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Bailey’s shouts cut off, and he turns toward them with a fake smile. “Welcome–”
They stream right past him to shove microphones at Sharpe.
“Captain Sharpe, have we seen the end to these horrifying monsters?” a reporter shouts.
“We hope so, but we’ll remain vigilant for now,” Sharpe responds. “Please, be careful of the fire. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“What do you think of Mayor Berdherst’s gruesome demise?” another shouts.
Bailey tries to get in front of the camera. “My people—”
“Sharpe, will you comment?” the news anchor shouts over the top of him.
Sharpe gives the cameras a regretful look, so good that even I question how he truly feels. “What happened to Mayor Berdherst was a tragedy, and his role in the city will be hard to fill.”
“Have you considered running for mayor?” another reporter shouts.
“I’m not sure what the future will hold.” Sharpe glances over the uprooted forest. “In Clearhelm, anything is possible.”
bargains fulfilled
- Pen -
The sun sitsnear the horizon by the time we return to our cabin.
Just as Bailey’s people promised, we find our home in shambles, the doors pulled off their hinges, the furniture broken, and gaping holes torn through the walls.
None of us have the energy to rage over the destruction. All we can do is pick through the ruins, packing our bags with what clothing we can find that survived being torn or stomped on.
Tears prick my eyes when I find my funny pajama drawer pulled from the dresser and soaked in what smells like urine, with sawdust and wood chips ground into them.
We discover that the showers still work and take turns quickly washing off the sweat and debris of the battle before changing into clean clothes.
Down in the garage, we discover the tires on our vehicles slashed and the bay doors dented so they can neither open nor fully close.
When we check the portal to the Library before we leave, we find it still on lockdown, the swan maidens missing.
With no other option, we return to the SUV parked at the front and load our bags into the trunk. Our lawyers will deal with suing the city for damages, but it will be a while before we can rebuild, and it will never feel the same.
We briefly discuss going to the safe house, but Darius puts his foot down. We arenotending the night with boxed or canned food, so we head to the Harbor instead.
A tacito demon at the check-in desk exchanges our luggage for a key to a suite. Exhausted both physically and mentally, we head toward the lounge, intent on eating before seeking our beds.
As we step into the lounge, applause rings out, bringing us to a halt.
All of Sharpe’s people and Trent’s team, along with several unfamiliar demons, stand from their tables, clapping. I even spot Amalia sitting alone at the bar, raising a glass toward us.
“There they are, the saviors of the Bone Yard. The protectors of Clearhelm!” Trent shouts, and cheers join the clapping.
People rush forward, drawing us to an empty table at the center of the lounge and pressing us down onto the chairs.
Drinks appear in front of us, along with a platter of appetizers. Even Anny receives a bowl of milk and a saucer of honey.
Sharpe shakes his head as he rises. “None of what happened today would have been possible without all of you.”
“Boo!” O’Hara calls out. “Just sit down and let us honor you, boss!”
Sharpe smiles and grabs the drink from the table in front of him. Raising it in salute, he chugs it down, which draws more cheers.
