Spellbound After Midnight (Ever Dark, Ever Deadly Book 1)

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Spellbound After Midnight (Ever Dark, Ever Deadly Book 1) Page 14

by Jenna Collett


  “Trevor, the baker’s son. He’s enamored with me and constantly compliments my stunning beauty and clever intellect.”

  Silence met my answer. Derrick stilled except for a noticeable tic in his jaw. I grew bold, spurred on by the dark look in his eyes, and inched closer until the hem of my skirt covered his boots. The air seemed to thicken in the narrow hall.

  My voice dipped. “There’s also the blacksmith’s apprentice. I’m very fond of him.”

  “What’s his name?” Derrick growled. The rumble sent a shiver through my body. He was so close, I felt the vibration in his chest.

  “Are you jealous, Detective? Does the thought of another man pursuing me drive you mad?

  “Don’t play games, Tessa. You know what will happen if you lie to me again.”

  Anger sparked through me. “Is that right? A man wanting me is a lie?”

  His lips parted. The hunger emanating from his stare forced me to question the sanity of provoking him. It also encouraged me to go further and find out what lay on the other side of that look.

  “No.” His answer, when it came, made my stomach flip. “It wouldn’t be a lie. It’s more possible than you realize.” His hands circled my waist, bringing me flush against him.

  My heart pounded, and liquid heat flowed through my body. There wasn’t anything gentle about the way Derrick gripped my hips. It was like he was staking a claim against my fictional suitors. This wasn’t a game—at least, not one I had any shot at winning—but with his mouth hovering near my ear, he made me want to play.

  “I better not see either of them around given our current situation.”

  “It’s a blip in the papers.” My mouth felt dry as sand. I wet my lips. “Tomorrow, it will be forgotten.”

  “You think the public has such a short memory? I certainly don’t. It’ll take a hell of a lot more than the next day’s news to make me forget this.”

  “We’ll have them print a retraction.”

  “Not a chance. Besides, it’s too late for that.” Derrick pushed open the door, releasing me at the same time Prince Marcus rose from his chair.

  “Tessa, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Please, come in. We need to talk.”

  “Your Highness,” I stammered. His presence was a bucket of ice water dousing the simmering heat from the hallway. Liam’s warning echoed in my mind. How was I supposed to tell Derrick what I’d learned with Prince Marcus in attendance? It would have to wait.

  “Have a seat, Tessa.” Derrick rounded his desk and waited for us both to be seated before he took his own. There was a whipcord tension in the set of his shoulders. Either he was still affected by our hallway encounter, or he knew what was coming before I did.

  Prince Marcus faced me. “It seems we have a situation on our hands, but I think it’s perfect.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s the kind of distraction we need. It will take the kingdom’s mind off the murder. A relationship between you two will drown out the speculation and keep details of the case off the front page.”

  I questioned the prince’s motives, curious to see if he welcomed the distraction too. This was royal propaganda at its finest. Love and murder went hand-in-hand, and if there was anything more salacious than a crime, it was a scandalous romance between a royal detective and a low-born witch.

  “Is this what you want?” I held my breath after asking the question, a secret part of me wanting Derrick to say yes and mean it.

  “It’s what’s best for the case.” His hands clenched around the edge of the desk. He was following orders. Whatever he wanted wasn’t up for discussion, and it was clear he disapproved. Could I blame him? This went way beyond a simple partnership. Things could get messy.

  They already were.

  “Well, whatever’s best for the case then.”

  Prince Marcus cleared his throat. “Don’t worry, Tessa, it’s a temporary arrangement. I understand how this could make your life difficult. You’ll be compensated accordingly.”

  Money. They were going to pay me to be Derrick’s love interest? It was too ironic. I should have been thrilled, but the transaction felt dirty. I refused to meet Derrick’s stare, even though I felt it like a weight around my neck.

  “I could use the money.”

  “Great. It’s settled.”

  Was it settled? It didn’t feel that way. I shifted in my seat, hating this moment.

