Page 102 of Runaway Magic
Marshall returned his smile with an equally exhausted one, squeezed Cym tightly against his chest for a moment, and then sighed heavily into his hair.
“Gods, Marshall, what the hell happened?” Adelle demanded as she, Jack, and Fourteen pounded to a stop a few feet away.
Fourteen took in Cym’s position in Marshall’s lap with narrowed eyes.
“Cym happened,” Marshall said, laughing shakily.
Dropping to his knees, Fourteen raked his eyes over Cym’s form, looking for injuries. When that wasn’t enough, he growled, “Give him to me,” and pushed Marshall’s arm firmly away with a shiny weapon.
“You got a new murder toy!” Cym said happily and jump-started his relocation by trying to throw himself into Fourteen’s arms. His mind and body were still wonky, so he failed spectacularly and flopped face-first into Fourteen’s chest. It was covered in glitter and Cym realized he was rubbing his face all over dead demon remains.
Well, at least it wasn’t blood.
“Easy, soldier, easy. I’m not getting in your way. He’s just tired, that’s all.” Marshall relinquished his hold and allowed Fourteen to take Cym from him.
Jack kneeled and took Marshall’s hand in his. He cocked his head and narrowed his gaze at Cym before turning back to Marshall and asking, “Cym did all of that?”
“He could have done twice that much and been fine. And don’t worry,” Marshall said as Adelle crouched to touch his other hand. “I’m not going to fade. Cym tapped into his stillbringer power before I had a chance to do something stupid.”
“Stupid, huh? Sounds like you.” Jack punched Marshall’s arm none-too-gently then turned to Cym, who was busy getting manhandled by Fourteen who seemed convinced Cym was sporting numerous secret injuries. “Good for you, I had a feeling you were special.”
“I knew he was,” Adelle said. Even after being in the middle of a warzone, she was the epitome of calm and far better groomed than she had any right to be. “Thank you for rescuing my brother from himself.”
Cym pressed his face against the now-familiar buzz of Fourteen’s jacket and said, “He wouldn’t have had to be here if it wasn’t for me.”
The stillness had receded from him entirely now. With its departure, all of Cym’s old insecurities had returned. Only a small, quiet part of him could remember now that they were merely illusions. It seemed like something he should explore further at some point, but for right now, he had a hard-earned snuggle he’d been promising himself.
“It’s our job to be here, and from where I’m sitting, you’re worth it,” Adelle said just a touch too forcefully. “Your family has a lot to answer for. Where is Elanor? Did she survive?”
Did Cym want her to have survived? He didn’t have the first clue. Before he could get too emotionally involved in the issue, he heard Jack say, “Over here.”
Cym stayed put and watched as Jack and Adelle went over to inspect a shivering mess of a human.
Jack poked her with a toe. “She’s alive,” Jack smirked and poked her again. “Look at you, you great big lump. You got away with being a sack of garbage for a long time, didn’t you?”
Hester didn’t move, or answer, but from where Cym stood, he could see her staring up at Jack and Adelle in terror.
Adelle pulled Jack away when it looked like he was going to continue poking Hester. “Stop it, dork, or the new Blaike patriarch is going to think you’re unprofessional.”
“The new what now?” Cym blurted. They weren’t talking about him, were they? No fucking way. Cym was a walking disaster disguised as a human being and should never be put in charge of anything larger than a decision involving dinner options.
He threw a panicked look at Fourteen and realized that Fourteen wasn’t following the conversation at all. Instead, he was looking at Cym like he was the only person there.
All of the exhaustion and stress slammed down on Cym at once. Fuck closure; Cym just wanted to leave. “Can you get me out of here?” he whispered to Fourteen.
Instead of answering, Fourteen simply turned and walked away with Cym in his arms.
“Hold up, Stillbringer,” Marshall called out in a tired voice.
Fourteen didn’t pause, but Cym tapped his chest and said, “Can you hang on a second and turn us around, please?”
Cym made sure to not make any statement to Fourteen that could be interpreted as a command. He’d already fucked up big time when he’d ordered Fourteen to retreat, and he didn’t want to make it worse. From now on, he was only asking Fourteen to do things until the man had his own autonomy back.
Fourteen complied wordlessly, but there was a glint of irritation in his eyes that told Cym he wasn’t being rolled by Cym’s handler status over him. He was complying reluctantly because he chose to.
Once they reached Marshall, Cym announced, “Marshall, if you call me Stillbringer one more time without explaining what it means, I am going to go fucking feral on you.”
“Later, short stack. Let’s deal with this crap bag first,” Jack called, giving Hester one final poke before allowing Adelle to drag him out of poking range.
