Tension spiked through the room as the Madame exited. Adrian sank into a seat by the fireplace, his hands laced hard as he set his thumbs to his lips, his face ashen. Dusk sat beside him but said nothing, though they both looked up as the Madame returned and summoned Rikyava and Dusk out to speak with the Intercessoria Judiciary investigators – to tell them what they’d discovered when they evaluated the body.
Nervousness clenched Layla as minutes stretched to an hour. The glow of dawn began to brighten the sky through the Madame’s vaulted windows as Adrian sat silent, his hands still gripped tight as he stared at the fireplace. Layla could practically see his mind churning as he frowned at the curling flames. She watched him consider this event from all angles as he sat, pensive and waiting.
He’d not been called to speak with the Juds yet, and Layla knew he was keenly aware that he was their primary suspect. Layla shifted in her seat, worrying if they took him away for questioning, that she might never see him again. Adrian must have felt something, for he looked over. Their gazes connected and he gave her a sad, reassuring smile. Reaching out, he clasped her hand. But his hand was cold to the touch and Layla felt his energy swirling just like hers, dark and deep inside his body.
Reginald sat by one fireplace in a high-backed chair. He’d already been out to speak with the investigators, and now sat staring at the flames. Without any of his couture, he was truly striking, even in his grief. Reginald’s aquiline features were stony, his gaze frigid as he stared at the fire, his full lips set in a hard line. Bright golden hair escaped around his face from his tight club, the glow of the flames making his pale blue eyes a haunting color. The high collar of his blue silk robe was open, his strong collarbones standing out in his artfully-muscled chest.
As Layla watched, he balled a fist in the silk of his robe and clenched it, then released it as if with a will. Moving over to him, the Madame sank gracefully down before his chair. His gaze flickered to her, and reaching out, she gripped his hand. But though he glanced at their fingers, something in his manner was still shellshocked.
“Aldo,” Etienne Voulouer murmured softly. “We will figure out why this happened, and who did it. I promise. And we will have retribution.”
Closing his eyes, Reginald sat still a long moment, beautiful and terrible like a marble statue. Flames crackled in the fireplace, the only sound in the room. At last, he gave a weary nod. Rising and reaching out, Etienne gathered the Head Courtier’s head in her hands. She stepped close, and Reginald’s shoulders heaved in a sigh as he rested his face on Etienne’s belly. Etienne ran her hands tenderly through his hair, removing the elastic that kept his club back and letting that wealth of burnished gold fall free. Layla saw Reginald’s shoulders heave again; saw him shudder though his face was hidden by his hair now. The Madame met Layla’s gaze, though she did not cease combing her long fingers through Reginald’s flaxen glory.
At that moment, Dusk re-entered the room. Glancing at Layla and Adrian, his gaze was bleak, triply so as he saw the Madame and Reginald. Lurching from the door, he moved toward the fireplace. Stopping just short of the Madame, he gazed at Reginald.
“Aldo, I swear to you—” Dusk began.
“Leave it be, Dusk.” The Head Courtier’s voice came muffled through Etienne’s robe. He said no more and Dusk closed his lips, a woebegone look taking his face. It was clear the Head Courtier wasn’t going to forgive Dusk for the lapse in Hotel security that had happened while Dusk and Layla had been out-of-contact in the crystal bath-house. It had already been agreed that neither Dusk nor Rikyava would be fired because of this event, though Layla could feel Dusk’s terrible guilt – as if he’d failed in his responsibilities at the Hotel, utterly.
At last, Dusk moved back to where Layla and Adrian sat, collapsing into a chair. Reaching out, he took up Layla’s hand, twining his fingers through hers as if for comfort. It was comforting, and Layla sighed, Dusk sighing at that same exact moment.
“What are the Judiciary saying out there, Dusk?” Adrian’s voice was low, tense.
“They think this was a hit,” Dusk spoke, taking up the conversation as he toyed with Layla’s fingers. “A hit meant to destabilize the Paris Hotel. I told them all about our interactions with Hunter a month back; told them our theory. Rikyava backed me up. They berated us for withholding information about such a dangerous creature on our premises, but at least the two investigators the Juds sent are civil. They’re listening, gathering clues, weighing all options. The lead investigator is a stickler for finding out the perfect truth in any case he works. Which may be to our advantage.”
“Who’s the lead on this case?” Adrian asked softly.
“Heathren Merkami. Second on the case is Insinio Brandfort.” Dusk’s words were like stones dropping from his lips as he watched Adrian.
With a slow out-breath, Adrian rubbed his hands over his face and down his stubble. Layla hadn’t thought he could get any more ashen, but he did, like hearing those names had stolen his soul, or worse. He swallowed hard, his gaze dark, the gold in his eyes intense by the light of the flames. “I’m their primary suspect, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” Dusk didn’t mince words. “Rikyava and I had to tell them the truth of what we found in Sylvania’s blood and final memories, Adrian, and the Guard’s initial investigation. But there is an anomaly that may work in your favor. Apparently, both the Sphinxes and your guardian Dragons held an imprint of you and Sylvania ascending the stairs and going into your apartment together an hour before we found the body. But neither set of guardians imprinted with you everleavingyour room. So unless you jumped out the window of your own apartment or off the fourth-floor balcony to meet up with Layla and I outside the crystal bath-house…”
“And the Guard already reported that my apartment was secure when they did their first sweep. No windows or balcony doors were unlocked.” Adrian blinked; something hopeful moved over his features.
“It may be your saving grace, Adrian.” Dusk held his gaze with a level intensity. “Heathren Merkami won’t let a detail like that slide, you know he won’t.”
“God, I hope so.” Adrian wiped his hands over his face again in a tired gesture. Reaching out, Layla took his fingers in hers also, so one hand was holding Dusk and the other Adrian. Adrian looked up; a small smile flitted over his lips before it was gone.
“I’m sorry the night turned out this way.” Layla breathed.
“Me, too.” Adrian’s smile was sad.
But before he could say anything else, Rikyava came back into the room. Glancing at Layla, her gaze pierced like a spear. “Layla. The Intercessoria Judiciary are ready for you now.”
“Sure.” Layla took a deep breath and rose. It was almost physically painful to let go of Adrian and Dusk’s hands, but she managed. Her gaze connected to Dusk and she felt him give a reassuring rumble through the air. She glanced at Adrian, and his eyes were tired.
“Tell them the truth, Layla. Don’t hold anything back. We’re too far past that, and it’ll only end up causing trouble.” Adrian spoke softly.
“What if my testimony incriminates you?”
“It will.” His gaze was bleak. “But to not tell the Juds the full truth at this point would dig us even deeper into the pit than we already are. It was my mistake to have not have reported Hunter’s infiltration of the Paris Hotel to them back in October. I wanted to solve the situation internally; I was wrong. I have to own that now. Don’t dig yourself into a hole with the Juds. Just tell them the truth.”
Gazing into Adrian’s sober face, Layla nodded. He was right. It was going to be a mess for them to sort out, but the more she could be honest now, the better chance Adrian had of not getting chucked into a dark oubliette for the rest of his days – or worse.
Taking a deep breath, Layla stepped away from her bound men toward the doors. Putting a hand to one gilded door-handle, she pushed out, stepping into the hall.
CHAPTER 10 – JUDICIARY
