Page 3

Of course everything had gone to shit.

Of course it had.

The moment he’d seen Rory straighten up with an all-too-familiar look of outrage and all the subtlety and good sense of an angry bull, Wesley was already pivoting. Tommy was reaching into his coat for his gun, but Wesley was faster, jabbing him in the stomach with the bottle of rum.

“Oof.” Tommy grunted loudly, doubling over, and Wesley followed the blow with a hard kick to his leg. The man hit the dock just as Wesley heard a splash and Sebastian’s panicked shout echoed up from the boat.

“Rory!”

Fuck. It could always get worse, because Rory might have the power of the wind but he couldn’t fucking swim.

Wesley bent and snatched up the gun out of Tommy’s jacket, straightening just in time to see Sebastian shoving Lenny aside. A second later, Sebastian’s heavy coat was off his shoulders and he was diving headfirst into the Hudson after Rory.

Wesley didn’t have time to even attempt to process the feelings that flooded him; down in the boat, Lenny was scrambling up to his feet and pulling out another gun, his gaze on the shape of Sebastian gliding under the gray river water.

Wesley was moving again without thinking. Tommy was starting to stand, so Wesley kicked him straight off the pier and into the water. He’d be able to swim to the ladder and climb out, but it bought Wesley the seconds he needed to cock the gun in his hands.

“Drop the gun,” he barked at Lenny down in the boat.

Lenny ignored him. Out in the river, the surface was breaking, and Lenny was bringing the gun up.

Wesley fired a shot into the bottle of counterfeit liquor at the man’s feet, which shattered, spraying the bottom of the boat with glass.

Lenny froze.

“Drop the fucking gun,” Wesley said, through clenched teeth, “or the next one goes between your eyes.”

Lenny held up his hands. But he hadn’t dropped the weapon. Down in the water, Tommy had reached the ladder. In a moment, he’d be back on the pier.

“Tommy only had one bullet left in that gun,” said Lenny. “And you just wasted it.”

Wesley refused to flinch, keeping the gun steady and trained on Lenny. “Are you willing to bet your life on that?”

Lenny hesitated.

In the river, two heads surfaced: Rory in front, eyes closed and missing his glasses and hat; Sebastian behind him, arms around Rory’s torso and keeping his nose and mouth above the water line.

Sebastian was a strong swimmer, but Rory would be like an anvil with the weight of a soaked winter coat, in a river temperature akin to ice water.

They weren’t going to be dodging bullets in their state; how long could they last?

Behind him, in the parking lot, he heard more voices. Shit. Did the bootleggers have reinforcements? Was Wesley really out of bullets?

Tommy was cresting the top of the ladder onto the pier. In the boat, Lenny grinned. “I think we got friends coming.”

“Not yours. Theirs.”

Wesley had only a moment to register the shock of relief that Jade’s voice brought before an invisible force swept across the pier.

The gun flew out of Lenny’s hand and into the Hudson just as Tommy appeared to be dragged by an invisible hand on his trouser leg and thrown bodily into the boat next to Lenny.

A moment later, the ropes around the crates had unwrapped themselves and were twining around Lenny and Tommy like snakes.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tommy said, eyes wide.

“You shouldn’t sample your wares, it’ll make you see funny things.” Wesley’s eyes were on the figures struggling in the river. “Miss Robbins, I don’t know why you’re here instead of at the hospital with Mr. Findlay, but if I could beg of you—”

“I’ve got them.” Jade’s hand was up as she scrambled with impressively quick steps down the pier in her ruffled coat and dainty high heels.

Sebastian and Rory were already gliding through the water as if she’d grabbed them by the scruff of their collars and bodily yanked them back toward shore.

“I’ll fill you in on Alasdair momentarily; let’s get these two safe first.”

A moment later, they were flying out of the water and landing on the pier at Wesley’s feet. Wesley heard Sebastian’s grunt of pain as his back hit the wooden dock, his arms still gripping tightly to Rory.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jade said hastily, as she joined them. “I’m still getting the hang of how strong the magic is now with this brooch relic. Is everyone all right?”

Wesley had already dropped to a crouch next to Sebastian and Rory on the pier, reaching for Rory’s wrist to check his pulse. “Brodigan, are you—”

Rory abruptly coughed, rolled off Sebastian and onto his side, and vomited river water all over Wesley’s shoes.

“—alive,” Wesley finished. “Yes. It would seem you are.”

“Ugh.” Rory made a face. “Sorry, Fine.”

