Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
“No, that’s not—” I stopped and gulped. “Damn it, she’s family. Whatever she’s done, whatever she might do, we share a bloodline, and I can’t forsake that connection completely.”
“I admire your willingness to risk all Deva for one who is unworthy of such consideration. But again, in this you have no choice.”
“Even so—” I stopped again and scraped a hand through my hair. “What happens if, for some reason beyond my control, she dies? Not at my hand, but someone else’s?”
“You bring us her body. Her spirit will not move on; she has touched the horn with ill intent, and her spirit will remain frozen in her flesh.”
I frowned. “How is something like that even possible?”
“She is an Aodhán, and both your line and the Tàileach were enhanced by the gods at the dawn of time. What the gods enhance, they can also alter. It is the way of such things.”
“Meaning if I piss off some god or goddess going forward—and I’ll have you know that seems to be a major talent of mine—I might find myself being altered in some way?”
Her smile flashed. “You are no mere Aodhán. You are a godling, and as such, cannot be otherwise adjusted.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“I would imagine so.” Her body uncoiled as she moved to one side. “You may go. My orb will once again lead the way.”
I nodded a goodbye and followed the bobbing green light back through the tunnels. As much as I wanted to ask about Mom and her interactions with the council, now was not the time. Once through the oily feeling door, I leaned my head against the wall and swore, long and hard. Then I grabbed my phone and rang my brother.
“We need to talk,” I said the minute he picked up. “Where are you?”
“Just about to head home.” Which in brother-speak meant he was probably another half hour away from leaving. “You want to come for dinner?”
I glanced at the time and saw with surprise it was close to seven. Liadon’s underground world definitely stretched the boundaries of time and place. “That would be great.”
“I’ll give Darby a heads-up then.” He paused. “You okay?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a big problem. I’ll explain when I get there.”
“I shall hurry myself up then.”
As I made my way down the stairs, I called for an Uber. By the time I got down to street level, it was absolutely chucking it down, but the worst of the peak hour traffic had at least passed, so it didn’t take us long to get across to Lugh’s.
As I hastily punched in the code to open the door and then dripped inside, Darby shouted out, “Wine or tea?”
“Both!”
She laughed, but I heard the tap running as she filled the kettle. I hung up my coat, then shucked off my boots and padded into the living area. The air was rich and warm, filled with the delightful scent of roast chicken.
“God, that smells divine.” I perched on the stool and accepted the white wine she handed me. “My brother is never going to let you go if you keep this up.”
“That is, of course, my wicked plan.”
I smiled and took a sip of the wine. It was a chardonnay that was rich, buttery, and quite lovely. “How’s the week off going?”
“Great—been spending time with Talein, Rossita, and Ruairí.”
Talein was Darby’s older brother and Ruairí his son, the first-born male in their generation, meaning the family had an heir to carry the name forward and all the pressure on Darby to marry and produce said heir had dissipated, allowing her to marry whoever she chose, whenever she chose. Of course, given the fertility differences between elves and pixies, Lugh would be well into his middle years by the time Darby reached her fertile period. Not that I thought either of them actually cared. I knew for certain Darby didn’t, as she and I had discussed that very thing many times over the years. I might have gently pushed my brother toward her, but only because I was certain she’d considered all the realities.
“Is he still impressing everyone with the power of his lungs?”
“Believe me, when that boy wants to be fed, the entire encampment knows about it.” She made a mug of tea then pushed it across the counter toward me. “Oh, before I forget, Win called me. He’s got some names for you, and wants to meet for morning tea tomorrow, if you’re free.”
And was no doubt anticipating more sticky buns. “I gather he talked to Harold then?”
“No, Marjorlaine.”
My eyebrows rose. “I thought he quit because he didn’t see eye to eye with her?”
“He did, but as he noted, an ice witch running around Deva causing havoc does the guild no good at all. I also suspect he might have put a rocket up the woman’s butt—he might have retired but he still has a lot of respect and pull within the guild.”
“Which makes it all the more shameful that he’s basically been forgotten by the guild.”
