"Ouch," I said mildly, touching a finger to the edge of the blade. "You play rough, big brother."
The gray eyes, a memory of what mine had been, narrowed, but Nik remained silent as he let go of my wrist, retrieved my gun, and tossed it far into the bushes. He had sat up confidently without the gingerly motion I would expect from a cracked rib or two. Stoic, hiding his pain, both the physical and the mental. The knife didn't shift in position as he moved, not even a millimeter.
"What would Mom say about all this?" I clucked my tongue in rebuke. "Oh, I know. That she should've drowned me at birth. And you know what? She'd have been right." Leaning forward purposely, I felt the blade press harder against my chest. Slowly, I took off my sunglasses and dropped them to the grass. Pewter eyes met silver. "You know something else, Nik?" Placing a hand over his, I playfully pulled at the dagger until it buried itself just a shade deeper in me. "You don't have the balls."
"Maybe he doesn't, you misbegotten nightmare, but I do." Goodfellow's voice came behind me, sharply furious. A hand buried itself in my hair and yanked me backward. On the ground in a position that echoed the one Niko had just occupied, I looked up to see Robin, the worse for wear. His coat was shredded as well as his sweater. Bloody gashes crossed his chest and his eyes were dilated black with rage. It was the same rage that had his sword swinging toward my throat so fast I could all but hear the air hiss in its wake. It occurred to me that I might have made a slight miscalculation. Niko would hesitate to kill me outright, for Cal's sake. Goodfellow didn't have any such problem. He might have liked Cal, sure, but I was pretty certain he liked himself a whole lot more. With him, sympathy was going to take a backseat to self-preservation every time. It was the son of a bitch's one good quality. It was too bad the one thing I admired about him was the one that could get me killed.
Could, but not necessarily would.
Niko came through, protecting me just as he'd always done. Deflecting Robin's blade at the last second with his own, he said quietly, "No."
Panting with exertion and frustration, Robin turned and looked over at Niko, who now stood with an arm held unconsciously close to his side in a protective gesture. He could try to hide it all he wanted, but I had hurt him, even if only a little. Hopefully, I'd be able to hurt him a lot more… hurt him unto death.
Goodfellow kept the point of his sword hovering above my neck. "Nik, you have to see. You have to realize." Calming slightly, his breath slowing, he continued almost unwillingly. "Your brother, he wouldn't want to live like this. Everything I've seen of him, everything you've told me… he would hate it. He would despise it with all his soul."
I relaxed against the grass, putting my hands behind my head and raising my eyebrows." 'Nik'? 'Everything you've told me'?" I repeated with cynical incredulity. "You two have gotten awfully cozy since I've been gone. You haven't dumped Promise already, have you, big brother? Please, God, at least tell me it wasn't some sort of clichéd affirmation-of-life thing. I'll save you the trouble of shish-kebabing me and just die of embarrassment instead."
"I'd advise you to leave Promise out of this, much in the way you did not leave Georgina out of it." Niko regarded me impassively. "What we did to your friends we could easily do to you. I don't believe Cal would hold a thorough beating against us, considering the situation."
"My furry flunkies." I mimed wiping away a tear. "My walking throw rugs are no more. Ah, well, I couldn't afford their dental anyway. At least tell me they managed to gnaw on Georgie some. Give me that. Did they chomp on a nose? An ear? Hell, a pinkie? I'll take that."
That didn't settle well with either of them. The only giveaway as to what Niko felt was his face becoming more and more set, until it resembled a carved stone statue. Goodfellow was somewhat more demonstrative, his hand tightening on his sword and his jaw white with tension. "She's but a girl, Darkling," the puck said with acid disgust. "A child."
"A human child," I replied with a curl of my lip. "And the best part about them is they're so much easier to kill." Turning my head, I scanned the area for Boggle. There was no sign of him. If that cowardly shit had run off, he was going to be one sorry son of a bitch. Looking back at Robin, I held up my hands thumb to thumb and framed him. The blood, the torn flesh, the destroyed clothing, all courtesy of my MIA mud pie. "Who's your tailor, Goodfellow? I'm loving your new look. Damned spiffy."
That was nearly the straw that broke the camel's back. Niko had to use more force this time to keep Robin from sheathing his sword in my neck. "I said no," he rapped firmly. "I'm not abandoning my brother so quickly. He's in there and he's fighting. He's fought to survive all his life; he wouldn't give up now. It's not in him."
"No?" Robin commented softly. "Well, I do know one thing that's in him, and I don't think it has any intention of coming out. The sooner you come to grips with that, Niko, the better off you'll be." He went on, unrelenting. "And the better off Cal will be."
It was fascinating watching him push Niko to the edge, and a very dangerous edge at that. He was the ultimate pragmatist, my brother, but there was one thing he could not look at directly. Not now. Cal was a blind spot, the only chink in Niko's armor. Goodfellow could talk until he was blue in the face, and it wouldn't do him a damn bit of good. There was only one person who could convince Nik at this point that I wasn't salvageable. That person was Cal; that person was me. One in the same, even if no one realized it yet. One in the same, now and always.
"Any decisions about my brother will be made by me, Goodfellow." The warning wrapped Niko's words in razor wire and broken glass. "No one else."
Robin bowed his head slightly, brow creased. Exhaling harshly, he twisted his lips in resignation. "No matter how good the intentions, I take it."
"No matter." The message was unbending, but the ice behind it had thawed somewhat. Niko knew that Robin was trying to help, could see that he was on his side. It was a big step for someone who'd been nursed on suspicion all his life. Quite the bonding moment for the two of them. How sweet. I was all puppies and kittens from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, the same feet I jackknifed into Goodfellow's knees.
Strike two.
The blow knocked him on his ass and that, I thought with righteous condescension, was what happened to those who got soft. The puck had obviously forgotten, but there were humans and then there was us. You forget what side you're on, you try to cross that line, and there was a price to pay. And it wasn't going to be paid in Monopoly money either.
I'd hoped that Robin careening into him would stagger Niko, at least for a second. No such luck. As he fell, Goodfellow had the presence of mind to twist away, taking down no one but himself. That left my brother still open for business and that was less than a desirable outcome, to say the least. Consequently, when Boggle breached the ground like a killer whale through the waves, I promptly decided he was my new best friend. Apparently, I'd overestimated his cowardice and underestimated his hatred of Niko. Shedding dirt like water, he snatched up my brother by his coat, lifted him high in the air, and shook him violently. The blond head snapped back with visibly painful force as Boggle gave a gutturally triumphant bellow. It was a beautiful sight to see, right up until the moment when Niko sliced off Boggle's right hand.