“It looks like a giant bell.”

“It is a giant bell,” said Viggo. “Big Ben is the nickname for the bell and for the clock tower that holds it.” He gave Sinjin a sharp look. “Tell them.”

Sinjin closed the pizza box. “The whole area around Big Ben has been roped off for days. It’s under construction. Closed for repairs.”

Luc was eyeing the broker curiously, as though he’d seen something odd in the tattoos that stretched across the back of his neck. “The witches must have set up Big Ben as their base of operations,” he said.

“So what do we do?” Beau said. “Blow it up?”

“Oooh.” Cricket’s eyes glittered.

“That wouldn’t work,” Luc said. “You can’t destroy something that cannot be destroyed. We can only hope to contain the Noirceur again in a new vessel. Something extremely unique. Something highly protected. But first we’d have to gather every clock in the city and consolidate them all in a single location. Then, maybe, we could trap it for good.” His eyes glistened. “That would take powerful magic.”

Cricket continued to whisper. Her voice was getting hoarse, and the snowfall came in jerky waves. She couldn’t maintain the spell forever.

Anouk turned to Jak. “How do we get the witches to consolidate their power? We’d need to threaten them with a whole army of magic handlers, Goblins and Royals and witches on our side, but none of them can enter London.”

Jak reached out and stroked her cheek. “That, lovely, is a riddle not even I can answer.”

Sinjin laughed. “I like you, beasties, but you’ll be lucky to make it through the night.” He popped a piece of pepperoni in his mouth and added, “Especially not this night. It’s cursed. Two moons. By tomorrow, there’ll probably be five.”

Luc stopped pacing. His hand fell away from his chin as a look of dawning realization crossed his face. “Five moons?” Then, to everyone’s surprise, he turned on Sinjin and said it again. “Five moons.”

The broker appeared confused. It wasn’t lost on Anouk, though, that he picked up his hare and was now very gradually moving toward the door.

Luc’s expression turned hard. “I knew there was something odd about your tattoos. No self-respecting hacker would get zeros and ones tattooed on his neck; that’s advertising you’re a criminal. Not unless you were trying to cover up other tattoos.”

Now Sinjin glanced at the steps that led to the door, but he was smiling oddly, trying to play it off. “I don’t follow.” His hand went to his ear, and he toyed with the ruby stud there.

Luc was moving to block the exit as stealthily as Sinjin was moving toward it. “London witches are known for tattooing their marks on their boys,” Luc continued. “Parisian witches think it’s crass—?Viggo used to talk about it, didn’t you, Viggo? You wanted a tattoo but Mada Vittora would only ever let you get temporary ones. But it’s tradition here in London. Your tattoos aren’t zeros, are they? Before you covered them up to look like zeros, they were moons. A row of five moons. The symbol of the Worm Moon Witch. The leader of the Coven of Oxford. You’re her witch’s boy.”

“That’s a lie!” Sinjin’s fist was tight on his ruby earring now, his knuckles white. He turned to Cricket, who was sweating, struggling to keep up the snow spell. “Use a truth spell on me. I’ll prove it. Ask me if I’m a witch’s boy and I’ll be compelled to tell you the truth.”

Anouk stood straighter. At her engagement party, Luc had told her that the traitor was someone who shared a roof with witches. They’d been afraid it was Viggo or Rennar.

“Luc,” Hunter Black said quietly. “We researched all the Coven’s associates back in Paris. There were records of the witches’ boys in Castle Ides. They’re all accounted for. Five boys for five witches. None of them are Sinjin.”

Luc’s gaze was steady. “A count from the Court of the Woods once whispered in my ear that truth spells are nothing but a clever trick. Use a truth spell and then ask you? You would tell us honestly that you aren’t her boy. But you were. How long ago did she cast you out for a younger boy?”

Sinjin’s fingers toyed hard at the stud in his ear; he almost looked like he was twisting it off. Awareness of danger flashed in his eyes. He kept darting gazes toward the blocked doorway.

Luc folded his arms across his chest. “Your gloves aren’t a fashion statement, are they? They’re hiding scars on your inner elbow. Bloodletting scars from your time as her witch’s boy.”

Viggo’s hand drifted mechanically to his own inner elbow.

>

“In Paris, there were rumors of a traitor. No one thought to consider a Pretty.”

Anouk pressed a hand to her head. It was making sense now, but so fast that she couldn’t hold it all in her mind at once. “The party!” When they all stared at her, she explained in a rush, “The broken hourglass—?that’s how the Coven got into my engagement party. How King Kaspar was possessed.”

Cricket shook her head. “The hourglass was a Parisian timepiece and the witches only awakened the Noirceur in London ones.”

Anouk turned on Sinjin. “You brought it from London with you, didn’t you? You knocked it over intentionally. Pretended to spill sand on King Kaspar and Mia. It was a trap. Anyone who physically touches the sand could be possessed. You were working for the Coven.”

The broker’s smile came quick and mean. In the next second, three things happened:

First, Cricket stopped whispering so she could pull her blades.

Tags: Megan Shepherd Grim Lovelies Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net