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“But Mr. Porter isn’t. And if I’m not mistaken he wore a pearl of unusual size and quality in his neckcloth today. I arranged to meet him tonight. Mayhap it will take him only one lifetime to pay me back.” He flashed a dangerous smile. “That is if I allow him to live it out.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, her face shining with suppressed amusement. “Would you really kill him for this?”
He remembered Porter’s greasy repulsiveness. The man had the personality of a snake. Conor’s fingers itched to be around his throat. To tie him in knots. “For theft, dealing in stolen goods, lechery, and just for being a complete ass, I’d be more than willing to kill him.”
She laughed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Chapter Six
Ellery looked around her parlor with a grimace. Had it been only twenty-four hours since she’d sat in this very spot and wished for companionship, a friend during the long, dark hours? She gave a dry laugh. Well, this was a warning to be careful what you wished for.
An open valise sat upon her sofa. Her few pitiful gowns lay in piles on various pieces of furniture in readiness for sorting. Even with Conor’s help, she only had three days to be gone from here.
She glanced up. The damp had become fog. It shrouded the cottage, muffling sounds, gathering like cloud at the edges of the lighted windows. Conor had left, assuring her he’d be back as soon as he could and with his pound of flesh—or Mr. Porter’s, he’d added with a wicked glow in his eyes. Would he return to tell her that her landlord had relented? With what she knew so far of Conor Bligh, it was more likely he’d come back to tell her Mr. Porter had taken an unfortunate fall off the cliffs below the village.
She tried not to give voice to the needling thought at the back of her mind that asked would he even come back at all? Now that he had his reliquary, why bother? He could take it and be gone before those horrible creatures returned. She folded a pair of stockings.
That was what she wanted. She folded a chemise. With the reliquary gone and Conor Bligh with it, it stood to reason the unearthly hounds would follow him. She folded a gown.
Didn’t it?
Looking down, she gasped with dismay. The clothes were a jumbled mess of wrinkled wool and muslin. So much for packing.
A low howl sounded from beyond the fog. Somewhere near Keigwin Tor.
Ellery’s blood froze in her veins. She couldn’t breathe. The quiet catch of the door threw her to her feet. She took swift inventory of the room, snatching up a heavy candle stand, brandishing it like a spear. “Show yourself. If you dare.”
Conor stepped into the parlor doorway, running a hand over hair silvered with fog. He eyed her makeshift weapon. “Crude but effective.”
“You’ve gotten rid of all my proper weapons.” He reached out, taking the stand away from her and putting it down. “And for good reason. Had that been your pistol, I’d have another hole in my ribs.” He touched his side. “I heal, but the power isn’t unlimited. Enough wounds, and I’m as dead as the next man.”
She appreciated Conor’s attempt at humor, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Too much was happening too quickly. She sank into a chair, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “I heard them again. Now that I know what they are, I feel the difference when they’re near. It’s a bitter taste in my mouth, a pain in my lungs as if I can’t breathe the same air.”
Conor raised a brow, but didn’t comment. Instead he said, “They search for the reliquary. Their master desires it beyond all things. He’d do anything to have it within his possession.”
“Will they come here?”
She wanted to flee the cottage, run until she could no longer feel the relentless pursuit of the Keun Marow. But another part of her wanted to stay and challenge them. How dare these creatures think she was easy prey for their sport? She’d grown up with war. She knew how to fight.
Conor seemed to suffer under the same restlessness. He moved like a caged animal, stalking the corners of the room. “We’re safe enough. I’ve strengthened my defensive wards, hiding my presence without alerting them to my magic. I also laid a false trail away from Carnebwen. That’s what detained me. I needed to make it traceable without being obvious.”
“Why do they want the reliquary?”
He paused at the window, closing the curtains against the night. “Asher wants it. They do his bidding.”
Ellery felt as if she were drawing teeth. Every question answered only brought ten more to her mind. “And who is Asher, or is that one of those things you don’t know or can’t tell me?”
His expression was one of uncertainty. “Take a chance I might believe you. It’s the least you can do after having
me thrown out of my house.”
Her stab at amusement fell as flat as his had earlier. Instead, he approached the hearth and the dull fire lit against the damp chill. He clutched the mantel with both hands, his head bowed as he watched the flames. “Asher is one of three brothers, demons of the faery realm. Sons of the witch, Carman. They sought dominion over the fey once before, but were defeated and imprisoned. Now they seek to return.”
Finally some answers. Not exactly ones that made sense by any normal standard, but she had left normal far behind. “And the reliquary?”
“The Triad were imprisoned within the reliquary. Bound to it for all time. It was hidden away to guard against their release.”
Ellery didn’t like where this was going. “But someone opened it.”
