“No. Didn’t even see me. I spotted him in London, and I mistakenly threw a lorry at him.”
“Threw a lorry at him?”
“I’m more powerful than I realized.” I shivered, remembering the tearing pain. “But it broke something inside me. My magic or my soul. I don’t know which. But I need answers. It sounds like Garreth or the Maker will have them.”
He nodded, his lips tight.
“We’ll get him back,” I said. It was another reason we needed to find Garreth. We owed him. We’d almost got him away from those who were using him, then we’d chucked him right back into the fire.
Lachlan nodded. “Where did you see him?”
“Like I said, out in London. I’ll take you there. We can ask some questions, hopefully. Get an idea of what he was doing in the building I saw him leave.”
“Let’s go.”
“Give me a moment.” I bottled up more of the pain potion and tucked it in the pocket of my jeans. Ready, I grabbed my slim-cut leather jacket off the back of a chair and shrugged it on, flipping my hair out from underneath the collar. “Ready.”
Together, we descended the stairs. He let me go first, but I was aware of his every movement. Knowledge of him sent heat racing through me.
In the main sitting room, Carrow stood from her chair by the fire. Cordelia was stretched out in front of it, warming her belly, but Ralph was nowhere to be seen.
“Can I help?” Carrow asked.
I considered the offer, wanting to take her up on it. But depending on how this thing with Lachlan went—depending up on how my health deteriorated—I might need her assistance much more later on. Better to save it.
“Not at the moment, but I’ll let you know. You’re a life saver. Thank you.”
She nodded and watched Lachlan warily as he exited the tower.
“I’ll be fine. Promise,” I said to her.
“Take care of yourself.”
“Of course.”
I followed Lachlan out into the courtyard, and he turned to me. “Where are we headed?”
“Westminster.” It wasn’t far. “Let’s go through the Haunted Hound.”
He nodded, and we set off across town. Guild City was quiet at this time of morning, most of the residents having found their way into offices and shops for the workday. When we passed through the Haunted Hound, Mac was on shift.
“Headed back to the scene of the crime?” she asked.
“Yep.” I didn’t know if she meant Garreth’s crime or mine, but both fit.
“Be careful out there.”
I nodded and waved, then slipped out the door, Lachlan behind me. We hurried into Covent Garden and caught a cab, then quickly made our way toward the part of town where I’d last seen Garreth. Though we rode in silence, tension prickled the air between us. How long could we stay like this? Near each other but unable to do anything about it? Forbidden from doing anything about it?
It would drive me mad.
When the driver stopped and let us out, Lachlan paid. I stepped onto the pavement and walked up to the narrow brick building that I’d seen Garreth leave. The long stone plaque over the door had been inscribed to read Museum of Ancient History.
Lachlan joined me, a frown on his handsome face. “He was in there?”
“Ran out like his arse was on fire.”
“He had to have been stealing something.”
I nodded. “Information at the very least. Artifacts at worst.”
“Let’s find out.”
We climbed the short steps to the front door. I gripped the handle and felt the prickle of magic under my palm. If I’d been human, I’d have been filled with an irresistible desire to turn around and walk away. As it was, I knew what was going on and pushed my way through into a quiet marble foyer that had been decorated with blue silk wallpaper long ago. This was one of the rare supernatural properties hidden within London itself, though I’d never heard of it before.
“Hello?” a harassed voice sounded from the top of the gleaming wooden stairs. “Who’s there?”
“Lachlan MacGregor.” His voice echoed in the foyer.
I considered announcing myself, but it wouldn’t make a difference. A few moments later, a slender old man appeared at the top of the stairs. He raced down, quick for his age, and skidded to a stop in front of us on the marble floor.
“I am Aeneas Threadgill.” His white hair was wild around his head, and his clothing reminded me of the dwarves’ usual attire, brilliant and perfectly tailored. The suit was a bold blue, the waistcoat neon green silk embroidered with tiny snakes. “What are you doing here?”
From the accusation in his tone, he wasn’t going to buy that we’d come to peruse the collection. That kind of ruse wouldn’t get us what we wanted, anyway.
“I saw a man run out of here very early this morning,” I said. “We’re looking for him.”
Aeneas scoffed. “So are we, the bloody thief.”
“What did he take?” Lachlan asked.
“Are you his friends?” Aeneas’s gaze skipped over me and landed on Lachlan. “Are you related? You share similar features.”
“Distantly,” Lachlan lied. “But we seek him for the same reasons you do. He’s wronged us. If you can help us find him, we’ll return whatever he’s taken from you.”
“Can I trust you?” He searched our faces.
“We don’t want the artifact, just the person who took it,” Lachlan said. “We’ve been hunting him for a long time.”
The desire in his voice was palpable, and Aeneas could clearly hear it. He nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Fine. Come with me.”
He turned and hurried down the hall.
We followed. As we walked, I peeked into the rooms that split off the main hall. They were stuffed to the gills with ancient artifacts, so full that they almost made me itchy to look into them. So much dusting. How had they acquired all of these objects?
In a room at the back, Aeneas stopped in front of a broken display case. He looked at us, his gaze heavy. “Ours is the foremost collection of artifacts related to the supernatural world. Highly valuable.”
“But not well secured?” I asked, looking at the broken glass.
Anger flashed in Aeneas’s eyes. “Very well secured. In all two hundred fifty-six years of our history, we have never suffered a theft.” He tapped the iron edge of the display case. “This has been enchanted to repel the attacks of all living things. And yet, the thief still managed to break in.”
“How?” Lachlan asked.
“That, I do not know. A spell that shouldn’t exist, perhaps. Or he’s more powerful than any species we’ve ever seen, able to resist the magic that bound this case.”
“He’s not,” Lachlan said. “He’s very powerful, but he’s not capable of something that unusual.”
“Magic, then.”
“It makes sense,” I said, and looked at Lachlan. “Garreth might not be that powerful, but the Maker could be.”
I could feel Aeneas’s attention sharpen. “Garreth is his name?”
“One of them,” Lachlan said. “An alias.”
He was protecting his brother, even though he knew he’d done wrong. I couldn’t blame him.