“No.” Dabbler reached out to grab at Basq’s wrist, his legs kicking in a futile effort to escape. “There’s a way.”
There was an edge of terrified sincerity in his voice. As if he was certain that he had an answer, even if he didn’t want to share it.
“Talk fast,” Basq warned.
“Kgosi.”
“Kgosi?” Chaaya abruptly moved to stand next to Basq. “What the hell is a Kgosi?”
Chapter 13
Brigette squatted on the ledge of the tower, scanning the city below. From her vantage point she could easily keep watch on the narrow streets while avoiding any unwanted attention.
“I was right, was I not?” Levet inquired. The tiny demon was perched next to her, loudly munching on a roasted chicken he’d managed to grab after she’d knocked out a goblin guarding the back door of a pub. She’d finished her own meal in less than two seconds. She was burning through energy at an alarming rate. “This is a much better location to hide.”
She sent him a fierce glare. “I’m not hiding.”
He furrowed his brow. “Then what are we doing?”
“Waiting.”
“Ah.” Levet swallowed the remainder of his chicken in one gulp before noisily licking his fingers. “You must admit that it smells nicer up here. Plus we can see the stars.”
Brigette stared at her companion in bafflement. She’d never encountered another creature like him. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d kidnapped him and hauled him to this weird-ass place. Or that they were leashed together by a magic neither of them understood. He was irrationally good-humored. As if nothing could possibly rattle him.
Brigette didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed.
“You are…” Words failed her.
Levet flashed a winsome smile. “Oui, I know. A charming companion and a ravishingly attractive knight in shining armor. Females find me quite irresistible.”
She paused before asking the question that had been teasing at the back of her mind since they’d been sucked through the portal.
“You said you knew what it was like to want to be a part of a family, but always alone.” She tried to sound bored. As if she was simply passing the time.
“Ah, indeed, mine is a tragic tale,” Levet agreed, pressing a hand to the center of his chest. “Like all proper heroes.”
“Did your family die?”
The fairy wings fluttered, as if confused by her question. “Non. They are all alive and residing in Paris.” Levet tapped a claw against his chin. “Well, all of them except for my aunt Bertha. She is like me, a wandering soul who never stays in one place too long.” Tap, tap, tap. “I think it is because she once fell asleep in the Swiss Alps and woke centuries later to discover she was encased in a glacier. It took me months to chisel her out. Since then she never sleeps in the same place for more than a few days.”
“Then why aren’t you close to them?”
“My mother tried to kill me when I first hatched.”
Brigette stared at the gargoyle. Was he being serious? “She tried to kill you?”
“Oui.”
“Why?”
He wrinkled his tiny snout. “She did not appreciate my uniqueness. Like most gargoyles, she has a depressing lack of imagination and a habit of smooshing things she does not understand.”
There was no bitterness in his voice. Just a blithe acceptance that his mother intended to smoosh him for being different.
It made her resentment toward her family seem even more shallow. “How did you survive?”
“I was small enough to hide in cracks in the walls of our lair,” he told her. “Eventually she grew tired of attempting to catch me.”
“That’s awful.”
“That was not so bad. It became a game of sorts, and it kept me from becoming bored. There is nothing quite as refreshing as darting around a room while being chased by a gargoyle the size of a freight train.” Without warning his wings drooped. “I will admit, however, my heart was broken the night I was driven out of Paris.”
There was something weird niggling in the center of her heart. Sympathy? No. that couldn’t be right. She was an evil bitch who tried to destroy the world, right?
She didn’t get all soppy over a stunted lump of granite.
Brigette cleared her throat. “Do you hate them?”
“Non.”
“But…” She shook her head in disbelief. “They tried to kill you.”
“All families are complicated.”
“Complicated, not homicidal.”
“I suppose that is true.” He reached up to rub one stunted horn, as if considering his relationship with the mother who’d tried to end his life and then forced him to flee. “Still, if they had not driven me from my home, I would never have enjoyed the wonderous adventures that have been enormous fun. Nor would I have become a knight in shining armor and saved the world. More than once.” He shuddered. “I would be stuck in the Guild castle, scabbing with my brothers.”
“Scabbing?” Brigette had a crazed thought that he might be referring to some creepy gargoyle game. Then she rolled her eyes. “You mean squabbling?”
He waved aside her question. “And watching the moss grow on my very fine derrière.”
With a shake of her head, Brigette leaned forward, staring down at the cobblestone street below her.
“If you could change the past, would you?”
Levet made a sound of surprise. “Certainly not. My past has molded me into the extraordinary creature that I have become. And as a bonus, there is not a smidge of moss on my derrière.” He glanced over his shoulder in sudden concern. “Is there?”
About to inform him that she wasn’t going to check his ass for lichen, Brigette abruptly shoved herself backward. Doing a flip, she landed in a crouched position, peering over the ledge of the tower at the vampire and slender female dressed in black strolling down the sidewalk directly beneath them.
“Shh,” she hissed. “It’s Chaaya.”
