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“In the house—now,” she commanded, her alabaster hand pointed toward the cottage.
“He’s not welcome in my home,” Jaime hissed, his blue eyes dark with hatred.
“Oh, get a hold of yourself, Jaime,” Sera shouted, whirling on him. She stepped closer and pointed a finger in his chest. “If I thought for one second that Killian was a danger to Elyse, I would have killed him myself. By the goddess, stop attacking him for one damned second so we can sort this out.”
Killian exchanged tentative glances with Manny and Jaime. Sera’s commanding voice didn’t leave much room for argument, though the thought of all of them crammed together indoors felt like the last thing he wanted.
Eyes still narrowed at Killian, his chest rising and falling with each angered breath, Jaime nodded, ceding to Sera’s wishes. Hesitantly, they followed her inside, Manny a step behind Jaime to keep him in line.
Sera led them to the kitchen and ordered the men to sit at the table. She pulled up a chair beside Killian and leaned in close, inspecting his face. He was grateful that she blocked Jaime from his view. His own self-hatred was plenty at the moment, without piling on the simmering glares from Jaime.
“I should be able to heal you,” Sera murmured, and she laid both hands across his face. A mixture of heat and cooling emanated from her hands, soothing Killian’s swollen skin. After a moment, she let go of his cheeks.
“Feel better?” she asked.
Killian nodded. Physically, he felt better, but his mind was still racing, soaring through all the horrid possibilities of what the Bastards were doing to Elyse.
Sera slid her chair away from Killian and rested her forearm against the table. The sympathy was gone from her eyes, replaced by a stern focus. “Now, tell us everything,” she said calmly.
Killian glanced toward Jaime, who was still radiating fury. He didn’t blame him. Killian would have done the same—or worse—if their roles were switched.
He sighed and looked toward Manny, gathering strength from his friend. “A few weeks ago, before Prestowne, I met with Siamus. I hired Rhodan’s Bastards to find Elyse and bring her to me—alive.” Guilt rose in his throat, forming a lump that made it hard to breathe. Somehow, admitting it out loud made it feel even more despicable.
Jaime folded his arms across his chest. “Go on,” he said through gritted teeth.
“After the blood oath,” Killian continued, “I sent Siamus a letter telling him his services were no longer needed. I didn’t hear from him, and I thought that was the end of it. Then yesterday, he showed up at my mother’s house.”
Sera’s brows pulled together as concern laced her features. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” Killian breathed. “It was strange, actually. Siamus was chatting and laughing with her when I arrived. He said he wanted to discuss our deal in person, and see if there was any way he could change my mind.”
“What did you do?” Manny asked quietly.
“I told him to get the hell out and never come back.” Killian rubbed his hand on the back of his neck as he tried to discern how things had escalated. “I guess he came by to follow me, but I don’t know how. I transported back here afterward, so there’s no way he could know where I was going… Right?” He looked to Sera, pleading with her for an explanation. He prayed that somehow this wasn’t his fault, though he already knew, deep down, there was no one else to blame.
Sera bit her lip, thinking. “Did he touch you at all?” she asked hesitantly.
Killian shrugged. “He shook my hand before he left.” He tilted his head as he added, “And he clapped me on the shoulder.”
Jaime rose from his chair and cursed under his breath. He paced the kitchen, each step reverberating his anger.
“What?” Killian asked, dread growing in his stomach.
Sera gave him a sympathetic look. “He likely put a tracking spell on you,” she said quietly. “Is this the shirt you were wearing when you went home?”
Killian nodded, unable to speak. Sera rose, towering over him. He felt like a child who’d disappointed a parent as Sera looked down at him pityingly.
She hovered her hand over his shoulder, and Killian twisted his head to watch. For a moment, all he saw was the dirt caked into his shirt, the dried sweat and blood. Then, something began to shimmer in a bluish hue. It vaguely resembled the shape of a hand.
Sera sighed as Killian’s stomach clenched. “It’s a tracking spell.”
He dropped his face in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? In all his research trying to find spells to track down Elyse, he’d never come across anything like this—yet he felt like he should have known. He should have been more careful.
“Killian,” Sera breathed, placing a hand on his back. “You couldn’t have known. It’s dark magic, and incredibly rare. The spell requires a powerful warlock, and some… unseemly ingredients.” Her voice was compassionate, but it did little to soothe Killian’s regret.
He lowered his hands and looked up at her, not bothering to hide the raw guilt on his face. “What kind of ingredients?”
Sera shifted but she held his gaze. She never shied away from telling him the truth, but she waited to speak, as if needing Killian’s full consent.
