Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,57
seat again. “You must have some backlash after using all that fire.”
She nodded. “It drains me. I usually sleep for at least a day afterward.”
Meaning maybe she wasn’t concussed; maybe she was simply zoning out after draining her system of energy.
I hit Mo’s number; the phone barely had time to ring before she was saying, “We’re about five minutes away from your current location, if this tracker is to be believed. What the hell happened back there?”
“Another attack—we’re now in our assailant’s truck.”
“Were they halflings or witches?”
“I didn’t really take the time to ask.” I hesitated. “They were armed, though, so they might have been regular thugs for hire.”
“Possibly. You keep smoking their troops, and they surely can’t have an endless supply of them, even if they have been planning this for decades.”
“If they’ve been planning this for decades, I wouldn’t bet on that.” I glanced toward the road as a small white Fiesta came around the corner and slowed down. “We’re in the parking area, right at the back.”
The car turned in, and a few seconds later, they’d parked beside us. Mo climbed out and opened the truck door.
“Well, don’t you look like shit?” She leaned past me and added, “And I’m guessing you’ll be Gianna. Wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances.”
Gianna nodded, but her expression was uncertain. “Are you sure we’re going to be safe? They’ve found us pretty easily twice now.”
“There are magical means of preventing tracking spells and physical means of preventing the use of regular tracking devices, but I can’t one hundred percent guarantee it won’t happen,” Mo said. “What I can guarantee is that the best shot you and your children have of remaining free of Darkside control will be with us.”
Gianna was silent for a moment, her gaze sweeping the two of us. Her uncertainty remained, and the annoyance that had been buried under the avalanche of adrenaline and fear flickered to life. I’d almost died protecting her and her goddamn son … my nephew. I drew in a slow, deep breath and tried to calm down. Her reactions were perfectly natural, especially given how closely related we were to the apparent leader of this whole fucking mess. Heaven only knew what Max had told her about us.
“Fine,” she said eventually. “Where are we going?”
“It’s better if that remains a secret.” Mo glanced into the rear. “Damn, that boy looks like his father—but what the hell did you give him to make him sleep so soundly through all this?”
“A third of one of my Ambien tablets.”
Mo sharp inhale was a sound of disapproval. But then, she’d always preferred herbal medicines to manmade, especially when it came to children.
“Let’s get you both out of here—I’ll check him and take a look at that cut on your head once we’re safe.”
Gianna frowned. “He’s okay—”
“And you’ve both been in a crash that totaled your car. Humor an old healer and let me check you both out.” She waited until Gianna had climbed out of the car and then said, her expression concerned, “How bad are the gun wounds and the weariness?”
“I’ll survive.”
She snorted. “To throw your own words back at you, you’d say that even if you’d broken every bone in your goddamn body. Give me your hands.”
I obeyed. Her magic stirred around me, a warm caress of power that chased away the chills and weakness even as it closed over the worst of my wounds. I still felt washed out, and my head still pounded, but that was to be expected given she could hardly waste all her strength on me when she had Gianna and Reign to protect.
She released me with a sigh. “That’ll have to do for now.”
“Thanks.” I leaned forward and lightly kissed her scraped cheek. “What are you going to do once you settle Gianna and Reign?”
“Head on over to Barney’s—”
“Will that be safe?” I cut in. “They’ve already attacked him once.”
“I don’t believe they’ll attack again—they were after the photographs rather than us.”
I frowned. “And how did you deduce that? They certainly weren’t pulling their punches when it came to shooting at us—”
“Except that they were—do you really think the chair would have protected either of us if they’d actually wanted us dead?”
“It was well made.”
She snorted. “Not that well made. The photographs were snatched while we were chasing the Aranea and the two men were on the roof.”
Meaning the attack had simply been a distraction. “Why would they bother, though?”