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Mr. Kay called on his dart-throwing friends to help him. They stood gape-mouthed for now. Ellery prayed they remained so. At this point, she couldn’t be sure who’d win such a battle. Conor sick was bad enough. Conor dead and she may as well stake herself out and wait for Asher and his pets to come and get her.
“Move aside,” Conor ordered.
“No. You’re sick. You’re not thinking, and you’re going to get us tossed out of here.”
He advanced on Mr. Kay, dragging Ellery with him. “That bastard stole Ysbel’s ring.”
“Careful tossing that word around. I might step aside and let him have at you.” The coat fell open again, giving one and all a great look at her legs, but by this point Ellery was past caring. “Stop, you great lumpen bullock.”
Ellery was quick. No matter which way he turned, she was there. But beneath her hands, a change was taking place. His chest was broadening, if that was possible. His arms pulsed as if the muscles would burst through the skin. His eyes glowed yellow as suns in a face that was his and yet not, the angles hardening, the jawline lengthening. And, Good God. Fangs?
She jumped back as if his touch scalded. “He’s one of them,” Mr. Kay yelled. “Knew it, I did. One of them Others. A monster.” He plucked a knife from behind the long counter. “Boys, get him. Before he springs.”
“Out of my way, Ellery,” Conor growled.
“They’ll kill you.”
He flashed her a predatory smile. “Do you really think so? Move, or you’ll end up as dead as your father.”
A knot formed in her chest. Stunned, she stepped aside, the fight sucked out of her by those horrible words. But around her the chaos still swirled.
“Corner him,” the voices shouted. “Hold him there. Watch that sticker of his.”
“Hold!” a new voice shouted. The man at the corner table stood up, his round face grim.
Blood and smoke disappeared back into memory, her father’s staring eyes vanished beneath Conor’s furious glare. She held out a hand to stall the three others. “He’s fevered, and no harm to you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Conor’s animal-stare moved slowly over them. She felt like a rabbit caught in the mesmerizing gaze of the wolf.
“Enough. All of you,” the man in the corner said, and Ellery sensed the balance of power in the room shift in her favor.
Even Conor hesitated under the command. Although that might have been weakness. Already, the beast was fading back into the man. He wavered on his feet, and Ellery rushed to catch him. She braced herself against the stair railing, trying not to think of the transformation she’d just witnessed. What else about him didn’t she know?
“Bugger off, Evan,” the innkeeper said.
“I won’t have you stirring up trouble,” the man answered.
“Me?” Mr. Kay sounded aggrieved. “You saw what he done. Tried to murder us.”
“He’s sick,” Ellery interrupted.
All eyes flicked to her, making her suddenly aware of the state of her dress. The open coat showed off her bare legs. Conor’s jacket hung askew off one shoulder. With as much grace as she could muster, she pulled the jacket up and swung the coat closed around her legs.
Evan stepped forward, placing himself between Conor and the men. “He calls on the animal spirit to fight through him. That’s powerful magic.”
“He didn’t mean to,” Ellery said. “He suffers from mage sickness. He can barely stand, let alone fight. And he thought Mr. Kay had taken the ring. It was my fault. All of it.”
“Your fault? How so?”
“I was trying to get him a doctor, but we haven’t any money.”
Evan studied Conor’s slack features, his shaking limbs. Now that the fever madness had passed, he trembled as if palsied, even his voice gone.
“If it’s truly mage sickness, no doctor can help him. Only time and his own strengths.”
“Get him out of here, Evan,” Mr. Kay repeated. “He’s one of them. He’s dangerous.”
Evan shook his head, and Ellery wondered how she hadn’t noticed how wise and kind his eyes were. “He’d be more dangerous if we let him loose.”