  The prince continued. “We’ll test the waters tomorrow evening. The Lockwoods are planning a small memorial dinner to honor Ella, and my father has offered to host. There will be a wreath-laying at the fountain. A few select guests have been invited along with the owner of the Gazette. You’ll be expected to speak with him.”

  A sour taste flooded my mouth, made more bitter by the prince’s charming smile. He wore it like a mask, and I longed to delve beneath it to the truth below the surface. The only benefit of tomorrow’s ordeal would be the opportunity to observe his demeanor. Derrick and I just had to pretend to be lovers first.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have some preparations to make.” I rose, giving Prince Marcus a slight curtsy, still unable to meet Derrick’s eyes for fear there might be pity in them.

  “We’ll send a carriage tomorrow at seven.”

  “Sounds wonderful.” I slipped from the room and leaned against the closed door, shutting my eyes at the sting of tears.

  What a silly reaction to the ruse we were about to play. I pressed my thumb and index finger into the corner of my eyes and took a shuddering breath. This dinner was for Ella, and I planned on playing my part to perfection. I owed her that much.

  If the prince wanted a show, he’d get one.

  ***

  “This is a bad idea.” Vivian paced my bedroom floor, winding a long strand of hair around her finger. “When’s the carriage supposed to arrive?”

  “Thirty minutes.” I picked through my closet, frustrated by my lack of ball gowns. A long black satin frock caught my attention. I held it up against my body.

  Vivian pulled a face. “No. That one makes you look drab.”

  With a groan, I returned the dress and stepped away from the closet. Vivian resumed her pacing.

  “I can’t believe they’re paying you to pretend to be Derrick’s love interest. When I saw the paper, I thought maybe it was true. I was happy for you. Now, I want to clock him in the face.” She spun on her heel. “You don’t have to do this. It’s one thing to offer your help with the case, but this is different. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “He can’t hurt me,” I muttered, rifling through a trunk near the bed. “He’d have to care about me enough to actually do that. Besides, the act makes sense, and it gets me invited to the memorial dinner.” I slammed the trunk closed and sat heavily on the lid. “There’s something off about Helen, and the prince is suspicious. The whole royal family could be involved, or maybe it was one of the servants. Not to mention, a friend of Ella’s. The list is endless, but most of that list will be there tonight.”

  “And the other victims? How do they fit in?”

  “I have no idea, but you can’t mention them. You’re not supposed to know.”

  “Technically, neither are you. Things happen, and we don’t keep secrets from each other. Especially not a killer-roaming-the-kingdom kind of secret.” She shuddered. “What about your lead on Ironhazel? That seems like a more promising avenue than a fancy dinner.”

  “One of tonight’s guests could have paid Ironhazel to poison Ella.”

  Vivian tapped her foot anxiously against the floor. “I’ve made a decision. I don’t think you should go. You’re getting too involved with the case, and it’s dangerous. We’ll find another way to pay off Argus and help Ella. You’re my best friend. I can’t in good conscience let you hunt killers anymore.”

  “Now you sound like Derrick.”

  “Then he cares enough about you to be worried.”

  I crossed the room and gripped her hands. “I’ll be fine, Viv. This is m
y shot to get a close look at the suspects. Besides, you’re the one telling me I should get out more.”

  “Yeah, I meant, like, join the Ladies Tea Society or take riding lessons, not solve a murder.”

  I scoffed. “You know I’m scared of horses, and I hardly think the Ladies Tea Society would accept a witch.”

  “You know what I mean, and the Tea Society is a bunch of bores who think fashion is a conversation starter. You’re better off without them.”

  “Maybe so, but none of that helps me with my current situation.” I snarled and tossed up my hands. “It’s official, I have nothing to wear. I’m going to have to use a spell.”

  “You are?” Vivian cringed. “You know, the satin gown didn’t make you look that drab.”

  “It did. I saw the look on your face.” I rubbed my hands together, bringing the first sparks of magic to life.

