“Exactly.” Mina pours some freeze-dried berries and nuts into a bowl and places it beside the raven’s bust. The birdpecks greedily at his treats, making cutenyuh-nyuh-nyuhnoises as he crunches the nuts. “That was a famous fictional vampire made entirely of clichés and evil who will never bother us again, whereas Alaric is arealvampire, one of many who live alongside us and are just trying to do their best in a world not built for them. Usually, the supernatural world won’t bother us if we don’t bother them, although in recent years, we’ve seen more unruly paranormal activity in Argleton. Not just vampires, but other things that storybooks tell us we should be afraid of. I have a friend over in Grimdale, Bree, who sees and talks to ghosts. And now we’ve got Danny’s murder?—”
“I think Winnie needs proof.” Dora pats my arm.
“I suppose she does.” Mina turns towards the raven, who taps the bust with his beak and glares at Mina.
“Croak.”
“I’m sorry, Quoth. Just this once.” Mina places the latest Emily Henry novel on the sofa beside her.
The raven makes a sound that might be a sigh and swoops down to land next to the book.
“Croak!”
And then he changes.
At first, the bird starts growing at an alarming rate, his talons digging into the sofa as it sags beneath his growing weight. His body contorts. His face twists and flattens, his cheeks rounding as his beak splits into a nose and lips. Bones snap and twist and organs rearrange themselves as black feathers rain down on the floor. The raven bellows as his wings fold away into his spine and his feathers retract into his skin.
The raven no longer perches on the sofa.
Instead, a beautiful, black-haired,completely nakedman grabs the book from beside him and holds it over his crotch, where it does little to hide his majestic and very un-raven-like goods.
“It’s times like this I wish Emily Henry wrote epic fantasy.” The naked man flips a curtain of black hair over his shoulder and frowns at theinadequate book.
“Winnie, this is Quoth, one of my three husbands.” Mina rubs the man’s shoulder. “Quoth is the raven from Edgar Allen Poe’s poem, brought to life by Nevermore Bookshop, which is a wee bit magical.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Quoth murmurs. “I’d shake your hand, but …”
He indicates the book.
“Ah …” I try to say something,anything, but I can’t find words.
Mina’s husband is a shapeshifter. I’ve just witnessed real, honest-to-goddessmagic.
Everything they’ve told me is true. Which means …
I wrap my arms around myself. “If this is all true, and Alaric is a vampire, then he must be the one who murdered Danny. Even the police think so. I’ve been living with a monster this whole time!”
“Who murdered Danny?” Komal asks as she wanders in, stopping to kiss everyone on the cheeks. She’s wearing her Argleton HeliTours t-shirt. “I thought we were investigating the Sanctus Estate and this Baylor person?”
“Winnie just found out that Alaric’s a vampire.”
Komal pops the cork on the bottle of wine she brought. “About time. We did tell you. Wine?”
I hold up my teacup. “I’m good.”
“You don’t look good. You look white. I mean, you’re always white, but now you’re even whiter. You look like an ad for Moleskine notebooks.”
“Are Moleskine notebooks a white people thing?” Mina asks.
Komal flips her hair. “If you have to ask, white girl …”
Isis quietly slides her own notebook under her bag.
“We don’t believe Alaric is the murderer,” Dora says. “Otherwise we never would have let you go back to the castle.”
“Why not? He was angry at Danny because he was harassing me. And when Danny didn’t leave me alone, Alaric pretended to be my boyfriend by … er … kissing me.” My cheeks flush with heat as Komal wolf-whistles. “Reginald says that Alaric isn’t usedto being around humans, and that he’s been struggling ever since I showed up. What if he lost control that night?”
“It’s certainly plausible,” Mina says. “But we’ve already ruled out Alaric.”
