Chapter Twenty-Five
Stunned silence followed in the Collector’s wake. Aphrodite remained pressed to the floor, stuck, unable to disobey.
A
duel of wills.
And she’d lost.
Her remaining council looked around, clearly uncertain where they fell. The master of their city had just been dethroned.
Will they scatter, or climb over their fallen?
None seemed certain as they milled about. Several excused themselves. The only thing all the vamps appeared to agree on was that none would help Aphrodite.
Nathanial’s arm slid around my shoulders, tugging me toward one corner. I hesitated at his touch but let him lead me out of the center of the room. The need to move, to pace pressed on me. Made my skin itch.
Maybe I can just…
I froze, realizing I was looking for the easiest way out. I didn’t
need
to pace.
Damn, Avin’s call.
Wrapping my arms around my chest, I leaned on the wall next to Nathanial and concentrated on being still. If I could ignore the burning need to move, maybe he’d call back later—like next lifetime.
Yeah, and maybe I’m a Labrador.
If I didn’t respond to his urge to move, he’d send pain. I knew he would. I could already feel small pinches of fire, like a dozen burning ants crawled over my arms. It was only a matter of time before his patience waned.
I rocked from my heels to my toes, looking around the room, searching for a distraction. The Twins sat on the love seat, reading a newspaper. They were close enough—and my eyesight was good enough—that I could read the headlines from where I was standing. Unfortunately, they were sharing the sports section. Basketball scores couldn’t hold my attention. My gaze moved on.
The rest of the newspaper sat on the coffee table in front of the twins. The angle was awkward, but I could just make out the headline
Morgan Heir Found Slain.
Oh no.
I pushed off the wall. I wasn’t sure how many heirs Demur boasted, but I’d met a Morgan last night. Snatching the paper off the coffee table, I stared at the vaguely familiar face smiling from the photograph dominating the front page.
Justin Morgan.
I skimmed the article, dread growing in my stomach with each word. Morgan was last seen leaving a symphony with a young woman in her early twenties with tri-colored hair.
Crap.
Authorities were searching for any further information, and a hefty reward was being offered for any tips that led to the arrest of any persons involved in Morgan’s death.
The article continued on another page, and I flipped to it.
The second page included more information about the man, his family, and his life. No details on his death. I closed the paper and folded it. Morgan’s face smiled up at me from above the fold.
You were alive when you ran from that alley.
So what happened after that?
I tossed the paper on the table. The desire to move was nearly a tangible force around me. And not only because of Avin’s summoning now. I wrapped my arms over my chest and forced my legs still, my feet planted.
I was so intent on keeping myself together, I barely noticed when a pair of small hands picked up the discarded newspaper.
Elizabeth made a soft sound in her throat. “Wasn’t this the man you left the gala with?”
Her face was earnest, but her tone betrayed the fact the question was fake. She knew damn well that I’d left with Morgan.
The twins, arguably the highest-ranking vampires in the room now that the Collector and the Traveler were gone, and with Aphrodite prostrate under a dominance command, took the paper from Elizabeth. They scanned the article, and then looked up. Four brown eyes evaluated me.
“What do you think?” Edlin or maybe it was Alion—I didn’t know which—asked.
The question wasn’t directed toward me.
His brother shrugged. “Early twenties with tri-colored hair? I say we confine Kita to her room until the Collector can determine her guilt.”
Crap.
And now I was accused of murder.
* * * *
I paced the narrow area between the bed and the French doors, my fingers rubbing my bare arms. Avin’s call was growing worse, but I had plenty else to concentrate on.
How
did Morgan die?
Would Avin have tracked him after I left? But why would he? He couldn’t use the body, and if Justin had been “found slain” there was definitely a body.
But what’s the likelihood he’s a random victim and I just
happened to have the bad luck of being the last person seen
with him while he was alive?
I had a black cat’s luck, but really, this latest bombshell was too much.
And there are too
many bodies.
