‘How do we get it off the little thing?’ Bells asked as Remi’s song finished.
The creature shook itself, as if waking from a slumber.
Nicole stilled and Kyan moved closer as the Tène swung its tiny head around, as if searching for its treasure.
‘Oh, no,’ Bells crooned. ‘Are you okay?’
The little beast blinked up at her with jet eyes and its heavily ornate body – the scales like La Tène swirls – shuddered.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Nicole breathed.
‘What did they do to it?’ Bells cried. ‘It looks hurt. Look at its little leg, it’s limping!’
‘Be careful,’ Kyan said, reaching for her as she went to touch the glass.
‘Why is it so small?’ Bells asked.
‘It’s lost its treasure,’ Kyan said. ‘When they do, they lose almost all of their true power until they find a new treasure or are returned to a forge.’
The Tène dived, making all of them move at once.
Instead of slamming into the glass or shattering it, the mystical creature jumped rightthrough, like nothing more than a wall of air separated them.
Nicole grabbed Bells to put herself in front of her as Kyan moved. He spun, arms around them both, back to the case and chest to Nicole’s face.
But there was no incendiary heat, no grunt of pain from Kyan, despite throwing himself in front of her and her sister. Nicole’s ears rang with the wild drum of his heart. She looked up as Kyan unfolded himself, and a metallic clink sounded on the floor.
‘Are you hurt?’ Nicole demanded, pulling them away from the case to check him and Bells, then glare at the untouched case.
The little beast was gone.
‘Where is it?’ Nicole asked, spinning to check on Bells.
‘I think she’s okay,’ Kyan said, as Bells raised her wrist.
The creature had dived to her sister’s outstretched hand.
Now, it coiled around Bells’ wrist like a bracelet, elongating its body and biting into its tail, securing itself to her in an unbreakable hold.
Kyan bent and picked up the gold calling card the Tène had dropped. ‘Looks like it’s found its new treasure,’ he said. ‘And left us this.’
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Dylan
‘YOU’RE JOKING,’DYLAN SAID UNDER HISBREATH AS THEYwalked into the Long Room in Trinity College Library.
Nicole would have loved this place. It was every dark academia lover’s dream: a double-storeyed library in rich dark oak with a great barrelled ceiling. It arched over rows of books on both sides, giving the illusion that it tunnelled on endlessly. Marble busts lined the lengthy space, and the books had been cordoned off to visitors with emerald ropes.
Down the crowded room, the Brian Boru Harp was displayed in a glass box, and surrounded by tourists.
All taking pictures.
Remi laughed softly, desperately. ‘Okay,’ she said, looking around, her tone trying to be optimistic. ‘Okay.’
Dylan grimaced, his face smarting. His cheekbone still pulsed with heat, the skin still mildly bruised, though his nose was all right. He was healing fast, the bone no longer splintered, but he was still rattled. Despite all the training he’d done with Nicole and their father – even a few humans in a class once at the gym – he’d never fought anyone else. Never had immortal strength used on him. The spark of panic and helplessness reminded him too much of the night of his mother’s murder.
He breathed, grounding himself with the scents of old paper and leather. Must, and polish. Human perfumes and odours reached him, with a few threads of supernatural scent, but none matched theassassin from the alley. Not here, where their huge frame would be easily visible above the sea of tourists.
