by A. L. Tyler
“They would care that Axel Hayden had an affair,” Nick said sharply. “Sergio exited the Bleak’s relatively good graces around the time Skyla was conceived, but that’s a close brush with the crime world for someone they’ve left in control of the Vault.”
I frowned. He was right. If the Bleak caught wind of this, it didn’t bode well for Molly and Skyla.
Or Amos.
Or Rogers, Shaina, Callum...
This was more than a powder keg. This was potential infiltration by the Packs—one of the Bleak’s most hated enemies—into one of the most supposedly secure facilities on the planet. This was a bombshell. No one would escape interrogation.
Someone on the estate was guilty. If we didn’t want everyone to suffer the consequences, this secret had to remain unspoken.
Nick was already texting on his phone.
“What are you doing?”
He groaned, tossing the phone onto the nightstand. He got back on the bed and buried his face in a pillow before turning to face me. “I reported in while I was looking for a suicide note. I intended to hand this off to another handler in this territory. Someone local might know more about what goes on here or who is most suspicious. A handler’s been assigned, but he’s already working a takedown on a forger. He can be here in two days, and we’ve been instructed to keep everyone on the island in the meantime.”
I nodded. “Two days. We can do that.”
“The weather reports updated between then and now,” Nick said. “The channel is likely to be unsafe for travel starting tomorrow morning.”
I lowered my chin. “Unsafe for how long?”
“Estimates are at four days. Less optimistic stations are saying a week. And even then, access to the boat is going to be patchy. Lost wolves like the dark, and with all the rain and fog, it’s going to be dark. We’re experiencing a late-season La Niña event in conjunction with the remnants of a typhoon, whatever the hell that means.”
I lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Wow. So... What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to stay here, trapped on an island with lost wolves and a murderer, and hope for the best.” Nick lay back next to me. “Or, we could forget all of that and pick up where we left off in the Vault.”
The wind continued to slap at the window as thunder lit up the dark silhouettes beyond.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
“I didn’t think so.”
My phone chimed. It was from Marge.
Where the hell are my swimsuit pics?
IT TOOK ME HOURS TO fall asleep that night. My hand crept across a cold, still body when I woke up.
“Gods!” I sat straight up in the bed.
Nick stared back at me over the top of the book he was reading. “Morning.”
Vampires can seem very corpse-like, what with the inhuman stillness, cold body temperature, and occasional lack of pulse and breathing. After the night we’d had, I wasn’t sure if I appreciated waking up next to him or not.
“You can have the first shower if you want.” He turned a page. “Leave the door open if it makes you feel safer.”
I gave him a long look.
Nick didn’t even look up from his book. “That wasn’t a line. Someone’s been murdered, and I’ve done this enough to know that without an escape, the next order of business is to take out the people trying to take you in. That’s us. So, shower with the door open, if you want. I will.”
I got my bag and went to the bathroom, fussing over exactly how many inches open constituted both safe and appropriate. I showered as quickly as I could and stared at the door like someone was going to come busting in with an ax while Nick took his shower.
Breakfast that morning was about as awkward as dinner the night before. I watched Amos eat a salad composed entirely of mushrooms and sprouts with a pair of wooden chopsticks while Rogers stared at his laptop and slurped a cup of coffee, muttering something about foreign markets. The wolves skittered by outside in the fog.
Nick did the honors of pulling Shaina into the room to announce Axel’s passing.
Amos leaned forward, sprouts still hanging from his mouth. “My father was murdered last night?”
“Oh dear,” Roger said. He set down his coffee and started typing on his phone at whirlwind speed. “Oh dear, oh dear...”
Shaina covered her mouth, leaning back against the wall behind her.
“How do you know he was murdered?” Amos asked. “I mean, was he stabbed? Strangled?”
Nick gave him a discerning look. “We’re not sure yet. The body was discovered outside—”
Shaina gasped, turning away.
