He’d watched her that much? She’d been too fixated on the scenery to notice. “We’re not quite to the house.”
“We just now entered House Rowan territory, however.”
“You always make up the rules?” She arched a brow at him, returning his playful attitude.
“As often as possible, yes.”
“I’m not even gonna ask. Oh!”
They’d rounded a bend and the manor had come into sudden and imposing view. Nostalgia rolled over her like a wave, memories of her sister and family assaulting her senses. Becka’s emotions were piqued and she had to work to hold back tears.
The last time she’d seen the home of her birth had been the night she was outcast. It had been an event without fanfare. Without crowds. A death in its own right. There’d been tears and farewells with Tesse and her older siblings before she was shipped away to the city, never to return.
Or so she’d thought.
The House of Mirrors, also known as the House Rowan, was aptly named for their illusionist abilities. Today, the manor house was draped in a shroud of cascading shadows so that no visible light fell on the surface of the structure, from its masonry foundation to the peaks of its soaring parapets.
In stark contrast, an effigy of Tesse stood double life-size next to the fountain area in front of the residence. The illusionists had recreated Tesse with a perfectionist’s eye to detail. Clad in what Becka could only assume was her engagement gown based on the description Tesse had confided in her weeks ago, the resplendent garment was covered in mirrors, glinting shades of amber in the light of the setting sun. Jets of water streamed around her form, a play of liquid light intensifying and magnifying the mirrored gown.
Examining features identical to her own on a funerary display induced a cold shiver of foreboding down Becka’s spine.
“If I’d been gifted, I would have been here,” she said softly, a sudden pain in her chest radiating outwards. “I keep wondering how Tesse died. Maybe things would have been different if I’d been here?”
“You can never know what might have been. And your powers, or lack of them, were not within your control.” Quinn drove the car past the front, heading towards the rear of the house.
“You’re not supposed to draw attention to my arrival?” Becka asked.
“Actually, I had assumed you would want to avoid the pomp of a formal welcoming. If you would prefer, I can take you--”
“No! On second thought, this is much better.” The last thing she needed was to risk breaking down in front of a crowd. “I’m only here to satisfy tradition, and then I’ll be sent back to the city. The less contact I have with everyone, the better.”
At least that’s what she’d keep telling herself. Her heart already ached at the bittersweet homecoming and she hadn’t even talked with her family yet.
When they rounded the turn to the back of the house, there was a small crowd present who, all at once, turned to observe their approaching car. It was the largest group of fae she’d seen since leaving the Territories, and for a moment Becka marveled at the sight. Had the fae been expecting her arrival? But no, surely no one cared about the outcast Becka.
“I bet Vott and Maura asked them to stay on for Tesse’s funeral,” she muttered.
Quinn cast her a sideways look. “No doubt. I heard all twelve houses are represented.”
As most things fae, the higher ones status, the more fae gathered to observe and gossip.
He pulled into a spacious garage, which existed just to hide human-style vehicles from sight. The fae-touched preferred to distance themselves from all things human, despite, or perhaps because of, their shared ancestry.
In Becka’s research, she’d endeavored to discover how far back the behavior tracked. Much of their origin story had been lost, living on through myth and folklore alone. It was widely regarded as truth that the fae-touched had been the result of ancient fae ‘bestowing their lineage’ upon select, devout villages before they’d departed human lands for all time, never to be heard from again. There had been a period of prosperity that followed, with the children of the fae intermingling with humans, despite their differences in appearance and the varied talents imparted to them by their progenitors.
As generations passed, and the venerated fae legends had faded into memory, their fae-touched children became ever more foreign and otherworldly to their human neighbors. The humans viewed themselves as the purer race, while the fae-touched regarded themselves as being a gift from the ancients. The eventual separation of fae-touched and humankind came then as a series of steps further and further apart, with ongoing skirmishes over territory. The most recent of these had become known as the Great War.
