Wichita, Kansas – October, 2017
I hummed “Feel It Still” by Portugal the Man as I finished digging the hole. Isla and Wallace hadn’t had much information to share, and by now I’d learned how to know if they were holding something back.
Torture methods had been discussed in a theoretical way during my Royal Guard training, but back then I’d never had occasion to use them. Things had certainly changed. I even carried around tools for that specific purpose.
As of tonight, only nine luchd-òl fola were left.
I’d forgotten to ask Isla and Wallace about Kinnon, but they’d each only had nine connections that weren’t with each other, and by my count that meant he wasn’t with the group anymore.
Kinnon was either dead or he’d left them a long time ago.
The uncertainty itched in the back of my brain, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
The remaining nine luchd-òl fola were still kidnapping Wonders, and that’s what I had to focus on.
I was having a hard time reining in my impatience. I was ready to finish this. Finish them. But there’d been no sign of my mate, and finding him had to come first, according to the Seer all those years ago.
When I’d tracked the luchd-òl fola to the United States, I’d been so happy. Surely my English-speaking mate lived here somewhere. But this country was huge, and there was all of Canada to consider as well. I shook my head. No, my mate would be here in the U.S. I had to believe that.
I heaved Isla and Wallace into the pit and shoveled the dirt on top of them. By the time anyone found the grave, vampire decay rates meant the skeletons would appear to be over a century old. The discovery wouldn’t even make the local news.
Nine left.
Nine luchd-òl fola, one Elf Prince, and a mate.
I was beyond ready.