Page 71 of Kingdoms of Night

When Maman had died, as the oldest of them at nine years old, Danielle had sold herself to the Camarilla to provide the funds to take care of him and Anouk. Their stepfather, the only so-called parent he and Anouk had then, received those funds, and it wasn’t long before the gambling and risky farming choices began, along with his volatile temper. To keep a roof over their heads, someone had needed to endure their stepfather’s beatings. That someone had been him.

When Annette had been born, he’d promised her and himself that she’d never have to see that kind of violence, blood, and bruises, not if he could help it. From the moment he’d first held her and she’d wrapped her tiny hand around his thumb, she’d meant everything to him. He’d kept his promise so far, and he wouldn’t break it now.

He wrung out his shirt, sighing at the remaining smudges of dirt. It was better than before, at least. He tucked it over his belt to dry and wrapped himself back up in Anouk’s oversized scarf.

Distant footsteps made his ears perk up. “Annette?”

The aroma of plums, smoke, and—not quite right. As if she were from another place entirely.

He looked back over his shoulder.

A stunning woman looked back at him, a few buildings away. Where had she come from?

Although she was about average in height, what made her stunning was that he’d never seen anyone like her before. Thick black eyeliner and elaborate charcoal and gray designs decorated her eyelids, accentuating her dark eyes. That artistry curled up along her temples, contrasting sharply with silver eyebrow rings. Elaborate silver-and-black beads wove into intricate earrings, with a small, wilted purple flower just above her left ear.

Her raven-black hair had been plaited into an elaborate serpentine hairstyle, held in place with shining pins. The long iridescent-black fringe of an intricately woven shawl caught the sunlight. A large sapphire pin fastened it at her clavicle, cloaking her arms and torso. Beneath the shawl, her long blue-and-black skirt nearly trailed the ground, every inch of it embroidered with geometric shapes, ivies, and other shapes he couldn’t quite make out. In one hand, she held a large black leather pack, and in the other a slim obsidian dagger.

Wherever she was from, she was probably important, maybe a priestess or a mage.

She straightened, looking him up and down before dropping the pack and brandishing the dagger at him. “You’re looking for someone, too?”

She stared at him, her russet-brown eyes narrowed and her full lips pressed in a tight line.

She spoke fluent Emaurrian? Unexpected. Only a soft accent he couldn’t place gave away that she was a non-native speaker.

She tilted her head, her expression still hard as steel. “I am looking for my cousin. She’s a little girl, about so high”—she held a hand level with her hips—“with black hair and in a lavender dress. Have you seen her?”

Another lost child? His wolf perked up, alert, but he tamped down on the feeling. One lost child was an accident. Two suggested something else. Something nefarious. He didn’t much care for talking to strangers, but if he could help this woman in her search with an answer, he wouldn’t deny her that much. “You’re the first and only person I’ve seen here.”

She raised a thick dark eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what this place is called.”

“No.” And any hope that this woman would have some answers vanished.

“And you’re looking for someone, too?”

He nodded.

She lowered the dagger a little. Just a little. “Another little girl?”

How had she guessed that? A regular human wouldn’t have known that, and as much as he didn’t like strangers, he liked mages and Immortals even less.

Even so, if she had some information for him, it wouldn’t hurt to reveal this much. Eyeing her suspiciously, he nodded again.

“Do you want to join forces and look for them? They might have wandered off together.”

He sighed inwardly. So she had nothing useful to help find Annette. “No.”

He stood from the well’s stone rim and started back down the path. He didn’t have time to waste with someone who knew nothing about this place and who clearly didn’t belong here. Alone was better, more efficient, safer for everyone involved—even this second missing child. He’d find Annette on his own, return her to Anouk, and be on his way from home before the full moon brought out the monster in him.

Ahead, in the middle of the village, was a clock tower. Other than an ouroboros adorning the clock face, it was unremarkable but, as the tallest building here, it offered the best vantage point for surveying the whole village and its surroundings. He’d climb up to the top and take a good look around. With any luck, he’d spot some sign of Annette, but at the very least, he’d map this area in his mind before he continued the search.

“Why not?” The woman followed him, taking quicker steps to match his longer stride. “We are both searching for missing children. We will have a better chance to find them if we help each other.”

He grunted under his breath. Maybe in addition to being a priestess or a mage, she was also a noble. She had that noble inability to accept the wordno. “Maybeyouneed my help, but I’m not here to help you.”

She exhaled sharply. “Excuse me?”

He shook his head. She’d heard him. It was for her own good to stay away. Hers and everyone else’s.

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