I was once again glad I’d already moved my important items, and Kennen’s as well.
“The lock spells will be changed as soon as the spellsmith arrives.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes followed my mouth as I formed the words. I ran my fingers over my lips. To want his lips on mine while everything in my life fell apart. Comfort, desire, unease.
“The carriage driver is resting in the next house to the south. He knows where to go. For your safety, you will not. Tell him to come talk to me and I will send you on your way.”
~*~
GABRIEL
I waited no more than a few minutes after the carriage wheels clicked down the street to grab my spellstaff and set off. I arrived at John’s half an hour later.
“Gabriel.” His face lit with surprise as he greeted me in the drawing room. He looked me over. “You look terrible.”
“Why, thank you, John. I appreciate that.”
He motioned toward his study and closed the door behind us, sealing it with an interference charm. “I take it this conversation shouldn’t include listeners.”
“Even servants as well behaved as yours have ears and mouths.”
John leaned forward. “I heard there was another murder.”
“The first victim of the Vein Ripper was Iris Forester.”
He blinked. “Steelcrest’s old crony?”
“And the second victim was Celeste Fomme.”
He stared at me, then pushed back in his chair. “Truly?”
“Yes.”
“She was a tyrant, but dead? And in that…way?”
“Yes.”
He moved a piece of paper across his desk and then another, as if trying to find the answers in parchment. “Why haven’t they released their names until now?”
“As far as I know, they still haven’t been identified.”
His head shot up, his eyes narrowing. “How do you know then?”
“I saw the sketches of the victims. The third was Estelle Moreton. Octavia Winstead was murdered last night.”
John shook his head. “No.” He looked at a portrait on the wall. “I spoke to her recently, you know. Octavia told me she was being stalked. I didn’t believe her.”
This was news to me. “You spoke with her? When? Has she been reported missing?”
“Doubtful. She said she was leaving for the country. That the city wasn’t safe. I thought she had already left. We are hardly friends. But she came to me weeks ago for help.” He crushed a paper in his fist. “I hired an investigator for her, but I didn’t believe her. I should have done something.”
I held my tongue. Octavia had been overly dramatic and given to fits. It was hardly surprising that John hadn’t taken her seriously. That wouldn’t make him feel much better, though. I knew that firsthand. “Did she say anything? Have any idea who was stalking her?”
“Some Steelcrest servant.” He shoved his fingers through his hair, and I was glad the action took his eyes away from me, or else John would have seen my stiffening, the fear I couldn’t mask in time.
“Did she say which one?”