“He has a pension with them, but he’s philosophical about the lack of contact otherwise. Says it’s natural for friendships to fade with time.”
“Our fucking friendship had better not,” I growled, in mock anger.
She laughed. “Not a chance in hell. Besides, I’m going to be your sister-in-law, so there will be no escaping me.”
I lightly clicked my wine glass against hers. “Are you coming to Win’s too?”
“No, I’m babysitting for my sister to give her a break.”
“Then do you think he’ll mind if I bring Mathi along?”
She shook her head. “From what he’s said, he’s done some work for the Dhār-Vals in the past. Could be a meeting of old friends.”
“Let’s all hope it was a good working relationship rather than a bad one,” I said, amused.
“If it was a bad one,” she said dryly, “I’m thinking he wouldn’t be here to talk about it.”
“I can’t imagine Win double-crossing anyone, let alone a Dhār-Val. He strikes me as the wily, common-sense type.”
Darby took a drink, a speculative light flaring in her eyes. “So, have you done it yet?”
I frowned. “Done what?”
She rolled her eyes. “Put on the Bruadar bracelet and had amazing dream sex?”
“I have not.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, I just—” I paused and shrugged. “There’s a part of me that believes I should use the next three months to sort out where my relationship with Eljin is going. And it’s not like my relationship with Cynwrig is end game anyway.”
“That makes total and utter sense, so why the hesitancy? Aside from the fact Myrkálfar elves are as addictive as hell when it comes to sex.”
“I honestly don’t know.”
She took a sip of her wine, her expression thoughtful. “Is instinct twitching?”
“No. Not really.” I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe I’m just afraid to open my heart because I don’t want it stomped on.”
“A perfectly legitimate fear, given your shitty record with men, but one you’re going to have to confront if you ever want what your mom had with Sgott—because that is your ideal, isn’t it?”
She knew well enough it was, having heard me talk about it over the years. “I know, but?—”
“Look,” she cut in, her tone and expression serious. “Has Eljin stopped going out with other women? Has he mentioned wanting to take the next logical step—moving in together, forsaking all others, that sort of thing?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Has Lugh?”
“Not yet, but he will. I do have an advantage over you though—I’ve known the man for a very long time now and have watched his relationships with other women from afar. I can practically see his moves before he makes them. And you avoided the question.”
I smiled and drank some tea. If I had too much wine before my meal, it’d go straight to my head—and I’d already had more than enough headaches recently. “He did say he’d have to ensure the competition remained in the wings over the next three months, but I don’t think he was serious.”
“Then put on the bracelet and have some fun, no harm done.”
“Except, maybe, for a deepening of that addiction you mentioned a second ago.”
She laughed, but the seriousness remained in her gaze. “I believe the Myrkálfar crown has the same rules and restrictions as the Ljósálfar, which means he will have to take a wife at the coronation. Your time with him is likely limited anyway.”
Perhaps that was why the lovely Orlah was now part of his harem. Perhaps, given what little he’d said about their previous relationship, he was well aware they were compatible in the bedroom and out. It also explained their sudden urgency in finding Geitha’s Tears—perhaps it would be bequeathed to the woman who’d be the next king’s wife.
An image of Orlah—tall, dark-skinned, with long, curly black hair and a to-die-for figure wearing the gorgeous necklace I’d been commissioned to find—flashed up in my mind. I picked up my wine and took an indecently large gulp. It made my head buzz, but it also shoved the image from the forefront of my mind.
“I thought Myrkálfar only married for love?”
“The royal line comes with certain responsibilities, and marriage is treated very differently. When one generation is crowned, the next must be born to ensure succession.”
“I knew succession was a priority for highborn Ljósálfar but had no idea it also applied to the Myrkálfar.”
“ Only to the royal line.”
Which was of course why Fate decided to throw one of the heirs my way, because why not twist the knife a little deeper?
The door opened, and Lugh came in with a cheery, “And how are the two most important people in my life this fine evening?”
