Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) Bridgette O'Hare (ebook offline .txt) 📖

had written down from Uncle Lachlan the night before, and this little hostage excursion made a bit more sense. It also gave me a place to start the questioning process.

“So, Kage, we have an hour. Why don’t you tell me why finding the Kanna Stone is important to you?” Now that I was fairly certain he wasn’t going to kill me, rule number one in any hostage negotiation—let’s face it, that’s what this was—is get them to tell you their side of the story. Granted, I was both hostage and negotiator, but let’s not get bogged down on the details. I needed him to start talking.

After a moment of hesitation, he relented. I mean, every bad guy likes a good monologue, right?

“It’s important to me for the same reason it should be important to you. Bloodlines. We descend from the purest of bloodlines. Through the ages, the bloodlines have been contaminated. I intend to use the Kanna Stone to rectify the damage,” Kage explained.

The way he said it would have made a politician proud. He stated the problem, announced that the problem should upset me—you know, for guilt trip reasons, and swept in with his intention to correct the problem. However, the genius had recently kidnapped me, and that alone ruined his credibility. Add the fact that I didn’t believe his intentions were even a teensy bit honorable, and I was suddenly in a position that would put that hostage negotiation training to a very real test. He hadn’t said it outright, but I was certain he didn’t mean there was some crazy pathogen contaminating the bloodlines and he wanted to use the stone for its healing power. Not even close. So, time for rule number two. I had to pretend to be empathetic to his cause and try to develop a rapport in hopes that it would build a bit of trust. I needed that trust so I could create a window of opportunity to take his racist plot down. But back to the fake empathizing.

“I do like to rectify wrongs,” I stated. Which was accurate. “How is it you need my help?” See. I could sound quite empathetic when I wanted. I also opened the door for him to tell me his plan.

His eyes cut to the rearview and back to the road a few times. I knew this stage. He was trying to gauge my sincerity. After seven years of undercover work, he wasn’t going to break me in a matter of five minutes. I maintained a heartfelt expression and waited.

“I need you to translate an invocation.”

“An invocation?” I asked. “This invocation isn’t going to raise some army of the dead or start World War III, is it? Because I’m not a fan of zombies, and I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Part of that wasn’t entirely true. I am a fighter, only he doesn’t need to be reminded of that. It also might have been a little deceptive of me to bait him with the WWIII comment. I already knew, based on his reasons for wanting the Kanna Stone, that war was exactly what he had in mind.

His cheeks pushed his eyes up just enough for me to recognize his amusement. “No zombies. And I can’t imagine involving the entire world in matters of the Supernaturals.”

There was a possibility that he had no idea how out of control his plan could get. But it was still a plan to eradicate an entire group of people from existence, and that didn’t work out so well last time someone tried it. However, I didn’t intend to even give him a chance to get started. I’d die first.

“Where did the invocation come from? I’ll need to know its origins to know where to start in the translation process.”

The muscles in his shoulders tensed as he watched for my reaction. “Marom,” he said calmly.

I could only guess this was an attempt to see if I even knew what Marom was . . . or where. So, I played dumb, scrunching my nose and forehead like I’d never heard the word. “I’m not sure where that is.” Not a lie. I had no idea precisely where it was. “What language do they speak there?” I asked casually.

His shoulders fell. He bought my ruse.

“I’ll simply show it to you when we arrive,” he informed.

“Where might we be arriving?” I questioned, though I had a fairly good idea based on him having the directions that Cian had written down paperclipped to his map. He was heading for the Lunar Ruins.

“Seems to me you and Cian know that better than I do. You’re smart enough to know where we’re going,” Kage said. Doppelgänger Cian just held up the paper and waved it around a little. The fact that he looked like Cian, which was a little weird, was precisely where the similarities ended.

Something not written on Cian’s directions—Kage needed permission to enter the ruins, them being sacred and all, and he was not invited nor of the wolf variety. I recalled Uncle Lachlan’s warning and could only wonder what awaited us.

I contemplated my situation and admired the scenery as we drove, but my thoughts were cut short. Just after we turned onto a gravel path nearly concealed by an overhang of trees, a tire blew. Kage mumbled something incoherent. Oddly, I heard Cian’s voice in my head saying that everything happens for a reason. I found myself hoping that reason might be to give me a chance to get out of my current situation. But considering my hands were literally tied and we were God knows where in the middle of the White Mountains, making a run for it wasn’t exactly a promising option. We’d been on backwoods, mountain roads since I came to. There was nothing as far as I could see other than forest. And this time of year, I’d likely freeze during the night . . . if a wild animal didn’t get me first.

In other words, I was screwed.

Unless I