“Really?” Levet rose to his feet, his wings quivering with excitement. “We should say hello. I do not like that bad-tempered leech, but Chaaya is always fun. She is my sister from another mustard.”
“Mister,” Brigette corrected before she could help herself.
“Oui, mister. Bonjour—”
“Stop, you idiot.” She yanked on the leash connecting them, tugging him off the ledge. “She wants to kill me.”
Levet looked confused before he widened his gray eyes. “Oh, I forgot.”
“How could you…” Brigette shook her head in defeat. “Never mind.” She returned her attention to the female, who had halted on the corner. The leech was standing beside her, along with another male who was wearing a long, gauzy robe that looked like a woman’s nightgown. He had the floppy ears of a brownie but the features of a human. “I wonder what they’re doing?”
Her question was answered when the man in the nightgown raised his hand and waved it in front of an empty alley. Suddenly a shimmer of light appeared, growing large enough for the vampire to step through, quickly followed by Chaaya and the unknown male.
“A secret entrance,” Levet breathed beside her, obviously enchanted by the sight. “We should investigate.”
She gave the leash a sharp tug as he spread his wings and prepared to follow them. “Are you out of your mind?”
Levet scowled, then a cunning smile curved his lips. “What if they are going to meet with a demon who can open a portal?” Levet asked, obviously trying to tempt her into entering the hidden passage. “Do you not wish to escape so you can resume your hunt for the mystery voice?”
Brigette grabbed the ledge in a white-knuckled grip, caught between the fear of being lured into a trap and the knowledge that she couldn’t wait in this dreary gray place forever. Not only was her connection to the voice b
locked, but her strength was fading.
“You’re right,” she reluctantly conceded, sending the gargoyle a warning frown. “We’re going to follow them. But if you give one hint you’re about to betray me, I’ll—”
“Oui, oui. You will eat me.” Levet hopped onto the ledge and motioned for her to join him.
Brigette straightened. “This is such a bad idea.”
* * * *
Troy strolled into the barracks next to the dungeons that were reserved for the guards. There were a dozen soldiers gathered in the long room. Most of them wore the unique mer-folk scaled armor with tridents holstered on their hips, as if they were just coming off duty or preparing to relieve another guard. A few were seated around a table playing cards, others dozed in the shell-shaped chairs, and a couple stood in the back throwing small daggers at a target carved in the shape of an orc.
The scent of salt was thick in the air, along with a hefty undertone of suspicion as the mer-folk turned their heads to study Troy. There had always been some wariness, but this was intense. As if someone had deliberately poisoned them against him.
It didn’t take a genius to guess who might be responsible.
Jord.
Pretending indifference, Troy wandered toward a male who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He had a sash around the hilt of his trident, a symbol that he was more than just another soldier, he was the officer in charge.
The male narrowed his blue eyes as Troy halted in front of him. “Are you looking for someone?”
“Riza,” Troy revealed.
The male shrugged, his hostility barely concealed. “I haven’t seen him.”
Mmm. Troy arched a brow. Was the soldier prejudiced by Jord? Or was it something else? Maybe he just didn’t like him.
He wouldn’t be the first.
Or the last.
“What about Koral and Lusca?” he asked, referring to the two guards who’d been on duty in the outer chamber of the dungeons.
The officer cast a covert glance toward the male and female who were playing darts at the back of the room before he parted his lips to deny having seen them.
Troy walked away, in no mood to soothe the male’s prickly resentment. Later he would discover exactly what Jord had said to ensure the guards wouldn’t cooperate with his investigation.
He sauntered past the crowd gathered around the card table, resisting the urge to send them a finger wave or maybe blow them a kiss. He was powerful—far more powerful than anyone in the mer-folk castle could possibly imagine—but he wasn’t capable of defeating a dozen armed warriors.
Besides, he wasn’t there for shits and grins. After his conversation with Jord, he’d read through the reports offered by Riza, and then by Lusca and Koral. Not one of them had matched the others.
So who was lying?
Or were all of them lying?
He intended to find out.
Reaching the pair at the back, he glanced toward the target. “Is this a private game or can anyone join in?”
The male—Troy assumed he was Lusca—scowled, as if to make double sure Troy realized he wasn’t welcome.
“What do you want?”
“Answers.”
The male gave a toss of his head, his long, golden hair tinted with blue rippling down his back.
“What sort of answers?”
Troy smiled wryly. He’d perfected the hair flip. This male was an amateur. “About Brigette’s escape,” he said.
The female, Koral, tossed a small dagger from hand to hand. Her face was thinner and her teeth chiseled to narrow points. Troy sensed she was the more dangerous of the two.
“We already gave our report to Rimm.”
Troy spread his fingers, offering a smile of faux regret. “I’m sorry, but there are few details I want to clear up.”
Lusca folded his arms over his chest. “We’re off duty.”
Troy considered his options. He couldn’t force the guards to reveal what they knew. Not unless Inga threatened them with the Tryshu, and he was trying to avoid that. The mer-folk would never respect her if she ruled with the same ruthless oppression that Riven had used.
