Elfhome

“The half-oni will also have to conform to elfin culture. You will form households under the Wind Clan.”

“Why not the Stone Clan or the Fire Clan?”

Windwolf raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Has the Stone Clan offered?”

So Prince True Flame of the Fire Clan was so unlikely that it wasn’t even a question. “Not yet, but rumor has it that Forest Moss on Stone is quite insane, and capable of anything.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s the truth. I would not recommend him.”

“Because he’s insane?”

Windwolf shook his head. “I don’t know if he is as insane as he makes out to be; it might be a ploy he’s found useful. I believe, however, that the Stone Clan sent Forest Moss here because they saw him as expendable. If that’s true, he does not have firm backing by his clan. Nor does he have sekasha, which leave any household he builds vulnerable.”

“Ah.” Tommy fought a flash of respect for Windwolf. The elf was shrewd. Unfortunately, that could work to Tommy’s disadvantage.

“This is repayment.” Windwolf tapped the money on the table. “If you wish to establish a household under me, I will advance you stake money. You would be under my protection.”

Tommy had lived under the oni “protection” long enough to know that was a two-edged sword. “I’ll need time to think about it.”

Windwolf nodded. “We’re lifting martial law today. Do what you will, but know that the offer is still on the table.”

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Tommy collected the money, his bandana, his knife, his pistol and his freedom, in that order. With the money stuffed into his jeans’ pocket, he rode his hoverbike up to Mount Washington. There he sat, smoking a cigarette, looking down at the city. He spent years taking calculated risks trying to free himself from his father, Lord Tomtom, leader of the oni. Looking back, it was odd which ones led to this moment.

The most unlikely was staying silent when his father started looking for a man by the name of Alexander Graham Bell. Tommy knew Bell was really a teenage girl genius who went by the name of Tinker and ran a metal salvage company in McKees Rocks. He saw her and her cousin, Oilcan, every week at the hoverbike races. Knowing what his father would do to Tinker if he found her, Tommy went to her scrap yard to kill her. He told himself it was the merciful thing to do.

Tinker been working on an engine, but greeted him with a smile, a cold beer, and a blithe assumption that he cared about the inner workings of big machines. She was so small and trusting. He’d waited until she leaned back over the engine and wrapped his hand around her slender neck…

And realized he was rock hard with excitement. He was getting off on the idea of killing someone who, with her pulse pounding under his thumb, only looked at him with mild confusion. It was like the monster that was his father suddenly woke inside him and stretched against the limits of Tommy’s skin. It wanted out to fuck with something that had been beaten to bleeding and then kill it. Like Lord Tomtom had done to his mother. Like his father had tried to do to him.

Tommy jerked his hand back off Tinker’s neck and wiped it against his pants, wanting it clean. He wasn’t his father. He refused to be.

Three months after he’d fled his heritage and Tinker’s scrap yard, she killed Lord Tomtom, blocked the oni invasion, and kept Tommy from being beheaded. Of all his little rebellions, he would have never guessed that the most important had been wrapped around that small life. Knowing how close he came to killing her made him worry about what he should do next. It was so easy to misstep.

He took out the cash and counted it. The insurance adjustors had been generous. His family could rebuild the restaurant and still have a small nest egg. But it did nothing for the other families that looked to him for protection. He employed all the half-oni that couldn’t pass as human, making sure they could make ends meet without risking being discovered. His father’s warriors had always controlled his cash flow; his oni watch dogs had stripped Tommy bare before they fled. Then the elves locked down the city, shutting down his businesses. What little he had hidden away had been drained just keeping everyone fed.

If he took care of just his family, he lost the ability to do anything for the other half-oni. With the loss of that power base, he would be less able to defend his family. It was a self-defeating loop. The more he tried to protect his family alone, the less he would be able to do it. Any disaster would put them at the elves’ mercy. They’d go from being owned by the rabid oni to the being controlled by the rigid elves. Slavery, no matter who was the master, held unknown terrors of helplessness.

But if he used the money to restart his businesses, then it was more than enough to keep them free of elfin entanglements. The most profitable was running numbers on the hoverbike races. Now that martial law had been lifted, racing could start again. Carefully managed, he could grow the seed money.

And money meant freedom.

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