Seeing Mary through the butler's eyes makes one thing very clear.
He adored her. Worshipped her. You can feel it in every look he gives her. It's nearly stifling. He would do anything for her. That much is clear. What I want to know is would he do anything to her? If his affections were rejected? His name does start with an L.
Sebastian says "ante" and the scenes speed up, like fast-forward. We watch through it all, and I work to catch as many details as I can, but I see nothing out of the ordinary. Leonard was right; he didn't see anything helpful, at least not that I can tell.
"Thank you, Leonard," I say when Sebastian removes the crystal and pockets it. "This was extremely useful."
His eyes brighten at that. "It was?"
"Of course. Mary would be proud."
He smiles.
"Just one more thing," I say. "Would you mind giving us a writing sample? We're asking everyone to supply them just in case we have need of them later."
"No, of course not. What do you want me to write?" he asks, retrieving a note page and pen from a nearby utility drawer.
"Oh, I don't know. How about 'I love being on vacation but hate being away from home so long'?" I suggest, thinking about the note from earlier and trying to get some of the words to match without making it too obvious.
Leonard doesn't question the line at all, just dashes it off with a quick flourish and hands the paper over without a word.
We leave him with a tear in his eye and a heavy heart. Is it just grief that weighs on him? Or does he also carry guilt? Is he the man behind the letters?
Once outside, Sebastian pauses to look at me. "His memories weren't helpful."
"I know," I say.
"Then why did you tell him they were?"
"One, because he needed to hear it. And two, because you can't determine the worth of something so quickly. There are many ways to ascertain something—or someone's—worth." I glare at him pointedly. "In this case, his willingness to give up his memories helped us, even if the memories themselves didn't."
"How so?" Sebastian asks.
"Because he was clearly obsessed with Mary. He could have written those letters. That's why I asked him for the writing sample, just to be sure. He could have killed her in a jealous rage. But unless his memories have been tampered with, he was willing to let us pry into his mind. He probably didn't do it. That's useful information and further narrows our suspect pool, doesn't it?"
He nods. "That's impressive thinking, Eve. And you're right. If his memories haven't been tampered with, then he's most likely eliminated himself as a suspect. Though it doesn't mean he didn't write the letters."
"True. What kind of information can we get about them?" I ask.
"That's Elijah's department. He's got a contact, but they'll only work with him."
Something interrupts my attention, darting past the peripheral of my vision, and I spot the cat I saw earlier, slinking behind a bush. I put a hand on Sebastian's chest to pause him, not taking my eyes off the feline, an idea percolating.
"Those Memory Catcher things. Do they work on animals?"
"They can work on any living thing," Sebastian says. "Except plants. We tried that once. A plant witnessed a murder and we thought we could catch a memory. It… didn't go well."
That sounds like a story for another time, so I press on. "The cat we saw earlier is still here. Which likely means it hangs around the villa a lot. What if we catch its memory and see what it knows?"
Sebastian cocks his head. "That's bloody brilliant. If you keep it still long enough. Cats don't typically like vampires very much."
"Why's that?" I ask, remembering his brother said the same thing when I found Moon.
"Maybe they remember how we fed on them when humans were scarce. Especially during times of plague and famine."
"Ew. Gross." I shift and squat to my knees. "Stay away then. Give me a minute. And give me the memory catcher."
"You don't know how to use it."
"Do I need magic?" I ask.
"No," he says.
I hold out my hand, palm up. "Then I know how to use it."
He sighs and places the crystal in my hand. I wait for him to move away and then creep forward, making clicking sounds with my tongue. "Hey kitty. Come say hi."
The cat peeks out of the bushes and then saunters forward. I hold out my hand and let it come to me. It rubs against my hand, then my arm.
Soon the cat is in my lap purring happily as I scratch its chin and make cooing sounds.
Slowly I set the Memory Catcher in front of it and repeat the word Sebastian used earlier. Once again the crystal glows, then images begin to appear. The perspective of a cat is harder to sift through. They aren't interested in the things we would be, and so I get a lot of small dark spaces and some rats. I whisper "ante" and the images speed up, but still show nothing interesting. As the cat's vision pans another set of feet, I'm about to call it a night when Sebastian steps forward.
"Prohibere!" he says, freezing the memory.
"What is it?" I ask.
He points to the image, which show a pair of feet in expensive shoes. "We've seen Mary's, Leonard's and Dracula's feet so far. These feet don't belong to any of them."
Upon closer inspection I see that he's right, though I hadn't noticed it before. "Then who's feet are they?" I ask.
"I recognize the shoes," Sebastian says, turning his head toward me. "They belong to Liam."
The Confrontation
He that shuts love out, in turn shall be shut out from love, and on her threshold lie, howling in the darkness. ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson
I assume we're heading back to the castle, but Sebastian has Lily stop at a pub on the corner with a wooden sign hanging outside that reads "The Naked Dwarf." He opens the door for me and I step into a smoke-filled dark din full of raucous laughter.
