Page 14 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

The man on the stairs pauses. His eyes go wide when they land on Sam. They do not look alike, aside from the fact that they are both young, white men. The man on the stairs is taller, with dark hair that curls around his face. Sam’s face reflects shock, but only for a moment, until his expression twists in anger.

“Cassian.”

“Sam,” the man, Cassian, breathes. “Fuck, I never thought I’d see you again.”

Chapter Six

Dante

Iclench my jaw so tightly my teeth ache. We don’t have time for this. Of course, I’m not about to say it. Sam looks… scared. I think I’m the only one who can see it.

I dart my gaze up to the man who’s stopped on the stairs and revise that thought. He can see it, too. He wasn’t wearing a smile a second ago, but his expression was brighter. Now, his shoulders slump, and he drops down a step before he pauses again.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Sam says flatly. “Just like the rest of them.”

The rest of the mages. Almost all of them are dead now, and honestly, I hardly remember the wars happening at all. Our school was full of witches and the odd wolf; it was hardly a place for the mages to target. They shielded us from the worst of it, and outside of school, I wasn’t really part of a big magical community.

“No, I—” Cassian flushes. To my right, Isidore makes towards him, but Soren reaches out and tugs Isidore back. “Sorry. I should’ve—I should’ve reached out to you.”

Sam’s expressions shift so quickly that I almost can’t catalogue them, but me and Ophelia and Kieran—his mates can read him best of all, but outside of them, we know him, too. He’s angry. The fear is passing, replaced by anger, as tends to be the case with him.

The hurt… That’s new.

Paxton looks around as though he can see the shield Sam has thrown up around us. “They’re not going to hurt us.”

“He’s got every reason to,” Sam spits out, not taking his eyes off Cassian at all. “We need to—”

“We need to find her,” I say before he can finish. I get that he’s scared. I do. But it’s already been most of a day, and Ophelia is alone over there, and I’ll never forgive myself if she gets hurt because we took too long.

“He will not hurt any of you,” Lark says from behind us, his voice carefully even. I don’t look back at him. I can’t. “The only one in any danger here is me.”

Sam does take his eyes off Cassian then, if only to study Lark’s face. Like the rest of us, he’s not quite got used to the fact that the fae can’t tell a lie. Surely, that flat, practised tone is hiding something. But I don’t see why he would want to lie about this even if he could.

“More on your head then,” Sam mutters, and his shield falls. His magic doesn’t push on me so heavily now, and I take a deep breath.

Grant is the only one who seems utterly unconcerned. He watches Cassian approach, just like the rest of us, but he’s wearing a small smile.

“It’s good to meet you in person,” Cassian says. He sticks out his hand, and Grant shakes it, staring at him a little like he’s meeting a celebrity. For once, he’s silent.

Paxton shakes Cassian’s hand, too, but Sam shifts so he’s in front of me when Cassian’s attention drifts to us. I get it. Even with Lark here… I’m the weakest of the five of us. I don’t like to fight. I’ve seen death, sure, but I’m not sure I could kill, myself, even for the people I love most in the world.

“Sam,” Cassian breathes. “I really should have—”

“Later,” Sam snaps, cutting him off. Isidore starts forward again, this time with a little growl, but Soren pulls him firmly back again, then leans to whisper something in his ear. “We need to cross.”

“You can’t all cross,” Cassian says. He stares contemplatively at Lark for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend it for you at all. Vlad explained everything on the phone in the end. We argued about it.”

That has Grant perking up. “Argued? Why?”

“He does not know enough about the crossing,” Soren says. “Or the Otherworld. His choices are flawed.”

“Flawed how?” Sam asks, suspicion colouring his tone.

“For one, they’re not going to take kindly to a mage crossing over while they’re in the middle of all this,” Isidore spits. Sam stares blandly back at him.

“Why not?”

Cassian grimaces. He looks at Soren and Isidore, who seem to be encouraging him to say something, but Lark speaks before Cassian can.