Keeping human things apart from fae territories had, therefore, become a matter of fae policy and human law.
Becka sighed and then exited the car, shaking off her reminiscing as she fetched her suitcase and backpack. Quinn caught up, matching her stride this time as they crossed to the back entrance.
“Would you like help with your bags?”
Becka rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks, but I can manage my things just fine.”
“Suit yourself.”
Becka headed straight for the manor’s back door. Her appearance hushed the fae as she passed. Conversations stalled out. Ambles were brought to a halt. Stares were rife.
“Just keep walking,” Quinn whispered.
Becka didn’t need his encouragement. She strode towards the open arch of the rear entrance while ignoring the shocked and scandalized looks of those she passed. She’d expected her arrival would cause a strong reaction. Why hadn’t they delayed a little and arrived after dark?
And why was Quinn walking so close to her or staring down every fae in their path until they moved aside? His movements were fluid yet poised, seeming every inch the proud House of Staves warrior. Becka enjoyed the protective attention of her attractive escort, but his behavior was so much over the top that a twinge of embarrassment was building.
Just then, her father, Elder Vott of House Alder and Duke of House Rowan, appeared at the entrance glowering at their approach. His eyes were a paler sheen than normal, which Becka attributed to his heartache over Tesse’s death. He wore gray, colorless robes as was the tradition, and yet their tailored perfection was anything but plain. His sudden arrival sent a hushed awe through the crowd of onlookers, followed by a smattering of whispers.
As they approached the rear entrance, the funerary shroud covering the manor appeared to shudder, part, and then open, almost as if it were a door. Becka’s headache intensified as she and Quinn crossed the threshold, Vott wordlessly motioning for them to follow him across the foyer. The series of doors into the opulent banquet hall stood open on their right, revealing even more gathered for her sister’s funeral within the Great Hall.
A lithe woman dressed in brown leather pants and a tank top fell in behind them, standing out not just because she wasn’t dressed in formal funerary gray, but by the predatory glint in her eye and her graceful, lanky stride. Recognition dawned on Becka; Vott still had his wolf shifter guards, because this was definitely one of them.
After years of only occasional encounters with fae in the human-dominated city, all eyes besides the shifters surrounding her held the golden tones of the fae-touched. A weight settled across her shoulders like a mantle. Becka drew herself up, squaring her shoulders as a shield against their judicious gazes.
“Thank the winds I noticed your early arrival,” Vott whispered, touching her briefly on the elbow to indicate their direction at the top of the stairs. He ushered them up a set of spiral stairs and into a spacious study located on the eastern corner of the second floor, closing the door behind them.
It’d been so long since she’d been in his private study, Becka had forgotten the unique sense of calm presence within his meditative space. Her father had married into House Rowan but by birth he was House Alder. The Alder had an affinity for air elementals, and it was said the Guild of Whi
spers could hear prophetic messages upon the wind, from certain birds, even in the rustling of leaves while walking through the forests.
His office hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d stepped foot inside. Multiple chimes, made of metal, wood, shell, and feather, framed the corner windows which he’d seldom closed, allowing in a constant melodious breeze. The chimes quieted down after the door shut, strangely stiller than she remembered them. The flooring had been replaced with fine-grain black sand that crunched ever so slightly under their footsteps. There was no desk, but the walls were lined with bookshelves and there was a quad of plush, faded-green lounges edging the room.
They weren’t invited to sit. The wolf shifter circled the room, appearing to ignore them all. Becka dropped her backpack to the floor next to her bags.
Vott templed his fingers as he stood before them, his grief plain in his pallor and a dragging weight upon his features. “I am deeply dismayed at your appearance and the utter lack of decorum you just displayed.”
Becka gaped, flummoxed at his statement. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
“No, not you, Becka.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Quinn. “I am referring to Enforcer Quinn, whose,” he inhaled sharply as if smelling something rotten in the air, “questionable reputation demands no further introduction.”
