Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,22

dealing with a nest,” Mo continued, “they’ll be holed up underground.”

The thought of tracking this thing into the bowels of the earth had my nose wrinkling. “Would halflings go underground, though?”

“Impossible to know until we get in there.” She studied the building for several seconds, her expression hard to read. “Either way, we’d better not do so unprepared. It might be best if you fly—”

“Uh, no,” I cut in. “It’s not that I don’t trust you not to go in alone or anything—but I don’t.”

“I’m mortified you’d say something like that.” Though she feigned hurt, amusement shone in her eyes.

“I can’t see why, when you raised me.” I waved a hand toward the house. “We both know the minute I disappear, you’re going to head in and kill the bastards.”

The amusement got stronger. “Not all of them. We do need to question the fellow we followed to see who the actual target was.”

I frowned. “He was obviously shooting at you.”

“Let’s not forget you were standing beside me, and they’ve certainly taken shots at you before.”

Yes, they had, but I’d gotten the distinct impression that while the demons might want me dead, the dark elves didn’t. I had thought that was because they wanted to get to Max through me, but after learning about Hanna Okoro, I wasn’t so sure.

Which was yet another thought guaranteed to give me nightmares.

“All of which does not change the fact that it makes more sense if I stay—you’re the one who’s dealt with the Aranea before, and you’re the only one who has some idea what it’s going to take to deal with the bastards.” I smiled. “And you can be damn sure I’m not stupid enough to go in there alone.”

“That I’m not so sure about. I did raise you, after all.”

I laughed softly. “Go. I’ll watch in blackbird form. Hopefully anyone who spots me will think I’m a pigeon.”

“Which will only work if the Aranea aren’t aware who and what they’re dealing with.”

And that was extremely unlikely. She didn’t say that out loud, but she didn’t really need to. “Then the sooner you go, the sooner you and the cavalry can get back.”

“Just stay alert. It’s always possible this is yet another trap.”

I nodded. Once she’d left, I regained bird form and flew over to the small shed situated on the back fence of the house next door. I couldn’t risk drifting on the breeze, because this was a well-established residential area, and a bird carrying knives wouldn’t exactly be a common sight. It also risked drawing the attention of any watchers the Aranea had in place.

I landed on the shed’s roof, deposited my knives in the gutter, and then strutted up to the roof’s ridge. I wasn’t high enough to see into the first-floor windows, but it did give me a view over the surrounding houses. There were obviously a lot of families in the area, because there were toys, trampolines, and bikes scattered throughout the various yards. Two boys chased each other around a few houses down, their laughter filling the air. It was a bright sound in a gloomy, rain-swept day.

There was nothing here that tweaked my instincts; nothing to suggest anyone living in this area was in any way aware that they had a nest of half-demons living right next to them. I doubted they’d so readily let their kids play unmonitored if they were.

I walked to the other end of the shed, then flew over the funeral parlor’s roof to the building on the far side. As I did, a gray Merc drove into the narrow lane, then stopped in one of the marked parking bays in front of the old garages. I walked across to the chimney and used it for cover as I peered out. The driver didn’t immediately leave his car; from what I could see through the heavily tinted windows, he was on the phone and—if his gestures were anything to go by—animatedly disagreeing with whatever the other person was saying. This went on for several minutes, then he thrust the door open and climbed out.

Shock rolled through me, and it was all I could do not to squawk in surprise. I may never have met the man below, but he matched the description Henry had given us and left me in little doubt as to his identity.

This was Winter—the halfling who killed my cousins and who’d more than likely ordered Tris’s murder.

He was a delicately built man, with long white hair held back