“I wouldn’t count on it.” I needed to leave. If Sephira hadn’t set me up, she most certainly was thinking about it now. Normally at this stage I’d turn on my charm, bring her down, and talk my way out of things, but with the potion in my system, that wasn’t possible at the moment.
Her fingers dug into the countertop, cracking the tile. But then she straightened and let out another disconcerting laugh. “We will see. As for this murder case, if you ask me, you’re barking up the wrong tree. You immediately suspect a vampire, but what’s our motive? Exposing one of us exposes all of us. Could there be other people from other species who might have a stake in exposing George Wickham as a vampire?”
“The only non-vampires who know what I am are Lizzy Bennet, Mary Bennet, her werewolf friend, Lydia and…” I sucked in a breath, my thoughts returning to the fateful masquerade ball a couple years ago.
“And?”
“A young woman from a while back. I broke her heart, and her brother found out. But he wouldn’t dare.” Would he?
“Does he have a reason to want to drop a dead body on your doorstep?”
“Yes, and no.” Darcy and I had bad feelings between us, but why wait until now to act on it? In addition, Darcy didn’t seem the kind to commit such a deceitful act. “But the pricks on the dead fae’s throat. The body was drained of blood—I could tell.”
“And there are no other ways of draining a body of blood? Look, I’m not saying that a vampire didn’t do this, but maybe he was being paid to set you up for who knows what reason. One thing I know for certain—no vampire in this community wants someone with that much knowledge about us to be discovered.”
My brain spun. I headed for the door, nearly tripping over the life-sized fox statue that sat just off the kitchen. “I have to go.”
“Time is a river that flows endlessly, and we vampires outlast it all. I’ll be waiting, George Wickham. Farewell, for now.”
Could the killer be someone who wasn’t a vampire? Under other circumstances, I’d scoff at the level of conspiracy that would require, but these weren’t normal circumstances, and I had a rather rocky relationship with one of the few people who might pull off something of such breadth and scope.
But why? Why set me up when he could just expose me for what I was? Darcy was in such a position that he didn’t have to play games.
One thing was certain. When Darcy and I had lunch in two days, we’d have a lot to talk about.
Chapter 8
Thenextday,Ifollowed Lydia around town at a distance like a coward. I’d promised Mary to talk to her, and I needed to, but I couldn’t seem to force myself to take that step.
It was selfish of me, but the moment I actually talked to her was the moment the potential of what we could have would end. I would be alone, drifting through a life of noncommitment and imagined ease. Lydia saw me for who I was, with all of my flaws, and still loved me. It was an unfamiliar experience for a vampire.
Deep down, despite everything, there was a part of me that didn’t want to let her go.
As the sun began to set, I followed her to the frozen lake in Regency Meadows Park. She walked up to the counter andpaid for a pair of skates, then sat on the bench next to the lake to put them on. I watched from behind a distant tree. The sunlight bent through the leafless, frost-covered branches, catching Lydia’s silky hair, making it shine with a soft radiance.
“I know you’re there somewhere, George Wickham,” she said softly.
I didn’t move, remaining still as death. Tuned into her voice, her beating heart, her scent, which drifted to me on the breeze.
“You’re welcome, by the way, for the truth potion. I hope it helps or helped.” She tied off the laces on her boots and sat back, looking out over the lake. “I understand that your past has been dangerous, and you have every right to be affected by that. Things right now aren’t exactly smooth sailing, but I want you to know that you have inspired me.”
She rose to her feet and gazed out over the ice. I stood there uncertain of what she was doing. The last time I tried to take Lydia ice skating, she’d gotten hurt and quit.
“When I was a kid, I was so eager to go skating.” She let out a small laugh. “That ended in about five minutes after a traumatic fall and a broken ankle. After that, even the thought of going out again makes my life flash before my eyes.” She took a deep breath. “You’re afraid of letting anyone into yourlife, and that makes sense. You know what I’m afraid of? Ice skating.”
And with that, she pushed off over the ice. She went out as awkward as ever, with nothing to stop her. In a flash, I was at the skates stand, slapping down a ten-dollar bill and grabbing the skates off the shelf.
I rushed to the edge, sluffing off my shoes and getting mine on in record time. Lydia still hadn’t fallen and broken her neck, but she appeared as if any moment that might be a possibility. Why was she being so reckless? What was she trying to prove?
Jerking on the skates, I tied the laces and skated to her, catching her just as she was about to faceplant on the ice.
She glanced up at me, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed, fingers trembling. A smile lit her face. “There you are.”
“What are you doing? You could have been injured.”
“You’re right.” She huffed a nervous laugh, her minty breath drifting up in small clouds. She clutched my arm as if it were a life raft. “Thanks for the save.”
Others skated around us, giving us plenty of room. I gripped her elbows, and her feet slid unsteadily across the ice, threatening to take us both down. “You should be more careful.”
