‘My charm works on everyone. But he won’t let us in willingly,’ Callum said. ‘He hates the Wake.’
‘Good. That means he’ll be more likely to help us.’
‘He’s the first place the Wake might look.’
‘Which is exactly why we should get there quickly.’
The clock was ticking now. Logan was already off after the Druid, which meant Kyan needed to get to Nicole as fast as possible. To warn her, toseeher. Then beat Logan to the last remaining link to his people and their magic.
And then what?
Then, he had no fucking idea.
Then, you expose yourself to the Wake if you don’t hunt your mate.
Or you bring her in, and try to bargain for your lives.
‘One thing’s for sure,’ Callum said. ‘The Wake want Nicole. But the question is, are you going to get her for them?’
‘I suppose we’ll find out,’ Kyan said. ‘Cause I’ve taken the mission.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nicole
A FINE LAYER OF MARBLE DUST PAINTEDNICOLE’S BARE FEETas she stood staring up at the broken window in the studio of Burghley House. It sparkled dangerously with morning light, sun beaming in over the mess of rubble below.
Her father passed her a steaming mug of coffee.
Evidently, the Ban-Sìth’s scream hadn’t just destroyed the studio and knocked out Elisabetta.
‘I’ll have to apologise again to Verin,’ she said, relishing the hot porcelain against her fingers.
Her father huffed a quiet laugh. ‘Don’t worry. He’s a patron of craftsmen and artists, has restorers on speed dial and I’ve offered to help pay, which he already refused.’
Nicole nodded distantly, but it wasn’t just the destruction of historic artworks and glass that twisted her stomach.
‘I should have tried to resist killing her,’ Nicole said. She knew it was impossible, not with the potency of the kill scent. But, ‘She was hurting, she—’
‘She wanted you dead, Nikki,’ her father said firmly. ‘Whatever her motive for tracking you down, she planned to resolve that with murder, just as the Baobhan Sìth had.’
Nicole shook her head. ‘I just didn’t think creatures would come forme. They’re supposed to be out there, hunting innocent people, and I’m supposed to huntthem. Stop them before they can do anything. It’s supposed to be—’
‘Simple,’ her father said.
Nicole’s chest sank with an exhale. ‘Yes.’ She took a hot sip to swallow the knot in her throat.
Her father sighed. ‘Sweetheart, sometimes we have to do things that make us question ourselves, so we can be absolutely certain of who we are, and what we stand for.’
She glanced at him, at the familiar planes of his face; the features Bells and Dylan shared, like they’d been sketched in his image. After everything that had happened recently, she couldn’t keep the tension inside any longer. She’d put the questions aside to try and focus on the rest of this quest, but now they had Elisabetta, she needed to know.
‘Dad, we need to talk about what happened in Estwood. About what you did in the woods—’
A throat cleared across the hall, and Nicole twisted to see Verin. ‘As much as I hate to intrude on a father–daughter moment,’ the Vampire said, ‘you asked me to come and get you the moment Elisabetta was ready.’
According to Nicole’s research, Elisabetta Sirani had been born in 1638, which meant she was some kind of supernatural. But Nicole couldn’t figure out what.
Her mother’s notes had made no mention, and the painter gave off no overwhelming signs. She wasn’t drenched in the loamy perfume of a Nymph, nor the earthy scent of a Golem. She didn’tfeelparticularly supernatural either, other than emanating calm and an agelessness that felt like history itself. Thankfully, there was no subtle sense of danger.
