“Put the radio far enough away that we can hear Haley, but he can’t reach it without exposing himself. Haley, if you can, get your broom!”
The mist of Haley left the radio and floated up the stairs.
“What’s the endgame?” Taran asked.
Eilonwy didn’t look at her brother, instead scanning the windows to make sure Dante didn’t arrive without them knowing. “We need to kill him. If he escapes, he’ll keep murdering. If he gets fetched, he’ll tell them where we are.”
“Is this going to be our life now? Kill to keep killers from killing us?”
“I don’t want it to be, but someone has to stop this maniac, and we can’t let anyone know what we are.”
“Right. What do you want me to do?”
“Stay back a bit, seem unconcerned, don’t offer personal information, and know I’m going to lie to him. If I can, I need to get…”
The door by the stairs flew open with a bang. A rush of wind and rain announced his arrival.
Eilonwy faced him, hands by her sides, Taran behind her.
He walked in with his arms out, like a rock star showing up to his latest gig, wearing pointed shoes and a grin. He also wore a belted black leather coat, double-breasted, with strangely large sleeves that tightened at the cuffs, and dark, tight pants. He was taller than Taran but skinnier, his features handsome but edging on homely.
“I am Dante Valentine, andyouare Eilonwy Shaedewell. I am exceedingly pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said with a bow and the flourish of his arms in front of him, like a bird touching the tips of its wings together.
She was unsettled that he knew her name; she also noticed that he ignored Taran’s presence.
He straightened and placed his hands together, like saying a prayer. “How can I be of service?”
It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. Instead, she placed a polite smile on her face. “Thank you for coming, Dante. I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me.”
He returned the smile and put his hands behind his back, cocking one leg out slightly. “I live to serve beauty such as yours. Ask of me anything that would please you.”
His smarminess was challenging her patience.
“Have you been hunting in my city?”
Dante was still for a moment, then raised his chin a bit. “How is thisyourcity?” The fact that his answer was short told her he was nervous.
Eilonwy answered, “I was born here, I intend to have children here, and I know the elders of the highest coven in the region.”
He casually stepped to the left and looked around, toward the front of the store. “You know the Mavens?”
“I do.”
“You are a witch?”
“We are,” Eilonwy stated, adding Taran to the conversation.
Dante stepped to the right, then back to the stairs, and looked up them. “Was my beautiful Haley a part of this coven?”
“If she had been, we would not have lost her to your kind,” Eilonwy carefully taunted.
He looked back to her, leaning against the stairs, his arms crossed. “My kind? We are woven of the same materials,” he huffed, a faint caw sound rustling around him.
“Have I offended you?”
“Ha! You offend yourself! You ask if I have been hunting inyourcity. It is my right to take one each Samhain. If you were truly of the court, you would know.” The cawing sound grew, as though more birds had landed nearby.
“We are half of the shadows and half of the stars,” Eilonwystated. Ric had told her witches and wizards were referred to as star children in the Fae lands.
