Page 48 of Consort's Glory
“And Angelique took notice,” Kaz surmised.
“Yes. A month later, she showed up at the Healing House with a scowl and a huge bag of take out.” Margot shook her head again, but this time she appeared baffled. “She comes by every few weeks with more food than I know what to do with and we talk for a while. She usually asks me about the weres I’ve seen, and I let her know if there are any that I think may need her help. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but…”
“You’re allies,” Theodore finished for her, not bothering to hide the note of admiration in his voice. Wryly, he added, “You’ve been here six months, and already you’ve made alliances with the alpha of the Merced pack and the unofficial leader of the weres. I’m beginning to feel slighted.”
Margot shifted uncomfortably. He could feel the stiffness in the muscles under his palm when she answered, “People like healers. I wasn’t trying to make any sort of alliance.”
He didn’t doubt that. Margot obviously had a shrewd mind, but nothing about her behavior implied she had any long-term political motives. That didn’t mean those connections would be useless, though.
Valen cleared his throat, a look of impatience deepening the lines around his mouth. “What did she say about the bomber?”
“Oh.” Margot licked her lips, her eyes flickering around the room until they landed on Theodore. He felt some of the tension leave her. Arching her brows, she said, “Angelique thinks she knows who made the bomb.”
“What? How? Where did she get that information?” No doubt it rankled something fierce to have his elite units of information gatherers and soldiers outdone by a scrappy woman who thumbed her nose at the law.
“From the bomb-maker directly,” Margot answered. “She wanted to know if I wanted to… ‘get my licks in’ before she made it so he couldn’t talk anymore.”
All three men snapped to attention, their slit pupils expanding to swallow up their irises as the promise of a hunt sank its teeth into their instincts. Theodore removed his hand from Margot’s back, afraid that his sudden tension might cause him to prick her delicate skin with his claw-caps. “She has him?”
“Yes. That’s why I thought you might want to know.”
Theodore’s blood thrummed with a different sort of fire. The thrill of the hunt, the driving need to protect his consort, the desire to get revenge on her behalf; all of it made his skin itch with the need to track and claw and tear.
Reaching down to gently haul Margot out of her seat by her upper arms, he ignored her squeak of protest and grinned down at her with all his deadly fangs. “Well, my darling witch,” he rasped, “what do you say we go mete out some justice together?”
