Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,8
softly. “It’s not like they’ve any reason to come after me now that the sword has been claimed.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning what?”
She waved a hand. “Later. Go shower. The air in the room is becoming unbreathable.”
I’d learned long ago straight answers and Mo weren’t often companions, but I nevertheless shook my head in frustration. “You are so annoying sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” She tsked again. “I’ll have to pick up my game. Go.”
I gulped down the remains of my tea and hobbled—wincing all the way—into the bathroom. After plugging my phone into the charger, I flicked on the shower and grabbed a fresh bar of soap. It was lavender scented, which would go some way to erasing the demons’ stink from my skin. Nothing would ever erase it from my clothes—they’d have to be burned when I got home—but I could at least wash the worst of the blood and muck off them.
Mo was on her phone when I finally came out of the bathroom, but waved me toward the bed. I lay on my stomach and closed my eyes, only half listening to the conversation. From the bits I could hear, she was talking to Barney—who was not only her current lover, but also the head of Ainslyn’s witch council. He didn’t sound happy.
“We’ve a meeting with the builders at eleven,” Mo was saying. “But we can be at your place by one, if that’s okay.”
Though I couldn’t hear exactly what he said, it sounded tetchy.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but building a secondary line of defense across the main gate has drained me. I can barely lift my arms, let alone fly any great distance.”
His reply sounded more conciliatory in tone, and Mo smiled. “Love you, too. See you soon.”
“Do you?” I asked, as she hung up.
“Probably not in the way he wishes, but there are many degrees of love.” She shrugged. “I’ve lost my heart many times over the centuries, but passion that burns the brightest doesn’t always last the longest. These days I prefer comfortable companionship over fervor.”
Amusement twitched my lips. “The two are not mutually exclusive.”
“They tend to be when you hit my age. Let’s get your back sorted out.” She tossed her phone onto her bed, then walked over to mine. “The bastard certainly took a good chunk out of you. He only missed your spine by a few centimeters.”
“Will it heal okay?” I already had more than enough scars on my body, thanks to damn demons—or half-demons, as was the case when it came to the melted-looking burn scar that now ran the length of my right side. I really didn’t need anything else.
“Of course it will. Now lie still while I get to work.”
My immunity to magic had never curtailed Mo’s ability to heal the various cuts and scrapes I’d gotten over the years. Apparently, this was due to the fact that, although I’d never had access to the De Montfort gift of healing, it nevertheless resided somewhere in my DNA.
As explanations went, it didn’t really make a lot of sense, but that was a very common theme when it came to Mo and answers.
She pressed her fingers to either side of the wound, then her power rose, a wave of heat that swept through my body, easing the aches and chasing away the pain. My skin rippled and twitched as it was healed from the inside out and, though it didn’t hurt, it felt weird.
The warmth of her magic and her touch finally left my skin. “Right, that’s all the major wounds healed. We’ll check the scrapes tomorrow, but the holy water should have taken care of any possible infection there.”
She flopped onto her bed, closed her eyes, and lightly rubbed her forehead. Guilt flickered through me, though I knew nothing I could have said or done would have stopped her. The best I could do now was look after her—though in a way that couldn’t be considered ‘fussing’, as that was something she absolutely hated.
I swung my feet off the bed. “You hungry?”
“Enough to eat a horse.”
I padded over to the small table. After flicking through the information booklet, I said, “We have the grand choice of Chinese, fish and chips, kebabs, or pizza if you want takeaway. There’s plenty of pubs, but given the state of my clothes, they’re out.”
“I feel like pizza—do they deliver?”
I flipped over the page. “No, but I can borrow your clothes and walk down there. It’s not far.” I