Page 51 of Crown of Tides and Fury

After a long silence, the old man simply repeated his warning about the DeNoy.“Kill first, ask questions after. If ye should fall, or fail to bond with our people, tell yer friends to look for my book. And tell Ambition…at the end, tell him the placement of his window was my idea.”

“And the cloch realta?”

“Ye found one, then? How?”

“Ye sent me…”

“I sent ye to find it? And I said nothin’?”

“Nothin’.”

“Then I must have had a reason.”

* * *

Half my life,I’d been waiting to find out what Hank was and why our family had been entrusted with it. Cursed with it. Haunted by it. I thought…I’d hoped Wickham could have put me out of my misery.

Dinnae get yer nose too far ahead of yer feet, laddie. Ye’ll frighten yerself, sure.

That old coot was recommending patience?Are you shitting me?

“Sorry if some of us don’t have fifteen thousand years to figure all this out,” I said aloud, as I stomped to my room. I wasn’t about to join the Irish brothers in the war room to review the recordings and get pissed all over again.

I didn’t begrudge Flann and Brian for being excited. They reveled in having a new reason to make a list and pin it to the wall. I just…didn’t care anymore. This wasn’t new stuff. It was more of the same, and I was sick of it.

What I really wanted was to go marching out into the nearest field and holler until a certain winged creature came calling. Maybe he could answer some questions for me before he dropped me into a school of sharks or ripped me into pieces and fed me to a pack of lions in Africa. That flight would last long enough to get some questions out—if I could stay conscious long enough.

I pulled up my shirt before I was even through my bedroom door, ripped off my money belt, and tossed it into the darkness of my closet. I continued to strip down to my nuthin’s in defiance of old men everywhere, then marched out onto my patio, looked up at the sky, and screamed my most primal, “Effyou!”

While I shot hatred from my eyes into the Milky Way, I heard doors open, footsteps, a chuckle, then nothing. When someone finally had the courage to come closer, it was Persi, grinning as she wandered around the corner from the large veranda to the row of private patios outside the bedroom doors.

She offered a slow clap as she neared. “Impressive. You won’t mind if I copy you one of these days.” At the end of my banister, she leaned a hip and tilted her head, sending her mass of curls to one side. “On behalf of our fellow galaxy inhabitants, I’ve been tasked with asking if you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, liberated, at least.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the main doors. “I would expect otherwise, but I don’t think they get a lot of female streakers in the UK. I don’t think they know what to do.”

“They can leave me alone.”

“They’re trying.” She chuckled. “Though I don’t think they’re trying very hard.”

A slight breeze tempted me to run back inside, but Persi was right. I did feel liberated, almost cat-like, and I was in no hurry to go back inside to spare others a little embarrassment.

“Listen,” she said. “I’ve been saving a stash of stuff for an emergency.Yanks onlykind of stuff. When you’re finished…uh…cooling off, come to my room. You, me, and Everly. Come as you are, if you want, but you know she’ll question your fashion choices. And you don’t want her taking you back to the groomers…”

* * *

I toldmyself my choice of underwear—soft, cotton boxer briefs with white daisies and lace around the legs—had nothing to do with Everly. Just because they covered me well, didn’t mean I’d chosen them to…camouflage anything. I paired them with a matching bra and a sheer blouse that reached my butt, and that was it. They were lucky I wore anything at all.

When I got to Persi’s room, I’d been expecting weed or something more contraband-y. I was offered Fritos. Soon after I claimed a seat, the door opened.

“What in the hell have you done to the Fritos?”

A blonde woman stood in the doorway. From the looks on Everly and Persi’s faces, she was definitely not expected.

20

No Good Deed…

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