  “Hold on, what if you accidentally turn us into mice? I can’t live on cheese alone.”

  That made me pause. “I probably won’t.”

  “Comforting. Let me step behind the changing screen before you go full-spell.” She scurried for cover. Her faith in me had reached a new low.

  Closing my eyes, I took a cleansing breath. How hard could it be? I’d transformed Ella’s gown, and while that scenario hadn’t worked out exactly in her favor, she had looked good. Behind my eyelids, I imagined an emerald gown with an empire waist, lace gloves that skimmed past my elbows, and a crown of crystal flowers woven through my auburn curls.

  I popped one eye open. Nothing yet. What was I doing wrong? I refocused, channeling all of my mental energy. Sensation flowed through my body, starting in my fingers and rushing to my feet. Light shot from my palms.

  Vivian screeched and poked her head from behind the screen. “You did it, and nothing is broken!”

  “Don’t seem so shocked.” I gazed into the mirror and smoothed the silken fabric at my waist. The dress molded perfectly to my frame.

  “Derrick’s eyes are going to pop out of his head when he sees you,” Vivian said, walking over to me.

  “Let’s hope so. It will make our act easier.”

  Her lips thinned. “You two are playing a risky game. The lines might blur.”

  The lines had already blurred, starting with the kiss in my shop and fading into oblivion after our trip through the market.

  A knock interrupted our conversation.

  Vivian squeezed my shoulders. “Looks like Prince Charming has arrived.”

  I swatted her hands away. “Don’t call him that.”

  “Why? He can’t hear us.” She gave me a nudge and winked. “Good luck. I want details. All the details.”

  Wiping my slick palms on my gown, I descended the staircase, pausing to do a final dress check before opening the door. Derrick stood in the cool night air, dressed completely in black. His formal jacket was perfectly tailored across his broad shoulders, giving him a dark, roguish appearance. My heart pounded as his gaze traveled agonizingly slow from the top of my head to the tips of my satin heels.

  His jaw tightened. “You look…”

  At his pause, I filled in the silence. “I believe the word you’re looking for is fine. If I remember correctly, you said I always look fine.”

  He stepped over the threshold, lifting a hand to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. As he did so, his finger traced the outer shell of my earlobe.

  “Then I’m a fool. You’re beautiful.”

  A smile spread across my lips. “I’ll remember you said that, Detective.”

  “This is a bad idea.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  “The worst,” I whispered.

  Vivian appeared out of nowhere, rushing forward with my coat. She draped it over my shoulders, then pushed me. Hard. I stumbled into Derrick, forcing him to steady me as I shot her a furious glare.

  “Have fun, kids. Bring me back a killer.” She hustled us onto the porch, mouthing, “Be careful,” before slamming the door in our faces.

  “Who was that?” Derrick asked.

  “That was Vivian. She doesn’t get out much.”

  “Ah, the medium.” He held out his arm, and I placed my gloved fingers over his sleeve so he could guide me down the steps to a waiting carriage. “Are you ready?” he asked after climbing in behind.

  I met his searching gaze through the dimly lit interior. “I think so.”

  Derrick knocked on the roof of the carriage, and we jolted forward. The wheels clacked over the ground, hitting every bump in the roadway. I sat rigid, trying not to sway into the wall. Minutes passed as we traveled in silence.

  “About our plan tonight,” Derrick said, breaking the quiet.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll hold up my end.”

  His voice rumbled in the enclosed space. “We don’t have to do this.”

  “It’s what’s best for the case. You said so yourself.”

  He leaned closer, resting his arms on his knees. “Maybe I want what’s best for you.”

  What was best for me? I hardly knew what that was anymore.

  “I need the money,” I said, turning my head to look out the window.

  “Forget the money for a second—”

  “I don’t have that luxury. I don’t live your life. We need to find Ella’s killer so you can get back to yours, and I can get back to mine.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  I let his question go unanswered, stifling my emotions, then redirected the conversation. “The prince wants us to play this part, and I will. But before we do this, I need to tell you that I saw the man from the crime scene yesterday. The one hiding behind the hedge.”

