Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,33
hair on my arms stood on end and a faint, sulfur-like scent filled my nostrils. I dug my nails deeper into my palms in an effort to hold the force back, but it was a battle I was beginning to lose. If Mo didn’t contact me soon with the all clear, all hell would break loose.
“Then who are you?” The roiling inner power was causing my vocal cords to vibrate and the words came out … odd. I swallowed heavily and hoped the man ahead didn’t notice. “Because you can’t be Winter. I killed that bastard and watched him die.”
Something flashed through his eyes. Something dark and very scary. “And his death was one we all felt. For that, you will suffer greatly.”
We all? That not only suggested there were more than two versions of Winter but also that they were linked by some kind of collective consciousness—one that shared thoughts, emotions, and experiences even if they could act independently.
I scanned him again, but I really hadn’t seen the original version often enough to spot whatever minor differences there might be.
“Does my brother know there’s more than one of you?”
He raised a pale eyebrow, his expression mocking. “What benefit would there be to that?”
For Darkside? None. For my brother? To be honest, he might well welcome multiple versions of a man he was extremely attracted to. He’d never been a huge believer in one partner for life, and even during his so-called serious relationships he’d indulged his sexual needs elsewhere.
But he didn’t like to be played, either, and I suspected that’s what they were doing here. Hell, it was even possible that one of the Winters led one of the factions. Just because we believed half-breeds couldn’t take up positions of authority didn’t mean we were right.
“So how many of you are there?”
“Enough.”
Meaning that even when I destroyed this one, there were plenty of other clones or whatever the hell he was waiting in the wings to take his place. Not that that would stop me. Besides, they’d surely have to run out of replacements eventually.
“So,” I said, the vibration getting stronger. “Back to the reason I’m here—what do you want?”
Another smile, but this one had chills racing down my spine. “You are your brother’s blood price. What do you think we want?”
“If you wanted me dead, the bitch behind me could have done it easily enough when we were on the bridge. We both know you weren’t overly worried about the presence of a sharpshooter—you’ve plenty of minions to replace those we kill.”
And we certainly both knew that Darkside didn’t actually care if it lost hundreds of said minions, as long as the end result was what they wanted.
“Oh, blood price doesn’t always mean death.” His gaze fell on my arm, and lasciviousness gleamed briefly. “Though the sweet smell of your blood does make me hunger for its taste.”
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever get to taste it.”
That gleam got stronger. “Fighting only makes the taste that much sweeter.”
“And you really think Max is going to allow anything like that to happen to me? Even if you are his true love?”
“He may have done all he possibly can to protect you thus far, but in the end there is no escaping a deal done, and he is well aware of that.”
“I wouldn’t place any bets on that. This blood—the blood we share—just might be thicker than his desire for a throne.”
He laughed, the sound cracking harshly across the night. “You’re his twin—surely even you cannot believe that.”
Perhaps not, but god, I wanted to. Badly.
Winter—or whatever the hell this one’s name actually was—glanced at the man on his right. “Order the boat in.”
As the man obeyed, Winter added, “As much as I would have preferred Gurra to fly you off the island, it is impractical given the nearest open gate is some distance from here. It would give the bitch you call grandmother too much time to rescue you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you think she won’t attempt a rescue if I’m in a boat? Really? Even you can’t be that stupid.”
“If she attacks, we sink the boat. Given you’ll be chained within it, it’d have a cataclysmic result for any hope of a future you might hold.”
“You sink the boat, and you’ll also die. Demons can’t swim.”
He shrugged. “Death for the greater good is an honor, not a problem. And while the dark elf who has claimed reproduction rights with you will be displeased at