I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I admitted. I tried to rack my brain for the memory of my conversation with Russell but so much had happened since then, it was difficult to remember. I didn’t think he knew Sabrina knew. This didn’t actually surprise me. Russell was extremely arrogant where he believed his wife was too insipid to know what he was up to. Clearly, she knew, and more than that, she resolved to take care of it herself.
“Why not just...divorce?” Shane asked.
I blinked, so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I had forgotten he was there at all. Which was just stupid, considering if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t know who truly killed Mary Stone. Although, technically, Sabrina’s magic on Mary Stone could possibly be explained if she had the right lawyer - and she would, considering she was a Charming and had unlimited resources - but deep down, I knew she was responsible.
“You think the Charmings would ever divorce?” Peter asked, his lips curving into a small smile. “That’s cute.”
“They would never,” Rumple agreed. It was the first words out of his mouth in a while.
“What I’m more curious about is why would Sabrina kill Mary Stone herself?” Peter hopped off the chair and began to pace up and down the small expanse of the room. “Why not hire someone to do it for her?”
That was a good point.
“She wanted it to be personal,” Shane said. His voice was cool and knowing, as though he understood. “Someone threatened the world she carefully built up, and she wanted to take out the threat herself.”
“Seems careless,” Peter said. “I didn’t know Sabrina Charming cared about her marriage that much.”
“Maybe it’s not her marriage,” I said, my mind racing. I lifted up a finger as ideas filled my brain. “Maybe it’s the legacy. The inheritance. Maybe the personal reason wasn’t that Mary Stone was a threat to her and her marriage, but her sons and their inheritance.” I looked over at Rumple. “Does she know about Rory?”
Rumple clenched his jaw. A warning flashed in his eyes. I knew what he was trying to say. I knew that he couldn’t say, and me asking him frustrated him. It wasn’t like I was intentionally trying to frustrate him. It was a natural instinct. I asked him questions because he typically knew the answer. He was someone I relied on heavily, and it bothered me that I couldn’t get information out of him the way I wanted to.
Not that I only cared about information and that was it. I loved Rumple for everything he was. It was just, I liked being part of his team. I liked that we worked so well together. And the fact that he couldn’t work with me on this upset me more than I realized.
And maybe him too.
Maybe he was frustrated because he wanted to help but couldn’t.
Because of me.
This was my father all over again. He was doing things that went against his very nature in the name of protection.
Honestly, at this point, I wished people would stop protecting me and just help me learn how to protect myself.
“Rory?” Peter asked. “The girl you helped with her mother. Her mother being Mary Stone.” His eyebrows raised high up his forehead. “Russell Charming is Rory Rose’s father? Does he know? Does she?”
“Calm down with your incessant questions,” Rumple said. “Clearly, Russell Charming knows all about Rory Rose and her relation to himself.”
“Clearly?” I asked. I wasn’t trying to challenge him, especially not in front of anyone else, but I didn’t think that was clear at all. In fact, Peter’s questions were legitimate. If I was in his shoes, I’d be asking the same thing. I wasn’t sure where this attitude was coming from, but it might have to do with the fact that he couldn’t do much of anything at all when it came to Mary Stone and her murderer - Sabrina Charming.
I wondered what this all meant for him, then. Did us knowing lift the agreement he had made with her? Or did it make things worse?
Part of me wanted to ask him while the other part of me didn’t. I didn’t want to be disappointed or frustrated with something Rumple couldn’t help because of magic that bonded him to something, especially since it had to do with me.
“Yes, clearly,” Rumple said. His tone didn’t soften as he spoke to me, and he certainly wasn’t attempting to come over and caress my face or soften his glare. I didn’t think he blamed me for what he was going through; Rumple had never been petty with me before, but I didn’t like the way he was talking to me. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me either. “What do you expect them to do, Alice? Arrest her? You realize they know what she did. Her magic was on the body. They aren’t stupid. They know.”
“Then why…?”
“Why do you think?” Rumple said, except he didn’t have anything else to say.
“I...I need to talk to my father,” I said. He was right, of course. There was no way my father didn’t know the truth about Mary Stone. When I had confronted him with it before, he didn’t even try to deny it. But now that I had proof, maybe he’d be forced to do something. “Maybe he’ll arrest Sabrina. Maybe we can finally reopen what happened to Mary Stone.”
My mind started to race. I couldn’t help but think about Anna, about what happened to her. Was this what she found out? That Sabrina killed Mary Stone, that Mary wasn’t the Mad Mage’s first victim? I thought that was what Jack said, that Anna told him she discovered the truth or something. I couldn’t remember the details. But if Anna knew Mary Stone’s killer wasn’t the Mad Mage...was Anna killed to keep her mouth shut? Could Shane run DNA on Anna’s body too?
I looked at him for a long minute. I was sure I looked like a ghost - wide-eyes, pale, lips pressed into a thin line so my thoughts wouldn’t force themselves out of my mouth.
“What?” Shane asked. His tone was defensive, and he leaned on the counter, waiting. He was a wolf, after all, and I was looking at him like I wanted something. He had a right to be suspicious. I couldn’t blame him for that.