The pub itself is decorated in dark wood-paneled walls and black onyx flooring with dim red lighting giving it an eerie vibe. Sebastian finds us a seat in the back corner near the large fire pit that does a decent job of keeping the place warm despite the slightly damp and mildew-smelling seats. It is as private as we can be in such a place.
"I assumed you might be hungry," he says, as he slides into the booth.
I sit across from him, enjoying the warmth and the smell of freshly baked bread coming from the kitchen. My stomach rumbles and he smiles at the confirmation.
A man comes by to take our order and I have to school my face to not drop my jaw. He's human from the waist up, but from the waist down he's all horse. As I live and breathe, it's a centaur.
"What can I get the two of you?" He eyes Sebastian a moment and says, "Blood?"
Sebastian nods, then they both look to me.
We never got menus, though, and I have no idea what they serve. "Um, what do you suggest?" I ask.
"The stew is good. Vegetable or meat. With fresh bread."
I'm about to order the meat, but Sebastian shakes his head. "Get the vegetable," he says.
"Okay, I'll take the vegetable stew and bread, and some water, please."
"Not water. We'll both have a glass of Elf Juice," Sebastian says, causing the centaur to raise an eyebrow and smile.
"Coming right up."
When he leaves, I face Sebastian. "Why not the meat?" I ask.
"They often use meat sources that humans would find unfavorable," he says.
"Oh. Um. Okay. Such as?"
"All manner of animal. As long as it doesn't talk or shift, it's fair game," he says. "Cats, dogs, horses, pigs, goats, cows, chicken. They're all the same here."
My stomach turns and that delicious smell now inspires a wave of vomit to climb up into my throat. "In theory, I get it. Pigs are smarter than dogs. So why do we eat one and not the other? But in practice, it's too ingrained. I can't."
He nods. "You humans become quite attached to your domesticated animals. But inconsistently so."
"It's true. Looks like I'm becoming vegetarian while we'
re here."
The centaur returns with bread and two blue fizzy drinks.
"What's Elf Juice?" I ask, studying my glass goblet.
"An incredible and rare concoction made by the Woodland Elves from a hard-to-grow berry found in the highest mountains. This is the only tavern in town that's allowed to serve it," he says.
I take a small sip first, then sigh in pleasure and drink more deeply. It is a perfect blend of sweet and tart and it makes my vision swim just enough to enjoy. "This is the best thing I've ever tasted," I say, with a more relaxed smile than I've had all day.
Sebastian returns the smile, sipping his own drink, which is the same blue, but as he drinks it begins to turn purple as it mixes with a red at the center. "Does yours have blood in it?" I ask, enjoying the swirl of color in his glass despite myself.
"It does." He says.
I nod. "It makes a cool color."
He raises an eyebrow and continues drinking as I look around, studying the other diners.
There's a couple who look like they're on a first date. Rough choice of place, dude. She doesn't look happy. She catches my eye and we share a knowing look and rueful smile. I'm only slightly surprised when I look more closely and notice her eyes aren't human, but rather more like those of a fish. Then I notice the sheen to her skin isn't a trick of light, but a reflection off of the iridescent scales on her skin.
"Is that… " I ask Sebastian, my words training off.
"A mermaid? Yes. Though she won't be able to remain on land too long."
"What is the guy she's with?" I ask.
"Werewolf," he says with distaste. "Odd match. I doubt it'll last."
I snort at that. "I agree, but not because of their species difference. He's not impressing her at all."
"Not surprising. He is a werewolf, after all. They're a rather brutish bunch."
The centaur arrives with my food, and I poke my spoon at the thick stew. "You sure this is safe?" I ask.
"I'm sure."
"And these are normal vegetables? Nothing strange or sentient?" I feel like a real lawyer, finding the loopholes in everything.
"Yes, normal vegetables. You have my word." He's got an amused glint in his eyes and I squint at him in distrust, but then decide to take him at his word. I take a small bite, teasing it with my teeth and tongue. "It's quite chewy," I say, when I can finally swallow. "Like a tire."
Sebastian laughs. "So not a fan, then."
I push the bowl away. "Not so much."
I study the man across from me as we drink our Elf Juice and I nibble on bread. His green eyes are intense, his body full of energy.
"Why would Liam be visiting Dracula?" I ask, refocusing our attention back onto the case.
"He wouldn't," Sebastian says, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist.
"You don't think… you don't think Liam is the letter writer, do you?" I ask.
"I do not know. For the sake of this case, my brother, and everyone involved, I certainly hope to gods not."
It's a tense drive back once we've finished our drinks, and Sebastian stalks into the castle. I brace myself for the confrontation I know is about to happen.
We find Liam in his personal quarters, head bent over his desk as he writes in a journal. He slams it shut when we enter, then curses as he knocks over a vial of ink onto a stack of papers. "What do you want?" he growls, avoiding eye contact with me.
Sebastian doesn't say anything, but instead pulls out the crystal and projects the memory of the cat. "Those are your shoes," he says, pointing to Liam's feet. Sure enough, the shoes match.
"So?" he asks.
"So, this memory occurred inside Mary Dracule's bedroom. What the hell were you thinking, Liam? Were you having an affair with our sire's wife?"
