Page 3 of Broken

Chapter 2

Ireland focused on her magic, listening to the tumblers fall in the safe, while holding back the wards left there by the previous owner.

And trying not to look too hard at the dead body—the last person who’d tried to do what she was doing.

It would be too easy for her and Riker to come to the same fate.

It still felt odd, working with Riker. It had only been a few months since her last Protector had been killed. Since the mix of their powers had driven him insane.

Riker had saved her. She owed him. And as it turned out, there was something she could do for him. For both of them.

And it she was about to do it… right… now.

The last tumbler fell into place, and the safe opened with a metallic snick.

Butterflies filled her stomach, and she almost forgot how much danger they were in. But not quite. Riker wasn’t experienced with magic, and if his concentration failed…

She had to hurry.

Ireland began pulling things out of the safe. Cash, papers, a ledger, files—she shoved them all into the canvas duffel at her feet. None of that really mattered.

The thing she wanted—needed—was in the back. A drawstring bag made of shimmering blue velvet, with a faint glow of magic around it.

The Book of Bright Moon. She pulled it out, the magic seeping into her like cool water. She ran her hand over it, savoring the feeling. She had it. She was almost free.

Riker said, “You going to drag that thing straight into bed? Or maybe buy it dinner first?” His voice was showing the strain of holding up the wards.

“Yours is in here too.” She put the Book into the duffel and reached for the last thing in the safe. Another bag, identical except for the color—a deep black.

“Grab it and let’s go,” Riker said. “I’m getting a bad feeling—like something’s watching us.”

The magic around the safe was watching them, wanting to do what the sorcerer had set it to do.

Kill them both.

“I’ve got it,” she said. She tucked the second book into the bag and carefully withdrew her magic from the wards on the safe, stepping back. They snapped back into place, and the safe door slammed shut.

Nothing blew up.

Ireland let out a sigh of relief. “We’re clear.” She zipped the duffel and picked it up. Despite the tension, she couldn’t help grinning. She’d been dreaming of this day for years. “Let’s get out of here, and set ourselves free.”

There was an answering grin on Riker’s face. She was going to miss him—this man who’d barged into her life thinking he was taking her captive, and ended up a partner and a friend.

She wondered, after they freed themselves from the magic that bound them, if she’d ever see him again.

She’d barely taken a step towards Riker when the door to the room slammed open and three creatures burst in. Humanoid, but hugely muscled, with muzzles like dogs and glowing yellow eyes.

Terror raced through her. Fae Retrievers. They’d found her.

They ran forward, hit Riker’s protective circle and barked with pain, but it didn’t seem to damage them. Two of them circled, growling. The third began chanting a counterspell, pushing at their wards.

“Hell,” Ireland said. “Is there a back way out?”

Riker replied, “The plans said there were maintenance tunnels. That way.” He jerked his head minutely toward the wall opposite the main door, about thirty feet away from them. “If we get inside, we block the way behind us with explosives.”

Bringing the roof down behind them didn’t seem to be the best plan, but it was all they had. She could feel their circle of protection bending already. It wouldn’t last long—not with Riker’s lack of experience, and no power of his own.

She said, “Roger that. Let’s get out of here.”