Nothing here could kill me, but it could disable me. Something I didn’t have time for. I kept a close eye on everything alive in the house, which was almost fucking everything.
Aubrey led me into his office and closed the door, watching as I narrowed my eyes at a red-petalled plant that arched toward me.
“Not poisonous. Just curious,” he assured me. “You seem… tense.”
We’d barely spoken, but it didn’t take someone close to me to notice I was on edge. I’d never been one to take betrayal lightly. I soothed myself with the thought of turning Taraghlan into a pile of ash and took a seat in front of Aubrey’s desk, arranging my wings over the low back of the chair.
I wasn’t surprised when, instead of sitting behind his desk, he sat in the chair next to me.
“Something has happened to Danica,” he murmured.
I stared steadily back at him.
I hadn’t spoken to my little witch while she slept. Two of her nights had passed, and she’d blocked me from her subconscious. Sometimes I could feel her, grief-stricken and filled with rage.
But she hadn’t come to me.
Something was very, very wrong.
My spies had reported that she hadn’t been seen at court. Hadn’t been seen walking the gardens. My mind played through all of the things Lucifer could have done to her. All the ways he could have hurt her.
And now, the flame of her—usually so strong it threatened to burn everything in sight—was barely a spark.
Because I’d failed. Because I was late. Because Iwasn’t there.
Was that why she was staying away? Why she didn’t want to see me? No, I knew my witchling, and she refused to blame me. No matter how much I blamed myself.
But there was no limit to the suffering Lucifer could cause her in an attempt to make Danica fall in line.
A sharp, cold panic took up residence in my gut.
“She is a prisoner,” was all I said. Aubrey raised one eyebrow, but didn’t comment. “By now you know your king, the one you are so loyal to, has betrayed me. That betrayal was created to ensure my doom, the slaughter of all my people, and the brutal draining of Danica’s powers before she is murdered.”
I watched as the muscles around his eyes tightened. “I have heard about his recent dealings with Lucifer,” he admitted. “I can only say that I am disappointed in his actions.”
“You once gave Danica a blade,” I changed the subject to keep him off-guard. He raised one eyebrow, and I gave him a smile much sharper than that blade. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
To his credit, the seelie didn’t look cowed. He merely crossed one leg over the other and smiled at me.
“You’re not here about my friendship with Danica. Why don’t you tell me what you want, Samael?”
A reluctant respect almost made me smile. “Ah, Aubrey, if onlyyouwere king.”
“As I told Danica, I’m loyal to my king.” He almost winced as he said the words and I rolled my eyes.
“Your king will die for his betrayal,” I promised. “If not by my hand, then by Finvarra’s, with the full support of both the demons and the werewolves. It’s your choice who steps into that role eventually, and frankly, the sad state of your court is none of my concern. But you have a chance right now. A chance to change the trajectory of this war and save Danica’s life. You have a choice to make,princeling.”
Yes, he’d kept that information quiet, but Aubrey had enough power–and enough support–to eventually claim the throne. As of now, he had no plans to do such a thing. My spies had told me he enjoyed his life in this realm. Besides, civil war was never pretty.
Aubrey’s expression darkened, and I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. One of his vines slipping toward me, crawling over his desk. I allowed my hand to glow with demon fire and the vine stopped moving.
“Your king negotiated with Danica while I was turning to dust after the Spell of Three. She made a deal with him, and in turn, he delayed her, choosing not to tell her she needed a witchbone in order to save my life. You’ll remember this well, since you were the one who told her she needed it. Likely against your king’s wishes.”
“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” Aubrey gritted out.
“As the humans like to say, that was strike one,” I said, ignoring him. “Betraying me and delaying my ability to find this artifact was strike two.” I pulled the artifact from my pocket and placed it on his desk. The seelie stared at the unassuming candlestick holder like it was more poisonous than every plant in this house.
My smile widened. “Would you like to know what strike three was?”
