Free Black Dust Mambo by Adrian Phoenix Page A

glimpse of Augustine’s taut smile relaxing into one of genuine amusement.
    “Huh. Didn’t think he had it in him.”
    “Didn’t think he had what?” McKenna asked.
    “Humor.”
    “Maybe he was just giving you what he thought you needed to see,” Mc Kenna said in her calm and neutral teaching voice, switching in an instant from friend to shuvani . “Appearances are everything to illusionists.”
    “I wonder what he’ll show Kallie when he catches up to her? I got a feeling it ain’t gonna be what she wants to see.”
    “That’s fine by me,” McKenna said. “Whether she intended it or not—and I’m not convinced that she’s anywhere near innocent in this—our Gage is dead because of tha’ woman.”
    Layne looked down into Mc Kenna’s dark eyes. A storm of furious grief raged in their depths; a storm matching the maelstrom battering him from within. “I know,” he said quietly. “Believe me, Kenn, I know.”
    “Still . . . because of her, yer alive, yer soul intact,” Mc -Kenna said. She raked her fingers through her short dark hair, and Layne caught a faint whiff of musky amber, her natural perfume. “And that bugs the shite outta me because now—whether any of us like it or not—yer fate is tied to hers.”
    “The least of my worries, yeah? I’ll deal with it later.” Layne turned around and red-hot pain spiked through his chest. His vision grayed. “Christ,” he whispered.
    Mc Kenna’s hands locked around his biceps, her strong fingers steadying him until his sight cleared. “That’s what I’m talking about,” she said. “You need to rest, so sit yer arse back down.”
    “No.” Layne carefully peeled her fingers from his arms. Pink finger-shaped marks branded his skin. “Not until I’ve tended to Gage.”
    “Or better yet,” McKenna continued, dark brows slashing down, “you should go back to yer room and lie down. I’ll take care of things here.”
    Layne shook his head and strode back to the room, pain twinging against his sternum. Hurt all you damned want, you ain’t stopping me. Nothing’s stopping me.
    “Layne, please, there’s nae one to tend to anymore,” Mc Kenna said, her brogue thickening. “Ain’t nothing left o’ him. Go lie down.”
    Layne paused in the room’s threshold. The pain knotting around his heart had nothing to do with his broken ribs. “I’m going to get his body ready,” he said, voice rough. “He woulda done the same for me. No matter what.”
    Behind him, Mc Kenna sighed, but said nothing more.
    With a tap of his fingers against the door frame, Layne walked into the room and to the bed. Gage lay half on his side, half on his belly near the edge of the bed where Kallie and her friend had pushed him, pillows propped against his back.
    “We need to get him off that bed, first of all,” Mc Kenna said, eyeing the hex on the mattress. “Probably safe to touch him since he’s no longer in contact with the spell.”
    “You sure about that?” Layne barely suppressed a convulsive shudder as he remembered the feel of the hex’s tainted magic rampaging through his body.
    “No,” Mc Kenna admitted. “I’m not sure. But if you go to me room and fetch me staff—”
    “Nuh-uh. You ain’t sending me off on some errand and then taking all the risks yourself, woman.” Layne held Mc Kenna’s dark gaze. “I know you.”
    She tilted her head. “You think you do, anyway. But you only know what I’ve allowed you to know.”
    Layne glanced up at the ceiling and counted to ten, refusing to take the bait. “I know you think you’d be protecting me because I don’t have any real magic skill,” he said, returning his gaze to hers, “through no fault of your own. I couldn’t have asked for a better shuvani because one doesn’t exist. But it’s just not in me—not the way it is . . . was . . . with Gage.”
    Was . The word hollowed out Layne’s heart.
    “Ah, but yer wrong, lad. The two of you worked so well together, completing and