So how…
It was the glint of the dagger’s blade as Koral flipped it over and over that gave him the perfect solution.
“How about a little wager?” he drawled.
“For money?” Lusca demanded.
“I’ll pay you one gold coin each time one of you hits closer than me to the bull’s-eye.”
Koral’s eyes glowed with a sudden anticipation. Troy suspected she was the local champion.
“And if we lose?” Lusca asked, obviously not as confident that the outcome was predetermined.
Troy shrugged. “You answer my question.”
The two guards exchanged a glance before Koral sent him a warning frown. “No cheating?”
“I can’t use magic down here, can I?” he demanded. “Is it a deal?”
“Okay.”
Koral grabbed several silver daggers from a basket and dropped them at Troy’s feet. Then, with far more care, she opened a velvet-lined case to choose three daggers with mother-of-pearl handles. They were obviously her private collection.
Lifting her hand, she released the first dagger with a snap of her wrist. It flew end over end, the silver shimmering in the light of the nearby torches. With a thud it hit the target, sinking into the porous material. It was a near-perfect throw, hitting a breath from the bull’s-eye.
Troy reached down to scoop up the daggers; then, straightening, he tossed one with nonchalant motion. It flew straight as an arrow, hitting the exact middle of the bull’s-eye.
Shocked silence. Troy rolled his eyes. Did they really think he’d propose a wager if he wasn’t sure he was going to win?
“How were you knocked out?” he asked.
Lusca reluctantly turned his attention from the target to Troy. “We were standing guard in front of the door to the dungeon.”
“Which way were you facing?”
The male paused to consider the question. Obviously no one had asked him before.
“Toward the dungeon,” he said in firm tones.
“You were hit from behind?”
Both guards nodded.
“You didn’t sense anyone approaching?” Troy pressed.
“Obviously not,” Koral snapped.
“You didn’t smell anything?” Troy demanded.
They gave another shake of their heads, their expressions resentful. They were insulted by his questions, without even recognizing why he was asking. A disturbing realization. Mer-folk weren’t the toughest or the most skilled soldiers. There was no need since they were protected behind the powerful magic that guarded their isolated lair. But even untrained fey should have been able to sense a stranger sneaking up behind them. A certain sound. A smell. A change in the temperature in the air. Something.
That meant whoever it had been was so familiar to them that he or she hadn’t set off any alarms.
“What were you hit with?”
Lusca touched the back of his head, as if recalling the painful blow. “I don’t know. Some sort of club.”
“Or a trident?” Troy suggested.
Koral released a low hiss of anger. “Jord warned us you were trying to pin the Were’s escape on one of the guards. Obviously he was right.”
Ah. So that was what the merman had been telling them. Troy held the female’s angry gaze.
“If I intended to do that, why would I be down here asking questions? I could simply make my accusations.” He shifted his glance to Lusca. “I’m here for the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. Could it have been a trident?”
The male offered a grudging nod. “Yes.”
Koral clicked her tongue, as if angered that Troy had made
them admit their attacker might have been one of their own.
“I’m not answering any more questions until we throw again.”
Troy waved a hand toward the target. She grabbed a dagger and positioned it in her fingers, taking several seconds to adjust her aim before throwing it toward the target. It twirled end over end, hitting next to his dagger in the bull’s-eye. Troy threw his own, hitting just outside the circle. With a shrug, he reached into a hidden pocket in his tight pants and pulled out a slender gold coin. Casually he tossed it toward the female.
She grabbed the money, eying him with suspicion. Did she realize he’d deliberately allowed her to win? Probably. She wasn’t stupid.
Taking another dagger from the case, she tossed it toward the target. This time she missed by a sliver. Troy barely waited for her dagger to reach the target before he took his turn. This time it was a direct strike.
Koral gaped in disbelief, but Troy was already turning his attention toward Lusca. “How long were you out?”
“Just a couple of minutes,” the male said.
“What did—”
“You asked your question,” Koral interrupted. “Throw.”
“Fine.” Troy impatiently tossed the dagger, hitting the bull’s-eye with enough force to cause the other daggers to clatter to the stone ground.
Biting her bottom lip, Koral concentrated on the target, eventually throwing her dagger. It was good enough to hit the edge of the bull’s-eye, but not good enough to beat Troy.
“What did you do when you woke?” Troy asked Lusca.
“The dungeon door was wide open, so we went in to check on the prisoner, but she was gone.”
“What about Riza?”
Lusca lost a bit of his frosty suspicion. Was he becoming curious about the direction of Troy’s questions? Troy hoped so. He needed information.
“What about him?” the male asked.
“Was he still unconscious?”
“Oh.” Lusca glanced toward Koral as if he couldn’t remember.
“He wasn’t there,” the female said, her tone firm.
“Wasn’t he on duty inside the dungeon?” Troy asked.
“Yes.” Koral visibly shuffled through her memories. “I guess he must have woken before us.”
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