes from the gwyllion since he’d let us know where Morrigan had holed up.

I took that time to swim and swim and swim, partly out of necessity as I needed to be strong, but also partly because it was the first time I’d seen the ocean since arriving in London. Granted, I’d only been here a few days, but I missed the sea.

So I frolicked, and charged up my powers, and generally tried to relax. I felt like all I’d done ever since I woke up from that coma was to run around like a headless chicken, but here in the water it felt like I had some time to myself and that things would wait for me, on land, till I was good and ready for them.

That feeling of security was an illusion, of course, and when I did finally walk up the beach, I found Blondie waiting impatiently for me.

“We’ve gotta go,” she said. “You’re needed.”

Automatically, I touched that little part in my mind where I could feel the ax waiting for me to call it forth. I wondered where it actually was, like on another plane or something, before I reminded myself that down such roads lay madness.

“Did Hiral contact you? Are we going in?” I asked, instead of thinking about the labrys’s secrets.

“He did. And it’s not good. It seems that Morrigan’s getting ready to move out tomorrow. And she definitely knows we’re here—Hiral saw Graeme arrive at the estate. But she doesn’t seem to care.”

“And that’s bad?” I asked.

“It tells me she knows something we don’t about either their strength, or their numbers, or something. They’ve got something they’re hiding—something powerful—’cause even Morrigan wouldn’t be that arrogant.”

I thought about the strong, sexy Morrigan I’d seen at the market. She seemed so changed from the Morrigan at the Compound, but that Morrigan had been a lie. She’d been posing as your typical Alfar for the gods knew how long… we knew nothing of the real woman underneath the facade that had fooled us for so long.

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head slowly and voicing my thoughts. “Maybe she is that arrogant. We don’t know the real Morrigan at all, do we?”

Blondie shrugged. “True. But we can’t make any assumptions. We need to plan and we need to motivate. We’ve rounded up a bunch of fighters, and Gog’s brought in our own people from London. But they need a pep talk.”

“And you want me to hear it?” I asked.

“No,” Blondie said, “I want you to give it.”

And with that she was striding towards the street at the top of the beach, where Gog waited in the little white van. I followed behind, demanding to know what Blondie meant by me giving the troops a pep talk.

She ignored my questions till we were in the van, and then Gog took off, darting through darkening evening streets.

Only then did she turn to face me.

“Our people need to see you, Jane. They need to know you’re on our side and that you’re ready. They need to see the champion.”

My first reaction was to tell her she was nuts, but then I realized that was my purpose, after all. I was a figurehead—this operation’s Joan of Arc, minus the martyring (hopefully). But still, I was Jane True… who the hell was going to be inspired by me?

“Are you sure they’ll care?” I asked. “I mean, I don’t exactly look like a champion…”

“Nonsense,” Blondie said. “Already people know about the things you did, outing Jarl. And they know the story of the champion, and they’ll recognize the power of the ax.”

I frowned at Blondie, not believing her.