And he meant everyone.
Gods, he wished he had one of those phones now in Mackenzie’s hand. Her thumb danced over the tiny on-screen keyboard, the message she sent appearing above it. A reply came in almost instantly. With such a device, he would be able to warn everyone without having to face them.
Borrowing her phone wasn’t an option either. He didn’t know the telephone number for Underworld. Harbin knew it since he liked to keep in touch with his older brother, but he was away from the guild on business and tracking him down in Hell would take too much time.
Which meant his only option was visiting Underworld in person.
Still, he didn’t feel ready to leap right in at the deep end, so he focused and teleported with Mackenzie to the guild. He landed with her in his office, an attempt to buy her a few moments to prepare herself that didn’t really work out.
Fuery shouldered the door open less than a second after he had appeared and dropped the stack of papers he held, scattering them across the polished stone floor. He turned incredulous eyes on Hartt as he spoke in the elf tongue.
“What is she doing here?”
“We are on the same side, Fuery.” Hartt released her and held his hands up, hoping to calm his friend as he spoke in the same language, one Mackenzie wouldn’t be able to understand since his species closely guarded knowledge of it. “The reason Rosalind could sense a spell on me is because the client… is a witch. You were right. Something is off about this contract. The witch we fought in London is after us, Mackenzie, and Lord Van der Garde of the vampires. He wanted us to kill each other off, and then he was no doubt going to kill whoever was the last man standing.”
“What are you saying to him?” Mackenzie lunged at his wide dark wooden desk, grabbed a letter opener from it and brandished it like a dagger, the gleaming silver tip pointed at Fuery. “Is he threatening me?”
Fuery raised an eyebrow at her and spoke in the elven tongue. “She threatens me?”
Hartt frowned at both of them, and said in English, “Fuery was not threatening you.”
He placed his hand on Mackenzie’s and lowered it and the blade, and looked at Fuery.
“She was not threatening you. She was defending herself. She has been through much.” He released her hand and hoped she wouldn’t bring her makeshift dagger up again. “Speak with us in the mortal tongue, Fuery, or Mackenzie may misunderstand.”
And would probably stab his friend, and then all hell would break loose.
Fuery stooped and gathered the scattered papers, crossed the room and dropped them on Hartt’s desk. “I will lock the guild down. No one in and no one out. But I want to come with you.”
Hartt shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
Fuery’s violet irises gained flecks of black. “It is too dangerous for you too. If the darkness takes you… I need to be there.”
“The darkness?” Mackenzie looked from Fuery to Hartt. “What does he mean? Like what happened to you when we were fighting?”
“It is none of your concern.” He glanced at her, lingered as she glared at him. He softened his tone. “I will be fine.”
“Oh, yeah, because you were just peachy when you went all black-eyed and murderous on me.” She slipped the letter opener into the waist of her onyx leathers and patted it. “I’ll keep this close, just in case.”
He huffed. “It is made of steel and would not cut through my armour.”
“That’s reassuring,” she muttered with a sour look on her face. “Nice that you’re thinking ahead to going loco and how it would all play out.”
Before he could take back what he had said and make her see that he wasn’t planning on allowing the corrupted part of his soul to seize control of him when he was around her, she carried on talking.
“Besides, I’ve noticed you have a glaring weak spot when using your armour.” She leaned towards him and tapped him on his forehead.
It didn’t go down well with Fuery. He snarled at her, baring fangs, his eyes rapidly verging on black, like storm clouds racing in to blot out the light.
“She did not mean it.” Hartt turned to him and held his right hand out to halt him before he could attack Mackenzie. “Apparently, her tongue has become more caustic since…”
He grimaced as he almost mentioned her rebirth, issued her an apologetic look when she gaped at him, her golden eyes wide. Revealing what she was to others wasn’t a great way of gaining her trust, and he wanted her trust, so he was going to have to be more careful.
Fuery eyed her closely.
Hartt went to step in front of her to shield her from his friend’s inquisitive gaze, but she moved around him, coming to stand in front of him instead. Her eyes locked on Fuery, and gods, Hartt wanted to growl and flash fangs at the male, wanted to seize her arm and drag her behind him again, where his friend wouldn’t be able to see her.
“He trusts you?” She tilted her chin up a little, squared her shoulders in a way that part of him admired while the rest found oddly adorable. She was strong, didn’t need to act that way in front of him or Fuery. Both of them knew she could handle herself and anything life threw at her.
Fuery nodded.
Mackenzie looked over her shoulder at Hartt. “You trust him?”
He nodded too. “With my life. Fuery is like a brother to me. He saved my life once, a long time ago. I owe him everything.”
She gave him a look that said she would be asking about that later. If she did, he would gladly tell her about what had happened to bring him and Fuery together. He would share the pain of his past with her just as she had shared hers with him, and hopefully he would feel that deep connection to her again and it would calm the primal part of himself that needed to keep her close to him, her eyes on him and only him.
She pulled down a breath that stretched her black shirt tight across her breasts and sighed it out.
“Fine.” Her golden gaze locked on Fuery, narrowed and brightened. “But if you tell a soul, I will end you.”
Fuery didn’t look amused by that threat, and Hartt wondered if he was going to have to intervene again. His friend looked at him, a curious glimmer in his eyes that told him that Mackenzie wasn’t the only one who wanted to question him about some things. Hartt had the feeling it wasn’t only Mackenzie that Fuery would be asking about the next time they were alone either.
Hartt wasn’t ready to analyse the things that had happened between him and Mackenzie, or how he felt about her. Not yet. When he was sure everyone was safe, he would take a moment to think about everything that had happened.
“I’m a shifter,” Mackenzie said with another stern look in Fuery’s direction. She hesitated and Hartt wanted to place his hand on her shoulder and tell her that she could trust them. She could trust him. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, would deal with anyone who placed her in danger, even Fuery. She glanced back at him and he felt sure she had sensed his need to reassure her when she smiled softly, and then she looked at Fuery again. “A phoenix.”
Fuery furtively looked around them, at the closed door behind him and the windows behind Hartt, and then murmured, “A phoenix?”
She nodded.
The male placed his right hand on his chest. “I swear, I will not tell a soul.”