“One thousand seven hundred and thirty-three,” came a deep voice. Adrenaline exploded through my veins, shocking my system so badly that I nearly toppled sideways out of my seat. I twisted around, and there stood Kingfisher in a recessed reading alcove, bathed in shadows. Half of his body was concealed by a pool of darkness that was very out of place in the well-lit library. He studied his fingernails, that metal wolf-head gorget glinting at his throat. “What’s three years between family, though?” he said, shoving away from the wall and out into the light. “I’m sure it’s hard to keep track of
...more
