Page 261 of She Walks with Broken Things

Nyssa.

Immediate.

Absolute.

I looked at her. She looked straight back.

I nodded. “Agreed.”

Something softened in her face. Barely. Then she returned her attention to Bethany.

The doctor continued. “She’s exhausted. Dehydrated. There are some superficial scrapes and bruises. Vivienne should have plenty of salve for those. But there’s nothing I’d consider medically alarming right now.”

I stared at Bethany.

That’s was the problem.

She should’ve looked worse.

I understood blood. Broken bones. Knife wounds. Bullet wounds. Give me damage and I could measure it. Give me a weapon and I could trace it. Give me a wound and eventually I’d find the hand that made it. Bethany sat five feet away looking almost untouched. And whatever had happened to her had destroyed something I couldn’t fucking see.

I walked away and London followed.

Of course he did.

We stopped near the back of the house. Far enough that the women couldn’t hear us.

“You know who did this,” he said.

Not a question.

“Yes, and so do you.”

“Killian?”

My jaw tightened. His blood flashed through my mind. The opened throat. The silence. A man turned into evidence before I even understood what question I was supposed to be damn well asking.

“Dead.”