Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,58

Darkside mates decided they’d better uncover what the prophecy on the throne actually said.”

“But they tried to destroy it—”

“No doubt to stop us getting to it. And that’s the reason Barney and I are going over to King’s Island this evening. I want to grab some pictures of the King’s Stone’s faded glyphs, just in case they attempt to repeat the destruction there.”

“I guess if anyone can bring out what’s written on that stone, it’ll be his nephew. Just … be careful. I really want to believe Max wouldn’t hurt either of us, but he may not be running the entire show.”

Mo smiled and squeezed my hand. I knew her well enough to know she didn’t believe Max was anything else but the ringleader. Pain stabbed through my heart once again, and I battled back the stinging tears.

“I doubt it’s going to be safe for you to return home alone,” she said. “I contacted Luc, and he’s given me the address of a temporary safe house. He’ll meet you there.”

She handed me a bit of paper, and I glanced down at it. It was for an address in Southport. “It’ll take me at least five hours to get to there from here, and I don’t want to be driving around that long, especially in this truck.”

“Dump it somewhere close and grab a cab, then. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime. Make sure you rest up.”

“I will.”

Mo and Gianna hauled the car seat and the still sleeping child over to the Fiesta. Mia gave me a wave and a thumbs-up as they left, and I suddenly felt very alone. And very exposed.

I glanced at the address again, then programmed it into my phone rather than the truck’s navigation system. Given I intended to dump the truck, it’d be nothing short of stupidity to give them an easy means of finding us.

I tugged my purse out of the backpack, then went through the drive-through and grabbed a large fries, chicken strips, and a bucket of coffee. Munching on them as I headed back out of Penrith at least kept the weariness at bay, perhaps more so than the coffee.

I dumped the truck close to the Harris Museum in Preston and then caught a cab the rest of the way to Southport. It was expensive, but I was beyond caring. Dusk had given way to night by the time I arrived at the safe house Luc had arranged for us. I paid the cab and climbed out, staring at the building in awe. It was a large and impressive Tudor mansion, though it wasn’t, I realized after a few minutes, a particularly old building—the roof tiles were too new and the black-and-white framing too crisp and clean. It didn’t matter—it was simply stunning.

The main door opened, and a sharply dressed elderly gentleman with neat white hair and merry blue eyes came out.

“Ms. De Montfort?” he asked, in an ultra-polite, but friendly manner. When I nodded, he added, “We’ve been expecting you. This way please.”

He waved a gloved hand toward the door, and I half smiled. We De Montforts certainly weren’t poor, but neither were we so crazily rich that we could afford to build a mock Tudor mansion in an area like this, so close to both the sea and the golf course, and then have a multitude of staff catering to every whim.

The entrance hall was a vast space whose main feature was a turned oak staircase leading up to a galleried landing. The floor and deep skirting boards were also oak, and a huge gold-and-crystal chandelier hung from the double-height ceiling, sending rainbow sprays of color across the white walls every time light hit the teardrops.

“Would you like a shower, Ms. De Montfort?” the elderly gentleman continued. “Or would you prefer something to eat first?”

“A shower would be fantastic. And please, just call me Gwen.”

He inclined his head. “I’m Henry, the majordomo. This way, please.”

We walked up the sweeping staircase to the landing and then down a wide and very plushly carpeted hall to a bedroom bigger than the entire first floor of our building.

“The bathroom is to your right,” Henry said. “You’ll find all necessary items in the nearby shelving. If you wish your clothes laundered and mended, please place them on the bed. Just press the buzzer beside the light switch in the bathroom, and Jenny—the maid—will fetch them.”

“Thank you, Henry.”

He nodded and left, quietly closing the door behind him. I drew in a deep breath and resisted the urge