Page 19 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion (Tales of a Monstrous Heart, #2)

Chapter Eleven

Kat

William was pale with worry, his apron lopsided on his shoulder as if he’d been manhandled. The hunter was clearly smart enough to release him in Emrys’s presence, sending the boy stumbling across the threshold towards us.

‘Oi!’ William snapped uneasily, a flush staining his freckled cheeks as he tried to straighten his shirt. ‘They—’

‘It’s all right, William.’ Emrys laid a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder as he nervously wrung his muddy hands.

Emrys’s predatory focus moved to the uninvited guests as the house groaned in warning.

‘My house isn’t fond of intruders, and neither am I. What would hunters be doing so far north?’ Emrys asked, voice edged with lethal calm. Hands pushed into his pockets, a relaxed ease to his shoulders but I sensed the darkness in his tone. Could feel it simmering in the air.

‘The title is Steward now, Lord Blackthorn. Surely you remember that?’ the man said as two other hunters shifted behind him. Hands on their blades, leaning casually against the wood panelling awaiting instruction.

Stewards. What the Council called their guard, despite most of them being nothing but the King’s old hunters given new titles and rank.

Who led the persecution of the fey in the north, who still arrested fey, claiming any they caught were rebels.

Hunters I knew Emrys had run into before, when he’d freed fey from their false charges in his reports.

‘I’d answer my question,’ Emrys warned.

The hunter grinned. ‘Haven’t you heard? The western road fell last night.’

Emrys froze. A surprised noise came from William next to me but I couldn’t focus on anything except the tension in Emrys’s back. The western road. The only path from north to south. So Elysior was divided once more and I had a horrible feeling something inevitable had begun.

‘The rebels blew up half the west bridge and set the mortal towns alight.’ The steward tutted at Emrys’s answering silence, straightening the fall of his tunic, the ostentatious gold buttons catching the lamplight.

‘It seems the rebels are painting quite a story about your recent … escapades , Lord Blackthorn.’

The steward’s eyes moved to me, lingering too long. ‘About your … nefarious companion too. The Kysillian has an appointment with the Council.’

‘I’ve already spoken on the matter,’ Emrys answered. A perfect image of contained restraint.

‘ Unfortunately , your lordship, they require her presence.’ The man moved forwards with purpose as if he intended to take my arm by force. Like a prisoner to be led to the pyre.

Quicker than I believed possible, Emrys moved. Seizing hold of the man’s wrist. So tightly I could have sworn I heard the creak of bone.

‘If you touch her, your men will be dragging your body from this hall.’ There was a lethal calm in those words. The house creaked with pleasure at the threat.

Then as quickly as he’d grabbed the man, Emrys sent him stumbling backwards into his watching companions. What little, lesser magic those hunters possessed simmered in the air with warning.

‘Are you so possessive of all your partner mages, Lord Blackthorn?’ The hunter half sneered, rubbing his wrist with indignation. ‘Or just the pretty ones?’

‘You have already manhandled my ward.’ Emrys stepped forward, forcing the hunter to take another step back, his men shuffling with unease in answer. ‘Be grateful you’re still in possession of those rotting stumps you call teeth.’

‘Now, Emrys, let us not murder guests before lunchtime.’ The amused words echoed down the hallway as Gideon appeared, pulling on his gloves. Golden hair swept back from his face. A fine navy coat buttoned and matching cravat in place as if already warned of this horrid appointment.

The hunters turned, positioning themselves as if sensing the new threat.

‘Healer Swift.’ The main hunter at least had the courtesy to bow his head in greeting, those hate-filled eyes shifting uneasily. ‘There were … rumours you’d resurfaced.’

‘Let’s hope my jilted lovers haven’t heard just yet.

I could do without cock curses being sent my way.

’ Gideon smiled, a charming offering, but I could see the sharpness in his eyes as they landed on William’s rumpled shirt.

‘William, I believe there is a messenger at the service door that requires your attention.’

The boy hesitated behind me for the barest moment but I felt the brush of Emrys’s magic.

The silent command as if it sought to push the boy with invisible hands.

William slipped away obediently, the house materialising the stairs just to our right and, in a blink, the opening was gone. William with it.

‘The Council demands the presence of Miss Woodrow,’ the leader repeated, lips curled with annoyance.

‘And you attempted to drag her out in her dressing gown?’ Gideon asked with a sharp smile. ‘Who knew the old bastards were so perverse .’

‘You’ll show the masters of the republic respect,’ the hunter bit out in response. ‘Her presence is not a request.’

No, because the Council hated lose ends. Hated the barest tendrils of truth slipping free of their grasp.

