and the earth slowly peeled away from Winter’s body, revealing his neck and shoulders. A look of horror and desperation was forever etched onto his pale features—not surprising given I’d buried him alive.
Mo rose and moved around to one side of the body. “Can I borrow Nex?”
I untied the knives and handed her Nex hilt first. Light flickered briefly down the blade; recognizing our shared bloodline, perhaps, even though it had never happened before now. Maybe it was just another sign that in drawing Elysian, I’d altered far more than I could ever have imagined.
Mo sliced off several large chunks of hair, then returned Nex to me. I didn’t immediately sheath her; while we’d not seen anyone on the island, there were plenty of trees and rocks that could provide hiding spots. At least with Nex gripped tight, I’d be able to respond to any threat that much faster.
“Do we know how many versions of Winter there are?” Mo said.
I shook my head. “I did ask, but all he said was ‘enough.’”
“Unhelpful bastard.” She sighed and dragged a clean tissue out of her pocket. “I’ll divide the hair into six. That should be enough.”
“Are you going to activate them all now?”
“That would be risky.”
I frowned. “Why? There’s been no indication he’s magic capable or even sensitive to its presence.”
“There’s been no indication that he’s not, either. Always best to fall on the safe side when doing this sort of stuff.” She plucked free a small amount of hair then carefully wrapped the rest in the tissue and tucked it back in her pocket.
“So we’re not going after at least one of the bastards right now? I think we should.”
“That would be your need for revenge speaking,” she said, amused. “However, I happen to be in agreement. Southport can wait.”
“And Luc’s theory that killing one Winter incarnation will warn the rest of them?”
A cold smile touched her lips. “Oh, if we do this right, he literally won’t know what hit him. And neither will the rest of them.”
I raised my eyebrows, but she didn’t elaborate—no surprise there. While she weaved her spell around the hair, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Luc.
His response was immediate. Color me unsurprised.
I could almost hear his dry tone and smiled. How’d the gate check at Carlisle go?
Neither fitted the description Riona gave us. I’ve just filled the SUV, so I’ll head on down to Kendal.
And then back to Southport?
No. Seeing as you two are jaunting off elsewhere, I might as well check the Leeds gates while I’m down that way.
Surely the Leeds witch council can do that?
Have you met the Leeds council?
No, but they can’t be incompetent—they wouldn’t get elected if they were.
They’re not. They’re just sticklers for the rules and, with the mess in London at the moment, it’s doubtful the high council would have had the chance to send out the full alert.
Yes, but Barney would have called them.
And they would not have moved unless they got clearance from the High Council.
But that makes no sense—all we’re asking them to do is send someone out to check the damn gates. Why would they be hesitant to do that?
Because of a rash act years ago in which over a hundred people died. Council regulations now state they cannot act without prior approval unless they come under attack.
I would think that, after London, new orders will go out to all the councils not to wait for High Council approval on matters of national security.
Undoubtedly, though Leeds is probably the only one that will need it. And to repeat what I said earlier, be careful. Your brother and Winter will be watching for reprisals.
And so they fucking should. See you in Southport.
I shoved my phone away and then watched the developing spell. The orb Mo was weaving around the hair was far more complex than a mere tracking spell, and there were multiple layers within the spell that I’d never seen her use before.
Once she’d fully cast it, she glanced at me and said, “Ready to go?”
I hastily lashed my knives back together and then nodded. She immediately tossed the glowing orb into the air and spoke a command. The orb pulsed and shot off toward Ainslyn. Mo leapt after it, catching me a little flat-footed. I shifted, swept up my knives, and raced after her.
The orb rolled past Ainslyn and Chester and then swept inland. I had a bad feeling that—just as I’d predicted—we’d end up in London.
But I was utterly