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“There’s only so much space to fill underhill and magical objects tend to like toying with each other. It’s safer for everyone if certain things remain with humans. One of the items that went missing controls Bhrunyz. Whoever broke into the museum took the brooch and is using it correctly.”
“How would a Were know about Bhrunyz, the brooch, and where to find it?” I asked.
“I’ve a feeling one of ours was telling stories; we’ll continue to look for the culprit, but haven’t yet been able to find out who or when.” Qusay looked to Donovan, who was massaging his temples as he thought. “I was to tell you this and leave.” He paused for a moment. “But you’ve been my friend for many years—perhaps you’d like to call that a debt?”
“Yes.” Donovan perked up a little.
“Then I’ll tell you two things before I leave. First, don’t go after Bhrunyz until you’ve found the brooch. He’s built for killing the most powerful supernaturals and would challenge even our best fighters. If you see him and he attacks you, run.”
“We’ll do just that.”
“This second piece may not be my place, but I say it because of the friendship that I hope to keep.”
“Please,” Donovan said. “You may speak freely.”
“I think you’ve been away too long,” Qusay said. “Bhrunyz is being controlled by one of your own. You’ve got problems, and they won’t get better unless you decide what you really want. It’s been too many years of only popping in when you had a day or two to yourself or when there was a crisis. I tried to tell you it was going to cost you, but you didn’t pay any heed.”
It was funny how everyone knew Donovan was doing too much, and yet he was a little clueless.
“You did, but I was too busy to listen. I have the Council to think of,” Donovan said.
“And your pack. And now, your mate. You have to make a choice soon, Donovan, or you risk losing everything.” It annoyed me that Qusay put me on the list. I was supposed to be an asset to Donovan, not another burden.
“Maybe.” Donovan sighed. “We’d better get back to the stronghold.” He took off his robe and threw it at Qusay before shifting.
I caressed my robe for a second, wondering if I could get away with running back in human form, but I’d slow us down too much. I was going to have to give it back. Plus, it was rude to keep it when it hadn’t been offered that way.
“I’ll have it sent to you.”
I met Qusay’s gaze. “Really?”
“Yes. It’s been a while since I made someone happy with something so small. I would be remiss if I took it from you.” He held out a hand. “Go. It’ll be waiting for you when you get back to the stronghold.”
I bit back a thank you and slid it off my shoulders. “It is lovely.”
“Indeed.” And with a wave of his hand, the robe disappeared. “As are you.”
In an instant, my muscles changed and lengthened, reforming until I was a wolf again. It took me a few steps to catch up with Donovan. We ran straight back to the stronghold. No playing or teasing. No chasing any game. I was left alone with my thoughts and as the castle came into view, I wondered if we’d really made any progress, especially when it came to the pack.
They hated me. I could feel that in the pain that ripped down my shoulder. We had to find the bad apple or else I’d be facing at least one challenge at the next full moon. If I was still alive then.
The prospect of running into Bhrunyz again terrified me. Qusay said we didn’t have a chance without the brooch. But as I thought about it, I realized that while we didn’t have much to go on, we’d actually been getting little sprinkles of information. And now we knew how Bhrunyz was controlled.
That gave me hope. If I could find the brooch, then I would have the person responsible and eliminated the threat of the fey beast. I’d kill two birds with one freaking brooch.
A little bit of time sniffing around the pack members, and I’d be golden. I’d have this wrapped up in a couple of days.
All I had to do was stay alive that long.
Chapter Eighteen
The library was a total bust. After a minor showdown with Feidhelm over the fact that he was still denying me access to the pack’s ancient, circa 1994 computer, the Were-cherub was officially on my shit list.
I’d tried using my phone to research the brooch instead, but after spending a fortune in data-roaming charges and an hour of my life that I’d never get back, I’d found exactly zero pictures or mentions of a brooch on the museum website or in articles about the robberies.
Basically, I’d hit a dead end.
I needed this brooch. My life depended on it. But how the hell was I going to find it if I didn’t even know what it looked like?
