Page 6 of Hunt the Dusk
Of course not. He couldn’t play his cat and mouse game with me if I was locked away. I smiled, thin and humorless. “I’d like Godor to take me back to the chapter house now. I’ll be back once I’ve managed to lock away the urge to kill you.”
He slow-blinked, then smiled. “A small respite? I can allow that.”
I hated his magnanimous tone. “Allow? You still think you’re in control of me?”
His smile widened into something predatory and rakish. “Oh, little Silver, you can nip and bite, you can thrash and strain, but you’re in my web now.” He snagged me around the waist and hauled me against him, all taut muscle and power, and much to my disgust, my traitorous body reacted by softening against him before I could assert control over my errant senses and shove him away.
He released me easily with a full-bodied chuckle that betrayed his delight. “What is it like to have your mind and body at war, little Silver?”
I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but I’d be damned if I gave him the satisfaction of showing emotions. I kept my expression unreadable and my tone impassive. “What is it like being a murderous monster with no real friends?”
“Answer mine and I’ll answer yours.”
I replied through gritted teeth, my patience wearing thin. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s what I’m trained for.” I arched a brow, waiting for his answer to my question.
He picked up his goblet from the dresser, where he must have placed it before rushing me earlier, and took a thirsty sip before replying. “The beauty of being a monster is not having to answer to anyone.” He strode for the exit. “Have a safe flight, Miss Lighthart. But don’t stay away too long. Us monster types can wreak havoc if left unchecked.”
“I’m sorry,”Godor said over the whistling wind.
“I know.” I watched the world below, silver-kissed and silent as we coasted high above. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I’m sorry for Agatha. Nice woman. Kind heart.”
His words made my throat ache. “She was.”
“Master was wrong. He was bad.”
“Isn’t he always?”
“Sometimes Master can be…kind.”
Godor’s concept of kindness was probably Ezekiel allowing him a blanket in the freezing cold, not realizing that his master was simply protecting his investment.
We passed the silver forest and flew over the road that split toward New Town, then past the intersection, turning toward the chapter house.
A lone carriage was visible far below, driven by a hooded figure. There was something familiar about the carriage. Was that a silver emblem on the side?
“Godor, how’s your eyesight?”
“Godor can see far.”
“Can you get a look at the carriage and its driver?”
He dove and banked to the left, fighting a gust of wind that attempted to push us back up, but it also snagged the hood of the figure below, whipping it back to reveal dark locks bound high on the crown.
“I see her,” Godor said. “It is Padma.”
It was almost midnight. Where was she going? It was time to find out. “Follow her.”
Chapter 4
Padma drove the carriage deep into Old Town, and the smoggy air made it difficult for me to track her, but Godor didn’t seem to have any issues. He coasted for long stretches, wings beating every thirty seconds or so.
The streets beneath us grew narrower, the houses sparser until they petered out altogether, opening out to accommodate woods and farms.
The air was clearer here, and Godor alternated between circling and trailing Padma as she drove the carriage up a dirt track before vanishing among the trees.
Where was she going? To the manor surrounded by more woodland, or the other way, toward the farm bordered by paddocks?
