Kyla blinked both eyes at me in her attempted wink, and I grinned. But the grin fell from my face as I thought about what this meant.
Evie stared at it. “I’ve never seen it, only heard about it. It’s a hallucinatory spell. The substance itself is called pleatix, and it’s very, very illegal. Before it’s used, it looks like a white powder. Once activated, the powder just needs to be sprinkled in front of whoever is being targeted, and it will show them their worst nightmares. The more powerful and experienced the witch, the more realistic the hallucination.”
I nodded. “My guess is whoever did this is an incredibly strong black witch. There’s no way the fae would have gotten out of the car, otherwise. They must have thought they were safer outside the car than inside it.”
Evie’s expression turned grim. “Between this and the bodyguard dropping his ward, they didn’t have a chance.”
Nelson’s face had hardened, and he examined the pleatix. “Any way to trace this?”
Evie studied it. “I’ll try. Unlikely, though. Once the spell has been used, the pleatix becomes completely inert. We’re lucky Kyla could smell the barest trace of black magic.”
Nelson nodded. “Explains why the other investigators didn’t find this.”
Evie eyed him. I could see it on her face, the urge to ask who our competitors were. But she blew out a breath and focused on the pleatix once more. “I’ll need a sample.”
“I can do that.”
The wind changed. Everyone went still. It was as if the very air turned to glue. I slowly straightened, and next to me, Kyla let out an annoyed whine. Nelson took one look at our faces and whirled.
The dark fae king had arrived.
* * *
Vassago
My stomach swam as I landed in front of the ugly building. It had been too long since I visited last. The scent of bleach, bland food, and fresh laundry stuffed itself up my nose. But beneath it all was the scent of urine and loneliness.
I shuddered, snapped my wings closed, and stalked toward the door.
This was one of the nicer nursing homes in the state. I’d made sure of that much. But it didn’t change the fact that no one should end up here.
I stopped at the sign-in desk, and a human woman eyed me. “Can I help you?”
“Vas!” Angela poked her head out of a room across from the reception area. “I was wondering when you’d visit again.”
Guilt twisted my stomach. “Yeah. It’s been a while.”
She smiled at me. “He knows why. He’s been keeping up with every bit of news he can find about the battle. You should be prepared to tell him all the gory details.”
I nodded, and her smile dropped, sympathy flicking through her eyes. “He’s in his favorite spot. I’ll take you to him now.”
Angela gestured, and I fell into step with her, my shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. We passed the cafeteria, where a few humans sat in wheelchairs and recliners, many of them staring blankly at nothing.
Somewhere in one of the rooms in the distance, I heard a woman begin to weep as if her heart were breaking.
“You’re a good man for visiting so regularly.” Angela smiled at me. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and tiny wrinkles had begun forming next to her eyes.
“I haven’t visited for weeks.”
“You visit more often than most of the residents’ families. He brags about it.”
I attempted a smile, but it fell from my face as we stepped outside.
And there was Dean, sitting in his wheelchair beside the small pond, his face in the shade, his feet in the sun. His shoes sat next to him. He’d always loved the feel of the sun on his bare feet.
My chest tightened, and his eyes met mine. His gaze hardened, and I realized I hadn’t managed to hide the pity.
“Let me know if you need anything.” Angela stepped away, and I strode toward Dean, plastering a smile on my face as I took a seat on the bench next to him.
