Becka dug her metaphorical heels in, despite her desire to turn and run all of the way home by herself. “Even more reason for me to go home! Then I won’t be some pawn in someone else’s game.”
Compassion filled his eyes. “If you are a pawn, then you need to know who’s directing your movement. Perhaps you are cursed? But if so you need to know, not just what’s been done, but why.”
“You think someone...hexed me so I could see those marks?” she asked.
“I don’t have another likely answer, but I swear to you we will find out the truth. And no, you’re not leaving. I won’t take you and I won’t allow anyone else to remove you either. Not until we have some answers.”
Becka’s cheeks burned. “You have no right to keep me here.” She continued up the stairs into the manor.
He shrugged. “Perhaps not the right, but I do have the authority. Besides, if you returned home to the city there would be nothing more you could do there to help Tesse.”
Becka exhaled as his words hit her in the solar plexus. “That’s a low blow.”
“I am single minded in my determination, and I will do whatever is necessary to solve Tesse’s case.”
“I appreciate that, but…”
He turned to her. “Which now includes figuring out what’s going on with the magical disruptions around you before anything escalates.”
Becka stopped. “What, what do you mean?”
“I mean, before you end up like Tesse.”
Chapter 15
After Quinn’s dire warning, Becka had remained deep in thought as they returned to her room. She couldn’t deny that things kept going sideways around her, but the idea that she might be cursed was difficult to swallow.
After all, she was an outcast. Who would bother with her, fae or human alike?
Becka shuffled over to her sister’s roses, thinking about that lone lavender petal. What could it mean?
Quinn closed the door to her room behind them. “Your assistance with the investigation could be the turning point we have been looking for, Becka.” He searched the room as he’d done each time they’d entered.
“I feel like you’re strong-arming me into staying.”
Becka flopped down on a plush velvet divan near the row of topiary mini-roses. Oriani took advantage of the newfound lap space and jumped up, quickly claiming a spot to lounge on her black yoga trousers. Helpless to his wiles, Becka scratched under his chin, earning herself a loud, rumbling purr.
Nothing trapped a person faster than a napping cat. At least being trapped by the feline didn’t rankle Becka’s nerves.
“Not at all. I am, however, pointing out that you are in a unique position within this investigation. Without you we would have never known about the markings on Tesse.”
“I’d like to remind you that I’m not the detective in the room.”
Quinn sat down on the end of the divan, encroaching into her personal space. Despite Becka’s anxieties after viewing her sister’s body, his mere presence continued to comfort and calm her. Her emotions concerning Quinn were a combination of growing attraction and professional respect riddled with doubt.
“I will remind you that you agreed to help. In fact, you seemed eager yesterday, bargaining with me for information in exchange for your aid.”
Yeah, but then there was this phone call I overheard, and then I saw how my sister had been mutilated and killed… “I don’t think I can manage to be around my family. They’re yelling at me. There’s typical drama over what I’ve done wrong, over perceived slights. It’s exhausting and pointless. I won’t even see them again after I leave.”
“Solving Tesse’s murder is not pointless.”
He pulled out his phone, which he’d kept well hidden around the fae, and his notebook. Quinn snapped a series of images of her drawings, presumably to send back to his team.
“That’s not at all what I meant and you know it.” Oriani grabbed her retreating hand with his fluffy paw, dragging it back to his ear and rubbing his head against it. Becka tried to pull away, thinking to get up and move away from Quinn, but Oriani dug in his claws and fixed an accusing eye upon her. She relented, and then the cat buried his face in her hand, content for the moment.
“Then why the change of heart?”
Knowing he would read a lie off of her, Becka chose her words carefully. “I’m scared for my safety. I guess it’s really hitting home to me that whoever killed Tesse might be after others too, and those others might well include me.”
“I am glad to hear you are finally taking the risks seriously.”
Becka frowned. “And now there are these magical events connected to me. But who would put a curse on me? Or House Rowan by extension?”
He held up a cautioning hand, as if it somehow slow down her racing mind. “I agree, we need to figure out if you are cursed. Although it would be an odd curse. It is not as if you are suddenly sick, aging, or ugly. You are just...jinxed.”
Becka shrugged. “How do we find out?”
“I will ask for a tester. This is a big gathering, I bet there is one present.”
“Of course there is. Oh, lucky, lucky me!” Becka shivered with dread.
