Chapter 11

The Singer brothers didn’t join us for dinner, and neither did Padma or Merry. Edwin was subdued and Haiden distracted, and the pending trip to the castle and the revelation that I’d have to live there had successfully killed my appetite.

Ezekiel had invited me to dinner at midnight, but I doubted he’d have actual food. He probably planned to show me his skull collection or something. The fact that Ordell and Hemlock were coming with me was the only thing stopping me from freaking out.

By the time supper was over, my stomach was in knots. There was only one thing that could help me.

The grounds behind the mansion were unkempt and wild—grasses too long, swaying in the cold breeze, dead spindly trees reaching for the sky as if beseeching the heavens for help, and smack bang in the middle of the chaos was the chapel tower. My chest tight, I pushed open the door and entered the sanctuary. Candles burned low, flickering in invitation. White stone wings flared up from an alter in the center of the tower, and purple cushioned kneeling pads surrounded the base of the altar. The remnants of incense told me that someone had been here recently. Probably Padma. Hopefully Padma. She needed this, and now so did I.

I took an unlit candle from a box by the door and carried it to the altar, lighting it on the thicker candle burning defiantly beneath the wings. I set mine in the holder at the base of the altar and then knelt, lifting my chin to the heavens and closing my eyes.

“Blessed be the wings that shield us. Blessed be the wings that lift us up. Blessed be the wings that guide us. Give me peace. Give me strength of body and mind so that I may complete the task ahead of me. Fuel my conviction and temper my desires. Blessed wings, keep me forever in your embrace.”

The markings up my arm tingled, and a pressure settled on my head—the gentle caress of an otherworldly hand—a promise that I would not be alone. The tangle of knots in my belly subsided. “Thank you.”

I was not, and would never be, alone.

It was almosteleven when a knock sounded on my bedroom door. I tugged on my jacket and yanked it open, expecting to see Ordell, but it was Hemlock that stood in the corridor.

His lapels were flipped up as usual, shielding the lower half of his face and leaving his frosty eyes the most prominent feature. They raked over me, leaving a chill in their wake. He settled on the holster at my back where the hilt of my sword was visible over my shoulder.

“Bad idea,” he said.

“Maybe, but there is no way I’m going anywhere near him without it.”

He slow-blinked, his eyes gleaming like a cat in the lamplight. “You can’t kill him.”

“No, but I can maim the fuck out of him if he tries anything funny.”

“He won’t respond well to threat.”

“Oh, this is no threat. It’s a promise.” I smiled thinly. “A promise to say touch me and lose a hand.”

His attention dropped to my lips for a beat before dragging up to my eyes again, and the pulse in my throat jumped. “He won’t like it.” But there was a look in his eyes, almost anticipatory.

“You leave that to me.” I brushed past him and down the corridor. “I assume Ordell is with the carriage outside?”

“You assume correctly.” He followed, so close that his body heat chased me down the corridor. “Ready to walk into the beast’s den to protect the angelic operative.” He didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm.

While Ordell seemed fine with being here as protection for me, Hemlock seemed less so. Had his brother strong-armed him into taking the job? The last thing I needed was a reluctant bodyguard.

I stopped abruptly, and his hands shot out to grab my shoulders to stop us smacking into each other. My head tipped up in time to see the flare of gold rush over his irises, and the next moment I was shoved away with a little too much force.

I grabbed the banister. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“You,” he said coolly. “You with your overconfidence and smart mouth, thinking that you can tame a monster.” He approached slowly, a panther stalking prey, and I locked my knees, meeting his glare with one of my own. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“I have as much idea as you. I’ve read the journals. I know what I’m doing. This is my job, and yours is to watch my back. Period. Not question me. Not derail me. Not belittle me. Are we clear?”

His eyes narrowed to slits, and the hairs on my arms stood to attention. “I think you have it twisted, angel.” He said it mockingly, derisively, trying to ruin the pet name Ordell had given me. “Our only remit is to protect you, at all costs. We do it our way, not yours. We’re hunters. We deal with predators all the time. We know how not to become prey, and we can teach you the same.”

“Really? Is that what your predecessors did?”

He flinched then drew back, his expression smoothing out like marble. “One can only work with the materials one has.”

So this was the watchers’ fault? No. No, Orina, do not go there. Focus. We had a job to do, and for it to be a success, we needed to work as a team. Common ground usually worked in these situations.

“Look, I don’t want to argue with you. I get you don’t want to be here. Trust me, neither do I. But we’ve both got a job to do, so let’s just do it. Okay?”

His brows flicked up. “Are you giving me a pep talk?”

Was that a hint of amusement in his eyes? “Is it helping?”

“Indubitably.”

I arched a brow. “A simple yes would do.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Why was I having to fight a grin? “Unequivocally.”

His mouth twitched, but he pressed it into a thin line. “Let’s get moving, Miss Lighthart.”

He brushed past and down the stairs, leaving a cedar wood and leather scent in his wake.

I followed. “Orina. My name is Orina.”

But he was already out the front door.

I wasn’t sure if Hemlock was just uptight by nature or if my presence just rubbed him the wrong way, but if we were going to survive the year, we’d need to maintain a good working relationship, and if his icy temperament was anything to go by, the effort would have to be on me to make this work.

Great, just fucking great.

I clomped outside and down the steps toward the carriage, where Hemlock was parked in the driver’s seat. Ordell held open the cabin door.

I was going to be riding inside with him?

My stomach fizzed, and his eyes warmed as if he could sense my pleasure. This was bad. I should not be feeling this way.

Blessed wings give me strength and?—

A shadow blocked out the moon.

“Look out!” Ordell ran toward me.

The air whooshed, and I ducked a moment too late to avoid being snatched off my feet. Ordell’s fingers grazed my boot, and his horrified face was the last thing I saw before I was carried off into the sky.