Page 88 of Horn of Winter

It wasn’t unexpected, but regret nevertheless twinged through me. There’d been a bit of me—a verytinybit, granted—that had hoped we were wrong, that my closest living relative aside from Lugh wasn’t now hunting me down.

“What were you ordered to do?” I asked.

The sneer appeared again. “Keep an eye on your movements and report back to her.”

“Did she say why?” Mathi asked.

“She said she needed to know your location on an hourly basis, in case her plans had to change in a hurry.”

Did that mean her planshadn’tyet changed? It certainly seemed to be the implication.

“Which means you must have her phone number,” I said. “Give it to me.”

He did so, though not at all happily. As I tapped it into my phone, Mathi asked, “Did you meet her at any point?”

“No.”

“You have no idea where she’s staying?”

“Not in Deva. I had some friends checking for me.”

“Why? Didn’t you trust your employer?” I said dryly.

“I don’t trust no one.” He sent a dark look his parents’ way. “Even those closest to me can apparently be bought out.”

“More threatened than bought out,” Mathi said. “And no doubt a good portion of the income they get from my company supports their somewhat useless only son.”

“And so they should. That’s what parents do.”

What his parents should have done was slap him upside the head a few times. Maybe that would have shaken some of the attitude loose.

“What else can you tell us about her or her plans?” I asked.

“Nothing.” It was sullenly said.

The lad didn’t like not being fully clued in as to what was going down.

The knife stopped pulsing, so I pulled it free of the stone. From outside came the sound of approaching sirens, and the noise seemed to impinge on the old man’s consciousness. His eyes flickered open, and his gaze swept around the room until it hit me.

Confusion ran through his expression. “Who are you?”

“Mathi’s friend. You should stay still, because I think you’ve broken your wrist.”

“Where did you come from?” He ignored me and struggled into a sitting position, his breath hissing through thin lips. “What happened to my house?”

“She did it,” Tony growled. “She’s the fucking storm witch I warned you about. Did you listen? Fuck no, so here we are.”

The old man’s eyes widened. “Why would you do such a thing? We did nothing?—”

“Which is blatantly obvious where your son is concerned,” I couldn’t help snapping. “He lifted Mathi’s car and flung it a good half kilometer away, almost killing his chauffeur, then he wrapped me in air and tried to slam me into the ground.”

“He wouldn’t?—”

“He did, just as he destroyed the guild’s accommodation wing. Or didn’t he tell you about that, either?”

“Tony?” Bewilderment danced through the old man’s expression. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

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