ASTRID
It feels strange being back in Greenhollow. I watch the familiar streets go by from my window in the small horse-drawn coach. We had to walk from Davenport Estate to downtown Larklawn on foot to procure the cab. Since Davenport is located in the countryside just outside the city, it was quite the walk. I expected Larklawn to hold some element of nostalgia when we arrived, considering it’s where I spent the first few years of my life with Father, but it didn’t. Turns out, I remember very little from my time there. Entering Greenhollow, on the other hand, brought memories back in an instant. Memories of attending dinners and luncheons with the Hardings. Memories of enduring Danielle’s constant scorn.
Memories of how everything went so terribly wrong.
I feel the hum of my magic begin to return. Before it can fully snap into place, I reach inside my pocket until my fingers meet something soft buried at the bottom. Before we left the manor, Torben handed me a long strip of red velvet—a hair ribbon—and mumbled something about having bought it for me while I was recovering because he thought I’d find the texture pleasing. He was right. Even through my thin lace gloves, the feel of the soft fabric immediately sets my nerves at ease and helps me breathe my magic away. Thank the All of All it does. I know he’s using the cab ride as a test of sorts, giving me the chance to practice my fledgling mastery over my magic. If I slip up or lose control completely between now and when we arrive at the Hardings, he’ll surely make me wait in the cab.
I hazard a glance at Torben beside me. Our cab is a two-seater, which places us so close that the hem of my skirt brushes his legs. He stares out the window with a blank expression, posture tense. I can tell he’s nervous about our meeting, but whether he’s more anxious about what our visit will uncover or that he agreed to let me come along, I know not.
I return my attention to my window. Our cab has reached the end of town where the smaller homes give way to large manors and sprawling estates. My heart thuds faster and faster the closer we get to the Hardings’ residence. Part of me hopes no one will be there to receive us, Danielle in particular, but that’s a ridiculous notion. Even though I dread the thought of seeing Danielle again, if she’s responsible for my father’s death, we need to know about it. The sooner we solve his murder and prove my innocence, the better. It doesn’t matter how uncomfortable it is for me. I need to do this. For Father.
The coach turns down a long drive flanked by immaculate shrubs. My heart leaps into my throat. We’re here.
“Are you all right?”
I jump at the sound of Torben’s voice but turn the sudden movement into a feigned attempt at smoothing my skirts. “Yes, I’m fine.”
He shakes his head. “At least you’re practiced at the lying part for today’s scheme. Are you sure you can do this? You remember everything we talked about?”
I nod, a jagged motion. “Stay calm. Keep my magic at bay.”
Torben releases a resigned sigh, then hands me something. It’s his special coin. “You must do all the talking that involves a lie, but keep as close to the truth as you can. And be sure to show them this.”
I take the coin from him and examine it up close. It’s about half the size of my palm and bears an elegantACon both sides. “This won’t give you away? That you’re the Huntsman?”
“No. It only shows that I’m working directly under the Alpha Council and am to be given any accommodations requested without question. Some know me by appearance, obviously, especially those I’ve worked with before. But a human family, even one with a pureblood fae matriarch, won’t know me on sight. Especially if you manage our ruse well.”
I slip the coin into the pocket of my wool coat next to my velvet ribbon. “Show them the coin. Do all the lying. Keep our ruse close to the truth. I can do that.” Does he hear the note of panic in my voice? My magic threatens to ignite again, so I run my fingers over my ribbon.
I can do this, I tell myself.This is just like one of my matchmaking investigations.
The cab rolls to a stop before the Hardings’ manor. My heart rages against my ribs.
Just like matchmaking,I repeat in my mind.
Except this time, I have to use my real face.
* * *
Our ruse getsus through the front door and into the parlor, courtesy of the maid who received us. Torben and I sit silently on a floral-patterned couch awaiting our hostess. According to the maid, we’ll be meeting with Sandy Harding. Barton is out on business. It was almost too good to be true, for meeting with Sandy instead of Barton just might be in our favor. Since Mrs. Harding is full fae, she won’t be able to lie.
Soon the parlor door opens to reveal a familiar female. We rise to our feet as Sandy Harding strolls into the room to greet us. She’s a tall woman with curly brown hair assembled in an updo that reveals the tips of her pointed ears. That’s the only clue that she’s fae. I never learned what her unseelie form is, or what kind of elemental or animal affinity she favors, and there’s nothing about her seelie form to suggest what it might be. She has no horns, no scales, no wings. No unique color of hair or skin. Her dress is elegant yet austere, its style the epitome of human modesty.
She meets my eyes, and the first test of my control begins. Will she recognize me? Can I maintain a strong enough hold on my magic to keep it from snapping into place? Eye contact is normally the trigger that raises my magic from a hum to a roar and ignites the magical impression, and as I lock eyes with our hostess, I feel my magic’s pull. It lashes against its bonds like a tethered animal. The way my pulse races makes me feel as if I stand before a threat. But it’s only eye contact. Not a true danger. Not a growl or a baring of teeth.
Have I always felt this way when I meet another’s eyes?
I shake the question from my mind and take a deep, steady breath. Finally, Mrs. Harding shifts her gaze from me to Torben. Not an ounce of recognition flashes in her eyes.
I did it. Blooming hell, I really did it.
“How can I help you?” Sandy asks, tone uncertain. “My maid says you’re here on an investigation.”
Donning a polite smile, I say, “Yes, Mrs. Harding. I appreciate you receiving our visit unannounced. I’m Detective White and this is my partner, Detective Bjorn.”
Her gaze shifts between us. “What is this about?”
With trembling hands, I extract Torben’s coin from my pocket and flash it before her.
