The Crow’s Murder (Kit Davenport #5)

“We’d rather not,” I replied with a smile of my own. “Do you mind if we sit out here?” I indicated to the expensive-looking outdoor setting on the patio. “It’s such a nice day, after all.”

Okay, so “nice” was stretching it, but it was springtime and warm enough to go without a jacket. This was a good thing because without my super-healing, my back was on fire from the detailed runes stretching from the nape of my neck down to the top of my ass. It was actually amazing how many Austin had managed to get done in such a short time, but holy crap, I could feel them all now.

Regardless of the lingering pain that I was unaccustomed to, I was grateful. There was enough magic inked into my skin that I should have no issues defending myself long enough for Caleb to get me the hell out, if need be.

Nicholai gave me a small smile that said he knew exactly why I wanted to stay outside, but he didn’t argue. Smart man.

“Of course,” he agreed with a small head tilt. “I’ll tell Bride to come out. Can I get you a tea or coffee?”

“Coffee,” I accepted just a touch eagerly, and Caleb said the same. The fox shifter nodded and headed back inside the house while Caleb and I took a seat at the outdoor setting. I perched on the edge of my chair, wanting to stay alert for any mischief my bitch of a mother might have up her sleeve.

“You doing okay?” he murmured to me as we waited, and my gaze searched the trees for Wes. “Just remember, keep calm and play dumb. We want to coax the information out of her, if possible. At worst, we don’t want her suspicious about why we came here, right?”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed, finding Wesley’s dark, feathered form in one of the top branches of a huge tree.

“Kitty Kat, that doesn’t sound very encouraging,” Caleb whispered, but whatever he was going to say next was cut short with the door opening and Bridget strutting out to meet us with Nicholai on her heels holding a tray.

That wasn’t even an exaggeration; she strutted out like she was Queen Shit and we were her lowly peasants coming to beg favors from her. I was really starting to get a feel for why so many people disliked her.

“Christina, darling,” she cooed, coming to air kiss my cheeks before pulling out a chair for herself. “I’m so glad the change of locations wasn’t too much trouble for you. My business was all wrapped up in Los Angeles, you see. There was no need for me to stay there any longer.”

“Didn’t bother us,” I replied in a cool tone. “We can go anywhere... as you know.”

Bridget flicked a glance at Caleb and gave a quick, brittle smile. “I do. So what can I do for you, sweetie? You said you wanted to know more about our people?”

I nodded, taking the cup of coffee that Nicholai held out to me. Then I thought better of it and placed it down on the table without taking a sip. Bridget had already proven she wasn’t above magically drugging people’s drinks.

“Yes,” I replied, meeting her darker blue eyes without so much as blinking. “More importantly, I want to know why you gave me this fucking bracelet and how to get it off.” I held my gold-encircled wrist up, even as Caleb groaned and kicked me under the table.

Bridget’s red brows shot up in surprise, and her gaze flickered to my wrist. Her shock only lasted a brief second, though, before her lips twisted into a cruel smile, and I came to the sickening realisation that we were about to meet the real Bridget.

“Oh dear,” she murmured in a mocking voice. “Did someone cut you off from your magic?” She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “What a terrible shame. And you, the Ban Dia who was supposed to save the world.”

“Excuse me?” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at her. “No one ever said I was supposed to save the fucking world. What is your problem, really? What the fuck did I ever do to you? I was a child, for god’s sake!”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, sugar.” She leaned forward in her seat, her eyes flashing with danger and her teeth taking on a decidedly sharp gleam. “I am so glad you decided to drop the pretense. This was going to be so boring if you never knew what I was up to.”

My teeth ground together hard, and it was taking everything in my power not to pop her in the nose again. “Why don’t you enlighten me then?”

“Of course,” she replied gracefully, sitting back to sip her tea. “I suppose I will need to, given that, I assume, Jonathan never did get around to telling you all the important parts. Always was a fault of his, hiding his head in the sand. Pretending like if he ignored fate, then it might not happen.”

“What the hell does this have to do with Jonathan?” I demanded, choking slightly over his name.

She grimaced. “Yikes, he really didn’t get far before Simon shot him, did he?”

“How the fuck do you know about that?” I gasped, feeling bile rise in my throat. Surely Bridget couldn’t have been the one behind Simon’s orders....

She flapped her hand like that was the least of her concerns. “Jonathan had a whole lot more to do with this than you clearly understand. I don’t suppose he ever told you about his sister?”

I started to shake my head, then remembered. “Only that I reminded him of her; that was why he adopted me himself instead of putting me back into the system.”

She snorted a laugh. “Yes, I imagine you would. His sister, Tasha, was my mother—your grandmother—and the sole reason we are all in this shit fight to begin with.”

My jaw dropped open, and the air all gusted out of me like I’d just been punched in the gut. Jonathan was my great-uncle? Why would he never have told me that?

“Wait, how...?” Coherent sentences were failing me as my mind frantically tried to fit all the pieces together.

“How was that bitch responsible for this mess?” Bridget finished for me. It wasn’t what I’d been about to ask, but it would do, so I nodded. “Tasha had the gift of foresight. One of her dianoch was a seer, and she gained some of his power when they bonded. Ban Dia aren’t designed to take on anything more than a faint shadow of their dianoch’s magic, though. They exist to increase our strength in our own magic. Not to share theirs. Anything more than just a little taste, and it can drive a Ban Dia mad. That’s what happened to Tasha.”

She paused to sip her tea, watching me from under her long lashes. That bitch. She already knew I had taken on more than a “little taste” of my dianoch’s powers.

“Anyway, Tasha became a bit deranged, determined the world was about to end and desperate to stop it from happening. I was just a little girl at the time, but she became convinced that I would be the one to bring destruction down on the earth.” Bridget rolled her eyes, but her voice was bitter with deep-seated hatred of her mother. “So she colluded with a group of mages to strip me of my magic when I came into it at age seven. That’s the pivotal age for Ban Dia children. Seven. When we know if our child is our one true descendant or just a dud.”

“That’s the real reason you dumped me, isn’t it?” I breathed, feeling shivers of shock creeping over my skin. “You thought I was a dud.”

Bridget shrugged, uncaring. “You showed no signs of being a Ban Dia on your seventh birthday; I saw no reason why I should keep you. Not you or any of the other dud children I’d created over the years. Besides, you should be thanking me. If I’d known you were my true heir back then, I would have drained your magic straight away. You never would have made it past childhood.”

I gasped with shock, and Caleb tightened his grip on my hand. I hadn’t even noticed him take it to begin with.

“Clearly Tasha’s spell didn’t take,” Caleb commented. “You don’t look like your powers are stripped at all.”

“Clearly,” Bridget responded to him as if ignorant of how her casual news was hitting me. “Tasha wasn’t all there in the head, so it was hardly a surprise that it all went wrong. My magic was a little dented, but in no way stripped like she had hoped.”