Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown Book 2)

by Keri Arthur

  Not that we could risk that, either.

  “What’s happened?” Luc said. “Are you okay?”

  The tension and concern in his voice came through loud and clear, and it made me smile. He might not want anything long-term but he did care, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it.

  “I’m fine, but there’s a dead woman and an unconscious kid here.”

  “I’ll get on to Jason now. Be there in ten.”

  Meaning he wasn’t that far away. Relief stirred, and I closed my eyes against the sting of more tears. Which was utterly unlike me and spoke to just how physically draining that storm burst had been.

  I slid down the wall next to the little girl and lightly gripped her wrist to check her pulse again. It remained thready, but I couldn’t see any external sign of major injury. Hopefully, it meant she’d simply been knocked out.

  Her face was Okoro in shape, her features almost ethereal, and her short hair thick and a rich burnished gold color. Her skin was on the pale side, but it was hard to tell if it held a gray tint or not. Her hands certainly didn’t. Nor were they clawed.

  Her build was on the wiry side, but her limbs were sturdy. She didn’t in any way resemble the Aranea, and I very much doubted he was her father. I glanced at the woman. It was impossible to tell if she was the mother or merely a caretaker, but she had the same wiry build, and the bits of hair that weren’t gore-covered were burnished gold.

  Aquitaine, an inner voice whispered. Whether she was a halfling or a full blood wasn’t immediately obvious.

  So why did the Aranea want them dead?

  Or had someone else given the order and he’d been forced to pass it on? He’d certainly spent some time in the car arguing with whoever had been on the other end of the phone—had he been trying to protect these two and been overridden?

  Maybe.

  Until we knew more about the woman and the child, it really wasn’t a question we could answer.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, given I was in a house that might be connected to Darkside in more ways than just these two, but the light streaming in from the window was hurting my already aching eyes.

  Time ticked by. Eventually, the approaching roar of a motorbike broke the hush surrounding the house. It stopped outside, and a few seconds later, Luc said, “Gwen? You still here?”

  “Upstairs.” It came out croaky, and I swallowed heavily. My throat felt like a desert. “Can you grab me a glass of water before you come up?”

  “Will do.” He moved away, and pipes rattled as he turned on a tap. Then he was back and coming up the stairs.

  I forced my eyes open as he stepped into the room. His gaze swept the three of us and then returned to me. “Why are your eyes bleeding when you didn’t have Nex or Vita with you?”

  “It would appear I can use their lightning without actually holding them.”

  “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  I accepted the cup he handed me with a nod of thanks and drank it down in several swift gulps. It didn’t immediately ease the dryness in my throat, or the weakness clinging to the rest of me.

  “Neither did I.”

  He squatted beside me and gently touched the wounds on my neck. “And these?”

  “The Aranea dug his claws in while attempting to choke me.”

  “So it’s his ashes on the stairs?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t get up here in time to save the woman, but the child is still alive.”

  His gaze briefly flicked to her, but his hand remained pressed against my neck, and the warmth of his touch pulsed through me, chasing away some of the weariness. “She doesn’t look like a halfling.”

  “That may be the whole point,” I said. “And it makes no sense that the Aranea was sent here to kill them. Why not move her—especially considering we didn’t even know she existed?”

  “They must have been under the impression that we did.” He studied the girl for a moment. “It’s also possible that they had no intention of killing the girl.”

  More than possible, when I actually thought about it. One blow could have easily killed her; instead, he’d simply hit her hard enough to knock her out.

  The sound of approaching sirens invaded the brief silence. Luc glanced toward the window. “That’ll be Jason’s people. I’ll head down and update them—you going to be all right for a few seconds?”

  I smiled. “I’m not that fragile, Luc.”

  “Normally no, but whatever the force you used was, it’s damn well drained you. You’re looking decidedly gaunt right now.”

  “I’m too well rounded to ever look gaunt.”

  I said it as a joke, but he didn’t look amused. “Elemental magic can kill the user just as easily as those it’s set against—and you’ve barely recovered from the force you unleashed at the hospital.”

  “This wasn’t elemental—”

  “The smell in the air says otherwise.”

  I frowned. “Elemental magic hasn’t got a smell—”

  “That depends entirely on the element. Storm magic—or, more specifically, lightning—has sharp smell, not unlike something inorganic burning, such as electrical wires or plastic. That scent still rides the air here.”

  Did that mean the force coming from Nex and Vita was elemental in origin? That made absolute sense, given the king’s sword drew on the power of all elements and the daggers were not only created in the same forge, but of the same steel. So why would Mo say they drew on the strength of their wielder?

  I wearily rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Nothing is making much sense today.”

  “No, it’s not.” His fingers left my neck, leaving me feeling colder than I ever thought possible. I shivered and crossed my arms; Luc immediately took a blanket from the bed and draped it over me. “I’ll be back with the medics in minutes.”

  “I’ll be fine. Really.”

