Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8), Brad Magnarella [e novels to read .TXT] 📗

The dread just grew worse and worse.”

“So you dulled it with alcohol?”

“Yes, and it worked. Or at least it did.” She squinted at me accusingly before wrapping her head back in her arms.

With her succubus nature, Tabitha was sensitive to activity in the Below. And this latest report from my canary in the demonic coalmine troubled me. By defeating the Strangers in the time catch and capturing Arnaud, I believed we’d disrupted Malphas’s plans. But Tabitha’s reaction coupled with songs about possessed fae suggested Malphas might not be done, that a demon apocalypse could still be on the horizon.

“Any idea where this dread came from?” I asked.

“No, darling,” she moaned. “But I wish it would stop.”

I retrieved a new vial from a bin. “I have another potion. It’ll dull your hangover and help take the edge off, but let me give it to you downstairs.”

She waved a weary paw in concession, and I carried her back down the ladder.

“How is she?” Bree-yark asked. He emerged from the kitchen holding a large mixing bowl of raisin bran staked with a serving spoon. Dropsy hopped along beside him.

“I’ll survive,” Tabitha answered dramatically.

“Hey, Everson and I are going to Faerie,” Bree-yark said. “You should come with.”

I made a quick cutting motion across my throat, but the goblin was too busy shoveling cereal into his mouth to notice.

“Faerie?” Tabitha moved the back of her paw from her eyes and blinked up at me. “You never mentioned going to Faerie.”

A couple years before, she’d given me crap about refusing Caroline’s offer to hide us in her and Angelus’s kingdom during the mayor’s purge campaign. Tabitha’s interest hadn’t been for our safety but in the food—specifically rumors of a goat milk so rich it separated into layers of thick cream.

“We’re not going to a kingdom,” I said, setting her inside her vast depression on the divan. “We’re going to the Fae Wilds, where the food is suspect at best. We’ll be packing what we eat, and it’s stuff you don’t like.”

“Actually, there’s a border town I wouldn’t mind stopping at,” Bree-yark said around another mouthful of cereal. “They have a great market.”

Tabitha, who had begun to lose interest, perked up again. “You don’t say?”

“Oh, yeah. Roasted fish stuffed with goat cheese and herbs. Dripping lamb shanks on spits. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.”

“That does sound delectable,” Tabitha agreed.

I glared at Bree-yark, who took a moment to get the message.

“Well, only if that stuff’s in season,” he amended. “Otherwise, all they have is, you know … hay bread.”

“Hay bread?” Tabitha echoed.

“Yeah, bread made from hay.”

Tabitha wrinkled her face. “I can’t think of anything more dreadful.”

“Oh, it’s worse than dreadful. And that’s if they have fresh hay. If not, they have to sift it out of the ox manure.”

“Hey, would you mind heating up some goat’s milk for Tabitha,” I said before Bree-yark could make his undersell any more ridiculous. He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen with his bowl of cereal.

“I am not eating ox manure,” Tabitha pouted, sagging down again.

“Well, lucky you, you don’t have to. In fact, I’d prefer it if you stayed here and kept an eye on the place.”

Though I could have used Tabitha on demon sentry, especially if the fae were compromised, navigating the Fae Wilds was going to be challenging enough without having to drag forty pounds of attitude on a harness.

“Oh, that reminds me,” she muttered. “You had a visitor earlier.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“They didn’t announce themselves.” When she saw I was waiting for more, she sighed. “I’d just helped myself to your scant liquor offerings and was settling in for a nap when a knock sounded at the door. Though really it was more of a scraping. A wretched sound, darling. Thankfully, my senses were already numbing nicely—it was such a relief to be able to relax at last—and I fell asleep. And then you showed up.”

“So you don’t know who it was?”

“No, darling. I already told you.”

A sense of foreboding overcame me. “Did you smell anything?”

“Yes, your whiskey. Too peaty for my taste, if I’m being honest.”

“No, besides that.”

She started to answer, then reared back onto her haunches. “What is that thing?”

Dropsy had come around the back of the divan and was peering up at her, her glass face glowing with what seemed curiosity.

“It’s just a fae lantern,” I said. “She’s harmless.”

“Well, get it away from me!” Tabitha cried, batting a paw at her.

The lantern shrank back and hopped past the hearth toward my bedroom.

Tabitha ground her paws against her eyes. “As if I need a light in my face right now.”

“You were about to say something about the smell?”

She muttered as she finished rubbing her eyes and settled back down. “Right before I drifted off, I caught the foulest stink of death.”

I leaned an arm against the stone mantel above the hearth and stared at the empty grate.

“Why?” Tabitha asked. “Does that mean something?”

“I picked up the same scent earlier. Something’s looking for me.”

“Going on the smell alone, I’d say better you than me.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, why not set a trap?”

I’d been considering the very idea, but I didn’t have the time or resources to spare right now. It was going to take everything I had to reach Crusspatch, and if that went well, to navigate the time catch.

Possibly a failing time catch.

Bree-yark reappeared from the kitchen with a steaming saucer. “One serving of goat’s milk.”

I added the potion absently, and set the saucer where Tabitha could lap it up without having to leave her perch.

“How soon can you be ready?” I asked Bree-yark as I stood again. I was thinking of all the time I’d already spent running around that morning while days and weeks were flipping by in the time catch.

“Just need to change and pack a small bag,” he said. “Twenty minutes?”

“Let’s make it fifteen.”

9

“It’s the only way?” Vega asked.

“It’s not ideal, I know,” I said into the phone. “But yeah, it’s what I’m left with.”

Bree-yark cocked an eye at me from behind the steering