Becka stared at Quinn in shock. The Enforcer’s Guild had come into existence shortly after the Great War, in an effort to ‘improve’ human/fae relations and prevent future escalations in conflict. The fae never fully trusted the select few who worked, day in and day out, with humans, investigating their own. And yet, many fae thought of Enforcers as snitches and pawns to the humans.
The fae Enforcers argued that without their presence on the task force that there would be no fair treatment of fae-touched under human laws, and feared humans would accuse and convict the fae without adequate evidence.
Becka’s occasional interactions with Enforcers had mostly been boring and procedural. Periodic checks of her ID on campus, yearly door-to-door census counts, passing in the streets…once they recognized her as an outcast they lost all interest. Becka frowned. The only exception was when she’d run into the Enforcer in the library, and they’d managed to thwart Becka’s scheduled time with the historic records.
Quinn crossed his arms in defiance. The right corner of his mouth raised a fraction, and he rolled his eyes at Vott.
“Your refusal to accept the authority of the Enforcers Guild is noted,” Quinn said to Vott.
Anger clenched her gut. Quinn had played her, and to her chagrin, she’d fallen for his charms. “Enforcer?” Becka asked. Quinn’s expression was guarded to the point of being resigned, and he met her gaze somewhat sheepishly. Surely her ire was no surprise? Now that she’d come under the scrutiny of another Enforcer, Becka wondered if this one would vex her plans too?
She turned to Vott. “I’d assumed Quinn was the escort you sent.”
Her father drew himself up to his full height, nearing an imperious seven feet, a distasteful expression on his face. “I had a shifter en route to transport you here with instructions to arrive after nightfall, so as not to cause a stir to the funerary proceedings. Quinn superseded my plans.”
Becka turned to Quinn. “You told me Vott sent you!”
“You were expecting an escort,” he shrugged, his expression suitably non-contrite for a trickster. “And I was assigned to escort you here. I never claimed to be the one your father sent.”
She’d heard rumors the Enforcers played fast and loose with the truth to accomplish their goals. She’d never spent enough time around one to see for herself before now.
“So this easy transport assignment of yours was from the Enforcer’s Guild?”
Quinn sighed and nodded. He looked so humbled, she almost believed he felt bad about deceiving her.
Vott harrumphed, and the shifter chuckled. “Well, now that you have delivered Becka,” Vott said, “I must ask you to move along to your next assignment. We have family matters to arrange which are none of your concern, and the sooner you are gone, the better.”
Quinn’s brow furrowed, and his demeanor lost all traces of levity. “As much as I respect the House of Whispers and your venerated position as an Elder within it, I am afraid I cannot concede to your wishes.”
Vott glowered, his hands shaking in frustration. Becka couldn’t remember a time she’d seen him so angry. The fae-touched prided themselves on their composure. Vott’s lack of self-control at this moment spoke volumes on the depth of his grieving, pulling at Becka’s heartstrings.
As she felt this renewed connection to her father through his display of grief, a bittersweet truth hit home. He hadn’t shown this level of distress when she’d been outcast, yet she remembered his bleak disappointment all too well. The triggered memory served to further distance her from Vott, her own bitter memories reinforcing the wall of distance between them.
Sensing Vott’s coming outburst, Becka cut in. “I’m afraid we must insist. My twin’s funeral isn’t an Enforcer matter.”
“I agree, the funeral is not. However, the investigation around Tesse’s untimely death very much falls within Enforcer jurisdiction.”
Vott took a step forward, and despite his willowy stature he loomed over Quinn. “Your guild has already been here and left. The inquiry has been handled by your superiors.”
“I do not seek an argument with you, Duke Vott. Based on the findings surrounding Tesse’s death, I was assigned by Chief Elowen to escort Becka home and then shadow her throughout her stay.” Quinn’s eyes met hers, watching for her reaction.
