“Thank you,” Slate said sincerely. Then added, “You're dating my brother.” He grinned as if that deserved an award. “Please, call me Slate.”
“Thank you, Slate,” Achira murmured.
“Where's Aaro?” Slate asked Binx.
“He's uh... I think he's drinking with Jago somewhere.”
“I almost pity the women of my zone.” Slate chuckled.
“Uh, Slate?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm moving out of the barracks.”
“What?” Slate paused halfway down to his seat. “Why? Where are you going?”
“I'm going to live with Achira.” Binx lifted his chin.
Slate grinned and lowered himself the rest of the way. “Congratulations, Brother. I hope it works out.”
“Yeah?” Binx asked in surprise.
“Binx, did you think I wanted you to live in the barracks forever?”
“Well...” Binx shrugged.
“It's about fucking time you got your own place,” Aaro declared as he strolled up with Jago. Then he saw Achira and winced. “Sorry, Achira. I mean—”
“It's fine,” she cut him off and smiled brightly. “I know what you meant.”
“Which makes her smarter than you,” Aaro teased Binx. “Not that it's much of an achievement.”
“I was smart enough to grab her before you got to her,” Binx shot back.
“There's no arguing that.” Aaro winked at Achira. “I hope you're both happy. But we'll understand if you kick him out in a week, Achira.”
Binx punched Aaro in the arm, but Aaro only laughed.
“Not to be a buzzkill”—I looked pointedly at Cerberus—“but I think we should get the bottled Jinni to his people. I don't want to jinx our good luck.”
“Yeah, I see what you did there.” Cer held up his fist for a bump, and I obliged him. Then I got up.
“No.” Darc waved me back down. “I'll take it. You stay and spend some time with Slate. You've been separated too long.”
“Thank you, Darcraxis,” Slate said sincerely.
“Glad to have you back, Gargoyle.” Darc grinned as he picked up the bottle. “Don't go closing the wards again while I'm gone.”
“Wouldn't dream of it.”
Darc disappeared with the bottled Jinni, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see him gone; the Jinni, not my husband.
Aaro lifted a brow at me. “Are we certain Gargo is secure?”
Everyone went tense. My guys exchanged looks with me. We couldn't tell Slate's brothers or Jago about the magic bombs. Not that we didn't trust them but secrets relied on the fewest amount of people knowing them.
“I'm certain the dagger collected his soul,” I said. Then I pointedly asked Declan. “Are we sure the box will hold Gargo?”
“The box will hold,” Declan confirmed. “Darc surrounded it in water which I sealed in yet another box just in case Gargo... somehow escapes the dagger.”
“That was smart thinking.” I meant it; they'd come up with that bit on the fly when we should have planned it. “I didn't even notice the extra layer.”
“You were a little busy,” Gage said gently.
“Where's the box now?” Aaro asked.
“Darcraxis hid it,” Torin said evasively.
I knew what that meant. Darc had taken the box, or double boxes, to Ildathach; the first planet we made together. It's also where our imprisoned magic was hidden.
“In a safe place, I hope?” Jago made it into a question.
“It's buried beneath a layer of snow and ice atop a mountain so sheer that no one can climb it,” Torin admitted. “Don't worry; even if Gargo's soul gets out of the dagger, he won't get free.”
Jago sighed. “I hope he's gone for good this time. That bastard's like a bad penny.”
“He's gone,” Slate reaffirmed with a glance at me. “And we're getting this zone back to normal.”
“No more wildcats running amok?” I teased.
“And no more wars,” Slate said sternly. “The only fighting in my zone will be in the arena.”
“Still, maybe we should put the ward back up,” Jago suggested.
We all looked at him.
“Like it was before,” Jago hurried to say. “Gargoyles and your family can come through but no one else.”
“I don't want people to feel trapped.” Slate scowled. “They've been through enough.”
“The Gargoyles can escort them through the gates,” Aaro argued. “And they'll feel safer knowing that no one can bypass our guards.”
“I have one word for you,” I said to Slate. “Jinn.”
“See it done,” Slate barked the command at Jago.
“You got it, Boss!” Jago grinned as he pulled his radio off his belt and clicked it on. “Put the ward back up. The old one.”
“Got it!” a voice answered.
“It had better be the old one or Darc is gonna be pissed,” I warned Jago.
“You know what? Hold off on that for a bit,” Jago spoke into the radio again. “I'll let you know.”
I lifted a brow at him.
“I'm not taking the blame if the ward gets screwed up,” Jago said. “Especially not if it means facing an angry Darcraxis.”
“You should be more afraid of me,” Slate huffed.
“Oh, please.” Jago rolled his eyes. “The only time you've scared me was when you weren't you.”
Slate started to stand.
Jago yipped, turned, and ran away. “I'm not scared!” he called back. “Just remembered I have something I need to do.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Verin stood up and announced, “I'm going home.”
My chest constricted with panic, forcing me to my feet. “So soon?”
Verin's jaw clenched.
“I mean”—I cleared my throat—“I think we should talk first.”
Verin didn't point out that we'd already said all there was to say, he only waved his hand to indicate that I should lead. I avoided the looks my men were giving me and walked past Verin, my body zinging with electricity when I brushed his arm accidentally. His hand shot out and caught mine, and we stepped silently into a nearby alley. Verin took the lead then, drawing me further away from the cacophony of the party and down to the end of the alley where the sounds were muted.
“Tell me not to go.” Verin's turquoise gaze pinned me in place. His words held no pleading or command but an ultimatum. “Say it, and I'll stay.”
My free hand balled into a fist while the other tightened on his. I stared at him; my heart telling me to grab him and hold on tight
