Page 69 of Cathmoir's Sons

My breath hisses between my teeth. “What concern of it is yours?”

He shakes his head, the golden helmet’s outline flickering around his cheeks. “Kellan, I don’t know what’s going on with you. Crazy rumors have reached my ears. I don’t always see eye-to-eye with Callan, but I’m not going to let you overthrow the Oak King.”

“Why not?” Law asks.

“I just managed to stop Bromios from assassinating the Thistle Regent. What makes you think I’m going to stand aside and let you kill another monarch of Faery?”

Low growls echo on either side of me.

“Don’t pit yourself against us, Evan,” I warn. “You have no loyalty to the Oak King. You’ve sworn no vows to him. Hell has echoed with the screams of Cait souls for a thousand years. He has to answer for that.”

“By your hand?” Evan asks. “The Cait have a king, Kellan. If Cathmoir wants Gwyn ap Nudd to answer for the souls of the Cait, let him call for the Mother’s justice.”

“Cathmoir hasn’t been wronged the way I have. The Oak King owes me four lives. And Iwillcollect.” My fingertips tingle and I rub them against my thighs, feeling the flutter of feathers under my palms. “Stay out of this fight, Evan. It doesn’t concern you.”

Evan shakes his head. The golden helmet shimmers into being, the black crest swishing with his movement, Enochian runes inscribing the edges. Now that I can see more than its aura, I recognize it: the Helm of Azrael.Whyis Evan interfering? The archangel has no dog in this fight.

“Ivywhile sits on a nexus of four ley lines,” Evan says. “Killing one of its kings will disrupt the flow of power through the court. You have no way of knowing what will happen to the ley lines. The Capricorn Guild protects the ley lines at all costs.”

“Ley lines aren’t sacred,” I tell him. “Teddy created one while she was a freshman at Bevington?—”

Evan pinches the bridge of his nose, his fingers moving through the helmet like it’s a hologram. “Don’t remind me.”

“Stop using the ley lines as an excuse. Why are you protecting the Oak King?”

“Why are you planning to kill him?” Evan counters. “You’re not an assassin, Kellan. You’re a college professor. Your consorts arestudents. Is this what you’re teaching them? Is this the example you’re setting for them? Stop this insanity. What happened between the Oak King and the Crow Queens happened a thousand years ago. It’s ancient history. Leave it in its grave.”

“Leave it in its grave? Leave it in itsgrave?” My voice drops to a harsh caw. “You are not fae. You do not understand the ways of Faery. That which was, is. That which is, will be. Time is a circle in Faery. I have risen again. I do not forgive my murderers. And I have not forgotten.”

I raise my hand, my claws curving into a bowl. I blow across my hand, drawing on my Element. Vapor pours off my palm to envelop Evan’s head.

The black plume of Azrael’s helmet cuts through the mist as Evan throws his head back. His scream echoes high and cold through the den.

“Marcher! Enion! Rhodrhi! No!”

Another scream, this one dredged from the bottom of his lungs, his soul.

I See what he sees, my sleeping consorts, their heads pulled back by cruel hands, their throats slit one after another in sprays of red.

I shake with the memory. Warm arms wrap around me. But they can’t stop the horror, the coldness, as an iron hand plunges into my chest and tears out my heart.

With a gurgle, Evan falls to his knees. Then he collapses onto his side, the helm hitting the floorboards with a clang.

Chapter 19

Wtf?

RHODES

What in the ever-loving fuck?

I slide out of my chair, onto my knees, beside Lords’ crumpled form. I put my hand on his chest, feeling for the currents of his blood and breath.

There’s nothing.

“Fuck!” I reach out my free hand blindly. “Luca, help me.”

“No,” Kellan says, a metallic grate in her voice.

---