Chapter 30 #2
Rage curled Whitman’s hands into fists again.
“And then the king announced the veil was to be permanently closed, so I slipped through. I found my way in this world, I gained power again, and I came for her, but by then she had you. And your tiny little brother. Do you know how rare fae births are? She was never going to choose me, and she wasn’t even sorry. ”
“So you killed her for it?”
Grief flickered across his face, there and gone.
“I didn’t mean to kill her. I was so angry, so ashamed and hurt, I grabbed her and it exploded out.
It shouldn’t—wouldn’t—have killed her in normal circumstances.
She was beloved here. But she was weak. She’d been sapping her own power for centuries, helping people, curing illness, channeling her magic into the elixir for your father.
The same one he came crawling to beg me for in the end. ”
I jammed my hands in my pockets and fought down the lump in my throat. I couldn’t tell if he was truthful or not. It was an unsettling feeling. “And then you murdered him too because he was desperate enough to ask for your help?”
Whitman’s features twisted inhuman. “Because she was mine and he took her. I was humiliated, but I dealt with it civilly. I was generous. Then it was his fault that she died! Even so, I was going to leave him alone, I was going to let him raise the two of you and pretend none of it ever happened. I didn’t even keep tabs on any of you.
But your filthy father came along and brought it all back up.
He knew what I was and he threatened to expose me if I didn’t give him the elixir and I hated him. I lost control.”
“And Salter went back on his word with you. He was a threat.”
“Yes.”
“Is he the one who told you about Mr. North’s investigation?”
Whitman shrugged, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. “He told me everything: contacting you, Ted, and Mr. North. How Mr. North believed him, was spying on me and trying to collect evidence.”
“Did he also know you were fae?” The longer I kept him talking, the better for Ted and Mary-Alice. They needed time to get out of the city.
“If he didn’t before he died, he certainly did after he was run off the road.” Whitman grinned, evil, full of sharp white teeth. “I watched him bleed out. I could have killed him faster, but watching him weaken and lose hope and die? I savoured that. No one threatens me. No one.”
Jesus. “What about Ted? Why go after him? Why not come to us instead, tell us what we are. Explain yourself. Don’t you think you could have reasoned with us? Why make him into an enemy? You could have offered to help us.”
Whitman’s face brightened like he was going to laugh. “You think I should have helped you? You’re abominations. But I admit, you could have been useful if I’d been able to overcome my distaste for your father. You do look so much like your mother.”
Something in his gaze made me sick, unease inching over my skin at the slight touch of his magic against mine. The lush scent of green forest and wild things filled the air.
“But you didn’t. Over-overcome it,” I stammered.
“Your brother married that Irish scum. Even if I wanted to speak with him, they’d have poisoned him against me.
But you…” He wet his lips and took a step toward me, skin beginning to glow gold, beautiful and elegant in a way that had been muted before.
Buzzing horror prickled my scalp. “You and I. I could teach you to use your magic. I could be convinced you don’t intend to threaten me. ”
I couldn’t keep looking at him. I couldn’t breathe. “I’m not a threat. How could I be?”
“Oh, sweetness.” His predatory gaze swept from the tips of my toes slowly up to meet mine. “When you’ve been around as long as I have, you learn anyone can be a threat. You’ll have to try harder than that.”
Shutting my eyes, I took a deep breath and tried to think.
Wanting to survive was a powerful instinct.
Wanting to learn about my magic, to successfully use my magic was something I’d longed for most of my life, something I’d shoved so deep I hardly ever thought about it because it was too painful to constantly face. Like my memories of August North.
But this was too high a cost. Far, far too high a cost. I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not ever. I’d rather die right here and now. When I raised my lashes, Whitman was too close, and I jumped back.
“No.”
Whitman’s face darkened, fury in his eyes flashing with black swirling mist. Then they flew wide as gunshots rang out from somewhere in the house.
Who the hell? More gunshots volleyed and footsteps thumped, heading our way.
Whitman lunged for something on his desk.
Before I could process what was happening, he’d grabbed my arm, spinning me so we both faced the door with something pointy jabbing under my chin.
I grasped his wrist instinctively but didn’t dare try pulling it away.
My heart slammed into my throat as the door banged open, Gus and Meggie O’Shea standing there, the two best things I’d ever seen. They were a little sweaty and out of breath, but they looked stone cold emotionless.
“You might as well drop the knife, Whitman,” Gus said, confident even though he wasn’t holding a gun like Meggie.
“You know who Meggie O’Shea is, and there’s a dozen of her best guys behind us.
Yours are already dead. It’s time to give up.
You can still leave Halifax with your life, but if you harm a hair on Kit’s head, you won’t make it out of this house. ”
Whitman’s grip tightened. The blade nicked my skin. I held my breath, muscles tensing as primal terror raced along my spine. He was going to kill me, and then them.
“Come closer, and I’ll cut his throat,” Whitman promised. “You can’t stop me with a bullet, but my fae-made blade can certainly bleed him dry if you fire.”
A quiet whisper started from behind Gus. Agnes spellcasting.
I sent my magic racing down my arms in a hot electric shooting pain, uncontrolled and meant as a distraction, but Whitman felt it before I could release my hold.
He dug the blade into my neck just as Agnes ducked under Gus’ arm and blew a handful of grass, crushed flower petals, and ash toward us.
Gasping as Whitman drew the blade across my throat, I recoiled, expecting agony and gushing blood.
Instead, there was a gurgling sound behind me as a spatter of warmth hit the side of my face, soaking into my hair.
In the same instant, a loud bang reverberated off the walls.
Whitman’s hand fell away and he crumpled to the floor. My vision went hazy; my legs shook. I sucked in air, struggling to make sense of how I wasn’t dead. Meggie’s pistol. It was raised in her steady grip. As I watched, she held it still for a moment before dropping her arm to her side.
Glancing back and down at Whitman, I gagged when I saw the deep gash under his chin.
It should’ve been on mine. But Agnes had used the same spell she’d saved Marion’s life with.
She’d rebounded the damage he meant to cause me onto him.
Then Meggie had made sure the death stuck by blowing his brains out.
Or was that actually enough to kill a fae?
“Oh, shit,” I whispered, sagging. Gus surged forward, catching and steadying me before I fell flat on my face. “I thought…”
“You thought you’d sacrifice yourself for your brother and get yourself killed,” Gus growled into my hair. “Instead of calling your friends to help, you asshole.”
Agnes reached us and her face was pure concern. “I couldn’t let him hurt you, Kit. Marion would never forgive me.”
Pulling away from Gus, I squeezed her close. “She’s never going to forgive me for making you use your magic to hurt someone again. Even if he was a monster.”
“You didn’t make me do anything. I chose to.” She took a deep breath and stepped away. “We can talk about all this later. It’s time to leave now.”
I checked over my shoulder again to make sure Whitman’s crumpled body was still there. The gravity of the situation hit me and panic reared up. “We’re all going to jail. Do you have any idea how much he’s worth? The Mounties will be here any minute.”
“Now, now,” Meggie clucked, her hands on her hips. “No one’s going to jail. There’s no one left alive other than Mrs. Whitman. She’s been in my pocket for years, she’s been trying to get away from that cruel fae fucker for a long time, and we just saved her behind.”