Page 97 of Samhain Savior
“I’m not looking to leave town with him, Murmur—” Archer started, but she cut him off.
“Call me Mex. Murmur is such a fucking mouthful.”
“Mex. I have no intention of taking him anywhere. I simply need to inquire as to the location of a relic that was apparently given into his care. I need to find it.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” She set her glass down, leaning forward in the chair to point a finger at Archer. “Why do fucks like you always think you can just stroll downhere and stomp your feet to get what you want? If that relic you’re after is inmytown, it’s probably here for a reason. Magic runs through the very veins of this city, Archer. Something your spoiled northern ass knows nothing about. There is power here, more than anywhere else on this dusty continent, and it is my sworn duty to protect it.” She narrowed her eyes, staring him down with absolutely no fear. “Even from you.”
I could feel it, the way Archer began to rise to her challenge, his anger quickly bubbling up and overtaking any of the other emotions I was privy to through the bond. It was like a wave of rage crashing over me, and for a moment, I wanted to attack Mex myself.
She was threatening my mate; I had to stop her. It was like a biological imperative that was nearly impossible to resist.
But resist I did.
“Stop!” I shouted, standing and slamming my palms down on the table. As I did, all of the unoccupied chairs at the table slid backward, shoved by a blast of power I didn’t even know I was using.
“Alright,cher,” Mex said after a beat, looking at me with what appeared to be a touch more respect. “Not need to get sassy.”
I could feel my cheeks heating, embarrassed at my obvious lack of control over my newfound powers, and moved on before anyone could say anything more about my latest little outburst.
“We mean no harm,” I said, my voice loud and strong—much stronger than I felt, even with Archer’s emotions filling me. “We want nothing more than to protect the relic. It’s being hunted, and if they find it before we do, then we’ll all have much bigger problems than a little ego stroking from either of you.”
It was silent, except for Vine’s low chuckle as he muttered, “Stroke,” under his breath. I glanced his way and he threw me a cheeky wink that had me biting my lips together to keep in my smile.
“The Order of the Broken Veil has no respect for you or the citizens under your care.”
“The Order?” Mex asked, eyes wide. “You’re certain?”
“Yes.” I nodded, slowly retaking my seat. “Absolutely.”
“We’ve encountered them twice,” Archer said, picking up the discussion, this time with a much cooler head. “And both times they left nothing but destruction in their wake. If what they are after is indeed hidden in New Orleans, then they will not hesitate to tear through your city to find it.”
Mex frowned, looking toward the blacked out windows as though she could see the streets outside.
“This city has been through enough,” she said quietly. “The last thing I want is to force people to start rebuilding again.” Turning back to us, she added, “I want peace, Archer. Don’t we deserve it? After all this time?”
She sounded desperate, her words strained with the weight of exhaustion that probably extended back farther than most recorded histories. It was something I was slowly coming to grips with: the fact that the people I was surrounding myself with had experienced countless lifetimes of tragedy and struggle, more than I could even hope to understand.
It was sobering to consider.
So was the thought that each and every one of them would outlive me by a long shot, but I wasn’t prepared to start thinking aboutthatquite yet.
“You do, Mex,” Archer said. “We all do. And that’s what we’re trying to achieve, but to do that, we need your help.”
“What exactly is it you’re after?”
Archer looked at me, then the rest of his brothers in turn, a silent conversation passing between them before he turned back to Mex and answered her.
“The Fallen Key.”
“Holy Hell, Archer,” she breathed, sitting back again and running a hand along the back of her neck. “You really don’t do anything by halves, do you?”
“We already have one piece,” he added, making her mouth pop open in surprise. “And we had to battle the Storm-bringer just to get that one. The other was apparently sent here by a Guardian for safe keeping. If the Order discovers its whereabouts, I assure you they will stop at nothing to get their hands on it.”
“The Storm-bringer is free? How did he manage to escape the Void?”
“I wish I knew.”
Mex sat there, one painted nail tracing the rim of her now empty glass, as she stared at him, likely weighing the truth of his answers. Finally, she spoke.
