“I stopped by the barn on my way to the forest. There were a few grooms there. Ronin, Sareyya, and Canticle.” Adrian’s brows were furrowed, but Layla could tell he was trying to be as helpful as possible to clear himself of this terrible crime. Just then, Rikyava’s red-bearded head Guardsman came jogging back into the room.
“The Sphinxes have only seen the imprints of people who have apartments up here today. No additional guests except Layla, just twenty minutes ago. And Adrian’s guardian Dragons show no sign of forced entry. They also showed the Head Courtesan, Head Concierge, and the Hotel Head leaving separately from this apartment about three hours ago.”
“But.” Rikyava eyeballed her captain, knowing from the man’s shifting glance at Adrian that there was more.
“But the Sphinxes did see the Hotel Head and Head Courtesan come back up here together, about an hour ago.” His gaze shifted from Adrian, as if he couldn’t bear to look the Hotel Head in the eyes as he gave his news. “The guardian Dragons at Adrian’s doors recorded one access prior to twenty minutes ago – Adrian’s eyes, breath, and finger-prints. One hour ago, at the same time the Head Courtesan came back up here with him.”
Rikyava’s gaze swung slowly to Adrian.
“I didn’t do this, Rikyava,” Adrian breathed. “I swear to every god in all the heavens. I would never kill Sylvania.Never.And I’ve never been able to do something like this with my magic.”
Slowly, the Blood Dragon drew a deep breath. Turning to her captain, she said. “Find me the grooms Ronin Petite, Sareyya Manin, and Canticle du Freysne. Bring them down to the Guardhall for questioning. Adrian says he was out walking the grounds all night – find me evidence. Go.”
“On it.” The man moved away fast, whistling sharply for the remaining Guard in the room. They tore away, leaving Rikyava, Dusk, Layla, and Adrian behind. Silence devoured the apartment as everyone stared at the dead body. At last, Dusk pulled a sheet from Adrian’s bed, draping it gently over the luminous corpse, hiding it in draping folds. They continued to stare at the sheet, until Adrian raised his eyes back to Rikyava.
“I didn’t do this, Rikyava.”
“I believe you.” She drew a deep breath, but her gaze was awful as it met his, then swept to Layla.
“I know who it was.” Layla breathed, horror curling through her veins like liquid darkness. A memory of hunter-green eyes surfaced in her mind, and she shuddered.
“I know.” Rikyava murmured back, something awful in her blood-red eyes. “I wondered when something like this was going to happen. Ever since he infiltrated the Hotel the first time, I was wondering when we’d finally have to clean up a mess of Hunter’s. How long it would be before he decided to make a move and show us all how easily he could become any one of us – and take down someone we loved. I thought it was going to be Layla he made a move to harm… I never expected this.”
Gazing back to the covered body, Layla felt something cold slither through her gut, swallowing her into a black despair. This was her fault. Sylvania’s death was her fault. If she hadn’t resisted Hunter at Samhain, if she had gone with him, the Head Courtesan’s death would never have happened. And to make it worse, Hunter had framed Adrian. The one person Layla couldn’t do without, the one person she died to be close to. Hunter had deliberately killed using Adrian’s face, even the imprint of Adrian’s magic.
Something that was supposed to be impossible.
Just then, the Madame and Head Courtier swept into the room. Etienne Voulouer’s hands clapped to her cheeks, her feline eyes brimming with tears as she rushed forward in a purple and gold dressing-gown, stopping at the rim of the blood pool and covering her mouth with her hand.
But it was Reginald who rushed all the way in, kneeling without a care to his quilted blue silk robe in the blood beside the dead woman. Eyebrows knit and eyes wide in horror, he cast back the sheet quickly, baring Sylvania’s haunting corpse. A tortuous sound came from his throat as he seized the dead woman’s shoulders, hauling her up – clutching her to his breast. A terrible keening came from him as he cradled the Head Courtesan to his chest, rocking her.
And in that moment, Layla suddenly recalled that the Head Courtier and the Head Courtesan had been lovers. More than lovers. Primary mates – something that seldom happened between two people of different Lineages.
“How could you have let this happen?!” Reginald roared over his shoulder at Dusk, rage and pain in his pale blue eyes. “Sylvania!”
Dusk hunkered upon the other side of the dead woman, a matching pain in his bright sapphire gaze. “I didn’t feel it, Aldo. I’m so sorry! Please – it all happened so fast.”
“Wetrustedyou with the Orb of Cephalus!” Reginald snarled, still cradling the dead woman. “You haveone jobhere, Dusk! And you have failed,utterly!”
“Reginald—” Dusk’s voice was a hard rasp now; tears stood out in his lovely sapphire eyes, though they didn’t fall.
“Get out of my sight! Get out… all of you just get out!” The Head Courtier roared, a long, furious wail ripping from him again as he clutched the body to his breast. Keening now with hard, roaring sobs, he cradled Sylvania’s lovely head to his face – kissing her pale lips over and over.
Dusk’s dark eyebrows knit, pain suffusing his features as he closed his eyes, iridescence flashing hard through his hair and Dragon-scales. Layla watched Dusk’s tears fall, awful. With steady stoicism, he rose, taking a deep inhalation. And then turned, striding out from Adrian’s apartment into the hall.
Rikyava went after Dusk, her eyes returned to lavender and her blonde brows lifted as she stepped quickly to the hall. Moving to Layla, Adrian’s eyes were bleak. Twining his fingers through hers, he nodded his chin at the hall also. Glancing back, Layla saw Reginald fall forward over the corpse, his entire body wracked with sobs. Waves of water manifested in the air around him, washing around the corpse as he screamed, as if his magic could cry for his dead lover.
Watching Reginald, the Madame sighed with pain in her eyes. Her demeanor was tired as she motioned Adrian and Layla out, stepping out behind them and closing the doors to Adrian’s apartment. Everyone lingered in the hall, stunned, Dusk heaving hard breaths and wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. Squaring her shoulders, the Madame beckoned, and everyone followed her to her apartment. Opening the doors, she ushered them in, then spoke low to a Guardsman, who gave her a crisp nod and rushed off.
Fires roared in four fireplaces around the Madame’s apartment, outlining patterns of tiger-stripe and leopard everything. As if Layla had stepped into a cat sanctuary, the Madame’s rooms had a wilderness to them, drowning in pots of vines with trees twisting their way through the vaulted space. Even the tiger-print bed reflected a feline aura, situated on a high platform one had to climb stairs to access. There were even decorations around the room that reminded Layla of tinsel-balls that housecoats played with.
Though no one was playing now.
A midnight spread from Catering arrived quickly, though they had shocked faces as they set up an urn of coffee and plates of small bites. After they departed, the Madame sipped coffee from a china cup, though no one ate much, silence devouring the room. Just when Layla thought it couldn’t get any worse, Reginald pushed in through the doors, his golden hair bedraggled, his dressing-robe stained with silver blood.
“Madame.” He rasped, his gaze bleak and red-rimmed. “The Intercessoria Judiciary are here. They would like to speak with you and establish the crime scene.”
The Madame blinked rapidly as she set her coffee down, smoothing her hands down her robe. “Of course. Of course…”