I raised my eyebrows, my gaze meeting Darby’s. Happiness shone from hers, and with good reason—she’d definitely had a major boost up my brother’s emotional rankings.
“We’re good,” we both echoed together, before she added, “I take it you found a new relic for the museum?”
He laughed as he walked around the bench, then kissed her soundly. “And outbid several other museums in the process.”
“Congrats, brother,” I said, raising my glass. “Are we allowed to know this relic’s name?”
“Arion’s Flute.”
I frowned. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“It was one of the relics Vincentia sold off to a private collector. I believe I might have ranted about it for a day or so.”
Because he’d always believed selling important relics—be they godly or not—to private collectors was utterly wrong. The fact that Vincentia had been behind the sale only made his acquisition all that much sweeter.
He accepted the wine Darby poured him with a nod then returned his attention to me. “So, what is this problem you mentioned on the phone?”
“No business discussions over dinner,” Darby said. “Food first. Go set the table while I pull everything out of the oven.”
“She’s becoming very bossy,” he commented, amusement tugging at his lips even as he obeyed.
“She’s always been bossy,” I said dryly. “You’ve just never been the focus of it until now.”
“And hey,” she said breezily. “At least you’re getting to see all my faults before things get too serious.”
“Hmmm” was all he said to that.
We ate dinner, chatting about everything and everything except Eljin and the reason I was here. It wasn’t until dessert was eaten—sticky date pud with caramel sauce—and we’d retired to the sofa that I told Lugh about Borrhás’s demands.
“Look, she’s kin, and under normal circumstances, I would say we simply can’t comply, but she escaped the red knife and is now hunting everyone she believes killed Vincentia, including you.” He scraped a hand across his chin. “And given Borrhás’s threat, what choice do we really have?”
“You don’t,” Darby said, voice flat. “The only real choice either of you have is whether you hand her over alive or dead. Aside from the fact that doing anything else would risk the lives of all in Deva, would not disobeying Borrhás’s order and allowing destruction bring the blood curse down on you both?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t think there’s ever been a situation that’s tested the rules that way, but I just can’t stomach the thought of handing her over alive. And yet, I also can’t just kill her, thanks to the curse.”
“Nor I,” Lugh admitted softly.
“Then you need to make sure she attacks you, and you need to ensure you don’t pull your punches. Either of you.” Her gaze ran from me to Lugh and back again. “I’m a healer. I fix life rather than take it, but I’m also an Ljósálfar elf, and I see no gray here. It comes down to a simple choice—one death, or many.”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. She was right, but knowing that didn’t make me feel any better.
“It’s also a decision we don’t have to make straight away,” Lugh said. “We’ve got to find her first. It may well be that she’ll come to her senses and retreat.”
“Which is not going to help us or our decision at all, because there was no ifs or buts. It was ‘bring her to Borrhás or else.’” I rose. “On that somber note, I’d better get back home.”
“Call an Uber,” Lugh said immediately, “or let me drive you.”
“I’m fine?—”
“And she’s still out there,” he growled. “I know we’d all feel better if she took the decision from us and attacked, but let’s not make it too easy for her.”
“I wasn’t intending to, brother mine.”
I immediately called said Uber, then, once the app said it was close, hugged them both goodbye, grabbed my coat, and headed out. The rain had cleared, but thunder still rumbled overhead, and the night remained bitterly cold.
That unseen presence in the wind remained.
I shivered and cautiously reached out, trying to find his or her location. The minute I did, the presence retreated.
I swore in frustration and climbed into the Uber as it halted in front of me. It didn’t take all that long to get home, as it was almost midnight and the streets basically empty. Once back in the tavern, I dumped my purse on the coffee table then lit the fire—as usual saying a small thank-you prayer over the wood for its sacrifice—then walked over to the kitchenette to make myself a hot chocolate. It might be late, and I should have been tired, but an uneasy energy ran through me, and I had no idea if its source was the still rumbling sky or the prickling knowledge that I was still being watched.
I made my hot chocolate, then retreated to my chair, tucking my legs underneath me as I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Mathi, detailing everything Liadon had said.