  He gave me a disbelieving look and then left the room. I tugged the blanket around my neck and tried to get warm. The fact that my borrowed pants, shoes, and socks were all soaked wasn’t helping the situation. If I didn’t wake up tomorrow with a chill, I’d be very surprised.

  A sharp sound had me looking down. The little girl whimpered. I hesitated, and then wrapped my hand around hers. “It’s okay, little one. No one is going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

  At the sound of my voice, her eyes sprang open. Shock coursed through me, and a gasp escaped.

  The girl’s eyes were sky blue ringed by gold.

  She was a De Montfort.

  Chapter Five

  But … how was that possible?

  De Montforts were few and far between here in England. There were certainly branches of the family living in multiple other countries, but there’d only been a dozen or so De Montforts located here in England when both Henry and Gareth had been killed. And Ada—their sister—hadn’t yet had any kids.

  Had her parents come here from overseas? If so, where were they? Or was she simply the result of Darkside’s witch breeding program? My gaze jumped to the battered woman—surely if she was the girl’s mother and had been impregnated by the dark elves, she wouldn’t have willingly remained here. There were no obvious signs of restraints on her or in the house—though I guess that didn’t mean there weren’t unobvious ones.

  The girl made another odd noise—it almost sounded like the mewling of a kitten—and seemed to shrink in on herself. Fear shone from her eyes, and her battered lips were quivering. “It’s okay,” I said softly. “You’re okay. I promise.”

  Her gaze swept my face and then moved to the dead woman. I flicked the blanket over the remains but not fast enough to prevent the child seeing what had been done. She didn’t react. Not in any normal way. But her little fingers clutched mine more tightly and there was an almost unnatural strength in her grip.

  Footsteps echoed on the stairs—Luc and a medic, from the sound of their conversation.

  “The girl’
s awake,” I called out softly. “Don’t make any sudden moves, or you’ll scare her.”

  Luc stepped aside, and a stranger appeared. The latter’s build was long and thin, and he had dark skin and eyes. He could almost have been a De Montfort, although we tended not to be that tall. His facial structure was more Chen though and, skin color aside, he could almost have been Tris’s twin.

  As he turned toward us, the girl made another odd sound and leapt into my arms. I wrapped them around her wiry frame, aware of her trembling and breathing in her fear.

  The medic hesitated, then got down and shuffled the remaining distance on his knees. The girl eyed him fiercely, but otherwise remained still. Only the trembling gave away her fear.

  He stopped next to us and sat back on his haunches. “My name is Mark,” he said, his voice soft and oh-so soothing. “I’m here to fix your nose—that’s really sore, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t respond. It made me wonder if she was in some way mute—it would certainly explain the odd sounds she kept making.

  Unless, of course, the only language she knew was dark elf or demon …

  “May I touch your hand?” he continued. “You’ll feel a warm, tingly sensation, but that’s just me checking your injuries. I promise it won’t hurt you.”

  Meaning there was De Montfort in his bloodline somewhere.

  The little girl continued to eye him fiercely, but, after a moment, held out one hand. She understood us even if she couldn’t speak.

  Mark lightly gripped her fingers, and his energy warmed the air as it flowed through his hand and up the little girl’s arms. She shivered but otherwise didn’t move. The bruising on her cheek rapidly faded, her lip healed, and her nose reverted to a more normal shape.

  The energy retreated, and Mark gave a soft grunt of satisfaction. “She hasn’t got any internal injuries, although we should still take her to hospital so she can be monitored—”

  The girl made a garbled, distressed sound and flung her arms around my neck. “I’m thinking that means she doesn’t want to go.”

  He frowned. “She’s a kid. I hardly think she has any understanding—”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” I cut in. “And we have no idea what other trauma she’s seen or suffered.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t negate the fact that hospital—our hospital—is the safest place for her.”

  She made another mewling sound, and her arms tightened. She wasn’t choking me by any means, but she didn’t really have to to cause me pain—not with the bruising and the cuts already there.

  I glanced past Mark to Luc. “We can’t risk it. Not after what happened to Henry.”

  He frowned. “She’ll be safer there than anywhere else—”

  “We thought that about Henry, too.”

  He studied me for a second and then swept a hand through his thick hair. “Fine. But in that case, we need to get her out of here before Darkside realizes things haven’t gone as they planned.”

  I nodded and glanced down at the little girl. “I’m going to stand up and take you away from this house and get you somewhere safe—okay?”

  She nodded. I tightened my grip on her, then, with one hand braced against the wall for support, pushed upright. The room immediately spun, and it was all I could do to remain upright.

  Mark half reached out, as if to grab me. “I’m thinking you’re the one that needs to be in hospital rather than the girl.”

  “What’s wrong with me will be fixed by a decent meal and a good night’s sleep.”

  “But your eyes—”

  “Are just the result of overusing elemental magic. I’m good. Really.”

