Hegrabbed the remote and pulled up the app screen, flipping to YouTube. A password-protected window came up. After typing in the password, he came to a page called “Marked YouTube.” The Marked were those who had magic, whereas the Unmarked was the term we used for those without magic.
Dante brought up the channel of a vlogger named Pam Smoot. I had met her only once face-to-face, when she did a video on our band. She always tended to put strange twists on her topics in the hopes of making them more inflammatory.
“Are you familiar with this lady?” Dante asked. “She has this killer instinct for going after the royals and their failed policies. Sometimes she gets personal. I like to tune in now and then, especially when she goes after the princess.” His eyes gleamed with malice. “But this one is her most recent. I just watched it this morning.”
The title of the video wasPrince Valemont: More Friend to Vampires than to Fae?
Dante hit play.
Pam Smoot, a fae woman with large blond curls and bright red lips, came onto the screen. Behind her was the Austen Heights Police Department.
“I’m here reporting from the cozy magical town called Austen Heights, where magical beings and humans freely mix. Last night, someone found a body behind the police station with teeth marks in the neck. The body had been drained of blood. The police have confirmed that the victim was Albert Jones, a prominent fae man who’s cousin to John Rittle on the fae council.” A picture of the man I’d found dead on my doorstep showed up on the screen.
Dante paused the video. “You don’t think this dead body has to do with the one you found on your doorstep, do you?”
“They’re the same,” I said. “I moved the body and dropped it behind the police station to avoid detection.”
“Hmm, good.” He pressed play.
Pam Smoot’s voice rang out well and clear. “Prince Valemont has taken an interest in reforming laws against werewolves and vampires. Laws that some believe keep us safe from such violent monsters. And yet he wants to give them more freedoms and protections on a case-by-case basis. I interviewed a couple of council members to get their opinions on the prince’suntraditionalstance.”
An angry, red-faced fae man came on the screen. “I am John Rittle, and I believe Prince Valemont is being irresponsible. I own a rather large business in the steel industry and employ many humans. Not to mention I have family who live in Austen Heights. One of them was my cousin, who was just murdered by a monster. The only reason towns such as Austen Heights works is because we promise to protect humans and fae and all creatures from the evils of vampires and werewolves. When we grow lax, this is what happens.”
Pam appeared on the screen and nodded. “It feels as though the prince cares more about these deadly creatures than he cares about us.”
“Indeed.” Jonathan Rittle glared into the camera as if glaring at Darcy himself.
Pam stepped to the side, always watching the camera. “But not everyone shows such vehemence towards our prince. Our newest council member has some thoughts to share. Local medical tech innovator Tom Selving had some kind words to offer.”
The camera turned to another middle-aged fae man, this one had a friendly smile that showed through his small beard. “I’m sure Prince Valemont is doing the best he can. There are a lot of pressures and competing interests vying for the attention of the prince—”
Pam pulled the mic away. “Yes, but is that a compelling enough excuse for leaving our communities in peril from such savage creatures? I’ll let you decide. This is Pam Smoot, holding the royals accountable.” She saluted toward the screen before the video ended.
Dante frowned. “With Pam’s video, this has become big news, and they will be looking for a culprit. If they’re targeting you…” His eyes narrowed. “You better hope this doesn’t get pinned on me, or I’ll ensure the last reach of my wrath will be against you, dear Wickham.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You really enjoy it in here?”
“There are worse options.” No doubt meaning the maximum-security prison he should be in. “The reason I killed someone was so I might live out my days in ease, with my needs met and everything that I desire.” He motioned around him. “While I admit, it is a setback to have my freedom curtailed”—he stepped up to the rose picture, ripped it off the dartboard, and drew a lighter from his pocket—“being here gives me most of what I sought after. And I will not have you ruin that.”
He lit the paper on fire, dropped it to the ground, then stamped it out, rage and anger reflecting in his eyes. He raised his fury-filled gaze to me and hummed. “Shall we make it official? George Wickham, I compel you to find the murderer and ensure the authorities do not wrongly blame me for this dark deed.”
Again the wave surged over me, and the urge to do as he said made me eager to leave.
“I was already planning to investigate. You didn’t have to do that.” I turned and stepped toward the exit, but then I heard his tune again, and my dread grew.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Dante said. “Keep an eye on that little witch of yours. Heaven knows we can’t have her spilling what she saw.”
The wave of need enveloped me despite it being the last thing I wanted to do. It would be better if I stayed as far away from Lydia as possible while I tried to ascertain what was going on. I made my way to the door, fighting the compulsion that would force me to comply no matter what.
“I didn’t hear your answer, George.”
My hands balled into fists as the words poured unwillingly from my mouth. I gave a sarcastic bow. “As you wish, sire.”
“Good boy.”
I pulled open the door and left, determined never to visit my sire again.
Chapter 4
