Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,75
or brain trauma.” Her tone was friendly enough, but it definitely held a hint of steel as she added, “Now, please settle down while we complete the rest of our tests.”
I sucked in a deep breath and obeyed. They checked my memory, concentration skills, and other stuff, and eventually came to the conclusion that, other than possible concussion and the two-inch-long cut near my temple, I’d been pretty lucky.
Once patched up, the cops came in and took my statements. The curtain between Mo and me was opened at my insistence, and I was relieved to see that she really was okay. We were kept under observation for a few hours and then set free with strict instructions to rest up and take it easy for the next couple of days.
Like that was going to happen.
I called a cab once we were outside and silently thanked past me for following the intuition to grab a waterproof phone when I’d updated. The cab driver took us to a nearby Travelodge, and the receptionist didn’t bat an eyelid at our sodden and woebegone state. Maybe because I asked for the business floor with everything included, or maybe because it was winter and no business could really afford to turn away good money even if we looked like semi-drowned rats.
“I need a shower,” Mo said wearily. “It feels like there’s still ice in my veins.”
“Do you need a hand?”
“I’m concussed, not an invalid,” she said crossly. Then she sighed and patted my arm. “Sorry, I’m not angry at you. Just me.”
“There’s no reason to be angry at yourself. You couldn’t have foreseen that attack.”
“But I should have—especially given I all but set myself up for it.” She grimaced and peeled off her sodden clothes. “But the anger stems more from the fact I didn’t take the proper precautions when you were with me.”
I crossed my arms and leaned my butt against the washbasin. “It’s just as well I was, because you would have drowned.”
“Probably.”
“Meaning what, precisely?”
“Water is an element I have some control over, remember. I suspect the coldness hitting my face might have instigated survival mode.” She turned on the shower and held a hand under it, testing its temperature. “Is there tea in this place? I feel the need for a good cuppa.”
“There’s no doubt tea; whether it’s good or not is another matter entirely.”
I filled the kettle and flicked it on, then stripped off and hung my clothes over the back of the desk chair. By the time I’d wrapped myself in a towel and made the tea, Mo was out of the shower and climbing into bed. I handed her one of the small cups and then sat down on the other bed.
She took a few sips and then sighed. “Not great, but better than nothing.”
“You’re just a tea snob.”
“At my age, I’m allowed to be.”
I guess she was. “So, what’s the plan now?”
“We rest, as ordered.”
“Why? Dusk isn’t that far away—”
“I know, but Vivienne always preferred dawn.”
I studied her for a moment. She looked pale and slightly out of sorts, and that had rage rising. For the first time in my life, she seemed vulnerable, and while I knew it was probably just a combination of concussion and the shock of the attack, I really didn’t like it.
And I certainly didn’t like the fact my goddamn brother had more than likely been behind it.
I took a sip of my tea and discovered she was right. It wasn’t great. “I suppose it’s likely there’ll be fewer people around at dawn.”
The rage wasn’t evident in my voice, and for that I was thankful. It’d only make her worry about me doing something stupid—like ringing my goddamn brother. But what she’d said earlier made absolute sense—if I unleashed now, it’d not only drive him away from us but also drive away any chance we had of uncovering who he was working with.
To kill a hydra, you first had to kill its minor heads. Only then could you tackle the immortal one.
My brother wasn’t immortal, but it was looking more and more like he was the hydra’s main head.
I gulped down some more tea, burning my throat in the process, and then added, “That being the case, I might go out and grab some fresh clothes for us both. We can’t run around in our current ones—they stink of river mud.”
She nodded. “Grab something to eat on the way back. I’m feeling a mite peckish.”