The General’s head showing up on a silver platter proved that whoever had been killing in Haven had traveled to Demur with us.
And I know someone with plenty of venom and a nice
sharp sword.
The question was, could I prove Akane was behind the killings?
And does she have help?
Luna had been drained. That indicated a vampire was involved. I frowned, picking up my pace. I needed out of this room. A closer look—and sniff—of the General’s head would be useful. Maybe I’d find something that would prove who’d killed him. Hell, too bad I couldn’t call in Bobby, or better yet Degan. With his nose, Degan probably could find the General’s body. According to the guards, the General’s powers revolved around healing. He was supposed to be nearly indestructible unless he was dismembered and his parts scattered. Maybe if we could locate his body and get his head back on, he could tell us what happened to him. Not a lot we could do while he was just a head.
I stopped.
I
did
know someone who could make a head talk. Avin. Of course, I still owed him for the last skull he’d animated—and I had no intention of paying him. He wasn’t likely to help me out of the goodness of his dead, non-beating heart.
I paced faster. The Collector was on edge over the murders. What would she give to find the murderer? Would she grant Nathanial and me our freedom? Would she give him Demur?
Would he even want that?
At least it would solve our Tatius issue.
But can he hold a city?
I had no idea.
I glanced at him. While I couldn’t stay still, Nathanial had gone to near statue mode. He sat in the armchair in the corner, his nose in a book. He didn’t look up as I studied him.
Actually, he hadn’t looked at me since we’d reached the room.
I should have been thankful, I suppose. He wasn’t pushing me. He was giving me space. But I knew, from being in his thoughts, he was afraid I was going to run.
And I didn’t know what to tell him.
Not at all. I didn’t even know what I felt. And right now, I was too anxious to figure it out.
A large portion of that anxiety was Avin’s spell, I knew that, but the knowledge didn’t make it any easier to ignore.
Instead it pissed me off, made me want to bust my way through the wall, or fight the vamps for my freedom. Not that either was an acceptable option.
Something crashed in the bathroom, followed by a familiar yelp. I froze. In what felt like slow motion, I turned toward the door and my guards. They were staring at me, having obviously heard the commotion. I hitched my shoulders and flashed them a sheepish smile. They glanced at each other, and Ronco shook his head before they both turned back around.
Thank the moon.
I didn’t run across the room, not quite, at least. I forced myself to slow before I reached the bathroom.
Nathanial stood as I reached the door. His eyes narrowed and the line of his lips all but screamed at me to be cautious.
After a moment, he said, “The house of cards I am building us is tenuous at best, particularly considering recent events.”
Right, negotiations weren’t going well. I knew that, and I’d be careful, but if I didn’t go in to see what Gil needed, she might just come out of the bathroom looking for me. I flashed Nathanial the same smile I’d given the guards. Then I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me. He didn’t stop me.
Gil was sprawled inside the tub, her legs in the air and the trash can attached to one foot. I twisted the sink faucets on as I passed and then grabbed the aluminum can, tugging it—and Gil’s plastic rain boot—off.
“What are you doing here?”
She twisted, trying to push herself up in the base of the tub, but she ended up flailing more than righting herself. I offered a hand and tugged her to her feet.
“The rogue attacked Bobby this afternoon.”
I nearly dropped the trash can. “Is Bobby okay?”
“He’s fine. He has the rogue contained,” she said, trying to untangle a luffa from her dark curls.
I frowned. If Steven had turned rogue, Bobby would have done more than ‘contain’ him.
Gil continued without noticing my frown. “Bobby wants you to come spend some time with him. He said that a
Torin’s
influence can often help stabilize tagged shifters.” Her scroll appeared in her hand. “How would that work?”
It worked the same way an alpha-pulse did. It was will and energy used to dominate beta shifters, but I couldn’t exactly go into all that right now. Could the guards hear us?
