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That relationship wouldn’t protect her from Cynwrig’s wrath, however, and she was already walking a tightrope where he was concerned. I rather suspected she’d cooperate with both him and the IIT on this particular matter.

“When did the contract go out?” Cynwrig asked.

Our captive shrugged. “A week ago, if that.”

From what I understood of the process, it took at least several weeks after the proposal’s release for bids to be accepted and contracts finalized. Either this one had been hastily arranged or they’d placed a lot of money on the table to expedite proceedings.

“Was it just this one job you were meant to run interference on?” I asked.

“Oh no, it was an ongoing contract.”

My stomach sank. A revenge-seeking nutter armed with a fiery relic running around an ancient city that was more wood than stone was not what we needed right now. Or ever, really. “Do you know who or what the other targets were?”

He snorted. “Would you hand complete strangers—even if they were contractually sworn to silence—a list of potential targets, knowing full well that if things fucked up, said list would end up in the hands of authorities?”

I wouldn’t, but there was no guarantee we were dealing with anyone sane. “Can you describe Keelakm?”

“About five-eleven, slim frame, dark skin and hair, blue eyes.”

“Which is a pretty generic description of most dark elves.”

“He had a scar here.” Our captive touched his left cheek. “About an inch long.”

Which meant he would stand out in any elven crowd as long as he wasn’t using makeup or magic to disguise it. “Was he the only person you dealt with?”

“Until tonight, yes.”

“Meaning this was the first time you’d seen or dealt with the witch using the stone?” Cynwrig asked.

“He was an elf, not a witch. Spoke all posh, like one of them highborns.” His expression was disdainful, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. Highborn light elves could be a pretty unlikeable bunch at the best of times. Mathi was a rarity in many respects, but even he had his moments.

“Thing is, I didn’t actually see him,” my captive continued. “He was covered by a shadow shield the entire time.”

If our red-haired elf had hidden his features from his contractors, why hadn’t he tried to conceal them from me when the streetlight had torn his shield away?

That really made no sense, especially given that millisecond of recognition that had flared between us.

As the medics arrived with their patient trolleys, I pressed my fingers to our captive’s shoulder again.

“You will answer any questions the IIT asks, and you will refuse any future contracts involving Cynwrig, his family, or their buildings.” I hesitated. “You will also refuse any contract that involves me, my brother Lugh, or any premises or item we own.”

We might not have been the targets of this particular contract, but who knew what would happen in the future, especially now that I was committed to doing the council’s bidding for the next two years. It was a punishment that had arisen after I’d done a deep mind meld on my cousin Vincentia—the same cousin who’d been murdered by her employer in my loft. While using our command magic against other pixies in a minor way was generally overlooked, anything more went against the code.

My captive swore at me. Loudly and vehemently. No surprise, as I’d probably just curtailed a good chunk of his future earning potential.

Given the number of times I’d issued those exact same orders over the last few weeks, Deva might well experience a contractor shortage soon.

Franklyn rose, helped me to my feet, and guided me over to a trolley. Once secured, they swiftly wheeled me back to a waiting ambulance.

Cynwrig fell in step beside us. “Do you want me to ring Lugh and tell him you’re off to the hospital?”

“Gods no. He doesn’t take much time off, so let him enjoy a weekend.”

Amusement touched Cynwrig’s lovely lips. “He’ll be pissed when he finds out you’ve been hurt.”

“Yes, but I’ll be healed by the time he does, so it won’t matter. What are you going to do?”

I doubted he intended to come to the hospital with me, nor did I expect him to. He’d never allow the IIT to contact the relatives of those who’d probably died in the blast; it was a task he undertook personally, and that was one of the many non-physical attributes I admired.