“That’s good then, because I’m not leaving yet.”

He let her go and she stood. Her weight hit her feet and she swayed.

“Need some crutches?” he asked.

She flipped him off without turning and made the ten-step journey to grab the envelope. Her body felt liquid, her muscles tired and pliant. She was sore. She’d spent four hours in his room and none of it was sleeping, except for the few stretches when she cat-napped. She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but there was something irresistibly comforting about him stretched out next to her. She wasn’t sure if it was his size, the heat of his body, or simply knowing that if anything tried to enter the room intending to harm them, he would kill it, probably with his bare hands. Maybe all three.

“You want me to take care of that for you?” he asked.

She glanced at him. A faint blue aura coated him.

“No,” she said.

He smiled. It was a self-satisfied smile of a man pleased with himself. She rolled her eyes and collapsed on the sheets next to him, the envelope in her hands.

“Tell me about Aberdine,” she said.

“It was blood and fire,” he said. “Stay out of my dreams for a while, Elara.”

“Fire?”

“It’s an army, as we thought. The officers are marked with gold. They spit fire. High heat. One of them caught Richard Sams with it. He died almost instantly.”

She heard it in his voice. He’d tried to save Richard and failed.

“They don’t run,” he said. “They don’t beg for their lives. They fight until they die and when you try to restrain them, they burn from inside out.”

She drew a sharp breath. That kind of magic was beyond what most human magic users could do. “So, an elder being?”

“Yes. There is a benefit to taking out their officers. In normal circumstances, an officer dies and the next in line takes his place. With them, nobody stepped out. Once you cut them off from leadership, they fall out of formation and stand there until someone with a weapon approaches. Then they fight to the death as individuals. Once I took out the head guy, even the remaining officers stopped responding. That’s the only way to fracture and break them.”

“This makes no sense. How can an army function this way?”

Hugh grimaced. “It makes sense in a twisted way if you suppose something is controlling the top officer.”

“Like a possession?”

“Possibly. Even an elder being can’t control that many fighters at once. If it controls the commanding officers, and the rest are blindly obeying orders, it directs the entire army.”

An elder being. She sighed. “Did Aberdine survive?”

“Most of it. The Dollar General is a husk and a couple of other buildings are not much better. But we put the fires out. The battle cost us three Iron Dogs. Aberdine lost twenty-one people.”

He said it matter-of-factly, his voice flat. It ate at him, she realized. Every time he lost someone, it ate at him.

“Do you think they will try again?” she asked.

“They will, but they won’t target Aberdine again. We don’t know if there was any communication between the invading forces and reserves back where they came from, but it would be unlikely that there wasn’t. We have to assume that they know we were waiting for them in Aberdine. We painted a target on our chests with that move. The next strike, if it comes, will be aimed at us.”

She’d thought as much. Elara held the envelope out to him.

Hugh grabbed a pillow and pushed it behind his head to prop himself up. She liked the way the biceps rolled on his arms. Stop it, stop it, stop it… The pep talk wasn’t quite working. She had opened a can of gasoline and set the fumes on fire.

Hugh opened the flap and pulled the paperwork out. She’d reviewed it with Savannah. It laid out exactly what Nez had promised.

His expression went hard.

“Nez came to see me,” she told him. “Via a vampire.”

“When?” Hugh asked.

“While you were in Aberdine.”

“And you’re absolutely sure it was Nez?”

“Yes. I’ve met him before when he tried to negotiate the purchase of the castle. He always speaks as if he is two steps above you on the intelligence ladder.”

“He’s a stuck-up asshole.”

“Yeah, that too.”

“Thinking of taking him up on his offer?”

She arched her eyebrows at him. “Why, do you think I should?”

Hugh tapped the file. “Some years ago, Landon Nez and I were clearing the way for Roland in Nebraska. There was a small remote town on the northern edge of the state called Hayville, protected by a Winnebago shaman. Roland wanted the land the town sat on. The shaman’s family lived there for generations and once the Shift hit and their powers returned, they’d started laying wards around Hayville to protect their home. During magic, the place was a fortress. The town was well armed, so direct assault during tech was a bad idea. One day Nez showed up and laid siege to the town. Cut off the two roads leading to it and cut the power and phone lines. The state had its hands full with the Curva cult at the time, so nobody caught on for a bit.”

The hint of some emotion flickered over his face. She couldn’t quite place it. Pain? Regret? Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant.

“Nez didn’t want to bloody his nose against thirty years’ worth of wards, so he sat on Hayville for a week and brokered a deal. If they delivered the shaman to him, he would sign a treaty with the town swearing to leave them alone. They brought the shaman to him trussed up like a hog. Nez got the shaman and left.”

“And?” Elara asked.

“And the next morning I came through the town and burned it to the ground.”

She stared at him.

“There was an investigation,” he said. “Federal government came down. Witnesses were questioned. Reports were written about mysterious people in black burning the place down. Nobody mentioned Nez, because they sold their shaman to him, and nobody mentioned me, because they knew once the authorities left, I would be back. The town was a charred ruin and the next spring Roland bought the land for nothing.”

“What happened to the shaman?” she asked.

“Nez tortured and murdered him,” Hugh said. “Nez is part Navajo. His family never lived with Navajo Nation, but he went there when he was fifteen. He told them he wanted to learn about his heritage. They taught him for a while until they realized he was a navigator. They consider undeath to be unnatural.”

It was.

“There are prohibitions against doing evil,” Hugh continued. “The Navajo believe that humans are meant to be in harmony and piloting undead disrupts that harmony, bringing about hóchxǫ́, chaos and sickness. Nez was given a choice: to abandon necromancy and continue learning or to leave before his sickness could spread. He left. Since that point, he goes after every shaman, medicine person, and hand trembler who crosses his path. He hunts them down and kills them. Doesn’t matter what Tribe.”

“Why? Is he trying to punish the Nations?”

“Yes and no. Mostly he is proving to himself that he’s superior.” Hugh grimaced. “Making deals and agreements with Nez is a waste of time. Might as well write a contract with a fork on the water in that moat out there. His word means nothing. His promises mean nothing. If the man’s mouth is moving, he is lying.”

She stretched next to him. “Are you worried I will sell you out, Preceptor?”

A hungry spark lit up his eyes.

“Did you buy us any time?” Hugh asked.

“Two weeks.” She checked his face. “Tell me you have some sort of plan, Hugh.”

“We’ll have to deploy the barrels,” he said. “I would’ve liked another week to make sure the moat holds water. If it doesn’t, we’re fucked.”

“What’s in the barrels?” she asked.

“If you play your cards right, I’ll show you.”

His voice had a drop of smugness. He thought he had her. She had to leave now, she realized. If she delayed any longer, she wouldn’t get out of his bed at all. She would just lay here, luxuriating in the warmth of his body, cozy and safe.