Repairer of the Breach (Stones of Fire Book 4) by Sarah Ashwood (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

All the little odds and ends of the past months added up to something big, but it was something big she couldn’t try in a court of law. Even if she could, Candace had a feeling there would be plenty of lawyers and judges on Sean Costas’s take to block every step of the road towards true justice. Not to mention the media nightmare if she dared to go up against Elia without substantial proof—which she certainly lacked.

Frustrated, she walked back into the kitchen, the scent of the gurgling coffee pot pulling her in like a moth to a flame. She’d barely placed her butt in the chair, heard Gary ask, “The usual? Or do you actually want a shot of something stronger?” when a thought struck, struck so hard her head snapped up.

“Gary!” she exclaimed.

Her partner jerked, surprised. “What?”

“The sword!” She bolted up from the chair, head already swiveling, searching desperately. “He forgot it. Ellie must have too. Have you seen it? Where did he put it?”

“The sword?”

“The sword!” she snapped. “The one I told you about. He had it in the warehouse last night. Remember? The one that looks plain, but when he touches it, it flames.”

“Sounds like a helluva weapon,” her partner observed wryly. She heard the splash of rich, Columbian coffee being poured into a mug, but didn’t stop searching, her hands questing, pulling books off the shelf, picking up afghans and blankets, tossing aside throw pillows. “I don’t remember seeing him bring anything like that inside,” Gary added. “I don’t know what you’d do with it anyway.”

“Me? I’m not doing anything with it. From what Ballis told me, he’s the only one who can.”

“Then why are you getting so worked up about it? Let it go, Candace. Coffee’s ready.”

“Forget the coffee!” she barked. Frustrated, she rose, shoving her hair back out of her face with both palms. “What if it’s important? What if it’s a dealbreaker? What if it’s the difference between life and death, or even preventing an all-out war?”

“War is coming,” Gary observed mildly. Mildly, but seriously. “No way around it. Not after Sean’s wife decided to betray him and jump ship for Elia’s side.”

“Yes, but what if—” Candace paused, bit her lower lip. She couldn’t explain to her partner the sense of urgency she felt about the weapon, not when she barely understood it herself.

Memory struck. The car!

She wheeled and dashed outside, out to the vehicle she and Carter had stolen—borrowed—to get away from the carnage at the warehouse last night. Could it be? Could they really have been so intent on getting here, getting inside, getting their needs met that they’d both forgotten? Candace opened the back door, praying, holding her breath, eyes roving the interior as she bent to stick her head inside…

And there it was, resting on the back seat. Looking as simple and underwhelming as a sword could look. Especially a sword capable of turning into a weapon that could wield flame and possibly magic, too.

The detective’s hands almost trembled as she seized it, gathering it close to carry inside the house.

Got to get ahold of Ballis. He’s got to have this.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I was sitting on my bed, a cup of Mom’s sleepy time hot tea—some sort of lavender and chamomile concoction—in my hands when the hotel phone next to my bed rang. I didn’t particularly care for the smell of chamomile, and I didn’t like hot tea much better than I liked coffee, but my mind seemed incapable of shutting down.

First, I’d had to fend off my parents’ inquiries about where I’d been the past couple days. I’d already come up with a plan, and that was simply to tell them I’d been with Carter, phones off, working on our marriage. Instantly, I was forgiven any worries they may have had about my absence. Mom couldn’t hide her smug expression. Dad had looked less pleased, but he didn’t say much. Mom then asked if I thought there was a good chance for reconciliation between the two of us. Or, translation, she wanted to know if a divorce was still pending. I told her yes, there was a good chance of reconciliation. I didn’t add that we planned to stay together…if Carter survived the coming war.

That was the sticking point. My brain now wanted to play and replay today’s events, as well as last’s nights, like a movie reel stuck on repeat. Over and over again I asked myself if I’d done the right thing. Over and over, I reassured myself that I hadn’t had any choice. Yet when it came to the scene of telling Carter goodbye, knowing I was possibly sending him off to die while refusing to go with him or even try to help…

Groaning, I dropped my head against the headboard, lifting the mug for a sip. The tea didn’t seem to be doing much to calm me down, but I planned to keep drinking it in the hopes that it would. At least until the phone rang.

When the first chimes sounded, I jumped, then stared at it in surprise.

Who’s calling me? On that thing?

I couldn’t think of a soul, and that disturbed me. However, curiosity got the better of me, and by the second ring I’d set down the tea, scooted a little closer to the nightstand, and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ellie?”

“Detective Ewing?” I recognized her voice right away. “Is something wrong?”

Worry churned in my stomach, setting the tea to sloshing. This couldn’t be good.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong. I don’t think,” the police detective hastened to assure me, quieting my anxiety a little. “I’m sorry to surprise you, but I didn’t have your cell number. I had to call the hotel and have the front desk put me through to your room.”

“That’s fine,” I said. Then, “So, what’s going on?”

“Well, I think I have something that Carter might—might need. I didn’t have his number, either, and trying to call the Costas home didn’t get me anywhere. I’m guessing, with