Page 72 of Crown of Tides and Fury

The creature was pleased with the hope Griffon could not hide. “Come forward, Archer!”

Griffon turned, found his brother’s longed-for face edging nearer as he pushed his way through the mass of velvet and ugliness. He warned him, with a look, to tread carefully. When Archer neared, Griffon held out his hand, politely, instead of pulling him into his embrace, as he wanted to do. “Archer.”

“Griffon.”

“I believed you dead.”

“I was close. Had already crossed into the Embrace. Then I found myself here.”

Orion cleared his throat to gain their attention. “And your sister? What would you do, Professor, to win your sister back?”

Archer squeezed his hand tighter, a silent warning not to bargain, a warning Griffon didn’t need.

“Our sister is dead,” he said, his voice flat. “No one can raise the dead.”

The green eyes glittered again. “Onecan.”

“You?”

“Not…yet. I must find this Wickham first. He will know where the power over death is hidden. And once it is mine, your sister will be the first to rejoin this world.” He leaned back and preened. “Bring me Wickham and have Daphne back.” He waved a hand at the ceiling and the entire expanse turned an intense shade of purple. Daphne’s favorite. The same galaxies swirled about their heads that once swirled on his sister’s fingernails.

Never bargain. Never bargain. Never bargain.

And yet…

To hand Wickham over to the imposter wouldn’t just mean earning Daphne’s life. It would mean exchanging his sister’s life…for Lennon’s.

28

First The Worst

Our celebratory dinner was held at Andrew Edmunds, an intimate little restaurant in London, just north of Buckingham Palace. Most of the menu consisted of fish dishes, but Wickham assured me I’d enjoy any of them. I patted his cheek, then ordered the prime rib.

He’d hired a small, nine-piece orchestra of aging musicians, who were surprisingly talented, and we spent more time dancing than sitting. The three couples among us, which now included Kitch and Persi, kept to themselves half the time, but thankfully, the other women took a turn dancing with Brian, Flann and Alwyn, so I wasn’t their only option.

Still, it didn’t distract me from the fact that I was, in fact, single.

For men, it’s different. Brian and Flann weren’t looking for wives. Neither was Alwyn. And I wasn’t looking for a husband. I wasn’t craving companionship or a physical relationship.

I was craving Griffon.

If Wickham knew how tempted I’d been—how long I’d stared at that little pinfeather in my hand before putting it back on the nightstand—he wouldn’t have let me out of the house. But one selfish act of allowing Griffon to find me would have endangered the lives of everyone I cared about.

He wanted revenge against six of us for what happened to his brother and sister. Not just me. Not just Wickham. I had to remember that.

The problem was, when I thought about Griffon, I remembered the way he looked at me, right before we kissed.“I can’t forgive you,”he’d whispered.“Any of you. Don’t expect it.”

That was the part I needed to remember, not the kiss. But that was easier said than done.

Wickham cut in on Flann, during the final song. He smiled patiently and moved me around the room once before speaking. “No sense tempting fate,” he said. “Once we’re on the road, I’ll pop the cars home.”

“Okay.” I wondered why he bothered telling me.

“We have a problem.”

“Oh?”

“I checked in with Mr. Brooks. He’s had a request. Inspector O’Ryan would like to question ye in the disappearance of another taxicab driver.”

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