“—are lovers, yes, and you do not ever mess with the lover of a dark elf lord. They tend to get a little touchy about that sort of thing.” Amusement teased his lips. “To be honest, I am utterly surprised he allowed you to evenhaveother lovers.”
I rolled my eyes. “He doesn’t own me, Mathi. He has no say in who I date or bed.”
Although he very definitely hadnotbeen happy when I’d told him that if he wasn’t exclusive, then neither was I.
“In case it has escaped your notice,” he said, tone dry, “we elves have somewhat backward—some might say caveman-like—views when it comes to certain things. For us Ljósálfar, it’s never double cross us; for the Myrkálfar, it’s do not mess with those they consider dear to them, be it family, friend, or lover.”
“But we don’t even know each other that well, Mathi. Outside of the bedroom, anyway.”
“He knows you well enough to hear your resonance on the earth and unerringly lead me to you, and trust me when I say my finest bit of work that day was convincing him your aunt’s body needed to be returned to Liadon’s cave and Borrhás.”
My eyebrows shot upward. “He threatened toburyher?”
“Her, her people, the building, everything. The man wasnothappy.”
And wasn’t my stupid little heart happy to hearthatlittle tidbit.
Henrick opened the rear passenger door as we approached. I nodded my thanks, then scooted across to save him from having to run around the car for Mathi. As we drove off, Mathi made the call to his friend; said friend did not refuse the commission.
In very little time, we were crossing over the river and heading into the genteel area that was Handbridge. I’d thought we’d be going to one of the many grand old manors that littered this area, but instead we stopped at a simple, end-of-terrace, red-brick cottage a stone’s throw away from the river with the park at its back.
Just as we stopped, the storm finally unleashed. I clambered out of the car before Henrick could run around and open the door for me, then hastily zipped up my coat and tugged on my hood. The rain was fierce enough that it still felt like hail through the coat’s thick padding. But it wasn’t the rain or the storm itself that had goose bumps skipping across my skin. It was the odd note in the air. Music that was distant and jarring. Or maybe the problem was me; maybe my ears weren’t quite attuned to the music that played within the wind.
Why it felt like that, or where it was originating from, I couldn’t yet say.
I fell in step beside Mathi, my hands in my pockets and my gaze searching the buildings around us for the source of the wind song. But she was swirling about recklessly, tugging at hair and clothes with abandon, making any sort of seeking nigh on impossible.
Well, at least impossible on the fly for someone like me. I dared say I could do it given time to frame the question and a safe spot to do it in.
The officer guarding the tape blocking the street was the same poor soul who’d gotten the task yesterday, and he lookedutterly miserable, but he nevertheless greeted us with a pleasant nod and lifted the tape so we could go under.
“Is the commander inside?” Mathi asked.
“Indeed, sir,” he replied.
Mathi nodded, and we moved on briskly, but as we neared the front door, the knives burned to life, their heat once again echoing in the Eye.
In that same instant, the odd, scratchy music riding the wind disappeared. I stopped abruptly, my gaze searching the area.
“What?” Mathi immediately said.
“The thief is still here. Not in the house, but close.”
“Our man definitely likes flirting with danger, doesn’t he?”
“Either that, or he’s waiting or watching for something.”
Someone, instinct whispered.
“I’ll inform my father?—”
“You inform; I’ll walk on and see if I can find anything.”
He hesitated. “Fine, but promise you won’t go far. I don’t want to be rescuing you again.”
“I promise. And don’t worry, I have my knives and can call down the lightning if anything untoward happens.”
“You had both those options the last time you were kidnapped, and neither did anything to help. So please, be careful.”
