The Lonely King required a range of powers. To do that, Fagan had to harvest a range of hearts from magical creatures. The Lonely King had been quite specific about the powers he wanted, but he hadn’t added seer to the list. Because seers were criminally rare. You could go your whole career without meeting one.
But hey, there was now one close enough to touch. To prove that point, Fagan shifted forward, planted an elbow on the desk, reached his finger out, and tapped the screen, nail impacting right where the seer’s throat was.
Fagan couldn’t even count how many points this would earn him. Dragging in a seer’s heart? Oh, the Lonely King would never forget that.
Fagan pushed up from the seat, and it clattered behind him as he shoved his hands into his pockets, turned, and sat roughly on the edge of the desk.
He stared over his shoulder, caught sight of the footage in his peripheral vision, and smiled.
Then he pushed up from the desk, walked out, and figured out his next move.
He’d have to be careful – seers were notorious for dodging bullets, after all. But he’d captured this one before, so he could damn well do it again.
If he acted quickly enough, she wouldn’t see it coming.
Chapter 4
I didn’t get a chance to go home. Max found a car from somewhere across the side of the street. I’d seen him pull up in a motorbike, and yet he seemed to have the keys for a sedan, too. I didn’t question, just got in the front seat, determined to ignore him. Which proved a problem when I realized we weren’t headed home.
“Hold on, where are we going?”
He didn’t bother to turn to me. “The police station.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I said so. And, in case you’ve forgotten, you just saved a woman’s life.”
I could tell he tried to keep his tone even, but it didn’t quite work. His voice became stressed in all the wrong places.
I suddenly noticed he was pale, too.
Was he scared for me? Or was it something else?
And did it even matter? Because I was not going to the police station. I wanted to go home, have a bath, and jolly well go to bed.
“I don’t see why we’re doing this. Can’t I just go home? Detective Coulson hasn’t even contacted me yet. You said this morning that we were meant to wait until he makes the first move,” I protested.
Max, one hand on the steering wheel, the other permanently rested on the gear stick, turned to me. His expression wasn’t disdainful, but it wasn’t exactly full of cheer, either. “Because you’re in over your head, already,” he admonished.
“Really? I’m in over my head already? And why do you think that’s the case? Could it be because you dragged me along by the ear without ever telling me anything?”
“This is no time for bickering. We need to contact Coulson, figure out what he knows, and work with him to solve this case immediately. For the good of the witches in this town, and for your own safety, too.” His voice did it again – dropped to such a low, rumbling note I thought it would accidentally end up popping the tires.
I pressed my lips together, winced, and swallowed, feeling like I wanted to throw up all over the dash.
It was happening again, wasn’t it? I was being thrust headfirst into another ridiculous magical adventure. No reprieve, and – unless you counted the argumentative, frustrating Max – no help, either.
I brought up a hand, planted it over my face and pressed against my eyes until I saw stars.
“You can’t hide from this,” he snapped.
“Thank you, I know that.”
Rather than engage the big brute in any more conversation, I decided to completely ignore him until he finally pulled up outside of the police station. The familiar knot of nerves formed in my gut, and I had to cram a hand on my stomach not to throw up.
Though I’d saved Bridgette’s life, and she had caught her attacker, I knew this case wasn’t over. Oh no, it would be just getting started.
Just as I was intent on giving Max the silent treatment, he was doing the same to me. Maybe he was trying to punish me for losing him for eight hours. Or maybe it was what I’d said before Bridgette and Sarah had finished in the garage. That Max would be the death of me….
It had been a hell of a reaction. The way his face had paled, the way his eyes had bulged. I doubted it was just leftover stress. So what could it be? Though I had mixed up feelings for Max, I really doubted it would be the end of his life if I popped my clogs. So maybe it was something significant for a fairy? Maybe he’d get in trouble if he failed to keep me safe.
I let those thoughts and more distract me as we walked into the police station. We didn’t even need to ask to see Detective Coulson. He was waiting there in front of reception, arms crossed. As soon as he saw us, his face lit up. It wasn’t with joy, though, just relieved tension. And if you don’t think relieved tension is a thing, it was with Coulson. His broad shoulders and angular face had this unique ability to look stressed and yet calm.
He pushed forward, rubber-soled shoes practically skidding on the buffed floor. “This way.”
Had he been waiting for us? Had Max called ahead? Or maybe Detective Coulson had his own precognitive powers.
Nope, and nope.
As Coulson strode forward, he turned to face me.