His reply was almost instant. Not a hard decision, Bethany.
An opinion Darby shares.
And why would you expect her to say anything else, when the man she loves and her best friend are in the firing line? If you’re looking for someone to talk you out of what you know you must do, you’d be better discussing the matter with Sgott rather than any of us elves.
I knew that. I also knew there was no way I was going to burden him with that sort of decision. Listen, I’ve a morning tea-date with Win Frost, who’s a retired storm witch. You want to come along?
I take it this storm witch might have some names for us?
According to Darby, yes. We can go talk to them straight after, if you’d like.
Sounds like a plan. What time? I’ve got to update the council at nine, but I can delay if necessary.
He said ten, so plenty of time.
Perfect. Shall l pick you up at the end of the lane?
Please.
See you then.
I sent him back a smile, then tucked the phone away and sipped my chocolate, watching the flames dance as the storm continued to threaten overhead. Its energy ran across my skin and made the tiny hairs at the back of my neck rise.
The presence was back.
I could hear the vibration of it in the storm, feel it in the wind stirring through my bedroom’s open window. The energy felt more male than female, which meant that, given I’d sent the wind on a mission to find the witch using the horn, whoever it was, they weren’t the horn’s wielder. They also felt some distance away and oddly uncoupled—which made absolutely no sense. The wind also spoke of height, of steep sandstone cliffs overlooking a meandering river. Which was decidedly more information than Beira had suggested was possible.
But if this witch was working with my aunt, then why wasn’t she attacking? Why was she simply keeping tabs on me? Was Mathi right, and she was saving me for last? If that were the case, then who else was on her list? She’d already hit Kaitlyn and the Myrkálfars’ building, and really, the only other person she could go after was Rogan, and I knew for certain he was dead, having witnessed his bones being burned to ashes.
I had a bad feeling we’d soon discover the answer to that particular question.
I shoved the worry that insight raised aside, grabbed my purse from the coffee table, and tugged the bracelet’s box from its depths. The midnight stone bracelet reacted the minute I opened the lid, the tiny stars seeming to shine with anticipation. I once again ran a finger across its surface and the pulsing energy that caressed my fingers felt stronger, sharper. It was tempting, so tempting, to put it on and see what happened, but uncertainty held me back.
I needed more than assumptions and theories before I donned anything that held this much magic.
I snapped the lid back on and shoved the box back to the bottom of my purse. Then, before I could really think about it, I sent a text to Treasa. I had no idea if she knew about Cynwrig’s gift, but given I couldn’t talk to him about it without actually using it, she was my next best option. After telling her what he’d done, I added that I would not accept the gift until I knew more about it and the consequences of wearing it.
Then I drained the rest of my hot chocolate, placed the fire screen over the fire to catch any embers, and went to bed.
And once again dreamed of deception.
Mathi’s driver ushered me into the car and nodded without comment when I mentioned we needed to go to Panna’s first to pick up an order. As he smoothly headed back into the traffic, Mathi looked me up and down and then said, “Bad night?”
“Is that a polite way of saying I look like shit?”
He smiled but there was concern in his eyes. “You’ve rather large bags under your eyes. It is not a good look.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I keep having these dreams of deception, but they come with no goddamn details, and it’s annoying.”
“Interesting, given said dreams didn’t warn you about Rogan.”
“Exactly.” And really, they should have, given Rogan had tried to toss me into that Annwfyn’s gate in Pynwffynnon.
“Perhaps the dreams will become clearer as your talent grows stronger.”
“Yeah, but what do I do in the meantime? Look suspiciously at everyone?”
He laughed. “Maybe just be cautious about letting anyone new into your life.”
“I have more than enough men in my life, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Like hell.”
He laughed again and, as his driver drew to a stop, leaned forward and said, “Henrick, can you collect Miss Aodhán’s order and bring me the receipt?”
“Mathi, you can’t pay?—”
“I can charge the council for expenses. You cannot.”
