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“Yes, yes. Only found here within Singing Wind Wood. I heard one clan tried to transport some of them to Cloven and domesticate them. Didn’t work. They disappeared and returned here.” Seerie began licking her paws, ignoring us with definite feline arrogance. “Now then, Kol. Please introduce our visitor.”
“This is Moira Cade of the Gladium Province.”
He took his seat in a tattered leather chair, angling away from the fire to face us.
“Well, now. The youngest daughter of Pritchard Cade.”
I started in surprise. He chuckled. The sound was infectious. I had to smile with him.
“I know all about your family, dear heart.”
Kol leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped together. One of his wings brushed my back. I glanced at him, wondering if this intimate touch was just an accident. He didn’t meet my gaze.
“We came to find out about?—”
“Devlin Wood. Yes, I know. I’ve been waiting for you to come and visit, dear boy.”
Dear boy? How old was this guy? And how did he know Kol would come? Kol didn’t seem surprised at all. Weird.
“So,” I added, “you know about the women. The murders.”
“I do live in remote isolation, but I keep apprised of the world. What kind of historian would I be otherwise?”
He chuckled as Seerie finished her bathing and leaped across my lap onto Kol’s. She curled into a ball and purred in a low hum. Kol’s large hand stroked over her delicate head and neck in a steady rhythm. His gaze caught mine. One side of his mouth lifted.
“What can I say?” He shrugged one shoulder, his wing grazing me again along the spine. I shivered.
“The kitties like me.” He brushed his hand from her crown, down her neck, along her spine and tail. “Especially the wild ones.”
Blushing heat filled my cheeks. Before I lost all reason and started fantasizing about those hands stroking down my own spine, I flipped my attention back to Petrus whose eyes had glazed in thought.
I cleared my throat. “Tell me about Devlin Wood, if you don’t mind.”
He popped up at the sound of a rising whistle. “Would you like some tea? I nearly forgot about it when you two came in.”
I nodded. He fixed two cups and handed me one. I glanced at Kol.
“Oh, Kol doesn’t care for tea,” Petrus explained. Kol’s hand made slow, lazy strokes over Seerie’s coat, a broad hand that covered her entirely. Her purring grew louder, her orange eyes drooping to tiny slits.
“Devlin Wood has a long history of witchcraft,” said Petrus, settling into his squeaky leather chair, dragging my thoughts away from Kol and his steady hands.
My eyes widened in shock as I drank the minty blend, coughing on a sip. “As in”—I cleared my throat—“as in flying-on-a-broom, cooking-in-a-cauldron witches?”
He chuckled. “Yes, dear heart. Humans believe it the stuff of fairytales and legends, but do not legends always have a grain of truth?”
I tilted my head. “Are you referring to dragon magic? The myth?”
“Morgon magic. And it’s no myth. Morgons have gifts outside human understanding.”
“Because of their dragon heritage,” I added.
He smiled, wrinkles crinkling around his eyes. “Now, not all Morgons have abilities outside their dragon senses, like their heightened sense of smell, eyesight, and so forth, but…some do.” His pale-blue gaze roamed from me to Kol who said not a word, petting Seerie into a pleasure-induced coma. Now this was ridiculous. The first time I’d felt envy in a very long time, and it was of a cat.
I turned back to Petrus. “Like the Icewing clan…your clan,” I added.
“You know of our clan?”
“My sister. She was injured and one of your clan healed her. I don’t know exactly how, as she was very secretive about it. But the mark it left behind is extraordinary.” Yes. Out of the ordinary. As in, caused by some supernatural gift. Why had I never considered this before? That the Icewing clan wasn’t the only one harboring uncanny abilities.