“You ran DNA on Anna’s body?” I asked in a low voice.
“Anna…?” He tilted his head to the side.
“Skaarsgard.”
“You think something might have been missed?” Peter asked.
“We already know there was magic on her body when magic shouldn’t have been able to kill her,” I pointed out. “If Sabrina Charming killed Mary Stone, maybe she -”
“She didn’t,” Rumple interjected, his tone firm.
“If Sabrina found out he was having an affair with Anna,” I said, “and she killed Mary Stone for that some reason -”
“We don’t know why Mary Stone was killed,” Rumple pointed out. “And we don’t know if Anna Skaarsgard was killed because of that either.”
I opened my mouth, shut it, then opened it again. I didn’t like how helpless he was being. I didn’t like that every suggestion I had, he had the audacity to shut it down without offering up a different solution. I understood that he was having issues with his deal he made years ago, long before he even met me, but that wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t like I told him to make that deal.
Instead of arguing, I glanced over at Peter. “I’m going to talk to my father,” I repeated. “Shane, do you have a printout I can hand him so he can see everything for himself?”
“Sure,” he said. “I can go grab one.”
I didn’t look at Rumple. I had no interest doing so. I didn’t want to see his face, didn’t want to see any kind of look there. What if there was disappointment? Annoyance? Frustration? I knew myself well enough to know I’d react, and I didn’t want to fight with him. I knew his deal wasn’t exactly his fault, either. I doubted even he could predict he would have a weakness nearly twenty-five years later, a weakness he would do anything to protect. But that didn’t mean I could just stand around and not do anything either.
When Shane came back, he handed me a manilla folder. I flipped it open. There, in black and white, was everything I needed. It said exactly what happened. There were results that were difficult to understand simply because it was written in the scient
ific expression of the chemical makeup of everything found on Mary Stone’s body, but it was all there.
“Can you still run a test on Anna?” I asked Shane. I still wouldn’t look at Rumple.
“I’ve run tests on her before,” he said. “At the time of her murder and now.” I blinked. I knew Shane was some kind of shifter who recently broke away from his pack of Lycans and the Blood Forest, but I hadn’t realized they shared a lifespan with the Fae. It wasn’t exactly immortality, but it wasn’t normal, either. “I found traces of magic before, and I ran it through the Spark system, but it didn’t match anyone on file. I can run it again, but I have a feeling it’s going to come up the same.”
“Okay,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
I pressed the folder to my chest and turned. Finally, my eyes met Rumple’s.
“I’m going to talk to my dad,” I stated. I could feel both Peter and Shane looking at us, but I did my best to ignore them. Right now, I needed to figure things out with Rumple.
“All right, darling,” he said smoothly. I nearly flinched at the sound of his voice. I didn’t like how fake it was. This was the voice he used when talking to other people. Not when he talked to me. “I have business to attend to, but I shall meet up with you later.”
“But, I -”
Rumple reached out and cupped my cheek in his hand, cutting off anything I was about to say. “Be good,” he said. “Stay safe.”
And before I could say anything else, he disappeared.
I blinked. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or disappointed. Part of me wanted him to come with me to speak to my father. I didn’t want to go alone. I wasn’t even sure why. But then, another part of me knew that regardless if Rumple was here or not, I had to tell him. The likelihood of him actually doing anything was small, but I had to try.
We said goodbye to each other. Shane was already ready to leave since his shift was going to end soon. I offered Peter a ride home but he told me he would catch one with Shane. I wasn’t sure if it was because he needed some time to process everything he learned tonight or if he was going to discuss something with Shane. At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter.
I got in the car and drove back home. Not to Peter’s place, but to my old home where I had lived in for so long. The sun was already breaking through the dawn, and the sky was still in that beautiful but odd mixture of transference - there was still the darkness of night mixed in with the soft pastels of morning.
I parked the car and weaved through the string of apartments. The one we lived in had a little flower bed that lined the pool, which was directly across from our place. It was prime real estate here, and my father had been lucky to snag it for us. I sucked in a breath before forcing myself to knock on the door. I knew he’d be up. I knew he’d be getting ready for work. I didn’t want to linger. I wanted to get this over with. There was no point in dragging it on longer than it needed to.
My father answered the door half-dressed. He had on his undershirt and his slacks, but his feet were still bare. His dark eyes leveled on me, and he waited. I didn’t even see the rise and fall of stomach; it was almost like he was holding his breath.
I thrust the folder at him. “Here.”
“What’s this?” He didn’t even look at the folder, didn’t even open it up to see what was inside.
“The truth about what happened to Mary Stone,” I said, making sure to drop my voice so no one could overhear us. “Well, not the whole truth, just the truth about who killed her.”
My father clenched his teeth together so tightly, the muscle in his jaw ticked. “How do you have this?” he asked. His voice was controlled; it was clear he wanted to snap at me, wanted to demand information, but didn’t. Whether that was because we weren’t tucked inside or because he was trying to be cordial with me, I didn’t know.
“That doesn’t matter,” I said. “What matters is you arrest her.”
Her.
My father flinched at the word.