According to Nathanial, our room was supposed to be a sanctuary and they weren’t supposed to listen, but did that rule apply now that I was under house arrest and suspected of murder?
“Okay. Take me to him.” I doubted I’d be any help to Steven. I wasn’t a
Torin.
Hell, no matter what Bobby claimed, I wasn’t even
Dyre
anymore. But maybe Gil could do something to help combat Avin’s call, and I needed answers about Justin’s death before the Collector turned her attention to me. Actually, if Justin had died of suspicious circumstances—as in a supernatural was suspected—the mages were probably already investigating. “I need information about Justin Morgan’s death while we’re out.”
For once, Gil didn’t ask. She just nodded and reached for me, but a knock sounded on the door before her hand landed.
We both froze.
“Go,” I mouthed.
She vanished without me.
I let myself out of the bathroom and found Nathanial standing in the open bedroom doorway, talking to someone I couldn’t see. He made a small gesture with his hand which could have either been a ‘come here’ or a twitch.
I was betting against a twitch.
Moving silently, I joined him at the door. Jomar stood on the other side. His ever-present grimace deepened to a scowl when he saw me.
“The Collector requests your presence,” he said adding a small bow to Nathanial out of habit and clearly not because of any respect he held for him. “Both of you.”
I didn’t get a bow. Not that I expected one. It wasn’t a request. It was a summons—she should get in line.
* * * *
The Collector sat ramrod straight in her flat-backed chair, the twins lounging on the loveseat beside her, and the Traveler towering behind her. For the first time, her attention focused on me as we walked into the room.
That can’t be
good.
“What, pray tell, is this?” She waved at the table in front of her. A table with the front page of the newspaper spread across it.
“Daily rumor mill?”
She didn’t seem to find that funny.
“You were in the presence of Justin Morgan last night, yes?” When I nodded, she continued, “And, after leaving the symphony with him, you returned disheveled and with blood on your dress, yes?”
“That was my blood.”
Her eyes flashed black.
I tried to look away, but her power sucked me into those eyes, to a world dominated by her presence. Her will.
“You will answer my questions truthfully.” Her power wrapped around me, locking me to her will. In the darkness of her gaze, I forgot to breathe, forgot everything. I just nodded, unable to do anything else.
“Good. When you returned, your appearance showed signs of a struggle and your dress was stained with blood. Yes or no?” Her voice, as sharp as cold steel, cut the air around me.
“Yes, but it was—”
“You killed Justin Morgan.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“Then what happened while you were in the young Morgan’s presence?”
I couldn’t not answer, and I couldn’t lie. Caught in her power, I tried to keep my thoughts ahead of my tongue. “I encountered someone I owed a debt.” Which was true. It just wasn’t everything.
“And this… someone, was a supernatural, yes?”
Crap.
“Yes.”
“Then what happened?”
“I told Morgan to run. He did. It was the last time I saw him.” There was no wiggle room in that one. The Collector clearly realized that as well because the silence stretched.
She’d gotten her information, more than I’d wanted to share, and I expected the darkness to pull back. It didn’t.
Instead she asked, “What can you tell me about the General?”
The question was so broad, I could technically tell her anything at all I knew. But I gave her what she needed to know and hoped it would win me some favor. “The blood in his hair smells of snake venom.”
“The Hermit said you smelled venom in the body you found in Haven as well.”
I hadn’t known he’d told her about it, but I nodded. “That is true. The scent compared to my own blood after Akane poisoned me.”
“But this scent is one only you can smell and therefore not proof.”
I gritted my teeth.
She has me caught in a compulsion not
to lie, and she still doesn’t believe me?
The swirl of power around me tightened, seeped under my skin.
“You will bring me a shapeshifter.”
The command dug into my mind, latched on.
Oh hell no.
But it was an order, a compulsion. I couldn’t refuse. Couldn’t say no. I couldn’t even open my mouth to try.
But I could bargain.
“In exchange, you will grant Nathanial and me permission to leave if we wish.”