Using the blood, Hag frantically drew weird symbols onto the glass, finishing just as a flash of what looked like lightning torpedoed toward them.
“Hold . . . hold steady,” Hag muttered. The bolt ricocheted off the plane of glass and back into that darkness. Another scream sounded—
The glass was solid once more, the symbols seeming to seep into the mirror before disappearing.
Hag sagged back against the wall. “They knew enough of our key to find you. Dark gods, that was close.”
“You saved me, thank you.”
Her face paled. “It was
“No harm, no foul? I don’t have a scratch on me.”
“You do not know Lothaire.” Hag’s expression was stricken.
“What if I didn’t tell him?”
“And what would you want in return?”
Ellie’s gaze dipped to her phone. “You know what I want.”
“I vowed to the Lore never to betray Lothaire. Even if I wanted to let you call, it’s impossible to break an oath to the Lore.”
“Then what
Hag’s eyes darted. “I don’t know . . . I can’t think.”
“Better hurry. He could return soon. Hey, maybe you could answer twenty questions for me.”
In a rapid patter, Hag said, “I’d have to reserve the right not to answer certain questions if said answers might adversely affect Lothaire’s interests. A clever person could glean much solely from the questions I refused.”
“Help me clean up, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Um, yeah, I’m gonna need you to vow that to the Lore.”
Hag squinted at Ellie. “I have a very portentous feeling about you. But I want to live. So, I vow to the Lore to give you information about our world.”
“All right. Tell me what you want me to do. . . .”
Hag gave her a powder to pour over the sink and along the machete to make the blood disappear while she disintegrated the witch’s hand in another vat.
When everything was set to rights, Hag said, “It doesn’t matter how clean we’ve made it—you’re going to give us away. He’ll see right through you.”
Ellie returned to her stool. “Look, it’s just like when the Law comes around asking about a still or a lab. Even if I’m caught with a jar of shine in my hand, I’ll deny it. I turn into a brick wall. I’m not the weak link here—”
“I smell witch blood,” Lothaire intoned from behind them.
The fey whirled around a little quickly, but Ellie was an expert at this. “Yeah, I cannot believe you freaks ship shit like that through the USPS.” She drummed her nails on the counter. “I plan to report you when I escape.”
“Uh-huh.” Lothaire narrowed his eyes at Hag. “What potion called for witch’s blood?”
“I strengthened the boundary spell against them specifically after you told me of the bounty. The House will stop at nothing to capture Elizabeth.”
He scrutinized Hag’s face, clearly suspicious. “Such foresight.”
“I
“How goes your search, Lothaire?” Hag asked.
“I get closer.” He turned that penetrating gaze to Ellie. “Saroya?”
“Not a peep.”
“If I find out you have held her back . . .”
“Dang it, I’m not!”
Lothaire evinced the most terrifying look that Ellie had ever seen on a man. It gave her chills, made her want to dive for cover. Then he disappeared.
Ellie was about to exhale a pent-up breath when she remembered an old cops’ trick. “Straight face, Hag. He’s coming right back.”
20
T
Lothaire returned to Hag’s home seconds later to catch them sharing a confidence, a look of relief. . . .
He’d made himself invisible, but he merely found the fey stirring her pot while Elizabeth continued to drum her nails on the counter.
With narrowed eyes, Lothaire returned to his task.
Over the last few hours, he’d covered miles, racing outward from Riora’s empty temple through an ancient forest.
Since he could only trace to places he’d previously been or places he could see, he had difficulty covering large amounts of ground. It was almost as easy to run, following the trails animals made as they fled his presence.
Though this task could help him complete his Endgame, he found his thoughts drifting to Elizabeth yet again, this time to the look of longing on her face as she’d stared at the sea.
His satisfaction over that had proved curiously
Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? Or how she’d melted for him earlier at the apartment?
He’d never had trouble with females before. Now two had come into his life, as if solely to plague him.
One didn’t seem to desire him; the other did, but only because she’d been deprived of
What would he do if Saroya still hadn’t risen by tonight? Betray his Bride?
Lothaire’s need to be faithful wasn’t for sentimental reasons, but for logical ones. He’d studied the truly great kings and queens in the Lore, and historically, royal couples who amassed power together did not sleep with others.
The males didn’t take concubines. The females didn’t secretly slip into others’ beds.
The pair presented a united front to the world, with no cracks in their foundation for enemies to worm their way into. Each demonstrated utter loyalty—only to the other.
Lothaire couldn’t argue with facts.
He’d expected this unity with Saroya, had planned for it. But
He tensed, catching the shifter pack’s scent. He tracked it to a den entrance, then plunged inside.
Into the earth.
He followed a tunnel to a vaultlike cavern—their central gathering place, with offshoot passageways in all directions. Around a fire, bedding covered the ground, and stone benches lined the walls.
Roots dangled from the ceiling like grasping fingers.
He scented mortals somewhere deeper in the cavern.
The shifters began to emerge from other tunnels. Dozens surrounded him, all in their human forms, but
