But my suspicion that the dragon shifter is to blame dies when the Nightmare Prince scoffs, "I do my best work in mad minds, Crane. Of course I know that you're one of them."
He tips his head back to blow out a long exhale of sweet-smelling smoke, and Baelfire snaps, "Now is not the time to smoke, you creepy fuck."
"Smoke shouldn't bother a dragon."
"Everythingbothers me right now. I need to fucking kill something, and it's about to be you."
The incubus's typical levity is gone as he ignores Baelfire to look at me. "If Frost tells the faculty or anyone else that Maven was at the scene of the crime, I truly will kill him. Don't try to stop me."
As a faculty member and not a student, Everett wasn't locked in this apartment with the rest of us. He went to a big meeting with the other professors and faculty, who are undoubtedly in a tizzy about Everbound being locked down.
It's never happened before. Then again, neither has an assassination within the Immortal Quintet.
I glance down at my hands, watching the fresh clusters of puncture marks from my bleeding crystal as they start to tingle and seal, thanks to the concoction. I lost track of how many times I drew my own blood while trying to heal her, but whether or not she killed the mage for some anti-legacy plight, I would do it all again.
At least, I wouldtry. I have no idea why my magic refused to heal her.
"When I couldn't rely on either of you earlier," I mutter, glaring at both Crypt and Baelfire, "Everett is the one who snuck Maven to this apartment while I wiped away all traces of her from that office. I doubt he'll say anything to anyone else, but if he does, I'll help you kill him. Gods only know how badly I wanted to when he told Maven?—"
"About the betyousuggested," Baelfire growls, cutting me off. "Fucking fae. You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"
Whenever we were forced to spend time together as children, we'd made plenty of bets about all kinds of juvenile things. Typically, to prove who was the best. This bet was meant to be a harmless competition between childhood enemies and nothing more—for the others, at least. I was serious about winning Baelfire's dragon scales, and I intend to collect them later for two good reasons.
But right now, my priority is to make sure Maven knows I wasn't faking anything for the wager.
I roll my eyes. "Don't pretend you weren't the first to jump on the bandwagon."
"Whatever. Unlike you, I don't trust that icicle prick to keep his mouth shut. Hell, hejustscrewed us over! What's going to stop him from telling the Immortal Quintet that Maven was in that room with their dead quintet member?"
I consider that quietly. The tingling in my limbs is softening, and my nose isn't drizzling blood anymore. I'm sure my shoulder will be fucking sore, but at least the concoction did much of the heavy mending of my broken shoulder for me.
Finally, Baelfire sits up on the couch, grunting as he pulls my bleeding crystal from his bicep. His bicep immediately heals, and he studies the fae-created mineral.
"Okay, are we going to talk about the fact that our adorable little keeper might've murdered the headmaster? It sounds fucking nuts, but why the hell else would she have been in there? I mean…even if she's part of the anti-legacy shit going on, she's just an atypical caster, so how would she?—"
"She's notjustan anything, so watch your mouth. We've all been underestimating her." Crypt exhales another long puff of smoke before tossing down the stub and stepping on it to snuff it out. I note that he's no longer shaking.
"Easy to do when we've learned frustratingly little about her," I mutter. Then my eyes narrow on him. "Were you watching her from Limbo when she was in that office? Do you know something I don't?"
"I know plenty of things you don't, Crane."
"If it's about Maven, tell us," Baelfire grits. "We could have lost her?—"
He cuts off, and we all go quiet when we hear the click of the bathroom door opening down the hall. A moment later, my throat constricts violently when Maven steps into the room wrapped in nothing but a white towel. Her dark, wet hair drapes over one of her bare shoulders, and her boots hang from one hand. Water still clings to her arms, legs, and neck, glistening like miniature crystals all over her tantalizing body.
My cock is immediately demanding attention. I'm not the only one because Baelfire looks like his brain is malfunctioning, and Crypt is instantly at her side.
"Darling," he rasps so quietly I almost don't make it out.
Maven surveys each of us with a highly guarded expression. It takes intense effort not to adjust my erection, but she already has enough reason to be furious with us without me slavering over every inch of her like a starving wendigo with my dick in hand.
"I have no clothes here," Maven mutters.
"Take mine," Baelfire says quickly, hurrying from the room using his shifter speed to go to the bedroom he's claimed for his own.
A few seconds later, he reappears and eagerly offers our keeper an armful of shirts, hoodies, and other random articles of clothing. Maven begrudgingly selects a massive dark gray hoodie from the pile. Her attention drifts to my still-healing nose, but she has no outward reaction.
"Well, baby? You gonna tell us why you were in that room?" Baelfire asks bluntly.