Liam stiffens, then stands. I step back, not wanting to get in between two vampire brothers, but not wanting to miss anything important either. A flash tingles in my mind and flows down my body like electricity. Something is happening.
"What I do is my business, not yours," Liam hisses, his face inches away from his brother's.
Sebastian laughs mockingly. "Really? Because this sure as hell looks like it's all our business now!"
"What's all our business?" Derek asks, walking in with Elijah by his side.
"Private meeting. Go away," says Liam.
"Is that any way to greet your brother?" Derek asks with a charming smile, not the least bit put off by Liam's attitude. "I came to find out if you tracked down anything about who might have it in for our beloved sire, but it seems I've walked into something much juicier. Pray tell."
Liam jerks his head at Elijah. "And what are you doing here?" he asks, ignoring Derek's question.
Elijah holds up a journal. "Research. I needed to borrow a book and happened to arrive at the same time as Derek."
"How convenient," he says, then glares at me as if it's my fault. "What did you do?"
"Me? Nothing. What could I do?" I ask.
He scoffs. "As if you don't know."
Now everyone in the room is confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Did you think you could hide the truth from us?" Liam asks.
He shifts positions and stalks to me. The other brothers step closer, presumably to protect me if hothead here loses his shit again.
Sebastian glances at me, then grabs Liam's arm. "Stop trying to change the subject. It's just as well everyone is here so I don't have to repeat it." He turns to address Derek and Elijah. "Liam, here, has been paying visits to Mary behind Vlad's back. We also found love letters she had hidden, signed by the letter L. I'm trying to determine if he was having an affair with her."
"I wasn't," Liam says.
"But you were visiting her?" Derek asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
There’s a long pause, and it’s clear Liam is debating how much of the truth to tell us.
“Let me remind you,” Sebastian says, “we have evidence you were at their house.”
“What kind of evidence?” Derek asks.
“A memory,” Sebastian says.
Liam scoffs. “Those are easily tampered with and you know it.”
“It was the memory of a cat,” I say, speaking for the first time. “Unless cats on this world are something quite newsworthy, I doubt it’s been tampered with.”
“Show me,” Derek says, frowning and glancing suspiciously at Liam.
Sebastian plays the memory, pausing at Liam’s shoes.
Derek and Elijah lean in, studying the frozen projection.
“Your penchant for custom clothing might be your undoing after all,” Elijah says dryly to his fuming brother.
Liam finally nods curtly. “Yes, I was there. Okay? I was there. But not for the reasons you think.”
"Why, then?” Derek asks. “What could possibly justify you going against our sire like that?”
Liam steps back and paces in front of his fireplace. "It's not what it looks like. Mary reached out to me. She needed help and didn't know who else to ask."
"What did she need help with?" I ask.
Liam glares at me again. "Her baby. She was worried about her pregnancy and needed a healer. So she called me."
"You're a healer?" I ask, the astonishment clear in my voice.
"I was," he says. "Before the curse. She thought that since I'm a vampire who was a healer, I could help her. She was very sick and worried she wouldn’t make it through the pregnancy alive.”
A pause descends on the room as the brothers take each other's measures.
“Why risk it?” Elijah asks. “Why risk everything for Vlad's wife?”
“I took an oath, before the sacred groves of our ancestors.” His voice is plaintive, broken. “I vowed to provide healing to those in need. How could I refuse her?”
“Who else knows?” Derek asks, and I can see his mind working, trying to sort out how best to contain this in the midst of the trial.
"No one," Liam says. "We were beyond careful."
"Why
meet at her house?" I ask. "Why not somewhere else, where you were less likely to get caught?"
"This isn't your business," Liam hisses at me.
Derek opens his mouth, but I beat him to the punch. "Actually, it is. I work here. I'm working on the defense team. That makes it my business whether you like it or not."
Derek's mouth snaps closed, and Sebastian smiles despite himself. Elijah raises an eyebrow and gives a brief nod of his head in encouragement.
Liam, seeing no one else will be coming to his defense, relents. "Vlad had her house-bound. He claimed it was for the safety of her and their unborn child, but he was just jealous and paranoid."
"Seems he was justified in his paranoia, assuming he's as innocent as he claims," Sebastian says.
Liam just grunts at that.
"What about the letters?" I ask.
Liam frowns. "What letters?"
Sebastian pulls the missives out of his leather satchel and hands them to his brother, who studies them. "I have no idea what these are," Liam says with what appears to be genuine confusion.
"You didn't write them?" I ask.
"No, I didn’t write them. Why would you think I had?"
I roll my eyes. "Really? Because you were there. In secret. They are signed with an L. And you're acting awfully defensive."
He shoves the papers back into Sebastian's hands. "I didn't write them. I've never seen them before."
I cock my head and study him. I don't know if he's telling the whole truth, but I don’t think he's lying about the letters. "Do you have any idea who might have written them?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "I can't even imagine who might have. She was pretty isolated."
Great. A dead end.
"We need to contain this," Elijah says. "If the prosecution gets ahold of this information, it's going to make our defense a hell of a lot more complicated."
I Am the Wild (The Night Firm Book 1) Page 13