Which was absolutely true, so I didn’t argue any further. Henrick came back a few minutes later, handed us the coffees and the buns, then smoothly drove off to the address I gave him. We arrived right on ten, and Win was waiting at the door.
His bushy gray eyebrows rose when he spotted Mathi. “You wouldn’t be Amir Dhār-Val’s boy, would you?”
“His nephew.” Mathi held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Frost.”
He laughed. “Not sure your uncle would agree with that. We’ve had some words over the years.”
“As have I,” Mathi said dryly.
Win laughed again and ushered us inside. I led the way into the kitchen, and Win shuffled after us. This time, the table had already been set.
I put the coffees down, then used the tongs to place three buns on the serving platter and handed him the remainder. His cheeks dimpled. “You’re definitely spoiling me.”
I sat down with a smile. “According to Darby, you’re chattier when you’re well fed, and I need to pick your brain.”
His grin flashed, but he nevertheless tucked the extra buns into the bread bin before sitting back down and reaching for the butter. “And what would you be needing to pick my brains about? More than just the names of the ice witches you came here for, I take it?”
I nodded. “There’s a storm witch following me via the wind, and he seems to be operating from a position of height—some place that has sandstone cliffs overlooking a meandering river. I don’t suppose there’s a special place you lot gather to muster storms is there?”
“No, there is not, though that might have changed since my day.” He took a sip of coffee and made an appreciative noise. “There’s really only one hill around these parts that fits that description—Helsby Hill.”
Which wasn't a place I’d ever been to, but I could vaguely remember seeing it on various motorway signs I’d passed over the years. “He also felt disconnected. Unanchored, if you will.”
“It’s a rare talent to be feeling such a thing,” Win commented.
“‘Rare’ and ‘Bethany’ have become synonymous with each other,” Mathi said dryly. “It makes interesting times even more so.”
Win’s gaze ran between us. “You two together?”
“Sadly, no,” Mathi said before I could.
“Why not? What’s wrong with you, lad?”
“Bethany deserves more than I could ever offer her, though that doesn’t mean I do not want her back in my bed, and she is well aware of this.”
“She is,” I replied dryly. “Just as he’s aware why that will not happen. Now, can we please get this conversation back on track?”
Win laughed. “I’d apologize, but it would be a lie. I’ve always been a bit of a nosy parker—it’s part of the reason Marjorlaine dislikes me so much. Anyways, if this witch feels unanchored, then he likely is. It means his ties to the guild have been severed.”
“He must have done something pretty nasty for the guild to take such an action,” Mathi commented. “They’re renowned for looking the other way in their desperation to keep members and, even more importantly, their tithes.”
“Aye,” Win said. “Once you’re in, it’s usually hard to get out unless you retire or die.”
Which was another point in the favor of not asking the guild for help. “This guy feels young, so the severance must have happened recently. You heard gossip along those lines?”
“A severance is a dire event and cannot be described as mere gossip, young lady.” His voice was severe, but amusement twinkled in his eyes. “If he’s young, then it likely means he is—was—attending the training academy and living in. There’s only been one severance from there and it happened some three years ago—a young witch ignored the rules and ended up destroying part of the damn accommodation wing.”
“I take it he killed some students?” I asked.
“Worse,” Win grumbled. “He took out two house cats.”
“That says a lot about the value the guild puts on their trainees’ lives,” Mathi commented dryly. “Even we Ljósálfar elves do not value a feline’s life over that of humans, and everyone knows just how little we value humans.”
Win chuckled. “One reason why I remain surprised that I didn’t end up fertilizer for some tree in one of your plantations. Amir did threaten it more than once.”
“He must have rated your services more than he indicated,” Mathi said. “He is not one for recanting threats.”
I suspected there was more than a little of that in Mathi, even if he rarely showed that side to me. I munched on more bun, then picked up my coffee and leaned back in the chair. “Do you happen the know the name of the young man whose tenancy was severed?”
Win frowned. “Ascott, I think. Tony Ascott.”
“As in, Ascott Weather Services?” Mathi asked.
