35. Zendaya

Chapter 35

Zendaya

" I thought you didn't inform him of my trip," I mutter to Erwin as Cathal irrupts into the tavern, eyes slitted, hair wild.

"I didn't," the beefy redhead murmurs. "Like I mentioned earlier, I don't care to be plucked." He scratches the back of his neck. "Or pulped. I'm in so much fucking trouble. Apologies for what I'm about to do."

When he morphs into smoke and streaks past Cathal, I realize that he was apologizing in advance for abandoning me with the seething Crow. "I'm ready to leave, Ceres."

"Right away." Once she's slipped her arms through her fur-lined cloak, she helps Agrippina into hers. "Evening, Cathal."

The Crow doesn't reciprocate her social niceties, merely aims his glower her way. Ceres doesn't flinch as she hooks Agrippina's arm through hers and crosses the deathly-quiet tavern toward me.

Fallon's Faerie grandmother gives my outfit a once over. "Not really dressed for this weather, are you? Good thing it's not a long walk. Come."

I start to follow when Cathal finally unclenches his jaw. "She'll be coming with me."

"No, she won't," I reply tightly.

"I wasn't giving you a choice, Príona."

I come toe to toe with Cathal and angle my face toward his to deliver words which I know will make him back down. "My mate wouldn't appreciate me going off with another male. Not to mention that you aren't my guard."

My words don't magically blow the Crow away. They merely hone his fury. "As far as I can see, your mate isn't around," he grits out.

"You'd see farther if you stopped watching me."

Though his facial hair has thickened, it doesn't conceal the severe angle of his jawbone.

"How about you escort us to my house, Cathal?" Though Ceres's question is packaged as a suggestion, it isn't one. "A win-win for everyone." She lowers her voice to add, "Also, you're disquieting both my daughter and Sybille's patrons."

"Do I look like I give a single fuck about?—"

"They are her livelihood." Her hiss is as cutting as shards of glass.

Narrowing his eyes some more, a feat considering how thin they already are, Cathal wheels around and yanks open the door, crushing its edge until we've stepped over the threshold.

The second we're outside, he growls into my ear, "Get on my back." And then his body expands into his bird's.

I step nearer to Ceres. "No. And don't you dare try to cart me off."

I've no need to peer into his mind to see how he itches to clamp his iron talons around my shoulders instead of around the cobbles he is, at present, reducing to dust.

I take another step toward Ceres, who lingers beneath the flapping awning with a trembling Agrippina. I suppose it's because of our altercation, although it could possibly be due to the bitter chill of the night, which, thanks to my altercation, doesn't penetrate my overheated skin.

A cool shadow glides along my arm before solidifying into a man. "Fine." Cathal's breath is a fiery jolt against the shell of my ear. "You want to stay in the Fae lands and get gored by a fucking Faerie, fine. Fucking fine."

While I appreciate his regard for my safety, I don't appreciate his tone or the anxiety it piles upon my shoulders.

"Don't worry," Ceres says as he dematerializes and takes to the sky. "The Fae lands aren't that bad. At least not on this side of Monteluce." As we begin walking, she says, "My husband—well, ex -husband—is doing an astonishingly good job at keeping the peace."

" Malo uomo ," Agrippina suddenly says, voice warbling with frenzy. " Malo uomo ."

Ceres taps her daughter's hand. " Tiu pappa no malo uomo, mi cuori ." Then in Shabbin, she explains that Agrippina still believes her father is evil—" malo ."

Pity overtakes my unease. "I hope the Mahananda will welcome her soon."

Ceres sighs. "You and me both, Rajka. You and me both."

" Malo uomo ," Agrippina says again, her blue eyes as turbulent as the amber waves caught in her fur collar. She digs her boots into the cobbles, dragging her mother to a standstill, then points to a spot over my shoulder.

Swearing softly, Ceres plunges her hand beneath her coat and extricates a dagger.

I gasp, then gasp again as the ground vanishes from underneath my feet. Still, I don't miss the cloaked figure dashing toward Ceres and Agrippina, brandishing a blade longer than Ceres's. I grip one of Cathal's talons and shout, "Go back! We can't leave them!"

He stops ascending. I know the moment he sees the cloaked figure because he drops like a stone, halting for a heartbeat over a flat rooftop upon which he deposits me before flashing away. I rush toward the edge of the building, my breath stabbing my lungs, shredding my throat. When I see a head roll, I wheeze.

A head.

Without a body.

Just a head.

My chest burns when I catch the shock of black hair.