Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,14
a very stubborn old man. Unless and until he wishes to come out, there is nothing either Gwendydd or I can do to budge him.”
“So who was the woman who broke his heart and left him locked up and mourning in a cave?”
“Her name was Niniane, and she was his student. We did warn him that she was only after his power, but men in lust do tend to listen to the little head rather than the big.”
A smile twitched my lips. “So she bled him dry and then walked away?”
“Ran is a more apt description. He tended to be a bit ‘handsy.’”
That seemed to be a common theme amongst men of a certain age and generation, in my experience. “What happened to her after he locked himself away?”
“She attempted a spell beyond her capabilities. It consumed her.”
“Fate does have a way of biting the butts of wrongdoers.” I paused and studied Jules for a moment. “Do you think it possible that the person who drew the sword is one of his siblings?”
“Anything is possible, but I doubt it, if only because they wouldn’t have attacked you on King’s Island. It would have been more sensible not to draw attention to themselves that way.”
“I’m thinking Darkside and sensible don’t always go together.”
She laughed. “They may not see things the way we do, but their thought processes aren’t that different.”
On that, we would always disagree. “If Hanna Okoro was snatched from the hospital by her dark elf keepers, why would they leave Jules there? Surely that was a bit risky—”
“Not necessarily,” Mo cut in. “His ears aren’t pointed enough to attract attention.”
“But why not take him when they took his mother?”
“Invisible or not, it’s still much harder to get into a natal ward.” She shrugged. “Or maybe they simply did prenatal tests and knew he was flawed.”
“It’s kinda hard to imagine Darkside having hospitals and the like.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Why? The only difference between our world and theirs is the fact that night is never-ending there.”
“I guess it comes from thinking demons to be little better than rabid animals.” I waved a hand toward Jules. “Do you think he died of natural causes?”
She reached out and lifted one eyelid. “His eyes are bloodshot, and there seems to be a faint stain of blue around his lips. Whether that’s part of whatever condition he had or he’s been smothered, I can’t say. I think we need to get the preternatural boys out here to investigate.”
The Preternatural Division was a secret section of the National Crime Agency, and had some of the strongest witches on their books as advisors to help investigate supernatural and magical crime. And, right now, that meant the death of anyone connected in any way to the Witch King and the sword.
“Have you got Jason’s number?” she added.
Jason Durant was the head honcho of the team who’d investigated both Tris’s and Gareth’s murders. He also happened to be a good friend of Luc’s. “No, but I could send a text to Luc.”
She pushed to her feet. “Do it. Then we’d better get back home.”
“You don’t want to look around first?”
“I doubt there’s much here to find, and we need to get back to Ainslyn.”
I pulled out my phone; it was already past ten. “We’re not going to get back there in time to meet the insurance assessor.”
“No, which is why I rang your brother before I left the Lodge and asked him to get over there.”
I grinned. “I’m sure he would have been absolutely thrilled to be woken at that hour.” Especially if he and the entertainment had been partying all night.
“He did sound a little miffed, but that’s not unusual these days.”
No, it wasn’t. I sent Luc a quick text, then shoved my phone back into my pocket. “If Jules has been murdered within the last forty-eight hours, does that mean Max is still in danger?”
Mo pursed her lips. “If Jules was murdered after the sword was taken, yes, because it suggests the heir is still taking out rivals.”
“Meaning Max had better go back into hiding.”
“Being hard to find didn’t do Jules much good.”
“Well, no, but our family is small enough.” My voice was edged; worry and concern, rather than anger. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
She touched my arm lightly. “We won’t.”
I hoped not. I’d had more than enough grief in my lifetime already. I followed her down the stairs and out the front door. The drizzle had turned into a full-on storm, which meant