  Derrick tensed. “What happened?”

  I told him about Liam switching masks with the prince and ruining the young royal’s alibi. “We can’t trust Prince Marcus. It’s time to consider he might be involved.”

  Chapter 17

  “This is what they call a small party?” My gaze roamed over the ballroom.

  It seemed half the kingdom had been invited. Helen and Olivia Lockwood were at the head of the receiving line, dressed in black satin and smiling softly at the guests’ condolences as they shuffled through.

  Derrick offered his arm for us to descend the wide marble staircase. “It’s a distraction. A gathering like this so soon after the murder shows the rest of the kingdom there’s nothing to fear, and it’s an honor to be welcomed by the royal family.”

  “If you ask me, it’s insulting and in poor taste. Ella’s dead, and they throw a party? If someone you cared about had been killed, would you be able to stomach this affair?”

  The muscles in Derrick’s forearm clenched, and he paused on the steps. “If someone I cared about was murdered, I wouldn’t stop until I found their killer.”

  “That’s your job, Detective.”

  “Yes, it’s my job. I’ve made it so.” Something lurked in his tone, a painful note that hinted of past hurt. Had he lost someone he loved? It was ridiculous that I envied whatever memory formed his hardened expression.

  “Maybe there’s more to you than I thought,” I said, as we reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the receiving line. His arm wrapped around my middle, pulling me against his chest. Our act had already begun. To our left, a trio of guests whispered behind their fans, watching us with gossiping intent.

  “What do you mean?” he murmured close to my ear.

  “Well, on the outside, you’re nothing but rules. Straitlaced, methodical, impassive.”

  “Coldhearted, if I remember correctly.”

  “I did say that.” Twisting in his hold, I pressed my hand over his heart to feel a rapid rhythm that matched my own. “Here, though, you’re a bit lawless. Maybe even ruthless.”

  The line moved, and he nudged me forward, his head dipping as he whispered, “I can be ruthless when someone threatens something important to me.”

  “Like one of your cases?”

  “Among other things.”

  “What other thin
gs? What’s important to you besides justice? Someone you’re close to? A girlfriend, perhaps?” He didn’t answer and instead turned me to face the front of the line.

  Frustration clenched my fists. I’d answered his personal questions that day in the carriage, yet he refused to do the same.

  “I’ll find out, you know? I’m pretty good at playing detective.”

  He emitted a wry sound. “I believe you. You knock down every wall someone puts in your path.”

  “I can be ruthless too, Detective.”

  “Maybe, but you’re not as fearless as you want people to believe.” He brushed the hair off my shoulder, and I shivered as his fingers skimmed across my bare skin.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. And to answer your question, no. There’s no one else.”

  We reached the front of the line. Olivia Lockwood bent her head and offered us a weak smile.

  “Detective Chambers, Miss Daniels, thank you for coming.” Her eyes narrowed, and her tone soured. “I saw the papers. I’m happy for both of you.”

  Derrick took her hand in a comforting gesture. “Whatever you’ve read, Ella’s case has our full attention.”

  “But not the Gazette’s. We’re old news.” Her lips flattened into a grim line. “Even this gathering isn’t really about Ella, is it? It buys our silence, gives closure where there is none, so everyone can return to their lives confident they’ve paid their respects, while the case grows cold.”

  “Hush, Mother,” Helen hissed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t the place.”

  “No, it’s not the place, is it? A scene won’t help our cause, only finding the killer or maybe another murder.”

  “Mother!” Helen’s face burned red, and she looked around to make sure no one else paid them any attention.

  “Is it true, Detective? Were there others? Is my step-daughter dead because you couldn’t do your job?”

  Regret flashed across Derrick’s features. “We’re investigating every angle, Mrs. Lockwood.”

  “It’s not enough, Detective.” Olivia turned on her heel and plunged through the crowd. Onlookers gaped and whispered in her wake.

 

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