and then huffed and grabbed Isla and Night, who both quickly seized hold of Grave as they dropped into a hole in the ground.
“Well, thank my Dark Lord he’s gone.” Syn’s tone was a little too bright. A little too breezy. “I hope I never see him again.”
She played with her black hair, twisting the softly spiked ends just above her right shoulder.
And briefly touched her polished onyx horn on that side.
Mackenzie stood and went to her, gathered her into a hug that had Syn scowling at her, looking as if she didn’t have a clue why his mate was holding her. Hartt shook his head and smiled. It fell from his face as he thought about his fight against the mage and recalled things about it. His violet gaze slid to Fuery.
“I know why the mage targeted me. It wasn’t because of coin. He said something about how when we killed the huntress, he lost access to someone called Aryanna.” Hartt frowned as he remembered something else too.
“Aryanna?” Fuery’s eyebrows knitted hard. “Do any of you know that name?”
Rosalind and Vail shook their heads, and neither Syn nor Mackenzie looked as if it was familiar to them as they broke apart.
“I think she’s a witch,” Hartt put in and everyone looked at him. “The mage mentioned power. Something about a Crow beating him to her power.”
Rosalind stiffened. “A Crow? You’re sure he said Crow?”
Hartt nodded.
Concern washed across her face.
“What is it?” Hartt pushed to his feet and came to face her, wanted to growl when she looked at her mate rather than answering him.
“This is a little worrying,” she said softly, her pale eyebrows furrowing. Her blue gaze shifted back to Hartt. “A Crow is… They’re a sort of witch, but none of my kind would dare call them that in front of another. They’re reviled. We call them Crows because they steal from the dead. Not anything physical. It’s power they steal. Spells. Memories too if the tales witches whisper about them are right.”
“So this Aryanna is dead?” Hartt frowned again when she shook her head.
“Possibly not. We only say they steal from the dead because… It’s hard to explain. The legends say that a Crow isn’t born a Crow. They become one. They’re born with the gift. They’re normal witches until something happens to them and reveals what they are… a creature born of the death of another of their kind.”
Hartt wasn’t wholly following her, tried to make sense of what she was saying but found it hard to believe when she had labelled it as a legend. “So a Crow is a witch born with all the knowledge of a previous Crow, but they don’t know they’re a Crow until something awakens them?”
She nodded. “Because of the accumulated knowledge they gain, they’re extremely powerful and dangerous. They have thousands of spells at their disposal, ones lost to other witches. If a Crow is after something, then that can’t be good.”
Hartt had to agree with that. “It would have to be something they need… something that could make them more powerful.”
He couldn’t imagine what one of these Crows might need that wasn’t already in their head courtesy of whatever magic or dark power had created them.
“And it has to be something inside Archangel.” As Hartt said that, Rosalind’s look only turned more sombre.
He didn’t like the thought of the hunter organisation having a powerful witch or whatever Aryanna was in their hands either. He had lost too many good people and friends to that organisation’s apparently ‘noble’ cause.
“I’ll talk to Sable and her gang—the crew at Underworld. We need to know what this source of power Archangel is holding is and Sable might know.” Rosalind paused and frowned. “Or Talon, the tiger who works for Kyter now. I heard he was held by Archangel. He might have seen something.”
“I might be able to help there.” Hartt ran his thumb across his lower lip and studied the fire as he thought about what he was going to suggest. He wasn’t one for wanting an exchange when he took on a contract, and he was sure the male wasn’t going to be happy when he amended the terms of their deal, but he needed to know who or what Aryanna was, because he had the feeling trouble was brewing on the horizon and Archangel were up to something not so noble after all. “I took on a job recently. An incubus hired us to find his mate. He believes