“—so we haven’t been able to examine it yet. As soon as the fog breaks, we’ll know more. Until then, no one is to leave the house.”
Rogers raised his hands to cover his mouth.
“Rogers?” Nick asked in exasperation. “What?”
“It’s Cal,” Rogers said. “Axel’s brother. I received a text last night. He rented a small yacht yesterday evening hoping to make it before sunset, but he didn’t make it due to the storm. He’s been anchored thirty feet off the dock on the assumption that we’d retrieve him when we could.” He gestured at his phone. “The man didn’t pack for this. He doesn’t have food, and he can’t sail back in the weather.”
The sounds of Skyla and Molly attempting to lug their bags to the front door rang out in the hallway.
“We’ll get Cal when the weather gives us a break. I’m sorry for your loss.” Nick nodded at me and then toward the hall.
I wasn’t sure what he expected me to do, but I went anyway.
Molly was pale, but Skyla’s cheeks were flushed red beneath her dark hair. They stopped in the entranceway.
“You don’t want to do that,” I said as Skyla’s hand landed on the door handle.
She barely glanced at me. “I told you last night, Agent Driftwood. I’m taking my mother and we’re leaving. She didn’t do this.”
I raised my hands submissively. Skyla still had a death grip on the front door.
“The wolves are still active out there,” I said. “Because of the fog. I just saw them by the windows in the dining room.”
Skyla grimaced, tense cheeks twitching in anger, and then she let her hand fall to her side. “We’re still leaving. As soon as possible. My mother didn’t do this.”
“No one is leaving.” I looked over my shoulder to see Rogers coming down the hallway. Amos, Shaina, and Nick followed him. “Not until a thorough investigation has yielded results.”
“My mother didn’t do this!” Skyla said stubbornly. “We were in Axel’s office discussing business!”
Nick raised his eyebrows. “Both of you were... discussing business with Axel?”
I crossed my arms. “Funny you didn’t mention this last night.”
The look we shared said that Nick didn’t believe her story any more than I did. Skyla was protecting her mother... And herself.
“Funny you didn’t ask,” Skyla shot back at me. “I was with my mother the whole time. She couldn’t have done it.”
Rogers cocked his head to the side, looking from one to the other. “Convenient that you’re each the other’s alibi, but I was certainly hoping Warren would start this investigation logically.” He nodded at me. “She’s the only person here with a criminal record. She’s also a known thief of magic, and as opportunities go, they don’t get better than this.”
Chapter 7
“Jette isn’t a suspect,” Nick said. He crossed his arms. “She didn’t do this.”
“And you know this how?” Rogers asked.
Nick looked at me, keeping his breathing even, but this wasn’t a time for discretion. “She was with me in the Vault. And we both know she wouldn’t have gained access there unless she passed higher scrutiny.”
Skyla looked from Nick to Rogers. “You won’t take my word, but you’ll take his? They weren’t together last night when they found my mother. Isn’t that righ
t, mom? He came first, and she came second.”
“We were together in the vault,” Nick said, his quiet patience wearing thin. “I move faster than she does.”
“You’re together,” Skyla said with enmity. “And she’s got you wrapped around her finger so tight that you’d say anything. You’re leaving us out of this, or I’ll get my father involved.”
“Skyla!” Molly hissed. “Stop!”
“That’s enough,” Nick said. “Listen to your mother. I know Sergio, and he wouldn’t embroil himself in the murder investigation of Axel Hayden for anything. Not even you.”
“You didn’t come here as partners,” Skyla blustered on. “You came here as partners, probably because she’s trying to sleep her way back into the Bleak’s favor—”
“I don’t need to sleep my way anywhere,” I said coolly. “I have genuine talent. Not money. Not a daddy I can name drop. I have a special gift, and it lets me hear things that most people can’t hear. Like magical signatures. Like Axel’s, Ms. Wolffkyn. And yours.”