He knew Sabrina killed Mary Stone. I knew that, but to see it, to have it reaffirmed, hurt more than I thought I would.
“You know there’s nothing I can do,” he said. “The Mad Mage killed Mary Stone. I can’t change that.”
“He didn’t,” I said. Anger flared through my body. I was starting to lose my patience. “We both know he didn’t.”
“There’s nothing I can do,” he repeated. He offered me the folder back, but I stepped away from him. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be around him at all.
“You keep it,” I snarled, and then stomped away. I didn’t even look back, but he didn’t come after me, either.
That said a lot more anything else.
14
Instead of going home, I drove around for a bit. I didn’t want to see Peter. I didn’t want to see anyone. I grabbed some breakfast at a diner, then holed up in the library for a while. Belle wasn’t there; I wasn’t exactly surprised. She was probably spending as much time as she possibly could with Beast, now that he had been freed from prison. The hours dragged by. I wished Rumple would reach out. I wished he would say something. As it was, I was getting bored, the sun was setting, and I still wasn’t ready to go home.
I decided the only place I could go was Marooner’s Bay. Rumple had been acting strangely ever since we found out the truth about Sabrina Charming. I knew it had to deal with some sort of bargain he made with her in relation to Mary Stone’s death. I remembered when I was helping Rory Rose with all of this, he said he couldn’t tell me certain things or else something would happen to me because…
I sat down at the dimly-lit bar, trying not to think too much on the details. Something about me being his weakness. Whether that was true or not…
Then again, Rumple wasn’t known for lying.
There was no reason for him to lie, especially to me then.
The bartender glanced over at me, as though he noticed I was a potentially new client. The night was young, but already the club was full, and I was surprised I was able to find a seat at the bar in the first place. I was still in jeans; there was no reason for me to have to change my attire just to get out of Peter’s house. I doubted Pan was going to kick me out, though I supposed he could do anything he wanted, considering this was his club - and he did whatever he wanted anyway.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked. He had a youthful face with bags under his eyes, but it wasn’t due to exhaustion. It was difficult for me to describe, but there was something about him that seemed...tired but not.
“I’ll get a strawberry alcoholic beverage,” I said, reaching up to cup the back of my neck.
He arched a brow. “Do I need to check your ID?’ he asked drolly.
I rolled my eyes even though it was a fair question. Strawberry alcoholic beverage - really?
“Do you want to?” I asked.
“That won’t be necessary, Robbie,” a familiar voice said.
And then Pan emerged, as though he was a shadow himself. I stared at him for a long moment. Did he have the same scars as Rumple? Were his worse? Or did he still have his wings? I didn’t know much about Fae lore, but the removal of wings - especially as vicious as what happened to Rumple - was the worst sort of punishment. Besides the scarring, it was a symbol that said the Fae had fallen from favor. Considering Rumple was the heir to his own realm, it was the worst thing that could have happened to him.
“I, unfortunately, know this sad, pathetic mortal.”
My frown only increased as I took in the sight of him. There was something so cold and beautiful, it was difficult for me to look away from him. Truth be told, it was annoying. As much as I disliked Pan, I couldn’t deny that he was alluring in the worst of ways.
Not that I was interested in him.
I was extremely satisfied in my relationship with his brother. But I was curious about him. I didn’t know anything about him other than the fact that he owned this club with Russell Charming and was Rumple’s younger brother. I wanted to know more ab
out him because maybe it would somehow help me learn more about Rumple, but I was also aware that Pan was private, and I was lucky to know about him at all.
“Well?” I asked. “Can I get a drink?”
“And where is my dear brother?” he asked as he pulled out a glass and filled it halfway with ice.
“Why should I know?” I snapped.
The corner of Pan’s lips quirked. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Don’t look so gleeful,” I said, scowling. However, I took much more consideration into my words. Pan was like a worm that crawled under the skin to suss out weakness. I couldn’t let him do that to me. “He had things to do. I don’t need him around me twenty-four-seven.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” He rolled his eyes, pouring in a pink concoction from a silver mix. “You’re one of those rare independent women. You realize you and every other woman think you’re above needing a man, right? When the truth of it all is that you need men more than you might care to admit.”
“Whatever.” When he added fresh strawberries into my drink, part of me wished he would accidentally cut himself with the knife, just so he’d be reminded he bleeds just like everyone else.
“Well?” he asked, sliding my drink to me. “Are you going to tell me what has caused your presence here? I’m surprised I didn’t find you sneaking into my office and demanding paperwork.”
“What kind of paperwork?” I asked, arching a brow. I picked up the glass from the stem and eyed the pink liquid, trying to figure out if there was anything inside of it, anything that might poison me - or worse.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the magic used to inebriate me the night of my rape had been in a drink I had. I remembered drinking water, but then, I was distracted. Maybe I grabbed one of those annoying red plastic cups. I didn’t know, and that bothered me. I thought I knew myself, but with magic rushing through my veins, with everything I thought was once true, unraveling around me, I didn’t know what I thought anymore.
Pan smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. If anything, it reminded me of one of those predators baring his teeth. “Nice try, sneaky mortal,” he said.
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