“Charlie was caught with a stolen purse. There were witnesses.” Witnesses I would be taking care of as soon as I finished here. After the trial yesterday, I’d followed them to the pub, then to their houses, which were conveniently located at the edge of the O’Meara estate.
Her curls slipped over her shoulders when she shook her head. “You don’t get it. He didn’t steal it. I did.”
Truth.
Feckin’ hell . . . The person Charlie had been trying to protect was Aveen.
I created a tost so no one could hear us. “Tell me exactly what happened.” If this was her fault, then I’d be the one taking her life. For some reason, the idea of exacting justice didn’t delight me as much as it usually did.
She inhaled a shaky breath and swiped at her tears with the back of a trembling hand. “I asked Eithne about you, and she said awful things and made me so bloody angry. So, I-I . . . I blackmailed her.”
Hold on. This innocent human had blackmailed someone? I had to admit, I was sort of impressed.
“I took her purse and gave it to the grogoch—to Charlie,” she went on, her voice breaking. “I thought he could use the coins and . . .Oh god. I’m going to be sick.”She jerked away, bracing her hands on the plaster wall and heaving onto the ground.The smell of sick nearly left my own breakfast on the stones next to hers.
I shifted a handkerchief, doing my best not to breathe through my nose as I ordered her to take it and go home. The truth wouldn’t help Charlie now.
“I c-can’t,” she said. “I have to collect Keelynn’s dress.”
“Tell me where it is, and I will collect it for you.”
She didn’t answer, just pressed a cheek to the gritty wall and closed her eyes. I didn’t have time for this. I needed to get back to the gallows and then head over to the O’Meara estate. “Is it at Meranda’s?”
“I don’t want your help.”
She may not have wanted my help, but she was going to get it. “Don’t make me threaten you.” How the hell was she going to get home if she could barely stand? She needed a lift. I disbanded the tost and shifted Ruairi from where I’d left him this morning. The brute appeared in the alley, still in his horse form, which saved me a headache.
I caught Aveen’s hand and led her toward Ruairi. “Get out of here before you get sick all over my boots.”
She resisted like usual, muttering about her coachman.
I told her I’d handle it. What was one more thing added to my never-ending list? I lifted the infernal woman onto the saddle and told the pooka where to take her. There wasn’t much time. I had to get back to the gallows now.
Ruairi took off, Aveen clutching his reins for dear life.
I sprinted from the alley straight to the dais, dodging the humans who lingered. A murder of crows had already gathered on the wooden beam where the bodies swung. I went to Molls first, but when I caught her cold foot, there was nothing there to syphon. Biting back a curse, I tried the grogoch. Nothing.
That feckin’ human had cost me dearly.
Darkness swelled with each step I took up the cobbled street. Witches were cunning and rarely caught. Molls’ power could’ve been mine. My trembling hands flexed at my sides. It should’ve been mine, but now it was gone.
Hadn’t I learned my lesson about letting emotion get the better of me?
I should’ve let the woman suffer the consequences for her actions.
A hunched man with white whiskers and a weathered face waited on the bench at the front of the carriage, parked in the same spot it had been on the night Aveen had learned my name. When I approached, he looked up from the ham sandwich clutched between his dirty hands.
“Lady Aveen asked me to give ye a message,” I said in the weak, whimpering voice I’d settled on for this character—Mr. Paul McLoughlin, a farmer from down the coast. “She said that she will meet ye back at her father’s estate.”
The driver set his sandwich aside and climbed down from his perch with surprising agility for a man of such advanced years. “And why should I believe ye, stranger?”
“Don’t. I could care less. Wait here all night if ye want. Either way, she won’t be comin’.”
I went to turn, but the old man caught my arm in an iron grip, yanking me back around. “What’ve ye done with milady? If ye’ve harmed her, I swear—” His blue eyes bounced between mine, suddenly widening. “You.” He jerked back, scrubbing a hand down his faded overcoat.
He couldn’t know who I was.
Except, from the way his face paled, I had a sinking feeling that he did.