Trinity Rising: Book Two of the Wild Hunt (Wild Hunt Trilogy 2) by Elspeth Cooper Read Free Book Online

enough to rattle the china in the ugly breakfront cabinet. The woman flinched and the child in her arms began to grizzle.
    ‘I’m afraid I must insist you stay.’
    Fear rolling off her, she stared at him with eyes wide as a trapped animal’s. The room froze, became so utterly still that Savin could hear the candlewicks hiss as they burned.
    ‘Where’s Cally?’ Even allowing for the dread weighing it down, the woman’s voice was unexpectedly lovely.
    ‘The maid? She’s in the kitchen.’ He scooped up some more trifle. ‘Did she make this? It’s really very good.’
    ‘Please tell me you haven’t hurt her!’
    Savin shot her his most dazzling smile, the one that usually set society ladies’ fans fluttering. ‘She’s in no pain, I assure you. Now, I’d like you to tell me why Alderan was here, and where he was going.’
    ‘Who?’ The man was frightened now, judging by the over-firm tone, the white knuckles on the handle of the carving knife. The rise and fall of his waistcoated breast betrayed how fast he was breathing. ‘I don’t know that name.’
    ‘But you know his face.’ A flick of fire-Song sculpted Alderan’s likeness from one of the candle flames, bristle-browed and leonine.
    ‘You’re mistaken,’ the fellow insisted. ‘I’ve never seen him before.’
    ‘Mama, who’s that man over there?’ asked one of the children, a boy by its clothes, though at that age the piping voices all sounded the same. His mother hugged the brat on her lap closer and fumbled for the other child’s hand.
    ‘A . . . friend,’ she managed, voice brittle as first frost.
    Savin dropped a broad wink for the benefit of the boy.
    ‘Yes, I’m a friend of your father’s.’
    ‘Have you come for supper?’
    He laughed indulgently. ‘Something like that. Why, would you like me to stay?’
    At once the hairs on his scalp lifted as someone in the room reached for the Song. He glanced across the table as the couple’s carefully muted colours flared into brilliance, all subterfuge abandoned.
    ‘There’s no need for that,’ he said.
    The man flung down the carving knife and bunched his hands into fists. ‘Get out of my house,’ he growled.
    Savin clicked his tongue. ‘That’d be a shame, just when we’re starting to get to know each other.’
    Wrapped in the Song, he felt their weavings begin. The woman snatched her children against her skirts beneath a shield as her husband launched fists of air in Savin’s direction. A flick of his own power turned the blows aside; another smashed the man backwards into the breakfront, shattering the glazed doors. Display plates tumbled from their stands and flew into pieces as they hit the floor.
    ‘Egan!’ The woman yelped her husband’s name. To his credit he recovered quickly, shook broken glass from his hair and lunged for the table. His hand closed around the hilt of the carving knife.
    ‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ said Savin softly, power thrumming through him. The knife came up, greasy blade glinting, and he exhaled irritably. People never listened.
    A thought trapped the knife with his will. The man cursed and threw his weight forward but his hand and arm moved not an inch. Gripping his own wrist, he tried to pull it back, equally fruitlessly. His fingers were locked around the handle as if it was a part of him.
    ‘What are you doing?’ The man’s shoulder worked as he tried to wrench his hand free by main force. Then the Song surged and blow after blow hammered at Savin’s will. Beads of sweat broke on the man’s forehead. The two younger children started wailing, too young to understand the forces being wielded around them, and pressed their hands over their ears to try to block out the power’s roar.
    ‘Shush now, darlings,’ their mother quavered, cuddling them close. Beneath the soap bubble of her shield, her eyes were glassy with tears. ‘It’s all right, it’s all right. Shh.’
    ‘Damn it, let me go!’
    Head tilted to one side, Savin