Page 58 of Tattered Huntress
Sir Nigel’s voice burbled on cheerfully, oblivious to the brownies’ muttering. ‘I am reasonably certain that the final part of the key is resting in the private collection of Lord Alisdair Greenwood.’
A murmur rippled around the room and my eyebrows rose; even I’d heard of Lord Greenwood. He was probably the most well-known witch in the country, although his celebrity had more to do with infamy than achievement. The curmudgeonly bastard popped up regularly on right-wing television shows spouting views that wouldn’t look out of place in a fascist dictatorship. He seemed to enjoy courting public disfavour. While he had many detractors, he also had a cohort of staunch admirers who agreed with him that witches were superior to all other beings – and that elves, in particular, ought to be ejected from the country.
I’d long suspected that he didn’t really believe what he preached, but his strong opinions allowed him to have a successful media career. He was always called on when therewas an incident involving witches, elves or both. I was sure he’d be unwilling to hand over a historical object to treasure hunters who included elves. He had a reputation to maintain.
‘Unfortunately,’ Sir Nigel said, ‘Lord Greenwood is reluctant to allow anyone access to his collection. I have approached him several times over the last few days and he has declined to speak to me. The best way forward, as I see it, is to obtain the key part without his knowledge. Once it has been used to locate the Loch Arkaig treasure, I shall ensure it is returned safely to him. I like to think of it as borrowing rather than stealing.’
That sounded like semantics to me; after all, you could argue that bank robbers saw stealing money as borrowing because, once they’d spent their ill-gotten gains, the money was returned to public circulation. Given that part of the reason I’d been fired from SDS was because of my potential to commit crime, it seemed bizarre that I was now being sanctioned to do so.
I would have to be careful – I didn’t need any more run-ins with the police. I risked a quick glance at Hugo. Was he willing to break the law to obtain the third key part? His expression gave nothing away.
‘Lord Greenwood owns several properties and I do not know which one houses the key part. His collections are vast and it will not be easy to find one artefact amongst the many thousands that he owns. The good news is that he is not enamoured of law enforcement and has many reasons not to contact the police if he discovers any of you creeping around one of his houses. He does, however, pay a considerable amount for private security so you must be careful.’
Translation: if you are caught, you won’t be sent to prison but you may well be beaten up by several well-paid goons. I was already sporting more than enough bruises and I would doeverything I could to avoid getting any more. Blue had never been my colour.
‘As always,’ Sir Nigel finished, ‘the best of luck to you all.’ The screen flickered off.
The trio of squirrel shapeshifters were the first to leave and I felt a touch of green-eyed envy. They were perfectly placed to sneak into a building undetected: they could move quickly, hide easily and scale supposedly unscalable walls that would defeat the rest of us. Even so, I managed a begrudging nod in their direction as they passed me. We weren’t exactly friends now, but I supposed we could be described as colleagues. Of a sort.
As soon as they left the room, I followed. I was in no hurry to jump on the motorbike; I had a lot of research to do first. I strolled out of the inn with Hester and Otis flapping their tiny wings next to me and went to the rear where I knew I could find a quiet spot. Stealth was the name of the game in this section of the hunt and I would start as I meant to go on with nobody peeking over my shoulder.
There was a small rose garden at the back of the inn. The flowers were past their best, and there was the faintest tinge of decay lurking behind their sweet fragrance, but it was as good a spot as any to settle down and look for information. I plonked myself cross-legged on a patch of grass, groaning slightly at the ache in my limbs. After all that happened so far, I could do with a damned massage.
Otis was still in a huff at the thought of breaking the law and he zipped off towards a rose bush with pink-tipped flowers. Hester stroked her chin for a moment before joining him. I could hear them murmuring to each other, their voices occasionally raised in argument.
I slid out my phone, checked my internet connection and started searching for anything I could find out aboutLord Alisdair Greenwood and his properties. Cumbubbling bollocks – he did indeed own a lot of big buildings.
‘Are you avoiding me?’
I jerked and my eyes rose to meet Hugo’s. Fuck’s sake. Was it too much to ask for some peace and quiet while I planned a heist? The man was like a damned cat in the way he sneaked up on me time and time again.
‘Yes.’ I lowered my gaze to my phone again. ‘I should have thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Don’t presume to know what I’m thinking, Daisy. You might be surprised.’
I pretended to focus on the screen, hoping he’d either get the message and piss off or my annoyance would dissipate. When neither of those things happened, I placed my phone carefully on the ground and stood up. ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I’ve learned all sorts of surprising things about you.’
A gleam lit his blue eyes. ‘Go on.’
‘You took against me from the very first moment we met because I use illegal drugs, yet now you’re embracing the thought of breaking and entering to steal someone else’s property. I’m pretty certain that’s also against the law. Apparently illegal activities are only a problem when you’re not doing them. One rule for you and one for everyone else.’
The smile that had been playing around his lips vanished. ‘My issues with spider’s silk have nothing to do with its legality – although it’s against the law for very good reasons. And I’m not the only one wanting to steal the next key part. You’re hardly Snow White.’
‘I never claimed to be,’ I retorted.
‘Neither did I.’
I snorted and Hugo’s eyes narrowed but then his shoulders dropped and he seemed to relax. ‘I hoped we were past our initial … difficulties,’ he said. ‘But I realise that you need to find a way of covering your embarrassment. There’s no need for that, Daisy. We both know what you really think of me.’ His voice roughened. ‘You want my hot skin against yours, my arms wrapped around you. And,’ he added, without taking his gaze from mine, ‘you want to feel me inside you.’
A flush crept up my neck. ‘I wasn’t myself when I said those things.’
He gave me a long look, an intense light flickering in his blue eyes, then he stepped back. ‘No,’ he said finally. ‘I don’t suppose you were. You should do something about that addiction. It’d make life safer for everyone.’
Yeah, yeah. ‘Perhaps you should do something about your temper,’ I countered. ‘Why did you hit Boonder?’
Hugo’s flash of embarrassment surprised me. ‘I lost my temper. It wasn’t his fault. I was in the wrong and I apologised.’
At least he didn’t try to deny it and I saw genuine guilt in his expression. I had to give him credit, albeit grudgingly, for admitting what he’d done and accepting it was wrong. Everyone made mistakes but not everyone could admit to them. Maybe Hugo wasn’t a complete bastard – but he didn’t understand anything about me. And I didn’t understand anything about him.
