Unbound

“Of course she did. It’s a bit sooner than I expected, but this was all inevitable, my dears.” Nyx twisted her hair up into a coil atop her head. Tendrils snaked down on either side. Stylists would have to work for the look she achieved in a moment—of course, glaistig hair was a living extension of the body, so that did help.

Nyx stepped between them and put one arm around Eavan and the other around Cillian. “If she needs a bedmate she might not kill—which she seems fixated on—you’ll be handy. It’s the most progress I’ve had with her, so I’m content. Now, let’s go see Daniel, so that matter can be put to rest, shall we?”

Eavan hesitated. “Grandmama? Do you think that’s it’s a good idea for all of us to go?”

Nyx’s laughter was unrestrained. She patted Eavan on the cheek and walked out the door.

They stood in Brennan’s living room, after having Nyx charm the doorman, a maid, and two security guards. Cillian wasn’t sure at all of the protocol. B&E wasn’t outside the parameters of his job, but murder usually required either a series of paperwork or immediate threat.

“Much easier to tread quietly when he covers the floor with this.” Nyx looked gleeful as she walked across the plush carpet. “Poor bastard won’t know what hit him.”

“He’s unnaturally tempting.” Eavan spoke softly. “There’s something off.”

“He plays with voodoo, dabbles in zombification, so he’s abuzz with energy, and you’re”—Nyx paused and looked askance at Cillian—“you’re hungry. The privilege of age, Eavan: I’m not starving or unsure.”

Eavan stood, examining an obsidian sculpture to avoid looking at Nyx or Cillian as she admitted, “I don’t like this.”

“Noted.” Nyx didn’t bother to hide her amusement. She looked around Brennan’s house like an antiques appraiser. “He has good taste.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Cillian repeated for the sixth time. Unfortunately, after the second time, Nyx ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken aloud. Cillian wasn’t exactly sure why she even allowed them to come along. He did, however, know what he was doing there. Months of work would be wasted if Brennan was murdered. Admittedly, it would be satisfying. Having criminals simply arrested sometimes felt anticlimactic, but having them murdered before they revealed the information he needed to proceed on his case was a trouble of a different sort.

He tried again: “Unless he has records here, this will stall the whole investigation…Nyx!” He turned to Eavan. “Can she hear me?”

This time, though, Nyx paused. “He’s selling mortals. It upsets Evvie, and she’s behaving foolishly. He’s moving drugs that are causing you complications. If I kill him, she’ll be happier; your employer will have resolved a drug flow. I can always use a snack. Where’s the downside?”

Then she sashayed across the room and into Brennan’s bedroom, humming softly. She left the door wide open, so they could see her when she stopped beside a massive glass-block pedestal bed. With a wicked grin, she watched Cillian as she lifted one side of her skirt. He couldn’t look away—or stop the sound of shock. Her legs were not those of a human: they were muscular and furred like an animal’s legs.

“Told you that you didn’t want all of those questions answered, Cillian,” she said as she pulled out her hairpins. Her hair was writhing around her shoulders like angry serpents.

He took a step backward.

Eavan reached out and squeezed his hand. “We should look for his files.”

Brennan stirred as Nyx straddled him. The sheet was only partially covering him; his upper body was bare. His hands were under the pillow beneath his head.

“Wake up, Mr. Brennan.” Nyx sounded cheerful. “We have to chat.”

“Who—”

“Shhh.” Nyx put a finger over his mouth. “My dears, perhaps you could close the door before you go looking for whatever documents you needed? Daniel and I need some privacy, don’t we, dear?”

Cillian didn’t speak as Eavan pulled the door shut, closing in the two predators. He wasn’t sure which of them was worse. Good and evil weren’t always clearly delineated. Nyx intended to kill Daniel Brennan; Brennan drugged and sold people. Is it monstrous to kill a monster? Is Nyx evil? He wished, briefly, that his childhood catechism held up under such questions. It didn’t. Moral relativity made clear that black-and-white questions weren’t realistic in the world Cillian saw.

The world these people…creatures…all see, too.

“Come on, Cillian,” Eavan said gently. “It’s easier if you don’t think about it.”

“For whom?”

“For all of us.” She gave him a rueful smile. “That’s my family. My blood. And she’s about to kill him.”