I was seriously hoping Darby—an elven healer I’d met at school and who’d been pining after Lugh for as long as I could remember—was about to change all that. Especially now she was aware he really was attracted to her.

If it was a big brother’s lot in life to protect his little sister, then it was the little’s sister job to ensure her brother did not end up a lonely old man.

Not that he or I could in any way be termed old. We pixies tended to live almost as long as elves.

I walked over to the kettle and flicked it on—Lugh refused to have a coffee machine on the grounds it was a waste of money when he never spent that much time here—and then headed to his fridge. It contained a small bottle of milk, a few apples, half a loaf of bread, and some cheese growing a colorful array of mold. “When was the last time you did a proper shop?”

“Shopping hasn’t been on my list of priorities over the last few days.” He tugged out his phone. “Order pizza while I contact Sgott.”

I did so, then made a quick call to Ingrid, telling her I wouldn’t be in tomorrow and asking if she’d be able to step in. Thankfully, she was more than happy to do so.

After I made a pot of tea, I placed it on a tray with two mugs and a small jug of milk on the cusp of useability, then carried it over to the wide stone coffee table that dominated the space between the two sofas.

From what I could hear of the conversation, it seemed Sgott wasn’t taking the news of our latest escapade too well.

No surprise there.

“Told you we should have lied.” I placed the strainer over the first mug, then picked up the pot and poured the tea.

He shoved the phone away and dropped onto the sofa opposite. “If he’d found out later—and he would have, given his nose for lies—it would have been worse.”

I picked up the milk and poured some into my mug. It didn’t curdle, so that was a bonus. “I take it he’s going to speak to Kaitlyn first thing?”

He nodded. “He said he’s already given her one warning, so this time, he’ll haul her into the station, just to remind her no one is above the law.”

“That won’t help, given what he’s said about the strength of her lawyers.” I took a sip of tea. “How are they going interviewing the relatives of the five women attacked by the Annwfyn?”

“No luck. They’ve talked to Cynwrig’s other cousins, but Jalvi’s parents and siblings have gone missing, and apparently no one knows how to contact them.”

Cynwrig was a dark elf and co-heir to the Myrkálfar throne, and Jalvi another cousin. Her sister, Telyn, had been one of the victims in the Annwfyn attack that had started this whole Claws mess.

Of course, while Cynwrig might be heir to the throne, he wasn’t a crown prince but rather “just” a lord. That was because, technically, there was no such thing as elven kings these days, as they’d been forced to swear allegiance to the “true” and very human royal line after they—and most of the fae—had lost the great war eons ago.