Page 106 of Crown of the Fae King

“What is it, love?”

The room started back into focus. Everyone was on their feet, alarmed.

I shook my head and whispered, “We can’t ask Griffon anything.”

“Why is that?”

“Because we killed his family.”

43

Hard Hearts Don’t Bounce Well

The difference between the old me and the new me was that the old me was rarely emotional. I never cried at sappy movies—hell, I never bothered watching sappy stuff in the first place—and I rarely shed a tear unless I was damned mad. Even when Andy assaulted me, I told myself there was no changing something that already happened, so I wasn’t going to waste time bawling about it.

Crying would have meant the monster won. And I wouldn’t let that be true. Now, I suspected he’d won after all, thanks to my silence. It was ironic that horrible moments always brought the subject up again. I thought everything the new me had been through would have paled that memory by comparison. I guess not.

Everly sat close while the rest of the gang searched the internet for some mention of Griffon Carew’s family, for mentions in police reports around the time I was found in that taxi. I tried to play a game on my phone, but my attention didn’t last, and I’d die within a few seconds.

A picture in my head commanded all my attention. It was Griffon, the second he found out I was responsible for the death of his brother and sister.

“The brother I don’t get though,” I told Everly. “She had three men with her. Griffon’s only missing one brother.”

“He was the taxi driver,” Kitch said, and turned his laptop so I could see. He’d been calling his sources in Edinburgh. It turned out there was a reason Wickham had trusted him with his family’s security—Kitch knew some shady people. “Archer Carew’s taxi was found, but he’s missing. Someone had been using the car, so it wasn’t found…where we left it.”

“Daphne Carew,” Wickham said, as he scowled at his computer screen. “Antiquity Department at Trinity College Library has been replaced by…this other woman, Aurora O’Connor. Probably Fae as well.”

“Daphne,” I said, finally putting a name to the purple fingernails and flashing purple eyes.

“Daphne,” Brian said, reading his screen as well. “The name gets its meaning from Greek mythology, where Daphne was a nymph who was transformed into a laurel tree by her father to escape from an overly amorous Apollo.”

I winced. “Well, neither of them had happy endings, did they?”

“She took her own life,” Wickham said, reminding us both. “Ye cannae forget that.”

“I try to remember.” Then I addressed everyone at the tables. “Look. I’ve thought about this a lot. I don’t want any of you blaming yourselves for what happened to me or what you did to punish those people. It’s not like we could have gone to the police.”

My speech was wasted. None of them looked like they regretted anything.

“Just saying.”

Wickham closed his laptop. “We’ll take the rest of the day. Start again tomorrow. We’ve got to find another Fae we can approach. Griffon Carew is off the board for now.”

“We already know where to find one,” I said. “You said it yourself. Daphne’s replacement. Probably Fae as well.”

If we were goingto send someone into the Trinity College Library, Urban and Everly were our only options. The rest of us had been caught on film in either library, so the MacKenzie’s were the only members of our team that wouldn’t be identified—if someone were watching for us. And with international attention these days, the rest of us were essentially banned from entering any library…with the possible exception of Laramie, Wyoming.

Brian and Flann were happy to stay at Hope House. Wickham, Kitch, Persi and I were to accompany Urban and Everly. They would identify Ms. O’Connor, then follow her from the library. With so many variables, we planned to wing it from there.

It was agreed that, no matter what, no one would be kidnapping anyone.

“This librarian isnae our last resort,” Wickham admitted the next morning. “I know where other Fae can be found, at a place called Seelie Pause. But they arenae the sort that would be reasonable—much like O’Ryan’s monsters. I’d rather search for the other seven powers and worry about the king last, before I’ll turn to them.”

Two days passed while we prepared for Dublin. Brooks contacted the police department on our behalf and asked if we were still expected to stay in Oxford. Brian, Flann, and I were given the all clear to leave town, as long as we kept in touch with our solicitor.

If Griffon tried to get in touch with me, through Brooks, Wickham didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. Griffon had been hoping I’d call him two nights ago, so I was sure he would have reached out. I was content to let the man believe it was Wickham’s fault rejecting our request for phone calls. I hoped he might be too busy getting out of town himself to give me much thought.

But that was just me lying to myself.

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