  He hesitated, then slung his pack off his shoulder and opened it up. “In that case, take these with you.” He handed me two bottles of tablets. Both were Panadol, but one was for kids, the other extra-strength and obviously meant for me. “Use them if you need to.”

  I tucked them into my pocket and then moved past him. Luc turned and led the way down the stairs—no doubt with the intention of catching me should I fall—then lightly gripped my elbow and guided me out the front door. A black car pulled up as we exited; the door opened, and a craggy-faced, silver-haired man in his late forties climbed out. Jason, the preternatural team’s lead investigator and a good friend of Luc’s.

  “I should have guessed you’d be involved,” he said, voice dry. “You seem to have a talent for attracting trouble.”

  “At least it’s keeping you in a job,” I replied mildly.

  He snorted, and his gaze switched to Luc. “Why are you running off with one of our survivors?”

  “Long story short, we can’t risk a repeat of what happened with Henry.”

  Jason frowned. “Henry was an heir—”

  “And in one of your most secure locations,” I said. “It’ll be better for everyone if we take her off grid.”

  “And we’ll need to borrow the car,” Luc added. “So if you can arrange transport for the motorbike, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I’ll hold it hostage until a full explanation of what is going on is forthcoming,” Jason said, voice dry.

  Luc laughed. “As per usual. And you’ll send an update as soon as you get the woman’s ID?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Thank you.”

  The two of them exchanged keys, then Jason went inside. I convinced the child to release me and belted her into the middle seat before climbing in beside her. She immediately pressed against me, her little fingers resting gently on my arm.

  Luc did a quick U-turn then glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “I take it your comment about going off grid means Blackbird-related locations are also out?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “No offense, but we can’t risk it. It’ll be safer for her and safer for anyone who guards her.”

  “Where do you suggest we go?”

  “I have no clue.” I shifted and dragged my phone out of my pocket. “But Mo will.”

  She answered on the second ring. “What the hell has been happening? I’ve been getting all sorts of horrendous vibes from the cosmos.”

  “The Aranea killed the woman inside the house, but I managed to save the little girl.”

  “More went on than that. The vibes held the stink of a rising storm, and I haven’t smelled something like that for generations.”

  “I’ll explain all that later. Right now, we need somewhere secure to take the girl.”

  “Why isn’t the preternatural team looking after her?”

  “Because Henry wasn’t safe with them, and I don’t think she will be.” I hesitated. “Mo, she’s a De Montfort.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s … interesting.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t say impossible.”

  “I think the events of the last week or so have proven the impossible no longer is.” Her voice was dry. “I take it you’ve already left Leeds?”

  “In the process of, yes.”

  “Give me a few minutes then, and I’ll make some calls.”

  She hung up without waiting for my reply. I dropped the phone onto my lap and then glanced down at the pale little face resting against my side. She was asleep. It was obvious she trusted me, despite the fact I was a stranger and, given my bloody eyes, probably a scary-looking one at that.

  “Why do you think the Aranea was sent to that house to kill the woman and maybe this kid?” I said. “It really doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Maybe they’re simply getting rid of the loose ends.”

  “But the woman wasn’t guarded—”

  “Was Jules?”

  “Not that we noticed.”

  “Then it’s possible there was some sort of electronic or magic-based tracker involved.”

  That would explain why the woman had stayed in the house when the Aranea pulled into the driveway. Maybe she knew it was pointless trying to run and had grabbed the metal pole for defense—only to have it ripped from her grasp and used agai
nst her.

  “It makes sense to track Jules—they obviously knew we were looking for him. But nothing we’ve come across mentioned an Aquitaine woman with a De Montfort child.”

  Nothing we could understand, at any rate. It was possible the partially destroyed notes we’d found in the deconsecrated church might have mentioned something, but everything had been written in elvish, and we were still trying to find someone to transcribe them.

  “You’re presuming the dead woman is her mother. She may not be.” Luc’s gaze met mine in the rearview mirror again. “As to the father—do you think she could be Henry’s? Or Gareth’s?”

  “Gareth is the more likely of the two. He definitely had a way with the ladies.” I wrinkled my nose. “I doubt he’d have kept her locked away like that, though. He might not have wanted children just yet, but he would have supported them both.”

  “There’s no evidence as yet that he—or whoever else the father might be—isn’t. She wasn’t living in a run-down area, after all.”

  True. “I gather Jason will be doing a full background on her?”

  “As a matter of course.” He hesitated. “Could she be your brother’s offspring?”

  “He’s homosexual, not bi.”

  “Which doesn’t mean anything these days. Plenty of homosexual men have used artificial insemination and a surrogate to have children.”

  “Yes, but does my brother in any way look ready to settle down and support a kid? Hell, he can barely support himself half the time.”

  “All true, and yet it remains a possibility you can’t deny.”

  I sure as hell wanted to. “The only way we’ll ever find out is to do a DNA test.”

  “I’m sure either Jason or even Ginny could arrange for that to be done ASAP.”

  I frowned at the edge in his voice. “Why are you so certain she’s his?”