What’s wrong with him? Ashk wondered as Liam offered her a sickly smile and gestured for her to take the chair in front of his desk. He took his seat and placed his clasped, white-knuckled hands on the desk.
“I’m sorry to trouble you with this, but I have to ask. I have to be certain. And since this concerns the Fae…” He pressed his lips together.
Ashk suppressed the urge to rub her forehead to ease the headache building there. “Liam, if you’re trying to tell me some of the Fae have taken…liberties…with some of the girls who live around here—”
“No,” Liam said quickly. “No, it’s nothing like that.” He offered another sickly smile. “Truth be told, I think the girls are a little disappointed that there haven’t been any offers to take moonlit walks. Of course, the girls don’t realize that the thought of having to deal with you, Selena, or Breanna afterward has pretty much stifled the urge for romance—among the human army as well as the Fae.”
“I understand why they’d be nervous about me or Selena, but why Breanna?”
Liam winced. “Stories travel. You know how it is. And the Fae…Well, from what Varden and Falco told me, they all figure that any witch who would threaten to shoot the Lightbringer when he appeared interested in a girl wouldn’t hesitate to shoot any of them.”
Ashk shook her head and smiled. “I’m sorry I missed seeing that.” Then she sighed. “Whatever the problem is, Liam, just tell me.”
“There are Fae who are predators in their other form,” Liam said carefully.
“Yes, there are.”
“And those predators might do some hunting while they’re here.”
“They might.”
“They might hunt people.”
Ashk tensed. Her voice chilled. “Say what you have to say, Baron.”
Liam took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. “Two young children are missing from outlying farms. At first, their families thought they’d wandered off, saw something intriguing among the trees and followed it. They reported it to the guards who make a daily round to all the farms and estates, and there was a search. But when the children weren’t found…”
“People started wondering if the Fae might have indulged in a quick hunt—or had taken the children for some other reason,” Ashk finished for him.
“Yes.”
“Well,” Ashk said after a long silence, “I understand why they would ask the question.”
Liam looked slightly alarmed. “You do?”
Ashk gave in and rubbed her forehead. “I’m a mother, Liam. I have two children. If one of them was missing, I’d wonder about the Fae, too, but for a different reason. Or, perhaps, for the same reason.” When she saw no comprehension in his eyes, she sighed. “If one of the Fae in the form of a predator killed those children, it is only the bodies that are gone. The loved one will go to the Summerland and return to the world one day. There’s a comfort in that. But if it was a different kind of predator that took those children…”
“Nighthunters,” Liam said, turning pale.
Ashk nodded. “If I were the mother of either of those children, I’d rather wonder about the Fae than consider the other possibility. There is no hope in the other possibility. When the nighthunters feast, there is no spirit left to gather, no one to take to the Shadowed Veil.”
“Mother’s mercy,” Liam whispered. “I know that. I’ve talked to Fae who have encountered nighthunters. Breanna and I were attacked by them. But I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
Ashk pushed herself out of the chair. “We found the nest of nighthunters we scented, and the creatures have been killed and burned. I’d just gotten back when I got your message. I can’t say with certainty, but hopefully that was all of them that remained around Willowsbrook. If any more appear…Well, there are plenty of Fae around here now who can detect the scent. We’ll hope we can detect them before they do any harm. As for the children, I’ll send some of the winged Fae out to search. A hawk can see a great deal more than any of us can see on foot.”
Liam stood. “Thank you, Hunter.”
She shook her head. “Thank me when we’ve found the children. You didn’t say how old they were.”
“Young. Two or three years.”
Children, Ashk thought as she went upstairs to wash up and indulge in an hour’s rest. Toddlers, really. Old enough to scamper off in pursuit of a butterfly in a meadow or a fawn glimpsed in the woods. Caitlin had done it to her once. Had wandered off during a moment when her attention had been required elsewhere. She and the Clan had searched for a frantic day before she’d found her girl in a fox’s den, sound asleep with the kits snuggled around her, all of them being guarded by a very confused vixen.
She could wish for something that simple. Hope for something so screamingly normal. But she knew in her gut it wasn’t simple or normal. So she was left with the question of what had happened to two small children—just as she was left with the question of what had happened to Jean.