Just as she opened her mouth to hiss at him to back off, a large, dark form appeared behind him, and her jaw clamped shut at the sight of Kirigan. She may have given him attitude the night before, but he still made her insides tight with fear. There was just something utterly disturbing about him, from his dark gaze down to his unsettling aura.

“Don’t argue with the Breeder, Kesh.” Kirigan moved easily past his son and walked toward her, fixing his terrifying eyes on hers. It was all she could do not to shrink back when he stopped right in front of her and placed a single finger under her chin to tilt her head up. “There is spark left in this one still. Do not seek to quell it.”

Kesh seemed to materialize by her side out of thin air, looming over her shoulder as if to press his father back a little with his presence.

“Kain left her for me to protect. I will care for her as I see fit. Father.” The last word was tacked on in a somewhat more demure tone when Kirigan lifted his unsettling gaze from her to his son.

“Indeed you will.” The hot finger finally moved from her chin, and despite how annoyed she was with Kesh, she was pretty thankful for his protection at that moment.

When he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her back a step and out of his father’s dark aura, she breathed a shaky, and embarrassingly audible, sigh of relief.

“Any news of Kain?” she asked.

Kirigan pursed his lips and finally stepped away. He headed toward a small wooden table hosting several bottles of expensive-looking liquor.

“Yes. My connections have managed to locate him. He is being held in a secure location up in Manitoba—far into their territory. Extracting him will be… challenging.”

Selma stared from him to Kesh. Hope surged in her chest, but Kirigan’s pause made her guess there was more to it than what he let on. “Challenging?”

“Nothing for you to concern yourself with, my dear. We will find a way.” He poured a measure of whiskey and sipped it calmly before turning back around. “However, there is one thing I would discuss with you.

“It’s a curious thing, really. My connections also said that one of the Prince’s lackeys was killed the night they took my son. Only he wasn’t killed by Kain. He was found several miles away, by the side of the road with scratch marks on his arms as if someone had tried to defend themselves against him. Someone small and weak.

“And, as if this wasn’t puzzling enough, his head was scattered across the road. As if it’d exploded. I believe you know him—Marathin. Marathin Hershey, your Procurer, according to the records.”

Oh.

Fuck.