TWENTY-THREE: MAEVE
“The fuck?” Arthur growled, touching the sword at his side. He must’ve grabbed it on his way out to see what I was yelling about. Thank God…I mean, thankAthena, Arthur was never too far from a sword.
“How did the fae get behind the wards?” Aline asked.
“It wasn’t the fae,” I whispered, my stomach clenching as understanding dawned. “It’s the villagers.”
“How do you know if you didn’t get a proper look at them?”
“They wouldn’t have come here by car if they were fae.”
“It could have been a human compelled by the fae,” Blake pointed out. “Like Robert or Dora.”
Clara shook her head. “The fae believe they’ve already won. They don’t need to skulk around the castle hoping to scare us. But angry villagers who think we’re raising the dead would do this.”
Rowan touched his finger to the message and sniffed. “This isn’t paint,” he whispered. “It’s blood.”
“A warning.” Corbin glanced around us.
“But whose blood is it?” I whispered.
I dug my phone out of my pocket, my heart beating.If they’ve got to Kelly, I’ll never forgive myself.As I dialled Jane’s number, I noticed Corbin punching something into his phone.
Jane picked up on the second ring.
“Jane. Thank Athena, you’re okay. Is Kelly there?”
Jane’s voice was stern. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“But she’s there? No one hurt her?”
Jane sighed. “Yeah, she’s here. Maeve, what happened?”
“Someone wrote on the door at Briarwood.Die witches. But it’s written in blood. I thought…” I sank against the stone wall, holding my chest as if I might be able to shove my heart back inside.
“Well, it’s not us.”
The phone clicked off.Jane hung up on me.
Rowan sank down beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, his eyes questioning.
“Kelly’s fine,” I breathed. “It’s not her.”
“I’ll have Ryan’s butler check the grounds for anything unusual,” Clara said, fishing her mobile phone out of her purse.
Rowan’s face crumpled. “What if they hurt Obelix?”
Flynn gripped his knife. “I’ll cut those wankers.”
“Obelix!” Rowan cupped his hands over his mouth. “Come here, boy!”
“Obelix, you wanker. Show yourself. Obelix?” Flynn joined in the call.
Something rustled in the flower garden under the ticket office. Rowan bent down and pushed aside the hydrangeas. “Obelix?”
The tubby cat waddled out with his nose in the air and plopped down on top of one of the beanbags. “Meorrrw?”
“Some guard cat you are,” I scolded, picking him up and rocking him in my arms. Rowan came over and tickled his belly.
