CAGED (#3, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 100

I held back a groan. I suspected this day would come. All the representatives of the Houses were present at the Wychthorns' temple when my brave little sister distracted Urstlo from Nelle, who was cracking under the pressure to keep her wyrm contained and hidden. Ferne had confronted Mistress Lyressa, who'd stolen her eyes simply because they were pretty, to redirect everyone's attention away from Nelle and toward her.

"They're saying if Mistress Lyressa was present at the car crash, then perhaps your mother was..." Mela rounded her eyes and pointedly let the words drift apart. She didn't need to say the word, other, I understood. The Houses were beginning to understand why my mother had been killed. "What they're curious about is how the rest of your family survived."

Fair enough. As decreed, any family harboring an other was annihilated. "The Horned Gods accepted her sacrifice for our lives. They owed us for the Final War." And everything else that came with it, when we'd regathered the survivors that had scattered worldwide and reformed the Houses. Our footsteps were light and our clouded breath wisped away as we made our way through the twisting tunnel. Mela heaved a sigh through her nose as she chewed on the corner of her mouth, deep in thought. A moment later she grimaced in apology, glancing at me beneath heavy lashes. "I didn't know about your mother."

I shrugged and whispered back, "No one knew." Until of course, someone did. Byron Wychthorn. And then he betrayed her to Sirro and my mother was claimed.

We rounded a corner and climbed a series of steps. The passageway grew taller and wider. Once again, the lesser creature's interest stirred. Yezekael turned his neck to shoot another curious glance over his shoulder. This time there was something else swimming in his gaze, something I wasn't quite sure how to identify. "What the fuck's up with you?"

"Which House are you from?" he asked in that strangely sandy-metallic voice.

"Does it matter?"

"Just whiling away my time. What harm could it bring to know?"

I flashed a menacing grin full of teeth. "House Crowther." My grin faltered and unease fell like icy flakes through my chest to settle in the pit of my guts. My spine stiffened at the spark of recognition shining in his eyes. I jutted my chin out in a churlish manner, my fingers tightening on my wyrm dagger in silent threat. "What?"

He twisted forward and a rusty laugh croaked from his throat. The gray feathers cloaking his body shimmied as his shoulders and wings shook, his laughter growing louder and more hearty. I knew he was baiting me, taunting me, firmly putting me into a position of diminished power. He knew I'd be needful, desperate to learn why he was amused at my expense. Though the longer he laughed the more I began to realize it was soaked in near-hysteria. The rusty sound died away and he muttered low, "Of course, he would ask you to find me."

Mela snarled, surging forward. Flipping over the dagger she'd palmed, she rammed the rounded pommel into his back, right between his wings. Yezekael cried out in pain and staggered forward, cursing and wincing. "What the hells do you mean by that?"