She’d told him about Mortalis’s offer to help, thinking now that the fae in question might shed some light on the issue of the missing names through his explanation of what the ring of sorrows was doing to her. What she hadn’t told him was Creek’s message from the KM. “I also have to bring the mayor’s grandchild home. If I don’t, the KM have threatened to strip the ring of sorrows gold out of me.”
Mal’s eyes silvered. “Like hell they will. Not with me around.” He squeezed her hand. “Mortalis downstairs?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go talk to him, then. See how quickly he can arrange for us to meet this fae.”
She smiled, not entirely convinced it would be that easy, but having Mal back had already halved her stress level. “It’s good to have a plan.”
So together they walked into the living room where a distraught Doc paced the floor, muttering to himself, and Velimai stood staring, shaking her head and judging him with her eyes.
“What’s going on?” Chrysabelle asked.
Both turned. Their eyes went directly to Mal. Whatever the issue plaguing them, it was forgotten.
Doc stared, as speechless as the wysper fae beside him. Mal slipped his arm around Chrysabelle’s shoulders. “Cat got your tongue?”
Velimai let out a squeal that caused Mal to cringe. “Watch it, wysper.” But he smiled. “Nice to see you, too.”
Doc rushed him, pulling him into an uncharacteristic embrace. “Damn good to see you, bro.” He released him just as quickly. “What happened? How are you still here?”
Mal gave them the rundown and another demonstration of his scattering ability.
You might have a little wysper in you, Velimai signed, laughing.
After Chrysabelle translated, Mal shook his head. “Not bloody likely.” He looked farther into the house. “Where’s Fi?”
Doc sighed. “She got pissed at me and took off.”
“Again?” Chrysabelle took a step forward. “That’s how all this mess got started.”
Doc held his hands up. “Except this time, I’m not going to look for her. I’m pretty sure we’re… done.”
Chrysabelle’s heart sank a little. “What? How can that be? You love her. And she loves you.”
“And I’m married to another woman.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Chrysabelle did. “Doc, maybe if Velimai and I—”
Mal interrupted. “Car.”
They all went silent. Then Doc shook his head. “Motorcycle. Creek’s back.”
Chrysabelle pointed toward her room. “Mal, upstairs and stay there.”
“On my way,” he said, loping toward the stairs.
She turned to Doc and Velimai. “Not a word to Creek that Mal’s still alive. Got it? He’s not to know.”
They both nodded. The engine cut off. Doc lifted his chin toward the door. “What about Mortalis?”
“He can know, but not now.”
A second later, the shadeux opened the door and came in. “Chrysabelle. Didn’t expect to see you down here. Creek’s outside, says it’s urgent he see you, but I told him you were resting. Do you want me to send him away?”
“No, I’ll talk to him. But outside.” Better to keep him out of the house and as distant from Mal as possible. She walked with Mortalis, waiting as he opened the door for her.
Instead, he paused. “You want the KM out of here at any point, just say the word. I’ll take care of it.”
She touched his leather-clad arm. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
His brows drew together above his stormy-sea eyes, but he said nothing. He opened the door and stood aside for her to go ahead of him.
Creek sat on the fountain’s edge. He looked less than happy to be back.
“What brings you here again so soon?” She sat on the far side of the fountain, forcing him to look away from the house to see her. She knew Mal well enough to know he’d be lurking on the balcony, listening to what was going on.
“Update on your brother.” Without hesitation, without the normal small talk and nice words, Creek pulled his phone from his pocket and brought it to life. He tapped the screen, then held it out to her. “An operative just sent this. It was taken less than a day ago.”
The picture didn’t register at first as anything more than a splash of colors, blond and gold, purple and red. Then the sick feeling in her stomach and the horror in her brain melded into a crystal-clear understanding of what she was seeing.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the fountain, digging in to keep from pitching forward. “Damian,” she mumbled. “I thought the KM were protecting him?”
“They are—otherwise he’d be dead.”
“And if I don’t bring back the vampire child, the KM will let Tatiana kill him.”
“I can’t say they won’t.” Creek tapped the phone again. It went black. “The Dominus ball is three nights from now. There will be a KM plane waiting for you at the private airfield we’ve used before. Hangar seven. Be on that plane in two days.”
“I don’t need the KM’s plane. And you’re not giving me much time to prepare for an undertaking of this magnitude.”
He scowled. “I’ve been trying to get you to do this for over a week. If time runs out, it’s your fault, not mine.” He picked his helmet up from between his feet and stood. “You want to use your own plane, do it. Just make sure you do it.”