I looked directly at Molly. Her eyes were wide with terror as she swallowed, landing clawed fingers on her daughter’s arm.
“That’s enough, Skyla!” she hissed. “Leave it be! We can trust they were together if they can trust we were together. That still leaves three people unaccounted for, and one of them stood to inherit a lot of money on Axel’s passing!”
All eye landed on Amos.
“I didn’t do it,” Amos said simply.
“You’re obviously not bothered by it!” Molly accused.
Amos shrugged, shoulders slumped and one hand on his short beard as he stood a little outside the circle. “I am bothered by it, but what can I say? He pushed me away. We’ve been distant for years now. I was trying to come home this time. I wanted to reconnect, but now the chance is gone.”
“To reconnect?” Molly spat. “Convenient.”
Amos showed both of his palms. “I’m getting married. I’m going to be a father. It seemed like the kind of thing I should tell him in person.”
Molly drew in a sharp breath. Skyla chewed her lip and looked away.
“My fiancé is coming in a few days.” Amos went to sit in a high-back chair with a navy blue cushion by the stair. “She’s a fantastic businesswoman, and she’s helped me get my affairs in order. I thought dad would like her.”
The room fell silent.
“But you don’t have an alibi,” Rogers said.
Nick looked up at him in disbelief. “I don’t think you’ve got one yourself, old friend.”
Rogers stood a little straighter. Shaina shifted her weight uncertainly.
“I was assisting Shaina in cleaning the dining room and kitchen,” Rogers said. “I brought in the plates and she washed.”
Nick cocked his head with a small smile. “And you were together the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“You could always see each other?”
“Of course.”
“You can’t see the kitchen from the dining room.”
“We were never apart more than a full minute. Hardly enough time to kill Axel.”
Nick turned his intimidating frame and gaze on Shaina. “Is what he says true?”
“Yes,” she said. “I was with Mr. Rogers. He offered to clean after the party because it was late and we’re not used to having so much company.”
Nick nodded, stepping back. He looked around at each of us. “There you have it. Someone here is an exceptional liar.”
Or, I thought, trying to keep my dread in check, there’s someone else in the house.
“THERE’S NO ONE ELSE in the house.” Nick cast me a questioning look as he donned his ankle holster. Trust me. I’m a vampire, and I have excellent hearing. I would know if there was another heartbeat around here.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, unconvinced. “Unless it’s a zombie.”
“We’d all be smelling that.”
I snapped my fingers. “Or another vampire.”
He scoffed. “I would know if there was another vampire here. We’re territorial beings. It’s like a sixth sense—never mind, I’d just know. There’s no one else here, and there’s no need for a further explanation. No one we talked to has an alibi, and there was plenty of opportunity and motive. Molly and Skyla are lying about being together. It’s possible this was a lover’s spat, or Skyla discovered the affair and took care of it in her father’s fashion. Amos was alone and is the sole heir.” He raised his eyebrows. “Rogers and Shaina are lying, too, though I bet they were together. Not cleaning.”
I ran a hand through my hair before pulling it back into a ponytail. He was right, of course, but I could hardly imagine anyone here being a murderer.
Skyla was passionate, but I knew flailing when I saw it. She was panicking. That didn’t fit with the carefully executed nature of the crime. The kind of grief and shock Molly had displayed was hard to fake, and I’d seen it often enough during my time in the evidence room to know. If Nick was right about Rogers and Shaina being together, that left Amos.
He hadn’t been grieved. He hadn’t even been completely surprised, and his question about whether or not Axel had been stabbed or strangled suddenly rang distracting in my mind. He might have been trying to throw us off.
But gods, I didn’t want it to be him. He was beginning his life, and he’d come here seeking reconciliation.
Nick pulled on his usual trench coat, folding down the collar and checking his guns and blades one last time. “All right. It’s ten minutes to the dock and ten back taking the direct route. The boathouse is warded, so that’s where we’ll be if the weather catches us while Cal docks. Stay here, don’t worry, and if anyone starts to panic or act strange, shoot first and ask questions later.”
