Page 3 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

Wickham exhaled loudly and shook his head. “It makes no sense. It was he who insisted any DeNoy must be killed immediately. Man, woman, or child--”

“Only one explanation,” Brian chimed in. “Sometime after yer visit in the past, somethin’ happened to change his mind.”

Flann hunched his shoulders. “There’s more.”

They waited and waited.

A tear squeezed out of the corner of the man’s eye and jumped from wrinkle to wrinkle until he batted it away. “On the back of the note—a postscript.Just be certain ye lock yerself before the Fae find ye.” Flann shook his head again, knocked his fingers against the scrap of paper still in Wickham’s hand. “I remember…Lennon never turned the card over. She didn’t see the postscript.”

“Two guesses who’s been waitin’ to scoop her up,” Brian said. “And the first guess doesn’t count.”

1

Picking My Executioner

Finally, she's mine.

The indecisive storm clouds hovering over Oxford offered a smooth escape out of the city. The hour was early, and the mist clinging to the campus meant few Fae could have seen Griffon pause on the rooftop of Christchurch. But he’d had no choice, couldn’t ignore his need to look into Lennon's eyes to see if she was toying with him.

He wouldn’t take her another foot until he knew it washimshe was after and not the child he still held hostage.

But no. One glance and he knew her heart was well and truly broken--and if that's what it took to send her into his arms, he’d take it and be grateful. Her heart would mend, and he was the one who could do the mending.

“Why?” he demanded. Why had she summoned him?

She swallowed back a fresh wave of tears. “Because I…I am…DeNoy.”

“I know,” he said, and pulled her tight against him as he plunged back into the sky in a new direction. It was too soon to take her to his favorite sanctuary, where Fallon and her grandmother would be preparing for a morning trip to the sea. They’d be disappointed when he didn’t show up, but it couldn’t be helped. Fallon would miss the beach today.

As he intended, Lennon was rendered unconscious by their rapid ascent. He took advantage and kissed the top of her head. Her hair was cold against his lips, reminding him she didn't have his same capacity for enduring weather changes. Winter was on the horizon, and for her, flying would need to cease for a while.

But at least they were together. Sailing through the heavens or grounded on earth, what did it matter to him?

In his mind, he sorted through a dozen places he could take her. Most were too far away. The mountain retreat they'd once shared for a day wasn't plausible. She’d nearly frozen to death that first time. And they had too much to discuss to be distracted by the cold.

They needed somewhere warmer. Yet close.

He stopped thinking altogether as his wings canted, taking his decisions from him. He would take his precious DeNoy...home.

* * *

I woke onceand found myself in a familiar position, draped across Griffon's arms as we rose and dipped in the air. Thanks to the taste of salt and the kiss of humidity on the wind, I didn't have to look to know we were over the ocean. I swallowed back my fear of falling and drowning—if he wanted me dead, he would have dropped me already.

Why didn't he want me dead?

The wording of The Covenant had been clear. All DeNoy must be destroyed in order to protect...someone. And the recordings from theSeanairwere even clearer--if you find a DeNoy, man woman or child, kill first, question after.

But then, in that cryptic note enclosed with a Bible, the old man had insisted I must survive. Why the change? What had he known? And why hadn’t he explained?

Could it be that Griffon knew the same thing? Was that why I was still alive? He’d known I was DeNoy, but for how long? Before he'd kidnapped me and used me for bait? If so, the least he could have done was tell me when he let me go.

I swore to myself that if I lasted through the day, I was going to find out.

The air shifted, but I kept my eyes closed.

"I know you're awake," he said, close to my ear.

I opened one eye and found him looking down at me with mocking laughter in his eyes. For some reason, he was awfully pleased with himself.

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