He braces his elbows on his thighs again and holds my glare with an unblinking stare of his own. “I know how to heal you.”
That stops my snark. Carl and Griffith tense, both of them on high alert for the answer.
“So you say.” I cross my arms. “Go on. How?”
Luke leans back against the concrete wall, mirroring my posture but dropping his eyes back to his ring. “I want to speak to someone first.”
Griffith moves past me, stalking forward, gripping the bars, and rattling them. “You’re negotiating with her life?” he snarls. “Open the door, Carl. I’ll get the answer out of him.”
“Fangworn!” Juan barks at my wolf, power in his voice even though I’ve learned he’s the beta, not the alpha of Griffith’s pack. “Back off. You’re not helping.”
“I’m not going to deny Clementine the cure.” Luke gives every indication of being calm, even with a furious werewolf snarling at him. “I befriended her so I could find this town. There’s someone here I know. I need to speak with them.”
“And by speak, you mean kill?” Carl clarifies, my brother leveling his own furious glare at the man holding my fate in his untrustworthy hands.
Now Luke scowls. “I would never hurt them. I would die to keep them safe.”
The room goes quiet at that proclamation. I don’t know what to think of his claims. Is this a clever ruse? Or is Luke some kind of hunter who doesn’t actually hunt?
I’m more inclined to believe the former, if only to err on the side of safety. The stabbing pain in my side seconds my caution.
“Quite the level of devotion.” Moira steps forward, and her mate, Levi, shadows her approach, as if worried Luke will be able to attack her, even with iron between them. “Not what one would expect from a hunter.”
Luke shrugs. “I’ll stay in the cage while speaking to them if that’s what you prefer.”
Carl shifts to face the room, taking in everyone, but most of his focus remains on Luke. “You heal my sister, and we will tellthis mythic you are here, contained, and want to speak to them. But it is their decision whether or not to talk to you. Deal?”
No expression shows on Luke’s face. He remains stoic, hiding whatever thoughts play in his mind. “You also tell them I will swear any blood vow they ask of me, then yes. We have a deal.”
“Sounds like you plan to make a deal without The Council’s approval,” Selena says, but I can’t quite tell if the witch has a problem with my brother’s proactiveness.
“This will need to be discussed,” Juan adds, and I wonder if my current witch bandage will last the length of their debate.
Still, I don’t exactly like the idea that this mysterious townsperson will be pressured into speaking to a hunter, so I keep any potential argument to myself. But before anyone else can voice a protest, Griffith pulls out a knife. I half expect him to try plunging it into Luke’s eye, but instead, the wolf opens a gash on his palm.
“I swear I will pass your message on to the mythic you’re searching for if you tell us how to heal Clem. Now.”
My reaction time is too slow to keep the binding promise from happening. Luke lunges to his feet, reaches his hand through the bars, and allows Griffith to cut his palm. They clasp hands. A snap of power leaves a static-like sensation in the air.
“Damn it, Griff!” Carl retrieves the knife. “You stole my move.”
The wolf shrugs and offers a tight smile in the face of my and The Council’s fury. Will he be punished for this? How does The Council even punish people?
“I assume you have the dagger you confiscated from me.” Luke speaks to my brother. Carl nods. “That was the weapon used to injure Clementine. The cure is in the handle. You just need to find a mythic strong enough to wield a god object.”
The police station goes quiet at this revelation. I reel, knowing that we have a cure, but might not be able to use itwithout someone draining their life force like the hunter who originally cut me did.
Is there anyone I would take the risk with? Potentially trade my life for theirs?
Levi sighs. “I know someone who can.”
He doesn’t say a name, but my mind goes to the handsome, lonely monster with an undeniable air of power. The one who called Levi when he fished me out of the lake. While I imagine that Sev is magically capable, I have my doubts about his willingness to help despite saving me in the past.
“He can’t be trusted,” Georgiana snaps. The representative for the winged mythics vibrates with unmasked fury at the idea of approaching Sev for help, and I wonder if the two have some kind of history. “He shouldn’t even be allowed to live in this town.”
“If he truly wanted to harm anyone in Folk Haven, he would have already.” Levi doesn’t back down from his assertion. “I agree that he’s not exactly stable. But he’s relatively passive. One more god object isn’t going to send him on a rampage.”
Another stunned silence, and then Georgiana whispers, “Onemore?”