The burn in her gut turned to an icy, heavy pit. “Shadow me?” Becka replied, the tension in her head intensifying. “But wait, why?”
“The Enforcers are simply considering all of the possibilities. You are Tesse’s twin. We do not yet comprehend the full circumstances around her death. The rest of the guild might also be in danger. But you are in a uniquely vulnerable position and potentially also a target.”
Chapter 6
The absurdity of his statement bubbled up out of her in a peal of nervous laughter. Quinn and Vott both frowned at her.
Becka held up her hands and tried to contain her anxiety. “Sorry guys, the irony of me playing any sort of role within the fae universe comes as a bit of a shock on top of the news of my sister’s death this morning.”
The men shared a look and seemed to come to an unspoken decision. No doubt Becka’s all too humanized reactions and lack of proper fae comportment had given them pause.
“It’s just for a couple of days, Becka,” Quinn replied, but his words failed to reassure her. “And I would remind you the Enforcers act in concert with human police forces. You may no longer be guilded, but your protection lies within the purview of our joint investigation.”
Becka fumed, feeling powerless. Sure, she’d chosen to return, but the cascade of associated consequences was spiraling well out of her control. The prospect of being stuck with Quinn until...when? Just for this trip, or until the Enforcers finished their investigation?
“I have an internship to start. I can’t miss the beginning of the semester next week,” she replied.
Quinn’s confident smile nonetheless reassured her. “I’ll get you back home in time.”
Becka nodded. He was right, it would be close, but workable. “You haven’t even told me how Tesse died,” she said to Vott, “and now I’ve got an Enforcer as a shadow until it’s solved?”
Quinn began to respond, but Vott waved him off. “Yes, you deserve to know.” He hesitated for a moment, grief contorting his features before he regained his composure. “She was walking on her own out in the rose gardens late at night and was mauled to death.”
Becka covered her mouth with her hand, feeling the wind knocked out of her. “Mauled?” she whispered, the horror of the imagery conjuring up visions of a bloody, gory struggle. She didn’t want to know more, lest the details were any worse than her already g
raphic imaginings.
“We have told everyone besides immediate family that a wild animal attacked her, which is such a rare occurrence within our territory that people have found it difficult to believe. After all, our Illusionists have kept predators well in hand as long as we’ve lived on these lands. Yet, a palatable reason had to be offered, outlandish as it may be. The truth is far more sinister. Tesse, or the House of Mirrors, has an enemy with an unknown face.”
“But why Tesse? And where were her guards?”
“We had believed the area was secure,” Vott replied. “She had asked her guards to leave her alone while she roamed the gardens, most likely to escape the noise and bustle of her engagement party. Alain, her betrothed, spoke with her moments before the attack. When her guards and Alain heard her cries they rushed to her aid, but arrived too late.”
“But what you’ve described couldn’t have been more than a few minutes in time. Were there no healers available?” Becka asked.
“There were. Of the pair of guards who reached her first, Kory, House Birch, is a proficient and talented healer. However, he was powerless to bring Tesse back from the darkness.”
Dumbfounded, she started to pace, the act all the more visceral and difficult due to the sand beneath her shoes. “This makes no sense. How can a healer be unable to heal?”
Vott shrugged. “We have had our share of accidents, poisonings, quarrels, and injuries from duels at the House of Mirrors, even an occasional death, but never an attack such as this. Our magics have yielded little aid or insight. I am afraid we were ill-equipped.”
Anger and loss churned together into an aching pit in her gut. Becka cast her eyes around the room, focusing in on the stillness of the chimes. “You had no forewarning of the attack?” He nodded. “But you get messages when meals are running late. And I remember not being able to eat blueberries for a month when I was little so I wouldn’t get hurt. Of course, I sneaked one anyway and knocked myself out running into a door with my prize. But still, you knew. Why nothing this time?”
Twinned Shadow (The Shadow Series Book 1) Page 4