Page 14 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

As we headed to the set of apartments to which Niamh had been assigned today, I whispered my account of the incident into her ear. Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull when I recounted what the King had said to me in the physician’s office, and even more when I admitted that Ewan and I had been more than acquaintances.

“It was quite obvious, but why didn’t you tell me about him?” she asked. We stood on the balcony, me holding tight to one end of a small rug. At the other end, Niamh beat it with a broom to free it of any dust. I shielded my nose and mouth with my sleeve as a small puff of it burst into the air.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “Maybe I was embarrassed. You have to admit that you’re a bit of a romantic. I wasn’t sure you would understand.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I assured her, smiling. “It was my choice.”

“I just can’t believe it was Ewan,” she said.

I cringed at the name, remembering too vividly the sound of his throat being ripped from his body.

“I just mean,” she continued, “he always seemed like such a nice boy.”

“Plenty of nice boys do fucked-up things.”

“I suppose. Do you think it’s because you didn’t want to marry him?”

I shot her a pointed look. “Ewan never asked me to marry him. We had an understanding.” It had crossed my mind that he had attacked me out of frustration because I’d turned him down earlier that evening, but it was so unlike him. I couldn’t fight the niggling feeling that there was more to our encounter than met the eye. I recalled the nearly invisible shroud that cloaked him in shadows, the jolting way in which he moved. Perhaps the King would be able to tell me what it was. If I could chalk up enough courage to ask.

“I just can’t believe it,” she said. “You realize how lucky you are, right?”

My brows shot toward my hair. “I don’t know if I’d call myself lucky, exactly.”

“Not about the Ewan thing. From what I’ve heard, the King doesn’t often wander into the city … but he just happened to be there when Ewan attacked. Oh, Finn …” Her eyes turned watery again. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks,” I said. We hauled the rug inside, closing the balcony doors behind us. Taking a seat on the windowsill, I prepared to scrub the glass clean. I dipped my hand into a bucket of soapy water, the bubbles tickling my fingers.

“What’s he like?” she asked, her voice low as if someone might be listening. “The King?”

“He’s …” I paused, not knowing where to begin. “Very polite.”

“Polite? After all that you’re going to tell me he’s polite? Finn, he rescued you from certain death at the hands of a crazed killer, asked you about your family, and invited you to meet with him in private. At night!”

My cheeks grew warm. “Vampires do everything at night!”

“You’re blushing!” she accused, causing my skin to burn hotter.

“Fine,” I groaned. “He’s more than polite.”

“Regal?” she offered, grinning. “Handsome?”

“I suppose,” I mumbled.

She squealed, the pitch so high I almost covered my ears. “Will you be quiet?” I scolded. “Mrs. Cathers will hear you from the kitchens.”

I reached for a dry rag, dragging it across the foamy windowpane until my reflection stared back at me.

“Finn?” came her voice after a few moments of silence. “Do you think Ewan is the one who took that other girl? The one Maxence mentioned?”

I paused. “I hadn’t even thought about that, to be honest.”

Niamh frowned. “It was my first thought. He could’ve been taking girls from all over the city all this time, and we just haven’t heard about it.”

I stared into the frothy water, lost in thought. According to Maxence, the girl had gone missing from a completely different neighborhood than where Ewan had cornered me. I had no idea who she was, or what she looked like. It could just be a coincidence. Niamh touched my arm delicately. “Are you alright?”

I nodded. “I was just thinking that I don’t know much about the girl who was taken. Except—”