Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,40

frowned. “What sort of psychic?”

“A woman who uses psychometry to trace people.”

The more I learned about the preternatural division, the bigger it seemed to get. “So what’s our next move?”

He picked up the two takeaway cups and returned, handing one to me before motioning me on. “I dare say Mo will tell us once we get back to Ainslyn.”

I glanced up. “So you’ve no plans of your own?”

He opened the door and ushered me out. “I’ve plenty, but none of them are practical right now.”

I grinned. “I wasn’t talking about sexual plans, Blackbird.”

“Weren’t you? That’s a shame.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That suggests there might be a slight deviation in the course you’ve set yourself.”

“No deviation. Not until after all this mess is sorted, at any rate.”

“You do realize that if the gate is opened and the dark horde floods out, you and I could die in a very frustrated state?”

He laughed and opened the car door for me. “If the gate does open and the horde does flood, I promise we’ll meet death with smiles on our faces and satisfaction in our hearts.”

I snorted. “Except we both know that if the gate is opened, you’ll be standing alongside the other eleven Blackbirds attempting to hold back the tide.”

“I doubt there’ll be any sort of warning to the gate being smashed open. It’ll just happen.”

“To be honest, I’m surprised it already hasn’t.”

He shrugged. “From the accounts I’ve read of the Witch King and the sword, it apparently takes a while for the connection to establish.” He pulled into the traffic and then glanced at me. “Much like what happened with your connection to Nex and Vita.”

“Which makes sense, given they came out of the same forge.” I took a sip of my tea. “What did you think of the prophecy that was on the back of the throne?”

“I thought the second line was oddly worded.”

I nodded. “At first reading, you’d take it to mean the sword in the stone—the sword long believed to be the Witch King’s—”

“Because it is,” Luc cut in. “There’s plenty of illuminated manuscripts and tapestries from his era that use that exact image.”

“So why say one true sword? Why not simply say the sword of power?”

“He did use other swords—he didn’t always take the sword of power into battle. Maybe that’s what the line is referring to.”

“Maybe.” I took another sip of my tea. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance the prophecy is mentioned somewhere in the Blackbird archives?”

“If it’s there, I’ll find it.” He glanced at me, a smile touching his lips. “A day or so of separation might not be a bad thing.”

“Coward.”

“But a realistic one.” His smile grew, and my hormones did a wicked little dance. “Even the fiercest resolve cannot forever withstand the constant assault of sensory and sexual ambrosia.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re equating me to a dessert?”

“Ambrosia was first the food of the Greek and Roman gods, and it’s one I would willingly consume, given the right time and place.”

My already erratic pulse rate greeted this news with even more abandon. I did my best to ignore the images that rose in my mind and said, in a voice that held only the slightest trace of huskiness, “Shame, then, that your unwillingness to risk that heart of yours means it will never happen.”

He didn’t say anything to that. The silence stretched on, and I was perfectly fine with it. I just hoped his imagination was now offering the same sort of erotic images as mine and that he was consequently contemplating the wisdom of stating he would never have a long-term relationship.

He probably wasn’t, but a girl had to hope. These were strange times, after all.

It didn’t take us very long to get back to Ainslyn, thanks to the early hour and the fact daily commuters were generally heading out of the city, not in.

Luc pulled to a halt in front of our building, but kept the motor running. “I’ll head over to Winchester and check the archives for any mention of the prophecy or other swords.”

I frowned. “Winchester? I thought your headquarters was in London?”

“It is, but Winchester is the ancient home of the Blackbirds.”

“But why? Ainslyn is where the Witch King ruled, not Winchester.”

“While it’s true that Uhtric spent a good portion of his time here, the other kings did not. There are multiple castles across the UK that can lay claim to being inhabited by one or more Witch King over the centuries.”

“Huh.” I opened the car door.

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