The older man nodded. “You know them?”
“I’ve had dealings with them.”
I glanced at him. “Enough that you could contact them and perhaps get them to bring their son in? Because the minute I go anywhere near his location, he’ll feel it and run.”
Mathi smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. “They’ll cooperate. In fact, I’ll give them a call now. The sooner we sort him out, the better.”
As he rose and headed out to the hall to make the call, Win said, “And that, right there, is pure Amir.”
“I would have said it was more his father than his uncle, but same thing, I guess.” I paused. “How dangerous is this kid likely to be?”
“He’s quick to temper and has something of a superiority complex, according to what I heard.”
Meaning the likelihood of him being very dangerous was high. “Is his belief justified?”
“Both his parents are competent storm witches, but his abilities are stronger than either. The temper, however, is his downfall.” His gaze narrowed. “I’m thinking that you, however untrained you might be, could take him.”
I smiled. “Except for the fact the minute he feels my presence in the wind, he retreats.”
“Then don’t let him feel you.”
“Easily said, not so easily done when you haven’t a clue as to how to disguise your presence.”
“Ah, well, that is a problem.” His expression became thoughtful. “If you’re not willing to go to the guild for training, then perhaps you need to seek private tutoring. It’s not my field, but I’ve a friend who might be able to help, if you don’t mind paying a fee.”
“More than happy to.”
“Then I’ll contact her and see what she says. She’s semi-retired these days, but she does still do some outsource tutoring for those who aren’t skilled enough to enter the academy.”
“That would be brilliant, thanks.”
He nodded. “Now, I’d better give you those names I promised, because it’s likely our young Dhār-Val will have set up the meeting and be wanting to leave the minute he gets off the phone.”
I smiled. “Probably.”
“There’s two—Martha Gale and Amara Li. Harold’s opinion is that, of the two, Martha is your more likely candidate. There was an incident at the guild’s Whitlow branch, and she was held accountable. She wasn’t severed but did ‘retire’ shortly after. According to Harold, she was extremely unhappy with the guild’s handling of the whole affair.”
“I don’t suppose he gave you a description of either woman?”
“Amara’s allegiance lies with the Japanese guild, though she is currently working in the UK as a private tutor, so he wasn’t able to access much information about her. He did access Whitlow’s archives, however, and he sent me Martha’s profile picture.”
He reached into his pocket for his phone, then brought up the image and showed it to me. The woman on the screen had a thin, wrinkled face, silvery blue eyes, and short spiky hair that glittered silver.
It was the same woman that I’d seen in my vision.
“That’s her,” I said. “That’s our ice witch.”
Win raised his eyebrows. “You sound very certain.”
I grimaced. “I’ve second sight and had a vision of her when she was attacking the Myrkálfar building. Can you send me the image? I’ll forward it on to the IIT and they can put out a warrant.”
He did so. “I take it you’re also working with the IIT on this matter?”
I nodded. “Sgott Bruin also happens to be my stepdad.”
Win blinked. “You’re Meabh’s little girl? Well, I’ll be damned.”
This time it was my eyebrows that shot up. “You knew Mom?”
He nodded. “Met her a couple of times in the course of guild business. Lovely woman. How’s she doing these days?”
“She died, I’m afraid.”
“Ah, so sorry to hear that.”
Mathi strode back into the room, saving me from saying anything else. Exactly as Win had predicted, he said, “I’ve a meeting with the Ascotts at eleven-thirty. They’ll ensure Tony is there, so once I go in to ensure the kid is in check, you can come in and question him.”
I glanced at my phone. It was close to eleven now. “Where are we meeting them?”
“Helsby.”
Which was a good twenty minutes away. I drained my coffee and pushed to my feet. “We’d better be leaving then.”
“Yes.” Mathi glanced at Win. “I apologize for cutting our visit so abruptly.”
Win waved a hand. “Council business takes priority over visiting old men, lad.”
I swung my purse over my shoulder and picked up the remains of my bun. “I’ll make up for our sudden exit with a visit next week.”
