“Cari.” Mason’s voice had lowered. “There is no time. Martin came fucking armed to the teeth.”
Um . . . language? She’d take that up later. A couple of wild wolves they were.
Cari looked back at Fletcher and sighed. She reached inside herself to find the right words to let him know that she only wanted to give his dad and him a home, and in return she’d get a family. The trade was pretty uneven, when she thought about it. She came out way ahead.
She was staring hard to figure out what to say when she caught sight of a wisp of his umbra. Little mage, so tough. Trying to be just as big and bad as his dad. They were twins, which meant Fletcher was going to be a handful. Already was. The more she looked at him, trying to see past the Mason in his DNA to the person he was on his own, her Sight revealed the shape of a child’s hand, made of Shadow, clamped tightly on Fletcher’s mouth.
She blinked. Looked harder. Yes. A child’s hand covered Fletcher’s mouth.
Cari dropped a hand to Mason’s knee and gripped. “Fletcher’s been bound.”
The kid’s hard eyes—not hard, no—brave . . . his brave eyes widened. Begged.
Mason slid off his chair, face reddening, to be closer to his son. He put his big hand over Fletcher’s heart. “Wha—? How? Fuck Webb.”
The vehemence in his voice was frightening. And it exactly matched her own. The language in this case was absolutely warranted.
“Oh, yes. Webb will pay.” Cari clenched her hands together. “Let’s see to Fletcher first though.”
That hand across Fletcher’s mouth was made of the umbra, the Shadow soul, of some other mage. A child, strangely. Cari reached forward and peeled it away from Fletcher’s face. The hand smoked into obscurity.
Only a Dolan could’ve perceived it. Without her intervention, Fletcher would have lived his life with his mouth closed.
“Bran did it,” Fletcher said, angrily. His face was pink, blotchy, and his eyes shined. And somehow Cari knew to look away, anywhere, so that he wouldn’t be ashamed of himself. Stray pride.
“You will tell me everything,” Mason said. He was shaking, so Cari put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s so I don’t say anything about Webb House.” His voice was off. Forced.
Cari looked at him again. Looked at him as a Dolan should look at everyone. There’d been a hand to his mouth. And pitch if there wasn’t another holding on to his umbra soul.
To do this to a child. To have another child do this to a child. Riordan Webb would come before the Council and explain. Cari would see to it, if she didn’t kill the bastard first. He was not getting any part of DolanCo’s Umbra project, that’s for sure.
“What about Webb House?” Mason asked.
Cari relaxed into her power. There was so much of it after her rush through Twilight to get here from Dolan House. Webb had a great aptitude for magic, but Dolan’s was still stronger. She reached with her own hands of umbra—careful—and forced the child Bran’s to release its grip on Fletcher.
And then the words just tumbled out of him, fast and free. “I don’t know. That Webb’s a dick, maybe. I got the files off Mr. Webb’s computer, but I left it inside his wall. No way could he or his search dogs find me. I peed everywhere I could.”
“You left his files—? Search dogs?” Mason seemed to be having trouble keeping up. Each thing worse than the last.
“They are files on a flash drive, duh. And I can walk through walls. It’s how I got away.”
A Walker trait, Cari thought, from Livia. Oh, this kid was going to be trouble. But he seemed okay now. Natural. A little cocky, which made her warm inside.
Cari flinched as Fletcher suddenly looked over at her. “You got both hands?”
Mason sat back, even more confused.
Fletcher had noticed. He must have felt the difference and had just connected it to her.
“Yeah, I got rid of the second one.” To Mason, she said. “Bran had him by the umbra, too. Seemed like they weren’t about to let Fletcher go.”
“He had him by his umbra?” Mason growled.
“I guess you’re okay,” Fletcher said, examining Cari more carefully. “For a girl.”
Considering her initial reception, Cari was more than happy to go with this. She had a feeling parenthood would be very humbling. “Thank you. Umbra is my thing, as Shadow walking is apparently one of yours.”
“Huh . . .” Fletcher’s expression soured.
Oh, no. She’d screwed up again somehow.
The sour turned into a full-fledged frown of disgust. “You and my dad don’t hump, do you?”
“He’s a thousand-year-old soldier,” Mason said to introduce Jack Bastian.
“I’m older than that, actually,” Jack said to Fletcher, holding out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Mason looked over at Kaye, who was waiting with Cari. Kaye raised her eyebrows as if to say, Any time now would be good.
Got to get the kid squared away first. Just wait until Kaye had children.
“You’re the one who came to our cabin in New Mexico,” Fletcher said.
“That would be me,” Jack said. “But I didn’t see you anywhere.”
Fletcher smiled smugly. “I know.”
Smartass. Kid needed a mother, Mason thought. Why hadn’t he seen it before?
“That lady over there is Kaye Brand,” Mason said, “and she’s waiting to tell all these people how great I am.”
Fletcher grinned.
“Try not to give Mr. Bastian too much trouble.”
“I’ve got him,” Jack said. Which meant that if Martin or anyone else should make a move, the thousand-year-old soldier would make sure his son was safe. It would have to be good enough.
Mason gripped the top of Fletcher’s skull with one hand—an old joke they called “the claw of doom”—and turned to join Kaye and Cari in the empty space in the room. Mason found he didn’t like being in the spotlight. But then, who’d be looking at him with the ladies in all their cleavage and jewels? He couldn’t take his eyes off Cari.
A flute of Black Moll was handed to him as Kaye raised hers.
The room fell silent.
“First, thank you to Greatmage Maya for opening his wards to the Houses tonight. We are gathered here this evening to celebrate the success of Cari Dolan and Mason Stray’s investigation into the mage plague. Not only did they discover the source—an ancient rogue angel by the name of Xavier—but they killed him, too, thus ending the threat to our people. The Dark Age is upon us, and we have greatmages the likes of the Old Ones among us. I raise my glass.”
The gathering sipped at their Moll. It burned down Mason’s throat. He glanced over at Fletcher and Jack Bastian. Fletcher held a glass of the black stuff, too. Trust Jack to know all the mage ways.
Cari stepped forward before everyone’s glasses came down. A low rumble of “Do-lan, Do-lan, Do-lan” swept the crowd. Mason knew it was support for what they hoped was her bid for Brand’s seat. Kaye was a lit wick of poise behind Cari’s armor. His princess, ready to do battle.
Mason blew out his breath. Here goes . . .
Cari swept her gaze across the room. “Dolan House has stood for time immemorial because we can sense the character of those around us, and so have gathered powerful allies to augment our own power. My father taught me to recognize value, and it is glaringly obvious in Mason Stray. Whatever his heritage, the man has proven his worth a thousand times over. He is the equal of anyone in this room. Dolan House claims Mason Stray and his son, Fletcher Stray, for our own. If any House challenges me in this, I’ll scrape them off the earth.”