“Oh,” Celyn said to Éibhear as if he’d just spotted him. “Hello, cousin.”

“Celyn.”

Celyn’s grip must have tightened on Izzy’s ass because she squealed and slapped at his hands. “Stop that!” She jumped down and laughed, punching Celyn in the shoulder.

“Ow.”

“Did you come alone?” she asked.

“Fal came with me. He’s around somewhere.” He tapped the tip of her nose with his forefinger. “But I came looking for you. You all right?”

“Did you know? About the baby?”

“You know I would have told you if I had. I would have risked my mother’s wrath for you, my sweet Iseabail.”

Izzy rolled her eyes, not believing the lying bastard any more than Éibhear did. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“True enough, but would you have blamed me?”

“Not really. But I am glad you came.”

“Me too.”

Éibhear knew he couldn’t stand any more—not without throwing up first—so he gave a little wave. “I’m off,” he said.

“I thought we’d track down Brannie and go get something to eat together,” Izzy offered.

“Not right now. I have to be somewhere.”

“That’s too bad,” Celyn said. And, yeah, he looked completely destroyed by that.

But Éibhear wasn’t going to get into it here, now, with his cousin. He didn’t have to. He’d simply talk to Izzy tonight. She was still an innocent, that one, and she didn’t understand that she was getting in way over her head with his idiot cousin. But Éibhear would put a stop to that. Because he should. He was still her uncle, wasn’t he? Not by blood, of course, but he was her uncle. And because they weren’t raised together as uncle and niece, it would be easier for him to explain to her the way of things when it came to dragons like Celyn.

Until then, he’d get a few books, some food, and something from the local healer for this bloody headache that had tragically returned.

Ragnar had no idea where she was going, but he knew he had to follow. It was too frightening to think of the trouble she’d get into without him. And he could no longer escape the fact that he found Keita more entertaining than anyone else he’d known.

She was stalking after some human female, following from a distance.

Any time the human stopped and looked to see if she was being followed, Keita blended into the shadows of a building or into the crowd. After a while, Ragnar had to admit that she was very good at what she did, each day moving farther and farther away from the image he’d originally had of her as a dim-witted royal.

She abruptly stopped and held up her hand to halt him.

“What are we doing?” he finally had the chance to ask.

“She’s the slit that killed Bampour,” Keita replied in a whisper. “Now she’s here. It can’t be a coincidence.” She carefully looked around the corner of a building and gasped, glancing back at Ragnar.

“What?” he asked. “What is it?”

“I don’t believe him!”

“Who?”

Rather than answering as any logical dragon would do, she shot off, forcing Ragnar to follow her since he had no idea what she was up to. She slid to a stop in front of what appeared to be an old warehouse. She held the door with one hand, waited a few seconds, then snatched it open.

“Whore!” she accused, which Ragnar thought a little harsh since Keita didn’t actually know this woman. But when he stepped into the warehouse, he saw who the woman was standing with and knew that Keita was right.

Definitely a whore.

The Ruiner grabbed hold of the barmaid, dragging her in front of him to use as a shield.

“Protect me, Dana!” Gwenvael begged, and Ragnar could only hope he was joking. “Before this merchant of evil and her dim-witted henchman destroy us both!”

Ragnar went ahead and assumed that he was the dim-witted henchman.

“You whore,” Keita said again. “What about your mate? What will she say when she finds out?”

“You can’t tell her!” Gwenvael wailed. “She’ll kill us all! ”

“How can I not tell her the truth?” Keita argued. “How can I betray womankind everywhere?”

The woman pointed at Keita. “She’s the one who threw me out the window.”

Gwenvael stared down at his sister, his wailing and crying stopping instantly. Both brother and sister were performers, but Keita was much better at it. “You threw her out a window?” Gwenvael asked.

“I was saving the ungrateful goat’s life. Remind me next time not to bother. Honestly, if I’d known she was just one of your whores…” She certainly did toss that word around.

The woman stepped closer to Keita. “I am no whore, slag. And I knew I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“Perhaps, but you were too busy wiping that old man’s come off the inside of your thighs to have the time.”

Gwenvael snorted, and both he and his sister burst out laughing.

“Ignore us, Dana.” Gwenvael, wiping tears from his eyes with one hand, gave the confused human a coin pouch with the other. “As promised.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Eyeing Keita coldly, clearly seeing her as the bigger danger, the woman backed away until she got to a side door and slipped outside.

“I’m doubting she’ll be back,” Ragnar said.