“Better my shoes than your lungs.” Wesley’s heart was still pounding too fast. Sebastian’s eyes were open at least, a little hazy as he coughed himself. Down in the boat, Lenny and Tommy were securely hogtied and—hang on. “Miss Robbins, did you gag our would-be assailants with their own neckties?”

“Useful trick I picked up, a few years back.” Jade was kneeling on the decrepit dock in her fashionable trousers at Rory and Sebastian’s other side. “What on earth happened?”

“Assholes tried to swindle you.” Rory pointed with a wavering hand. “They didn’t like getting caught.”

“What Brodigan means is that when he discovered their attempted subterfuge, he lost his temper and ran his mouth and we found ourselves in a fight,” Wesley said, with an edge. “And one of said arseholes shoved him into the river.”

Jade raised her eyebrows.

“Something like that,” Rory said weakly.

“Oh, Rory.” Jade bent to wrap him in a sisterly hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right. You’re terribly lucky Sebastian and Lord Fine were here.”

And now she was leaning across to squeeze Sebastian, who gave her a tired but real smile.

“Yes, and you know, that’s actually another way to say Sebastian flung himself into the river so that when he was shot, he could conveniently sink his own body to the bottom of the Hudson for our assailants,” Wesley said, again too sharp.

Ugh, he had feelings rattling about his chest, knocking into his hard heart. Unacceptable.

Sebastian turned his head to look up at Wesley. “But we were safe because you had our backs.”

“Put the doe eyes away; they don’t work on me,” Wesley lied. He slid his overcoat off his shoulders. “Here—”

“Put it on Rory,” Sebastian said firmly. “My coat is dry in the boat and his lips are blue.”

“What color do you think yours are?” Wesley said, but he was passing the coat over to Jade, because Rory was shivering so hard his teeth were chattering and Wesley didn’t actually want him suffering either.

Jade helped Rory sit up as Sebastian’s coat came sailing through the air and landed in Wesley’s lap. Christ, telekinesis was useful.

Jade turned to the empty air at her side.

“We take them straight to the Magnolia, I think,” she said, as she wrapped Wesley’s coat around Rory’s shoulders while Wesley mirrored her actions with Sebastian, getting him upright with the coat around him.

“Ace is going to cast a kitten no matter where we take them; we’ve got to get them warm and the club is closest.”

“Call the bulls first and have them come get these assholes,” Rory said to the same empty patch of air. “I’m fine, don’t make Ace worry until—” He groaned. “You’re already on the phone with him?”

Ah. Mr. Zhang must have been there as well, somewhere on the astral plane.

A small movement from Sebastian caught Wesley’s eyes. He was staring at Jade and Rory, his expression unreadable.

Oh. Of course. Sebastian had also figured out that Zhang was here.

And Sebastian still couldn’t see him anymore.

But before Wesley could think of something to say that might be comforting—or at least not add salt to the wound—Sebastian was turning to him. “At least without my magic, I’m not blocking Zhang from finding us anymore.”

He said it casually, like that was fine, or perhaps like he was determined to make it fine whether it really was or not.

Wesley didn’t push. “I don’t care if there are twenty Mr. Zhangs with us on the astral plane right now, you caused me to nearly experience emotions and that’s unforgiveable,” Wesley murmured, but his hand had shot out of its own accord to touch Sebastian’s, wrapping ice-cold fingers in his own and squeezing.

Rory was touching his face and bare head, the soaked blond curls that hung limply dripping. “Aw damn,” he said, sounding disappointed all the way to his heart. “My hat. That’s the one from Ace—”

But Jade had her eyes closed again. A moment later, two small items came whipping across the pier to fall in front of Rory: a pair of glasses, and a sopping-wet newsboy cap. “The cap’s going to need a wash,” Jade started. “But—”

“You’re the best.” Rory had snatched up the hat before even the glasses. “You too, Zhang. I don’t know how you found these in the river.”

“Oh my goodness.” A voice much like Jade’s, but even more musical, floated down from the top of the dock. “It’s freezing and they’re soaked.”

Wesley glanced up. A stunningly lovely woman with the same russet-brown skin and bright eyes as Jade was coming down the pier in a slinky sheath dress and large fur coat, looking every inch the star she was as she picked her way down the dock in heels even higher than Jade’s.

Behind Stella was a woman with a short blond bob, dressed in trousers and flat shoes. Sasha, Stella’s bodyguard and girlfriend.

As she approached, Sasha was looking into the boat that held the gagged and hogtied Lenny and Tommy.

“Who are these two?” she said, her voice a bit deeper than Stella’s, with a noticeable Russian accent.

“The knots look very skilled; this must be your work, Jade. Are we worried they are going to tell people what they saw? You want me to handle them?”