Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,1

or the cost. There was certainly a scarily high number of them out there—and they were in all levels of the government, given just how many of our attempts to track down and question those involved in this mad plot had gone sideways.

Of course, I wasn’t about to directly confront him about the sword, but I had no intention of letting him entirely off the hook, either.

Because Darkside is not a united place, and there are a number of factions at work here. Some are friendlier than others when it comes to agreements made.

At least he was no longer affronting my intelligence by denying he was working with them.

Well color me surprised, I sent back and added a couple of shocked emojis. It’s fucking Darkside. They’ll eat you up and spit you out when they’re finished with you, brother.

Gwen, you don’t understand what I’m trying to achieve.

Oh, I believe I do.

Look, I haven’t the time to explain right now, but there are reasons. Good reasons. But for now, you need to get out.

Why?

They’re coming for you. You have five minutes, if that.

My gaze darted to the knives. Nex and Vita remained inert, but that didn’t mean trouble wasn’t about to hit. It just meant this time it wasn’t demons.

But even as that thought crossed my mind, a faint flicker of lightning ran down Nex’s blade.

I swore and quickly typed, then call them off!

Not my faction. Move. Leave.

Max!

No response.

I tossed the blankets off and scrambled out of bed. A storm raged outside, and the night was chilly. I shivered my way into jeans and a sweater before shoving on socks and boots.

The flickers down Nex’s side grew brighter.

I raced over to the window and slid it open. The wind whipped in, full of ice. The shivers got stronger, but I leaned out. No one moved in the small courtyard below; no shadows lurked near the metal bin or moved down the lane beyond the fence line.

I had no idea what was coming at us, but it wasn’t doing so from this direction. Which was good, as it at least gave us a safe escape route.

I moved back to the bed and shoved my hand under the pillow to retrieve the simple leather pouch I’d hidden there earlier. Though its weight told me its contents were safe, I nevertheless wasted several valuable seconds undoing the drawstrings then upending the pouch. The ring that tumbled into my hand was dominated by a huge red ruby onto which a cross and a rose had been carved. This was no ordinary ring, but rather, the Witch King’s coronation ring. If Vivienne were to be believed—and, in all honesty, who in their right mind would ignore the words of a very old goddess? —it was the only way to find Elysian, the Witch King’s real sword.

As stone met skin, a bloody fire pulsed to life deep in the ruby’s heart and quickly fell into a rhythm that matched the rapid beating of my heart.

That pulse was recognition. Acceptance. Proof that I was the true heir despite the fact that never before in the history of our people had a woman claimed either the sword or the crown.

It was a fate I certainly wished had passed me by, but one I had no choice but to accept. Elysian was the only means of truly defeating and containing the dark army’s might.

I shoved the ring back into the pouch, then carefully tucked it into my bra, under my left breast. It was a little uncomfortable, but as hiding places went, it was one of the better ones. A strip search would of course find it, but a regular pat down or emptying of pockets would not.

Why instinct thought such an action might happen in my near future was something I didn’t dwell on.

I shoved my phone into my pocket, strapped on the knife belt, then grabbed Nex and Vita and left the room. The wind tugged at the tarps covering the roof in my bedroom, and the flapping echoed through the stillness. I stepped into the room and raised Nex. Her bright light pushed away the shadows, highlighting both the hole in the floor and the one above. Nothing cut through the heavy canvas, and there was no sign of magic other than the multiple spells protecting this place.

Which left only one option for an attack—the front door.

I padded down the stairs, wincing a little as the floorboards creaked. Like most of the buildings in this section of