Wild Knight (Midnight Empire: The Tower #1)(57)

The prince studied the map. “If your theory is correct, Davina isn’t far from here. I’m glad Mother can’t see this. Most of the map is taken up by Kings College. She’d simply argue Davina is partying with friends.”

I stiffened, two words hitting me like a brick.

The prince noticed my reaction. “What is it?”

It hadn’t been a wizard on that rooftop. It had been a druid. Who was more likely to conduct experiments than an academic? He hadn’t teleported off that rooftop near Waterloo Bridge like the bald wizard with the sun tattoo. He’d used air magic to cloak himself. The druid had still been there when I entered the ring of fire. He simply waited to emerge from his air cocoon until the fire was extinguished and I’d left the scene.

I felt like an idiot.

“I know who has Davina.”

His nostrils flared. “Tell me.”

“Who do the history books associate with sacrificial rituals?”

His eyes became two hard emeralds. “Druids.”

Lucy, the young woman from the excavation site at St. Paul’s, had been the university student who’d purchased the wolfsbane from Marguerite. There was no stalker. Dashiell had been clever enough to send an intermediary to collect the wolfsbane that he was using to neutralize Davina’s powers. My guess was that Lucy had no idea what the wolfsbane was really for. He’d instructed her to acquire it by covert means and she’d complied. The intern was simply one of his tools, like a spade or a trowel.

“It’s Dashiell. He’s on the team that’s excavating St. Paul’s Cathedral. Guess where he works?”

“Kings.” Callan frowned. “He was there when we were attacked at the site.”

“Yes.” We might have defended the very druid responsible for this mess. The notion sickened me. I’d been sloppy and that wasn’t me. Then again, the group of wizards attacked first.

“Druids are meant to be healers not killers,” Callan said.

“Maybe now they are, but he saw an opportunity to reclaim his species’ former glory and he took it.” Give them one chance to regain the powers lost to their kind and they grabbed it with both hands, never mind the literal sacrifice involved.

Callan shot to his feet. “I’ll send our security team to sweep the area. If they have to burn down the entire university to find her, then so be it.”

I stood and put a hand on his arm. “No.”

His gaze drifted to my hand before returning to my eyes and remaining there. “No?” he asked, drawing out the word in a way that made me want to check if my will was updated.

My magic strained to escape and I forced myself to remain calm as I removed my hand. “If you send an army charging in there, he won’t hesitate to kill her. If we go in there on our own, quietly, we can use both surprise and stealth to our advantage.” I paused. “And we both know you can do stealth.”

“Even better than me, brother?”

I balked at the sight of Prince Maeron in the doorway. The sneaky bastard had walked right into the townhouse without either of us noticing.

“What are you doing here, Maeron?”

“Davina is my sister too. If there’s a rescue to be made, I insist on taking part.”

“So much for stealth,” I mumbled. Maeron seemed to invite a parade wherever he went. He was like his mother in that respect.

“There’s no House Lewis army outside, is there?” I asked.

Maeron held up his hands. “No army. I won’t even tell Mother and Father, although Mother does seem to be starting to worry. This morning she asked if I’d had any updates about Davina and didn’t even mention the stone.”

“You attended Kings,” Callan said. “If you were going to hide a vampire there, where would you do it?”

Maeron rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. “I have a few ideas.”

I tucked away my phone. “You can tell us what they are on the way over.”

The sooner we rescued Davina and found the stone, the sooner I returned to my life deep in the shadows and reduced the risk of discovery. I’d spent too much time in the company of vampires this week. I needed to finish the job and put distance between myself and the royal family—as far as I could possibly get.





17





The buildings that comprised Kings College were mainly along the Strand. We followed Maeron who was busy reeling off a list of possibilities as we walked.

“I would start with the King’s building,” the prince said. “It’s centrally located.”

“Wouldn’t that be the last place to hold a hostage?” I asked.

Maeron’s gaze flicked to his brother. “Not if they want to make a statement to the hostage.”

We entered the classic, well-preserved building.

“What’s here?” Callan demanded.

Maeron pointed. “There’s the Great Hall.”

A large sign across the bottom of the grand double staircase barred our entry to the second floor. Under construction? Fat chance.

“What’s upstairs?” I asked.

Maeron scratched the back of his head in a thoughtful gesture. “The chapel.”

I pivoted to face him. “I thought Queen Britannia destroyed all the churches except Westminster Abbey.”