Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,82
have already been passed on to his counterparts.”
“If that was true, he wouldn’t have needed the scrolls.”
“Unless he wanted proof for your brother.”
I grunted and glanced at the residence. “And what about the traitor who let him in?”
“That’s a problem for the Blackbirds.” She glanced at her watch. “We need to get back to Southport. I’d rather not be flying after dark, and we’re going to be cutting it rather close as it is.”
“Let’s just hope they have plenty of food in the pantry,” I grumbled, “because I’ll be absolutely starving by the time we get there.”
“It’s a mansion,” she said, voice dry. “Their pantry is probably bigger than our whole damn apartment.”
“No doubt, but I might send Mia a text, just to give her a heads-up of our approximate arrival time and the need to have dinner ready.”
“Good idea. Meet you up high.”
She circled the area while I sent the text, then we flew north toward Southport. The wind picked up before we were even a third of the way there, chasing storm clouds toward us. The sky grew progressively darker, and the full fury of the storm hit just as we reached the halfway point. It ended up being a fucking miserable flight, and I’d never been so happy to see the modern mock-Tudor home that had become our safe house in my life. We swooped into the large covered porch and shifted shape. Though my blackbird form was basically waterproof, the cold had nevertheless leached into my body, and my extremities felt like ice.
The front door opened, and a sharply dressed elderly gentleman with neat white hair and merry blue eyes appeared. It was Henry, the mansion’s majordomo. “Welcome back, ladies.”
“It’s a pleasure to be back, Henry,” Mo replied. “Is there time to warm my old bones with a shower before dinner?”
“Of course.” He stepped to one side and waved us in. “The other ladies and Mr. Lancaster have requested it be served in the small breakfast room.”
Which was something of a misnomer, given it was large enough to seat at least twenty people.
“Could you let them know we’ll be there in twenty minutes?” Mo glanced at me. “That long enough for you?”
“Depends how thick the internal ice is.” My voice was dry. “But at the very least, defrosting should have occurred. A large whiskey can do the rest.”
I followed her across the entrance hall. It was a double-height space dominated not only by a large and rather grand oak staircase that swept up to the galleried landing above, but also by the huge gold-and-crystal chandelier that sprayed rainbows of light across the white walls and ceiling.
The upstairs hall was wide enough to drive a car through, and parties could definitely be held in the bedrooms we’d each been allocated. I stripped off, dumped my clothes and Elysian on top of the blanket box that sat at the end of the super-king-sized bed, and then strode into the bathroom. Like everything else in this place, it was a vast and opulent space; gold-veined white marble on the floor and walls, with gold hand basins and taps. The huge shower had three ceiling-mounted showerheads and two flexible wall ones—also all gold.
I collected body soap, a sponge, and a towel the size of a tent from the inset storage shelves, placed them on the stand provided at one end of the shower, then turned on the water and stepped under. A long hot soak went some way to easing the weariness, but I’d be as sore as hell tomorrow. It had been a while since I’d flown that far in one day.
Once dressed, I slung Elysian on then headed down to the breakfast room. Barney wasn’t about, but both Mia and Ginny were there. At five-ten, Mia was two inches taller than me, with blue-gray eyes, short brown hair, and a slender build. Ginny was typical Okoro in looks, with long plaited black hair and dark eyes. At barely five-foot-one, she was also something of a pocket rocket—and woe betide anyone who thought small equaled pushover.
Mia looked up from the papers they’d been examining when I walked in, her smile bright and somewhat relieved. I couldn’t help but notice her bo staffs were on the table within easy reach and that Ginny was now wearing a gun. Detectives working in major crime units didn’t typically carry unless they were working with the firearms unit, but Ginny had obviously gotten special dispensation, and that was something of a relief. Her