“Ronan. Darius.” Deirdre emerged from the kitchen, her presence stopping me from putting Ronan into a wall. “Why don’t you redirect some of that toxic male aggression and help me with the coffee.” She made her way around the room with a tray of steaming mugs, handing out coffee to the witches, some of whom had curled up together on the couch and chairs, others in smaller huddles on the floor. As exhausted as they must’ve been, no one had dared nod off. Not while Gray was unaccounted for and Emilio’s fate still unknown.
“And if you can’t make yourselves useful,” the old woman continued, “at least make yourselves quiet. The last thing Gray needs is to come back and referee a pissing contest between—”
“You’re something else, you know that?” Ronan shook his head, a look of utter disgust twisting his features.
“Ronan,” she said, her eyes imploring him, “we will discuss our personal differences another time.”
“Differences?” he snarled. “Differences?”
I felt the spike in his aggression mere seconds before his eyes turned demon black.
“So,” he continued, “do you want to tell them about thesedifferences, or should I?”
Deirdre visibly stiffened, but her eyes blazed with a new warning. “Now isnotthe time.”
“You’re right, witch. Twenty years ago was the time, but you failed. You made a bad call then, and every day you keep your secrets, you’re making it a hell of a lot worse. For Gray, for yourself, and for everyone else.”
“I had my reasons,” she said. “As did you.”
“Yeah? Why don’t you come over here and remind me of them.”
“Careful, demon. I’m not as old and docile as I look.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said, moving to stand between them. As much as I would’ve loved to see a brawl between a powerful old witch and a crossroads demon with an ax to grind, Deirdre was right. Now wasnotthe time.
Fortunately, I was spared from having to intercede further by the opening of the front door and the sudden and rather grim entrance of the fae prince. His face was red with cold, his eyes full of something that looked a lot like fear. Real fear.
“I’ve finally made contact with my sister,” he announced.
“Kallayna?” One of the witches on the couch asked. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s… a long story,” Jael said. “But the short version is that she’s infiltrated the Darkwinter contingent in Blackmoon Bay under guise of a romantic relationship with one of their knights, and has been transmitting intelligence through a secured fae channel ever since. I hadn’t heard from her in some time, but she finally managed to get a message out tonight, and the news isn’t good.”
Deirdre handed him a mug of coffee, which he accepted with a small bow. After taking a few sips, he pulled one of the dining chairs into the living room and took a seat.
“After the surprise attack and ensuing defeat in Raven’s Cape tonight,” he said, “Orendiel and the remaining Darkwinter Knights, along with the hunters still loyal to the cause, retreated to Blackmoon Bay to regroup.”
“We figured that might happen,” Ronan said, the argument with Deirdre seemingly forgotten in the presence of a far greater foe. “As far as we know, the Bay is still under their control.”
“Yes,” Jael confirmed. “But I fear the situation back home has taken a turn for the worse.”
“How can that be?” I asked. “They’ve just suffered massive casualties and the loss of their most valuable prisoners. They retreated, presumably to lick their wounds.”
Jael shook his head. “Apparently they’ve called in reinforcements. According to what Kallayna was able to uncover, two hundred additional knights have been dispatched to the Bay, and that’s not counting the hundred or so already in place.”
“Another two hundred?” Ronan let loose a heavy sigh. “We saw what they could do with less than half that number at the warehouse. It took all of us working together, with powerful magic and the element of complete surprise, just to survive the night. And not all—”
He cut off abruptly, but I knew what he’d been thinking.
And not all of ushadsurvived.
I glanced down the hallway, hoping for a sign from Gray, but there was only Asher and the hounds, as still as marble statues. Asher’s eyes were alert as he listened to our conversation out here, but he wasn’t moving from his post for anything.
“There’s more,” Jael said, his face going a shade paler. “The Bay has been locked in a brutal winter storm for several days. White-out conditions, heavy accumulation, frigid temperatures.”
“What?” Ronan asked. “But we never get weather like that. I can’t even remember the last time it snowed there.”
“Precisely,” Jael said. “Kallayna believes the weather was conjured by Darkwinter. She hasn’t found proof, but the timing and nature of the storm is too suspicious to be anything natural.”
