As if Sabelle knows I’m about to lose it, she turns to me with a warning. “Isn’t he lovely?” When I grit my teeth, she elbows me. “Isn’t he?”
I’m loath to agree, but we need this car. And I don’t want Sabelle furious with me. With a bob of my head, I grunt.
Sabelle forces another smile, then pins me with an annoyed glare the second James turns away, looking euphoric and happily confused.
Sabelle whirls on me with a furious huff. “Were you trying to strand us here?”
I glare back, brow raised. “Were you trying to throw him in my face?”
“Of course not.” She sighs. “Let’s get out of this village. Did you reach Duke?”
With a grumble, I let it go. “No answer. I left a vague voicemail.”
Concern darkens Sabelle’s face as we approach the car. “What do you think that means?”
“Like us, he may not have had his phone with him when Mathias attacked.” But I’m also aware the reality could be far more violent…and far grimmer.
“He did, on his belt.” She bites her lip. “Do you think they were captured? Killed?”
The possibility terrifies her. I feel her fear. I don’t mention that possibility crossed my mind at least a dozen times. She doesn’t need to worry. I’ll shoulder that for her. “They’re able to teleport, which is a huge advantage. We’re still alive, so it’s likely Duke and the others are, too.”
“I hope you’re right.” She sighs. “But if we encounter Mathias, how will you and I fight him on our own?”
We can’t. But I don’t say that to her. I’ve tried, after all—and took down nearly a hundred Anarki by myself. Granted, that was two hundred years ago, when I was much rasher and far more hot-headed. I was lucky to escape with my life. And I learned a valuable lesson: Mathias’s army is like an octopus, an evil that can reach in all directions to snuff out anyone unprepared.
Which is why I can’t make a bloody big deal about this car. Escape. Regroup. Then hunt down Anarki and lop off as many arms of the monster as possible. That should be uppermost in my mind. Claiming the woman? Foolish and ill-timed. She’ll never say yes, and I shouldn’t expect her to in the midst of a crisis.
“Let’s retrieve Bram and get on the road,” I suggest.
Sabelle nods. “Did you get food?”
Indeed. But as I look down, I’m suddenly aware that, since I found Sabelle with James, I’ve squeezed the paper bag of pastries in my fist. Now, I feel the crushed pastries.
Wincing, I open the bag to find everything inside pulverized, ground down into crumbs by my jealous rage.
With a curse, I toss the destroyed remains into the nearest bin.
“Sorry. We’ll grab something else in the next town,” I mutter, flexing my fingers to release the tension still coiled in every muscle. Her little grin intensifies the gnawing hunger in me that has nothing to do with food—and everything to do with claiming her for good.
Chapter
Sixteen
Sabelle
* * *
Around midday, Ice and I arrive at the outskirts of Ludlow. Thomas MacKinnett lives in a renovated nineteenth-century estate about five kilometers from Stokesay Castle. The golden sun burns through the haze to shine in a perfect blue sky. Everything here is lovely in a stark, December sort of way, yet my skin prickles with unease. The air feels disturbed. Even without seeing the house, I sense something is wrong.
“It’s quiet out here.” Ice frowns. The farther up the winding dirt road I drive, the more his frown deepens.
Too quiet. Ice may not have said it, but he’s likely thinking it. “Indeed.”
“MacKinnett had no children other than Auropha?”
“No. And his mate died over a decade ago. Other than servants, he lives alone.”
“Perhaps that’s the reason the estate is so quiet.”
