River puts a supportive arm around Eva’s shoulders, and she glances up at him before she continues. “I had my luck up, and I sensed another fae’s luck nearby… from the direction of the bank. I sensed there was someone else there, but I couldn’t see them.”
“What did their luck feel like?”
She sighed. “A spider. Giant and dark. The signature left me cold. The thing is, it might have nothing to do with the murder. It’s completely possible that someone just shielded themselves with luck when they heard the shot.”
“How strong was it? Another leprechaun could have neutralized your luck just as well as blue iron.”
“It could have been a leprechaun, but I didn’t recognize the signature. It was strong but different. I’m not sure if that was due to distance or something else.”
Strong but different. I shake my head. Maybe a leprechaun. Maybe a pixie or satyr amplifying their luck with a charm. That would be rare, but I’m not ruling anything out at this point.
“I’m still struggling with how the gun got there though. Someone had to leave it behind after the murder.” I try to think back to the crime scene and find my memory sketchy on the subject. Godmother was there so fast and cleaned everything up so thoroughly I never got close enough to really inspect the scene. Was there blood spray? In what direction? Is it possible the murderer shot Adam from behind the bank? But then how did the gun get to its spot beside River? I keep coming back to that point, and it’s starting to hurt my head thinking about it. Seven was closer. I’ll have to ask him what he remembers.
“The one thing all of us know for sure is that River didn’t do this. So how do we prove that and get him out of here?”
Eva sighs. “I plan to go to Godmother and tell her what I know.”
I cross my arms against a sense of unease at the thought. “Do you think you’ll have better luck than I did? I don’t think she cares about the truth as much as she wants a scapegoat. Her ego is everything. She’ll never admit to a mistake unless there’s undeniable proof.”
“We’vegotto do something.” Eva threads her fingers into River’s and slants him a pitying look.
I study them both, desperate for an answer that seems just out of reach. “There are a few details I want to run down. Can you both wait a few days?”
“Depends. What kind of details are you talking about?” River asks.
“Now that I have Eva’s perspective, I want to rewatch the security video for more clues. And then I want to do some research into which leprechauns have a luck aura that feels like a spider.”
Eva snorts. “How do you plan to do that?”
Eva’s phone vibrates, interrupting our conversation. She taps the screen, then turns wide eyes on me. “Why is my brother texting me about finding you an outfit for the Gilded Gala?”
“What better place to meet a few leprechauns?” I grin.
Her mouth drops open. Luck is a strange and wonderful thing.
ChapterTwenty
Once Evangeline came down from the surprise that I was attending the Gilded Gala on Seven’s arm, she was quick to offer her help with styling Arden and me for the event, which, as it turns out, is a far more complicated endeavor than what I expected.
“It’s not just that it has to be gold, you two. This year’s event is a masquerade! Everyone’s outfit will be designed to represent a historical or literary figure. It will take a hell of a lot of luck and influence to have anything ready on time. People have been planning their apparel for months. Some since the last gala!”
I glance at Arden, but she’s glued to her phone. Texting Edmund, no doubt. I haven’t had a moment alone with her in days. She’s been with him every waking minute.
“Are you sure we’ll be able to find something appropriate?” I ask.
She flashes an adorably mischievous grin. “Seven has made sure of it.”
Jericho parks in front of a glass tower in Elderflame, and Eva leads me up the elevator to the twenty-fifth floor where a svelte black satyr with gracefully polished horns and a bespoke suit meets us at the door. He’s a beautiful man, not just handsome but pretty, with perfect skin and enviable posture.
“Ms. Larkspur, I presume. Valentine Sullivan at your service.”
Valentine bows slightly at the waist, and I am struck again by his grace and keen fashion sense, at the way the fabric of his suit reacts to his movement. It’s breathtaking, like the man is wearing a silk waterfall.
“Thank you for helping us on such short notice,” I say.
A smile dances across his face, bringing out dimples in his cheeks. “You must know that Mr. Delaney is a very good customer. What he wants, he gets. It appears he wants the two of you dressed for the gala, and I have strict orders to make sure every eye is on you.”
Eva slides her hands into her pockets. “I’m not sure my brother understands what goes into a gala gown. We’ll be happy with anything you can do for us.”
