Courts and Cabals by G.S. D'Moore (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

grin, popped open her beer with a hiss of carbonization, and raised it in a silent salute. I grabbed my own beer and returned the salute. It turned into a chugging contest, which I lost by a landslide. Her burp brought another disgruntled remark from the hallway, but Max didn’t come to check again.

“We probably shouldn’t be drinking if we have to fight off pissed-off Fae in a few hours,” I suggested.

“Dwarves always drink before fighting and fucking,” Dani wiggled her eyebrows at me, and my crotch responded in kind, but I tapped down on that emotion. Time was of the essence.

“What are we doing here?” I gestured at the small armory and bottles she’d brought along.

“We’re not doing anything. I’m going to set some ward,” she proceeded to upend a bag of what looked like dirt all over my bed.

“Do you really have to . . .?” I was cut short as she waved a hand and the dirt exploded across the room. None of it hit me, and I watched in awe as it created a visible latticework along the floor, walls, windows, and door. My jaw dropped in amazement.

“We use the same trick in our construction procedures,” she explained. “Since we’re underground, we’ve got to know how what we’re doing effects everything around us. This will tell me if anyone tries to get into the room.” She tossed me a second bottle. “When you go to take a piss before midnight, you’ll sprinkle this in the hallway. That way, I’ll have an early warning signal if anyone is coming.”

“That’s brilliant,” I stared at the seemingly insignificant bottle of earth.

“I’ve got beauty, brains and brawn, Cam,” she gave me a smile, as she started to strategically place cold-iron weapons around the room.

“Yes, yes you are,” I found myself looking at Dani in an entirely new light.

***

“Eleven fifty-nine,” Dani powered through a yawn, as she sat against my closet door with a three-foot sword resting across her lap.

“One more minute,” another surge of adrenaline passed through me.

I made sure the knife Lilith gave me was on my hip. Dani had spent an hour, after Max went back to his room, showing me how to stick the pointy end into the bad guy. We’d only just gotten to the point she was confident I wasn’t a danger to myself or her.

“Why don’t we use guns?” I’d asked after the small dwarf disarmed me for the hundredth time.

“Three reasons. First: guns bring a lot of attention. Even though we’re out, supernaturals don’t like to bring unwanted attention on ourselves. Humans still outnumber us about a hundred to one, and no one wants an angry mob coming down on them.”

“That makes sense,” after what Lilith told me about how supernaturals decided to come out in the first place, it made sense they didn’t want to draw more attention.

“Two: especially when dealing with Fae, cold iron ammo is regulated. The cabal has their own stockpile of the stuff, but it’s not exactly legal. If a local mage sweeps a crime scene and finds cold-iron residue, it automatically becomes the UN’s jurisdiction. The cabal’s human lawyers can make the typical harassment and misdemeanor charges that come with the cabal package go away, but if there’s a serious incident, the UN will send their special agents, and that always ends in a world of hurt.”

“I can believe that.” Just meeting Agent Dud, I could tell he was dangerous. He’d definitely killed people before.

“Last but not least; there’s tradition and pride involved.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her words.

“I know it sounds retarded,” she acknowledged. “But with these higher-level supernaturals, they’re told by everyone they’re the best, and they want to prove that. Going mano-e-mano in armed combat is the purest form of a dick-measuring contest. Anyone can kill anyone with a gun from a hundred meters away, but there’s something different about taking a life with your own two hands.” The way she said it suggested she had some experience.

“Have you . . .?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“Twelve oh one,” she changed the topic and hopped to her feet. “Your grace period is over. Game on.”

I’d spread the dirt on my way to take a piss earlier, and now that it was go time, I half expected Dani to spring to her feet, and kick the door into Chloe’s face, or whoever else Aveena was sending for my head.

That didn’t happen.

The big hand on the clock continued to move without caring that people were free to kill me now. When one o’clock rolled around, I stopped standing in the middle of the room, and sat down on my bed. By two o’clock, my eyes were starting to shut despite my best efforts. Dani still look rested, but I needed to do something to stay awake.

“Tell me about where you grew up?” I stifled a yawn.

“I grew up in the capital city. . . Moria.”

“You’re shitting me, right?” I asked, looking into her eyes for some clue that the dwarfs hadn’t named their city after a grown-up fairy tale.

“Yeah,” her stony expression broke and she chuckled. “Human’s call its Mt. Whitney, but to my people it’s just called Hom.”

“Really . . . Hom? Like Home?”

“Yeah. It’s the oldest city in the America’s. No one here even remembers when we made the migration from the Eurasian or European ranges. They have fancy names, so as a fuck you to those elitist assholes, we just call it Hom.”

“These are the same elitist assholes who flunked you for being a sky-lover?” I clarified.

“They’re slightly less elitists, but probably bigger assholes,” she confirmed. “It’ll be easier for you if you accept I’m the coolest dwarf you’re ever going to meet, and leave it at that.”

“Got it,” I leaned back on the