“I should have an answer from Kitty about the tutoring by then.”
Mathi’s car was already waiting out the front. Once we’d climbed in and were on our way, I said, “If this kid is as volatile as Win says, he might well attack you before his parents can restrain him.”
“That is entirely possible,” Mathi agreed, “but a good twenty percent of their livelihood comes from contracts we have with them. I believe they will do as they promised.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Lazy amusement played around his lips. “But fear I’m not?”
“Things have been falling into place a little too easily for my liking.”
“Maybe Fate has decided to be gentle on us for a change.”
“And maybe tomorrow you’ll fall madly in love.”
He laughed. “Such perfection does not exist.”
“I thought you were looking for compatibility rather than perfection?”
“I am, but if we’re talking about love, then elven perfection is perhaps the only thing that could draw it from my cold, unemotional heart.”
I rolled my eyes. “How are we going to play this? Me waiting in the car is unlikely to work. He’ll be wary and will sense my presence the minute you open the door.”
“If you’re not in the front or the back seat, then he can’t possibly ‘see’ you through the open car door and has no reason to be suspicious.”
I stared at him for a second. “You want me to hide in the trunk?”
“Only for a few minutes.”
“Large pixies and car trunks are not compatible.” At least, they weren’t with this large pixie.
He patted my knee. “You’ll be fine. I’ve had larger bodies than you in there.”
I continued to stare at him, uncertain as to whether he was kidding or not. He merely raised his eyebrows, as if daring me to ask. I didn’t. As he’d noted before, there were some things I was better off not knowing.
Once we were close to our destination, Henrick pulled the car over. I retrieved my knives and phone from my purse, then climbed—grumbling all the way—into the trunk.
“It’ll take two minutes to get there. Henrick will release the catch three minutes after I head in,” Mathi said, not quite able to control his amusement. “That should give me enough time to ensure Tony is present and that his parents do have him under control.”
I didn’t reply, but I did glare. He laughed and slammed the trunk lid back down, enclosing me in darkness. A few seconds later, we were back underway. The following five minutes were probably the longest of my life. I wasn’t claustrophobic, but my heart was beating as loudly as any drum, and sweat trickled down the side of my face. Fear, no doubt due to watching too many movies where bad things happened to women stuck in trunks.
The hum of tires on bitumen was soon replaced by the crunch of gravel. A few seconds later, we stopped. I gripped the Eye in an attempt to remain distant from the wind, and wished, with everything I had, there was some way I could shield from the force that hunted around the car. That thought had no more crossed my mind when energy stirred across my fingers and the knives pulsed in response. A heartbeat later, a faint curtain of purplish light fell around my body. Surprise stirred; while the knives had always protected me from magic, I had no idea they could also form other sorts of shields. But then, until this moment, I’d never actually wished for such a thing while gripping the Eye. Perhaps that was?—
I cut the rest of that thought off as the car door opened and Mathi stepped out. The rattling wind whipped inside; thick fingers of air slipped into the boot, sliding over the shield without seeming to recognize anything was there or that I hid underneath it. As the fingers pulled back, the fierce, suspicious pulse running through the air eased, though it didn’t entirely go away. Tony remained on edge, primed and ready to explode.
I’d have to move fast when I got out, because I had a really bad feeling Tony’s parents had overstated their ability to control their son.
Footsteps crunched across the gravel, then a door opened. After a brief conversation, they moved inside and the door closed. I waited, my heart beating so loudly it seemed to echo in the shadowed confines of the trunk. The seconds ticked by slowly, and just as I was ready to scream for Henrick to open the damn thing, he did so. I released the Eye, letting the soft shield fade as I pushed upright and swung my feet over the edge.
In that instant, the wind roared back to life. It swept underneath the car, lifted it with dizzying speed high into the air, then flung it violently away. I yelped and braced, but before I could even think, let alone retaliate, the wind whipped in, wrapped violent arms around my body, and ripped me free.
Then, with all the fury of an unsound mind, it flung me with deadly force back toward the ground.