Page 40 of Wicked Things

“Yes, I know,” I said, cutting him off. “You were attacked by an ogre, pretending to be my consort, and you sustained a grievous wound. I can make allowances for it.”

“A-an ogre? I was attacked by an ogre? You mean that wasn’t…?”

“No. It was an ogre, pretending to be my consort. As I said last evening, it certainly wasn’t me and it wasn’t Braden who bit your neck and sucked your blood. It was a shape shifter who paid you that visit. Like an ogre might be inclined to do. I can see how that could be unsettling and confusing to both you and your father.”

I disliked Ehlbert intensely, but he might be useful to me at some point, so I was reserving judgment. As for the “pretending to be my consort” part—that was how I’d decided to frame this to anyone who asked. For now, at least, and until I could get Braden back home. Then I could consult with the priestesses and decide on a course of action. He had displayed a little questionable behavior and I needed answers. And then there was that lingering smell of brimstone. I had to get to the bottom of all that. I’d still have to keep him though. That part appeared to be non-negotiable.

“I feel much better, by the way, sir, and thank you for asking.”

I didn’t think I had, but whatever.

“I mean, I feel well enough to go back to Gorias with you and your men, Sire, if you’ll permit it,” Tadgh said.

“You should rest a few more days here, I think. At least until we find the shapeshifter. I have an errand to run before I return anyway. Later, if you still want to come back to Goriana, I’ll allow it. I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe your visitor last night must have been the ogre from the mortal outpost.”

His eyes got wider. “What? Are you sure?”

“Fairly sure, yes. Though I have no idea why she should target you in particular. Several of us were in your father’s house last night and at the battle with the ogres yesterday. The same ones who were also at the outpost. We were all in the victims’ home weeks ago, though my men and I left before you did. Did you have any more interaction with the crime scene? Or with the cave where the ogre had been?”

“Well…actually, yes. Not at the crime scene, but at the ogre’s cave.”

“Oh? What happened there?”

He flushed a little. “I was concerned about her going through the portal and coming to Otherworld. I wanted to prevent that by trying to find her and kill her.”

“I see. What did you do, Tadgh?”

“We asked the men who’d tracked her down before to show us where the cave was. We went there before we left, and I explored it a bit with some of my men. We found evidence that the ogre had been inhabiting the cave—some campfires, a few bones from animals and some others I didn’t examine too closely. We laid a trap for her.”

I sat back and regarded him with a new appreciation. He was more tenacious than I’d given him credit for. “What kind of trap?”

“An ambush. Though we didn’t manage to catch her in it. We got a male ogre instead.”

“A male?”

“Yes. We had set up a watch outside in the woods and waited, hidden well in the trees and brush. A few hours later, near dusk, an ogre appeared, like I said, this one was an ugly bastard, big and mean looking. He’d apparently been hunting, because he had a few dead rabbits with him. We filled his body with arrows and cut off his head to make sure he was dead. We left him outside for the animals and the vultures to pick his bones. Then we waited for the rest of the night, but the female never showed up. We came home through the portal after that, and I haven’t given it much thought since.”

“You must have killed her mate. If you did, she’s been searching for you ever since. She’ll never stop. Ogres mate for life.”

Tadgh’s eyes widened dramatically. “We only finished what that bitch started.”

“Tadgh,” I said, pushing the plate in front of me away—I found I had no appetite that morning after all. “Can you tell me exactly what happened last evening when you went to bed? It…disturbs me that this ogre used my consort’s likeness and tried to impersonate him to trick you.”

“I’d be glad to tell you, sire. I was tired, as everyone was, after fighting yesterday. But I had trouble falling asleep. I kept reliving things in my mind—you know how it is.”

I nodded and he went on, seeming to warm to his subject. “I like soldiering and fighting,” he said, “and I sleep with women when they’re plentiful and sometimes men if they aren’t, or if I’m drunk and in the mood. From the first moment I saw the consort—beg your pardon, Your Grace—but I was greatly impressed by the way he looked. I wonder now if some demon wasn’t already working on my mind, because I felt almost bewitched by him.” He blushed and glanced over at me to see how I was reacting to this half-lie, half-confession. I waved my hand at him, indicating that he should go on with his story. I figured I could always kill him for lusting after what was mine later on.

“The consort is terribly handsome, but it’s more than that. It’s something about the way he moves, sire, so graceful and fluid, almost seeming to glide rather than walk. His eyes are unusual too, so warm and blue, with those thick black eyelashes.” He sighed deeply. “It’s hard to explain, Your Grace.”

“You don’t have to explain my consort to me, Tadgh. I’m well aware of his looks. Don’t bother to go on. And I mean it.”

He knew, of course, that Braden was my consort, but perhaps he still had dreams of stealing him away from me — but dreams were all they’d ever be.

Somehow that bothered me, though I knew he had no chance. I’d kill him first, for one thing. Tadgh wasn’t exactly afraid of me, but he wasn’t exactly not afraid of me either. He knew I would make a formidable enemy.

“I finally got tired enough that I closed my eyes, “ Tadgh went on. “And still I was thinking about how beautiful the consort was. I drifted off to sleep, and I was awakened by a hand on my cheek. I was startled and grabbed the knife by my side as I stared up, shocked to see the consort’s beautiful face bending over mine, only inches away. I knew the two of you were staying in a room down the hall from mine, and at first, I thought something was wrong. But his eyes—they glowed softly at me and then he-he lowered his lips to mine. I was too surprised to react in any way, so I lay still, allowing him to kiss me. To tease my lips with his tongue. His voice was musical and soft in my ear. “Beloved,” he said, “Kiss me.”

I’d never heard that mortal word in my life, and I wondered if Braden had.