I nodded, though I didn’t entirely agree. A man was dead: everyone was panicking and acting strangely. Adding fireballs to the mix wasn’t likely to calm things down.
I wasn’t fond of Nick walking into the thick fog with werewolves on the loose, either. I shook my head. “I’m going with you.”
He forced a laugh. “There’s no need to be nervous. You’ve got this.”
“I’m worried about you.” I stood up. “You think you’ve got good hearing, but mine is better where the wolves are concerned. I will hear them before you do.”
“I’ve dealt with the wolves before.”
I tilted my head. “I’ve seen the scar. Why not avoid the fight to begin with?”
He took a step toward me, emphasizing how much taller he was as I looked up to keep his gaze. “And what are you going to do about it if you hear them coming?”
I raised a hand and a fireball sang to life like a screaming banshee. “I’m stronger than you are.”
“You’re less experienced.” He raised a hand, letting his fingers trail the collar of my leather jacket. His thumb brushed against my neck as a smile played in his eyes. “Take your jacket off.”
Beyond some minor charms, the Bleak had removed Nick’s powers of hypnotism. I still felt frozen beneath his light touch. “What?”
“Your jacket. Take it off.” He dropped his hand and held it out, waiting.
When I draped it over his waiting arm, he winked at me before turning to go.
“Wait! What are we doing?” I trailed after him.
I was hardly able to keep up as Nick ducked back and forth across the long plush runners on the hardwood, finding his way through the halls and stairs. He stopped in front of a door and knocked lightly.
I was coming to a stop, catching my breath and glaring at Nick when Rogers opened the door.
Nick held up my jacket. “I need some wards. The same you did for me before.”
Rogers stared at the jacket, then looked at me, bewildered. “The wards on the house are going to hold, correct?”
I ducked a little, like the place was going to fall down around me. “Yes. Why? What do you know?”
Rogers grabbed the jacket as he exited his room. He started to walk. �
�I know Warren wants to give you extra security, and while I believe Ms. Wolffkyn is correct in her insinuation, I know Nick doesn’t do anything—including becoming wrapped around a woman’s finger—unless he wants to.”
He stopped in front of a door, fishing a ring of many silver and gold keys from his pocket before looking Nick directly in the eye. “Why does she need these protections?”
“We’re going to get Cal. I’m taking her with me.”
Rogers started to put the keys away. “Go alone. You know the rules.”
I compulsively reached toward the keys before making a conscious effort to stop. The look Rogers gave me accused me of theft all over again.
“Rules?” I asked.
“No one risks the wolves,” Rogers said. “And if someone must, the tragedies should be mitigated. Axel’s rules. Ms. Driftwood, were he alive, he would not allow you to leave. Especially if this decision is being made on emotional grounds.”
“It’s being made on the grounds that her presence could mitigate my tragedy,” Nick said quickly. “She has a gift that allows her to see the wolves in the fog.”
Rogers’ eyebrows shot up. “If my research is correct, she has a gift that allows her to hear wolves in the fog. My answer—Axel’s answer—is still no. Especially considering her unique nature and value—”
“Gods help me.” Nick stared Rogers down. “Do not refer to her like she’s one of his precious collectibles. I came to you as a friend, but I will ask as an agent of the Bleak if I have to, Rogers. She’s my consultant. Ward the jacket.”
To his credit, Rogers didn’t flinch. “I do not want her blood on my hands, Warren.” He flicked the keys and stuck one in the lock. “Do not let her die out there.”
Chapter 8
We walked into a room lined with closed cabinets on every wall. The deep cherry tones of the wood made the space feel smaller than it was, and Rogers dragged his hand along the panels until he stopped in front of the right one.
He knocked twice. The cabinet opened, and he drew out a simple linen bag, made heavy at the bottom by whatever contents it held.