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The sour smell of blood was starting to fill the air, and the screams were growing weaker—they were hurting because ofme.
“Stop it!” I shouted. “Just stop it! I surrender—just stop!” The last of it came out in a sob as I dropped my sword and held my hands up.
There was a tickle in my elbow that was similar to fae magic, but I was too frantic to trace it.
The tracker swaggered up to me, pulling another handgun from his coat. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he informed me when he slid a magazine into the handgun, then racked the slide, loading a bullet.
He aimed at my heart.
I shut my eyes, and I felt a ripple of power followed by a dim roar. Then the tracker screamed.
Chapter Eighteen
Noctus
Ileaned back in my chair, reviewing an expense report for the clocktower in the quiet of my study. After the artifact incidents I’d decided to risk adding additional protection to the clocktower as it was a possible target considering its size and the sheer number of people who passed through it. But the tower manager had also put in a request for funds to purchase Christmas decorations, and I was struggling to understand how one could spend tens of thousands of dollars on such a thing.
Ker was lounging on the new settee Charon had selected for my office this past summer—we needed it to be the same size as the previous couch for Aristide’s sake—eating jerky with a thoughtful expression, the kind that usually meant a Dale Carnegie lecture was incoming.
Aristide set his wine glass filled with blood down on the coffee table with an irritated clack. “Mustyou masticate your food like a dog gnawing on a bone?”
“I am a wolf,” Ker said.
“Who chews like a t-rex.”
“Hey!”
The argument created just enough noise to cover the never-ending ringing noise of wild magic that still hadn’t ceased its pouting, so I ignored it and turned a page in the expense sheet.Just how many Christmas trees does one building need? And why must they all be themed? Gingerbread, forest animals, Nutcracker, cats—cats? Well…I suppose if they want to put so many trees up, they might as well have different themes.
Charon threw open the door of my study, his expression unusually tense and grim. He clutched his cellphone with what was nearing on too much strength. “Chloe is in trouble.”
I stood up before I realized what I was doing. “What?”
Ker had been waving a piece of jerky at Aristide, but at Charon’s announcement she rocketed upright. “Where? How?”
“Downtown, by the clocktower,” Charon reported. “The tracker has a group of humans he’s using as hostages against her and her brother.”
Aristide stood from his favorite chair, seemingly fidgeting with his jacket but really checking his daggers. “How did you find out?”
“Oleander called it in,” Charon said. “There are humans nearby—if any of them happen on the street the tracker will likely grab them, too, as additional hostages.”
Aristide said something in French—a language I’d always been bad at, but I was certain the phrase involved a blight on the tracker’s parents for birthing a monster.
“He knows she won’t let anyone get hurt,” I said.
“Yeah,” Ker grimly agreed. “He’s got her figuratively pinned.”
“Your call, Noctus,” Aristide said.
I silently stared at my desk, trying to lock down the roar in my heart that demanded blood.He’s fighting Chloe. Chloe! If he hurts her, I’ll rip him from—
I cut the thought out, grinding my jaw as I tried to balance my emotions. Icouldn’tbe impulsive. Acting publicly could reveal my entire realm.
“Noctus?” Ker asked.
“Anonymously call the Curia Cloisters,” I said. “Tell them what’s going on.”
I wanted more than anything to race to Chloe’s side, but my entire existence wasforduty. I couldn’t, no matter how badly I personally wanted to.
