Page 50 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
“I don’t know. A guard found his cell empty. That’s why I’m here. This is the first place he would run.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “If he’s out in the wilds, he’sdead. Tyghan’s made it clear how helpless his brother is. If he finds out you lost him . . .” She blew out an angry breath, like this was the biggest botched deal she had ever heard of. “How did you screw this up, Mick? It’s simple. You kidnap a king. You give him back. Easy. Cael’s the only thing keeping Tyghan’s anger in check. If he finds out his brother has become wolf food—”
“Why would you care?”
“Because I don’t want to be caught in the middle of a major testosterone blowup between you two idiots. I have plans of my own. I’ve got one last lead to follow next week in Bogshollow before I go home. An ogre is meeting me there. Only five days before I’m out of here for good! I made a promise—”
Mick suddenly leaned close to her, breathing in deep, pressing her shoulder back to the wall. “I smell magic on you.” It was an accusation.
She pivoted without missing a beat. “Of course you do. I’ve been here for way too long. I’ve learned a few things. I can almost levitate an apple across a room now. If only I could master invisibility, I could manage to stay out of your annoying hands.”
“Levitation? That’s all?”
“What do you expect from me, Mick? Summoning your gods? I’m afraid apples are the best I can do. I’m a fucking mortal who would rather be home delivering pizzas, but instead, I’m stuck here, searching for my father.”
Mick sighed, his finger slowly tracing a line up her arm. “Same old Bristol. You’ll never listen, will you? Trénallis is leading you on. I already told you, your father’s dead.”
Her eyes welled—for the theater.
She paused—for the timing.
But her throat swelled all on its own, the real ache taking her by surprise. The worry for her father never went away. She looked down, trying to shake the feeling. “Stop. Please don’t tell me one more time that my father is dead. I promised my sisters I’d bring him back, and I’m still empty-handed.”
He lifted her chin with the crook of a finger. “You’re chasing a ghost, Bristol. Take them home a trinket instead. A shiny bauble. They’ll forget him soon enough.”
He reached up and brushed his thumb along her lashes, and the puddles in her eyes tumbled down her cheeks. She didn’t know what was a game and what was real anymore. He leaned in, brushing her cheekbone with his lips. Her heart slowed. Sound and movement became muffled, like she was being pulled into a cocoon. The tension in her muscles drained away. Something was happening. Something that—
“I want you to know,” he whispered, “that I didn’t use you when I was in Bowskeep. I went there to find out what my enemies were up to, because they’re always up to something. I cared about you. I truly did.”
No, she thought,no. But his words were soothing, and he sounded sincere, like he had so many times when they met after hours at Sal’s, holding her, rubbing her back like he could rub everything that ached inside her away, mending all that was broken, kissing her like she was the center of the universe. During those two weeks in Bowskeep, he had showered her with his golden words, and she had thought they had something together. But there had always been a niggle in her gut, warning her that something was off. But his touch, his kisses, they were the balm that silenced the niggle, at least for a while. She felt that same balm spreading through her now, telling her to give in to it. Let it heal the pain. Lethimheal the pain.
“Can I kiss you, Bristol? Just once more, for old times’ sake?” he asked, his lips hovering closer.
She pushed back against the feeling. “Why, Mick? So you can prove your kisses are better than his? So you can make me believe that you really care about me?”
“Both of those things, and so I can show you how sorry I am for leaving without a goodbye. You deserved that much. A kiss goodbye, that’s all . . .”
Before she could refuse, he brought his lips to hers, and those weeks in Bowskeep flooded back to her, the stolen moments they shared, the fear that was drowned out, the inexplicable balance she felt, like she wasn’t going to fall off the edge of the world anymore. Mick’s cocoon, that was what she was being pulled into. But she didn’t want to be there. She wanted to push him away. Except the worry was melting away. His tongue circled hers, and the heat inside her said yes, but the distant warning—
A part of her remembering, a voice trying to break through a surface she couldn’t see.
“Doesn’t this place remind you of Sal’s storeroom?” he whispered. “But instead of a couch, here we have a bed.” His hand slid up her side, brushing her breast. “Once more for old times’—”
No. A steady faraway beat trying to rise.
Not this. Not ever.
She shoved him away. “No, Mick! Nothing ever for old times’ sake! You take care of your business, and I’ll take care of mine. But never touch me again! Do you understand? I don’t need your sick brand of magic swaying me, or your false promises. My will is my own, and you will not bend it, not ever again.”
A confident grin tipped the corner of his mouth. “I’m offended, Bristol. You underestimate me.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her to him, and her world went dark again.
CHAPTER 38
Winterwood was a palace within a palace. It was believed to have been built by the daughter of winter, but no one knew with certainty, for it was made during a blizzard, and when the long, furious storm finally calmed, it was there, fully finished, sparkling with the snowy mortar of winter. It was there that the first queen of Danu was born. Over the millennia it had grown, inching outward century after century, but it always remained the warm heart at the center of the sprawling palace, the safe haven in times of storms, whatever kind they might be.
Because of its status as the inner sanctum of the palace, Winterwood was chosen as the best place to host a dinner for a king who was still presumed to be a prisoner of Fomoria. A tucked-away place of safety—and secrecy.
Tyghan was the first to arrive, other than Ivy, who had just come from checking on the menu in the kitchen. “Come see the dining room,” she said, leading the way.
