Mists of Velvet

yet asked her to envision your half brother.” Cailleach shrugged elegantly. “Perhaps if I were assured of your full cooperation . . .”
    “I gave you my bloody word,” he snarled. “Don’t fuck with me, Cailleach.”
    Her gaze turned murderous. “Do not speak in that common way to me, Raven. This is a holy temple, not that filthy mortal club, Velvet Haven. If in no other place, you will respect my position here.”
    “I do not give my word lightly. Do not question it again.”
    They stared at each other for long moments—adversaries more than corulers. The feelings of mistrust and anger simmered, making Bronwnn’s breath catch.
    “As to Carden, I will set my handmaiden to the task. Her visions are reliable, so if she sees something, you can be assured it is the right path to follow.”
    “Thank you.”
    Nodding, Cailleach rose elegantly from her throne and walked around the long table to stand before the hearth. It was cold in the chamber, and the goddess rubbed her hands together, her rings glimmering in the flickering firelight as she used her magick to make the fire grow warmer.
    She was stunningly beautiful, standing in the warm glow. A vision of such majestic, ethereal beauty. But beneath the stunning veneer lay a cold and powerful woman bent on revenge.
    “Perhaps you might consider an alternate, in case Carden is not found?”
    “He’ll be found.”
    With a sigh, Cailleach turned and met the king’s gaze. “With you, that is only three. What of the other six?”
    “Suriel, of course.”
    The queen’s expression blackened. “I forbid it. A fallen angel? No, absolutely not. I will not have him or his kind in Annwyn.”
    “I need him as a bridge between Annwyn and the mortal realm. His knowledge of the mortals is invaluable.”
    “It is very dangerous to involve him in our matters. His allegiance is to himself.”
    “I concur, but there is nothing else that can be done. I need Suriel, whether we trust the bastard or not.”
    “I don’t.”
    The king nodded once. “Nor do I, but the truth is, this is a matter that threatens not only our world. The mortal realm is also at stake.”
    “Can he be relied upon? I doubt it. Do you even know where he is?” Cailleach demanded. “Hiding, no doubt, like the snake he is.”
    “Mairi knows.”
    “Tread carefully, Raven, for I sense deception on Suriel’s part. His motivation is not clear. His role in your mate’s life is most perplexing, and I am not afraid to say it worries me.”
    Cocking his brow, the king drawled, “Why do you suppose I want him nearby? I believe in the adage, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”
    “The last time an angel was in Annwyn,” Cailleach said with a shudder, “it was catastrophic.”
    “You have my word that I will keep Suriel in check.”
    “And the others, will you be able to keep them in check?”
    “I’m certain. I’ve picked those I feel I can trust, and who can add the most to our search.”
    “And who would they be?”
    “Sayer, for his ability to use Enchantment magick. Keir, who is well versed in divination. As a Shadow Wraith, he also has invaluable reconnaissance abilities. I’ve also enlisted Drostan, the griffin with the power of summoning, and Melor, the phoenix. He has great fighting skills, and he is also familiar with necromancy.”
    Cailleach whirled on him. “Allow me to get this straight. Your sacred nine consist of a mortal female, a stone gargoyle, an unscrupulous Selkie who practices his magick to seduce the opposite sex, a fallen angel with dubious loyalties, a firebird with a link to the very evil we are trying to defeat, and a griffin who is nothing but a mercenary for hire?”
    “Exactly. Drostan’s summoning magick is so valuable that, if pressed, I will pay him in whatever currency he desires. We need him.”
    “I forbid this—this motley assortment of so-called warriors. There is not one elf or sprite or nymph among them. You’ve overlooked very powerful allies.”
    “Nay, I haven’t. I’ve banded together warriors whose magick controls all the elements, air, fire, water, and earth, as well as all facets of magick. And as for Melor and his ties to necromancy, we need him to help us fully understand the Dark Arts. To know your enemy, Cailleach, is sometimes to become like him.”
    “This is madness.”
    “This is strategy.” Crossing his leg over his knee, the king contemplated the goddess. “What do you fear,