Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“This is blowing my mind,” Nessa whispered.
“That’s his deterrent to magic, though.” Niamh nodded. “My memories from that time are all covered in cobwebs, but I would bet me arse that blood magic is immune to magic such as yours. Mage magic, we’ll call it. He’s half—or part, maybe—so he isn’t totally immune, but he has a natural resistance.”
Sebastian gave a pointed look at Nessa.
“And you’re saying he’s from that place?” I took a sip of my wine. “That wood?”
Niamh shrugged while she gulped her cider. “Can’t know for sure. He’s from somewhere, and it doesn’t seem to be a cairn. He’s got blood magic, I’d bet me life on it. Other than that, I don’t know.”
“Why would he hide it?”
“If he is from there, I wouldn’t blame him keeping it quiet. Most of the creatures with blood magic are taboo. They’re twisted. They’re hunted and exterminated if they cross the boundary. As well they should be. They don’t belong in our world. I’d be interested in knowing why he assumed he belonged in theirs…” She sucked her teeth, her gaze still far away.
“So this is all his doing and not Gimerel hiding something?” I asked.
“I’d guess as much,” Niamh said. “Unless he told that cairn leader and the leader decided he’d better keep it under his hat.”
“Doubtful.” Sebastian looked at his computer screen. “He keeps good records. There was a note asking about origin on Tristan’s original intake files, but it was never resolved. This seems like an example of Nelson deciding not to question his good fortune.”
“Stop lookin’ into this,” Niamh said. “Give that gargoyle a wide berth for now. He’s survived the dark lands, he’s successfully hidden his origins, and he’s not afraid to destroy vile creatures from twisted magic—he’s beyond what ye’re used to handling. I’ll look into this. I’ll do a little prodding and see how he reacts. I know what to look fer.”
Nessa pushed out her bottom lip. “That’s a buzzkill. I wanted to play puzzle master for this one.”
“Ye’d play, and then ye’d get thrown off the roof fer real next time.” Niamh took another gulp. “He’s not goin’ to jeopardize his life for a pretty girl. If he’s hiding something foul that resides inside him, he won’t be welcome anywhere. That’s not something he’ll happily expose.”
“He can’t be that dangerous, though, if I bested his challenge,” I said with a little beam of pride.
“There is a face-to-face challenge, and then there are the shadow games of the Beyond,” she said, her voice haunted. “Ye might win the first. Ye’d hope not to survive the second.”
I released a breath. “So the only way to drag Gimerel down is to take Tristan down?”
Silence met my words. I assumed that was a yes.
The question was, did I want to destroy a life just to get even with Nelson for trying to sandbag me? Could I?
TWENTY-SIX
Jessie
The next morning I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. My coffee had gone cold on the nightstand beside me, and Mr. Tom was downstairs whipping up a “comforting and reassuring” breakfast to get me out of this early-morning slump.
I wasn’t in a slump. I was wading through a bog of guilt and uncertainty.
I didn’t like what I’d become. I didn’t like what my team had become. Getting information the cunning way and presenting it to the cairns had been ugly but smart. Those four basically ran the gargoyle world and seemed to decide who got status and who didn’t. Despite my power, money, and territory size (thank you, Austin), I’d be fast-tracked as a social pariah if they had their say.
I definitely wanted to play hardball with them. I wanted to squeeze them until they popped.
But digging into the private lives of their people had pushed me out of my comfort zone.
Cyra and Hollace had returned to the bar last night with news that although Nelson had been boring to watch, Tristan had been full of activity. He’d kept moving locations or even just rooms within the house that Gimerel had bought, constantly making them chase him. He seemed to know they were spying. He probably knew they belonged to me.
Once informed of our suspicions, they’d wanted a green light to spy on him further. A green light the Dark Three had almost given.
The thing was, Tristan was an employee. He was just trying to do a job. If he was hiding something, it must be for a good reason. A reason Nelson didn’t seem to care about. And why should he? From what I’d seen, Tristan was a model guardian, commanding those under him with finesse and keeping order within the township. He was Austin, for all intents and purposes, and he’d done a bang-up job. How could I consent to my team seeking out and revealing his secret, when it might rip his world out from under him?