Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,111

at him for several seconds, a knot forming in my stomach as his warning recalled a memory—I’d been on a phone call to Max, and two people had been arguing in the background. While one of those voices had been familiar—though I hadn’t been able to place it—the other had belonged to a stranger. That was no longer the case—it had been Winter. He’d used exactly the same phrase to whomever else was in that room.

And with that realization came a deeper, darker suspicion.

No, I thought. Surely not.

A short sharp pop made me jump and had my gaze darting back to Mo. The end of the copper rod was out of the energy river, but its length was still retracting, and Mo’s concentration remained solely on it. Time. I just had to give her more time.

I took a deep breath and walked out from the tunnel.

Winter’s expression bordered on approving. Energy flicked through me and echoed through each of the daggers. I wanted nothing more than to unleash, but the minute I did, all hell would break loose. Until I knew what sort of magic protected him, I was better off playing his game.

“Now,” he said benignly, “lose the daggers.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’ll lose them the minute you order your forces back into the tunnel.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You want me to trust you. I want you to prove you’re worthy of it.”

He was clearly amused, but the demons nevertheless turned en masse and scrambled back into the tunnel. All but six.

Winter waved a hand in their direction, then clasped it behind his back again. It made me wonder what he was holding out of sight. A gun, perhaps?

“Consider them my insurance policy. Attack me, and they’ll return the favor. Now, the daggers.”

I carefully bent and placed both on the ground. I didn’t need to be holding them to use them, even if the toll it took on my body was greater, but Winter obviously didn’t know that.

But then, neither did my brother.

Even without the knives or the lightning, I still had my stone knife strapped to my wrist. Only trouble was, to use it I had to get closer. Much closer.

“Now, walk over to the stairs and come up here.”

I slowly obeyed. Every second I delayed was one more second for Mo. “What do you want with me, Winter?”

“Me? Nothing at all. But you are the blood price, and even he can’t get around that.”

The halfling who’d been Tristan’s contact had also said I was the ‘price,’ and at the time we’d presumed she’d meant Tristan’s. We hadn’t known then what we did now.

Part of me still wished I didn’t.

I swallowed heavily. “Max would never offer me as a blood sacrifice, no matter how desperately he needed help.”

“You’re right, he wouldn’t. And he didn’t. But there are other means of paying debts.”

Like breeding half elf bastards … Revulsion churned through me. Surely Max wasn’t so far gone that he’d wished that fate on me? I was his goddamn twin—how could he not know I’d prefer death to something like that?

“Please do move along,” Winter added. “I have a business meeting to get to.”

I climbed the rough stone stairs, one hand pressed lightly against the wall to steady me. My vision was moving in and out of focus, and there was a deep roaring in my ears. Not good, I thought. Not good at all.

Winter shifted fractionally, keeping front-on to me. He was definitely holding something behind his back. Add that to his comment about a clean death, and it was pretty much certain he was holding a gun. And while I’d used a shield similar to the cylinder to protect us from gunshots at Barney’s, Winter would surely have been told about that. He wouldn’t have come here with a gun if he didn’t believe it would work.

My gaze flickered past him. If I could collapse the tunnel’s entrance and trap him in here with me without the majority of his demon force, we might yet have a chance … but only if I could also take out the six demons that remained here at the same time.

May the gods be with us …

I flexed my fingers and tried to ignore the gathering tension and fear. I could do this. I had to do this.

I pushed away the clamoring doubts and said, “A meeting with Max, I take it?”

There was something in his eyes, something in the smile that now played across his lips, that had my