Emrys tensed. His magic sharper in the air than the winter wind had been. ‘I told the Council—’

‘If they seek my presence, then they shall have it,’ I answered, making Emrys’s back go rigid, as I curled my hand gently into the crook of his arm. His attention turned to me immediately, Gideon shooting me a dark, wary look.

Only there was nothing but calm in my answering expression. The creature those Council members had trained me to be. Quiet. Demure and still.

The Council sought me, as they always had. To discredit and mock. To act as a scapegoat for their failures, only it was their last mistake.

For I’d found my vengeance in that darkness. Found it in all the fey they’d silenced, and just like them, I’d be silent no longer.

Emrys’s dark grey eyes ran over every inch of my expression, seeking my fear or apprehension. Only when he found none did he relax ever so slightly.

‘Very well,’ he relented, a muscle moving in his jaw.

Surprise flickered across the hunter’s face before he hid it behind a scowl. The two behind him shifting uneasily at my forwardness.

‘If you’ll give me a moment. I’ll need to make myself presentable,’ I offered, excusing myself as I moved towards the stairs.

‘I’m certain you gentlemen won’t mind waiting with me at the portal entrance,’ Gideon said behind me.

‘Your presence isn’t required, Healer Swift.’ The hunter’s words were sharp and mocking with his irritation. ‘You can return to your grave, or whatever whorehouse you’ve been hiding in.’

Gideon’s answering laugh sent a cold streak of fear down my spine. Feeling that ruthless energy humming around him.

‘Miss Woodrow is suffering from summoning sickness, caused by exposure at Fairfax Manor, as the Council is aware from my report,’ Gideon replied, a hard edge to the authority in his voice. ‘She is under my care; therefore, I’ll be accompanying her.’

That thankfully gave the hunter pause as I climbed the stairs, and I was almost to the top when Alma came charging around the corner, clawed fingers gripping onto the banister as she glared at me.

‘Where in this fucking cursed earth have you—’

‘Shh.’ I pressed my hand over her mouth, forcing her back against the wall. ‘Council hunters are here.’

She dragged my hand away but didn’t let it go. Those eyes reptilian in a moment. ‘What for?’

‘Me,’ I answered reluctantly.

She half choked, shaking her head furiously. ‘You can’t go into the Council chambers. You were almost dead a few nights ago.’

‘I don’t think there’s another choice,’ I argued, despite knowing she was right. I felt like a wrung-out rag, and I doubted sitting in bed would stop that.

‘Kat, they’ll—’

‘I know what they’ll do,’ I cut her off. What they’d done every time before. Ridiculed me. Abused me. Anything they could. The worst pain of all was that I’d let them. Drank the poison of their lies gladly. Let those fey die.

The truth of that would have cowed me, only now it stiffened my spine. Now I understood – I’d survived worse than them.

With a settling breath I pulled back and made for my room, the house jangling some small fairy bells to show me it had moved the door nearer to the stairs. However, as I entered, I realised I was back in Emrys’s room.

‘My clothes aren’t here,’ I complained in the direction of the floorboards. Only for the wardrobe doors to burst open, to see my dresses rattling on their hangers within. Many more than I’d come with, and I wondered just where on earth all the rest had appeared from.

I ignored the forwardness of the house. It was my own fault. I had willingly entered Emrys’s bed. I couldn’t be annoyed at the house’s clear delight at the debauchery I offered it.

‘What are you going to do?’ Alma demanded, closing the bedroom door. ‘You’re still too weak to be going and—’

I caught her hands again, stilling her panic for the barest moments. ‘Emrys and Gideon will be with me and if we’re going to solve this and help anyone … I need to answer this summons.’

I needed the Council off my back. I needed to be free of it once and for all.

I didn’t know what she saw lingering in my eyes but whatever it was settled her enough for her to pull in a harsh breath, for those scales to slip back beneath her skin and for determination to spread across her features.

‘If you come back with the barest scratch, I’ll kill you myself,’ she snapped, turning for the wardrobe and rifling through the options available.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ I laughed softly, cutting it short when it still pulled at the ache in my ribs. Remembering the hunters had interrupted me taking my tonic.

‘Wear the black lace. That’ll really piss the bastards off.’ She draped it on the bed, scowling down at the fabric as if the barest crease had caused her some great offence.

‘That’d normally worry you,’ I observed, earning myself an annoyed glance.

‘I’m confident Blackthorn will probably kill them all before you can get a word in anyway,’ she added dryly, pulling me towards the dressing table to start on my hair. It worried me more how pleased she seemed by the idea.