Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Saber
I watched Zak sort the potions on his worktable into two groups. The potions weren’t labeled. Instead, they were in clear glass vials and bottles that allowed him to see the color and consistency.
He studied a dull green liquid, then set it aside. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Nodding, he picked up another vial, considered it for a moment, and added it to the smaller collection of bottles. “You’re packed and ready?”
“Yes.”
He separated the last few bottles, then returned the larger group to the shelves. “We could wait.”
“I don’t want to wait. They know I’m here. They know you’re here.”
He turned to face me, his green eyes sharp. “No, they don’t. At best, they might suspect I’m still alive, but it’s more likely that they think you have some of my artifacts. They want whatever is left of my power, not me.”
“Even if you’re right, we can’t sit here and wait.” I widened my stance, hands clenched at my sides. “We can’t guard the property every moment of every day. If they make it to the house, if they so much as get a camera this far, they’ll see you. And if they see you, it’s over.”
Zak crossed the short distance to me and curled his hands over my upper arms, squeezing gently. “Saber, do you really think we would go down that easily?”
I bit my lip, fear squeezing my heart. “I can’t lose you.” My hands slid to my lower belly. “I can’t do this without you.”
“You won’t have to.”
I’m inclined to agree, dove. A pale shimmer distorted the wall as a snow-white owl drifted through it. Ríkr perched on the worktable between potion bottles. Simply say the word, and I will ensure no intruder lives long enough to disturb you.
I slashed a look across his feathered form. “Have you recovered your strength?”
He ruffled his feathers. Not entirely.
I pulled away from Zak’s warm touch. I didn’t regret asking Ríkr to help Kit.
I owed Kit my life—and Zak’s life. But I hadn’t anticipated the toll it would take on him.
As a fae lord, he was among the most powerful fae, but pitted against a fire elemental in the heart of its desert territory, I feared the battle had been closer than Ríkr wanted to admit.
He wasn’t injured, but he needed time to recuperate.
“If these Special Investigations agents call in a strong enough coven or several bounty teams or …” I looked between Zak and Ríkr. “We could be overwhelmed. Waiting is too risky.”
Zak’s eyebrows drew together, pulling at his scarred features, but he nodded. Ríkr said nothing, his silence an acquiescence. They didn’t agree, but they were letting me decide.
I swallowed against the dry tightness in my throat. “Have you heard anything else from Kit?”
“No. Nothing.”
I swiped my bangs away from my eyes. My phone was in my pocket, and on it were messages from Tori asking how I was doing—a new one every day since the Crow and Hammer had been disbanded.
If we fled into the wilderness where the MPD couldn’t find us, no one else would be able to reach us either.
Ríkr clicked his beak. He will need to speak with you again.
I frowned. “What?”
Kit will need to speak with one of you—or both. His control over his abilities is disturbingly poor. And I admit, I am curious as to how he was concealing them.
Zak’s frown was even deeper than mine. “What abilities? What are you talking about?”
Ríkr blinked his large azure eyes. Did I not mention it?
“Mention what?” I growled.
Ah. I was rather fatigued upon my return. My apologies. His avian head swiveled between us. Kit Morris possesses druidic abilities. Or rather, he was utilizing druidic abilities of a sort when I located him at the desert crossroads.
“That’s impossible,” Zak said flatly.
“Druidic abilities ‘of a sort’?” I repeated.
His aura was not that of a witch or a druid, Ríkr explained, his tone musing.
It was something similar yet unique, and quite different from my cursory inspection of his aura in the past. I recall mythics long ago with comparable auras, but my preoccupation in those times was with the affairs of my own kind.
Zak and I shared a look of disbelief. How could Kit have druidic abilities? What was going on?
My gaze slid to the potions Zak had selected—the ones we would take with us, leaving the rest behind. Leaving everything behind.
I let out a slow breath.
“We should continue preparing so that when … if we need to leave, we’ll be ready. But for now, let’s wait.” I turned to Zak. “And keep your phone on. Just in case.”