The sword only hummed, its music undimmed by the heat.
Rae drew a breath, lifted the hammer, and struck.
The blade moved together, the hot metal catching and holding. Encouraged, Rae struck it again, then again. She began to hammer in earnest, not too hard, not too gently, as Broderick had instructed.
Her face warmed from the heat of the metal, perspiration trickling from where the goggles gripped her face. The blade flowed together. It was working.
Rae kept on beating it softly, melding the sword with little taps. They’d cool it then file and polish it, Broderick had said, and no one would ever see the break.
Zander stood on the opposite side of the anvil, his skin gleaming with the same heat. He didn’t look as hopeful as Rae, only eyed the sword watchfully.
The hammer’s head felt a little loose all of a sudden. Rae tapped it once more onto the sword.
The hammer broke with a pinging sound, the head flying. The Shifters and Piotr ducked out of the way as the hammer’s iron head sailed past them, smacked into the wall, and clattered to the cement floor.
Rae stared at the broken hammer, wide-eyed. “Sorry,” she said to Piotr.
Piotr took the handle from her. “It is only a hammer. They sell many of them in Homer.”
Rae felt bad for breaking it but when she looked at the sword, elation drowned out remorse. The sword lay before her, whole and unblemished. It winked under the work lights and reflected the forge’s red glow.
Rae wanted to pick up the sword, but Broderick told her it should sit for a while, cooling down and hardening. Finally, when Broderick said it was ready, Rae reached down and gently closed her hand around the hilt.
The sword came up with ease, its weight and balance back to normal. Rae carefully turned with it, both hands holding it steady.
Mason and Broderick backed away with Shifter instinct. No one wanted to feel the touch of the sword. Zander didn’t move, but he kept a careful eye on Rae.
“It seems all right,” Rae said. She turned the sword slowly from side to side, letting the blade move through the air. “I suppose I won’t know if it’s truly fixed until I use it.”
Broderick took another step back, raising his hands. “Not ready to be dust yet, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean that.” Rae grinned at him then moved into a fighting stance Zander had taught her. “You didn’t bring your bamboo practice sword, did you?”
“Not out here,” Zander answered. “You don’t need me. Pretend an evil Fae has just popped out of nowhere and do a lunge at him.”
The move was one Rae liked. She shifted the weight of the sword, her lower hand steadying the hilt, thrust her right foot forward, and jammed the point straight at the imaginary Fae. It went through him, slaying the invisible Fae, but the blade stayed whole.
Rae’s heart squeezed in relief. “Hot damn. Thank you, Mason. Broderick. Piotr.” She swung around to Zander and sent him a teasing look. “You too, I guess.”
Zander gave her a little nod, his eyes warm. “Anytime, Little Wolf.”
Rae whooped and spun the sword at her side.
The sword’s weight changed abruptly. Rae heard a snap like a crack of thunder, then a ring, and a clanging. The bottom part of the blade struck the floor and went spinning away, the top part still in her hand. The jagged crack between the two pieces was back, exactly as it had been before.
Rae screamed. She threw the hilted piece away from her, sending it skittering after its fellow, then she slammed herself to the ground on her backside.
“I give up!” she yelled.
Zander and the two brothers said nothing as Rae balled her fists and pounded the floor. Only Piotr ventured, “When metal is weakened, it is for always. Sometimes it can never be put right again.”
Rae managed to bite back the next scream, but she couldn’t stop her words. “Well, that’s just fucking perfect!”
“Little Wolf,” Zander began, his voice incredibly gentle. “We—”
Whatever he was going to say was drowned by the shrill peal of his cell phone. Zander growled as he grabbed it.
“Go for—” He caught Rae’s glare and amended his greeting. “Yeah?”
His expression stilled. Rae’s heart thumped, remembering the last time he’d been interrupted by a phone call. Ezra’s father had been dying and she’d been needed to perform the duty of a Guardian. She couldn’t this time, could she?
Zander shook his head at her, as though telling her this call was different. “Where?” he asked. “Are they sure?” Another pause. “I know, I know. If he’s sure, then it’s true.” Another pause while he listened. This time, Zander snorted a laugh. “Right, I’ll tell her not to come, but you know how obedient she is.”
Rae heard an answering laugh, one she recognized, then Zander said his farewells and hung up the phone.
“Where doesn’t my dad want me to go?” Rae demanded. “Even though I’m going anyway.”
“The Olympic Peninsula,” Zander answered without bothering to argue. “My friends have found the feral Shifters.”
* * *
Zander’s anger tightened as they made their way south in Marlo’s cargo plane. He was famous for keeping anger in check when everyone around him was falling apart, but right now, it was rising to consume him.
Rae sat unhappily next to him, cross-legged on a blanket, the Sword of the Guardian in front of her. Why the dumb-ass blade wouldn’t go back together, Zander didn’t understand. It was magical, so what the hell?
Why the Shifters of Rae’s town were such dickheads that they couldn’t lift a finger to support her, Zander didn’t understand either. He had the feeling that the sword was being a pain the ass to symbolize the divisiveness of the Shifters or something like that. Once they accepted Rae for what she was, acknowledged the Goddess’s choice, maybe then the sword would go together. Had nothing to do with mating—that had been Zander’s wishful thinking.
Feral Shifters who’d hurt a good man and his wife were running around, wild and free, while the beautiful Rae got shit on by her own people. It was enough to make Zander want to go on a polar bear rampage.
A decent rampage might help tamp down his mating frenzy as well, he reasoned. Might. All Zander knew is that he wanted to hurt everyone who’d hurt Rae then grab her and hole up with her until they were exhausted, sated, and happy.