Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,39
top. There was only so much indignity one man could accept.
Then he noticed the notch in the cat’s ear, the missing tufts of fur, and the long, bloody scratch that barely missed her right eye. He’d seen that expression on many a swordsman. The cat had fought and won, but at a price. He’d bet good silver the other cat had been a bruiser.
He sank to his haunches to meet her eye to eye. “Did you leave your opponent standing?”
“More or less.” The cat sat stiffly, as if moving hurt. “But I made him offer his throat.”
Although he was well aware of the temple cats, he’d had few dealings with them. Perhaps they weren’t the spoiled, lazy beasts he’d imagined. “I hope you exacted a price for his life.”
She slitted her eyes. “I made him send his minions to find you.”
Automatically, Morran scanned his surroundings, searching for whiskers.
“You won’t see them,” the cat replied. “I might have defeated the local cat king, but he’s good at his job.”
There was a flurry of veils at the alley’s mouth. “Kifi!”
Leena hurried toward them, her hands raised in an exasperated gesture. “Stop making me run after you. Both of you.” She shot Morran a glance filled with worry.
Morran stood, his chest suddenly hollowed at the sight of her. Her long, fiery hair and floating silks were like bright plumage against the alley’s brick. Before he realized it, he’d moved to her side. She drew him in like warmth.
“Are you well?” she asked, a thousand questions packed into those three words.
“Better. Juradoc discovered I was working free of his enchantments. He strengthened his hold over my mind, but his spell is fading.”
“Because we are far away?” she asked.
“And because you’ve healed me. I am able to fight back.”
Leena’s shoulders sagged in relief, but Morran could see her moving onto the next worry without a pause. He took her hands in his, uncurling her fingers so they relaxed between his palms.
He had held her far more intimately than this, but something in the moment felt new. Perhaps it was because they’d shared danger and cared enough to ensure the other was safe. There was a difference between simple attraction and affection born from respect.
She felt it, too, because a flustered blush spread over her cheeks. No one with that shade of hair could hide it. He kept his calm façade, but he grinned inside his heart.
“Your berserker found me,” he quipped, nodding to the cat.
Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but not quite. “I owe a great deal to Kifi’s prowess in battle.”
He returned the half-smile, but then their situation pressed in on him once more. “I am deeply sorry I lost your brother. I thought he came down this alley, but I was mistaken.”
“Not necessarily,” the cat piped up.
Kifi, he reminded himself. Her name was Kifi. “How so?” he asked.
The feline turned to look at the brick wall that formed the dead end. “Behold.”
As if by magic, a large orange tabby appeared from nowhere, seeming to emerge from the solid wall.
“According to the locals, there are hidden passages in these alleys,” Kifi explained. “The fae who live here frequent this part of town.”
The tom cat cautiously approached, giving Kifi a wide berth until he hunkered down a respectful distance away. Kifi pointedly ignored him.
“How did Fionn know where to go?” Leena wondered.
Morran shook his head. “He might be following the source of the lightning and tremors.”
“Why that?”
“They are caused by magic, and his quarry is a powerful earth fae.”
Leena’s look said he was explaining the obvious. “Yes, but why is the storm happening?”
“Our passage here triggered something—a Shimmer is powerful, even with one person crossing through. Four individuals and a mirror spinning hard enough to form a magical cyclone are bound to trip any alarms.”
Leena looked at him quizzically. “And those alarms are enough of a beacon to lead Fionn to his victim?”
“It’s a theory. Our best lead is to follow the same path.”
Leena pulled her hands from his. “Can we find the source of the storm?”
“Of course,” Kifi replied.
As if summoned, the orange tabby got to his feet.
“This is the leader of the local colony,” Kifi said. “His name is Fang of Deadly Retribution. His humans call him Mo.”
Kifi gave the animal a nod. Mo flicked his ears, then began trotting toward the street.
“Wait,” Morran said. “Fionn didn’t go this way. I would have seen him.”
“Do you really wish to squeeze through hidden passages and leap from roof to roof?” Kifi asked.