He rolled his eyes at her, and then his phone rang. “Hold on, this is work.” He answered it immediately. “Quinn here.”
The thought of a tester left Becka’s stomach in knots. She’d seen a tester no less than three times before the guild had finally deemed her ungifted. The process still made her skin crawl, but if there was a chance she had been cursed it was worth the discomfort. Perhaps nothing would hurt, or burn, or itch horridly, but she doubted she’d be that lucky.
“Yes, those are all of the drawings. No, I did not see anything, only Becka could. No, I do not know if anyone else has reported them, but I will ask around.”
He stood and started to pace, which didn’t lower Becka’s blood pressure.
“Let me know what you find out. Have there been any threats surfacing against House Rowan?” Quinn asked, frowning as he listened. “Internal?” His eyes fixed on Becka. “Can you be more specific?”
Becka squirmed on the couch, her hand tightening on Oriani’s back. The cat, who’d been dozing, awoke squeaking at the pressure, and then leapt up and away. Freed at last, Becka rose and brushed off her pants. Not that it did any good; Oriani had left a swirl of white and orange hair across her lap.
“That’s good to know. I will keep the possibility in mind. Also, we need a tester to suss out the possibility Becka’s been cursed. Can you make a formal request?” Another pause, his eyes trained on Becka. “Will do, thanks. I will update you if anything changes.”
Quinn hung up the phone, the look on his face grim. At least he’d stopped pacing, but now Becka couldn’t help but pace around the divan in circles.
“So?” Becka asked. “What did they say?”
“No one else has seen the symbols on Tesse before. Which implies only you can see them.”
“Why wouldn’t they be new?”
“It appears as though the images are part of a larger whole which was torn apart in the attack. The team at Central is going to try and piece it together using AI pattern-recognition.”
Becka picked up a pearled comb off a vanity table and ran her fingernail down the tines, eliciting a muted chime. “Okay then, so that’s a wait and see.”
“Yes, but we need to ask around and see if anyone else can see the markings. It’s a sensitive subject, but we need to know why and how they are hidden.”
She nodded. “We’ll have to find a non-offensive way to ask this group if Tesse had any tattoos. Do you have any theories why only I can see them?”
“Negative. Although I would like to find another ungifted or human to have a look, and that’s unlikely in this crowd. But then, the recordings have been played for humans and shifters at central. They would have seen them then too.”
“What did your boss have to say about threats to House Rowan?”
“There’s so
me rumors about an internal spat but there has been no formal report submitted.”
“Except for Astrid and Calder with you, earlier.”
Quinn tilted his head and shrugged. “I will get around to filing that later when I do my end of day report.”
Becka’s anxiety kicked in and she half-smiled reflexively. Was the call she’d overheard one with his boss? A coworker? “You talk to Chief Elowen every night?”
“Depends if she’s available. Otherwise, it’s whoever’s available on the team.”
How could she know for sure without giving away she’d been eavesdropping? Perhaps, knowing he had nightly calls into the office, she could listen in on future calls? Becka frowned, feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place, not to mention preemptively guilty over violating his personal space. Her stomach soured at the thought. Considering his otherwise sympathetic and protective behavior, she’d likely be proven wrong.
Likely.
“Must be nice having coworkers you can rely upon,” Becka replied. His detective team was a form of family, after all. Becka looked forward to starting her internship and connecting with her own team of like-minded professionals, who would hopefully warm to her over time. Building not only a career, but a familial kinship working toward greater cross-species understanding and tolerance. Not to mention being back with Aunt Lydia, being able to share all that had transpired during her trip back to fae territory.
But she’d never have more calls from Tesse, or be able to share them and relive them a second time with Lydia again.
She’d never felt so lonely.
“For Enforcers, it’s critical. But I worry most about the humans on the team, as they tend to not have the same level of finesse in dealing with interspecies conflicts.”
“Do they have to? I mean, humans won the war. I’m sure they don’t see a reason to give concessions.”
He shrugged. “It complicates things.”
“Are the Enforcers always cross-species teams?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s dictated by the Pax-Hominid treaty. We have fae, human, and shifter on every Enforcer team to ensure fair and equitable treatment within our cross-species investigations and disputes.” He held up a hand, motioning for her to stop. “As much as I enjoy chatting, we need to get going.”
“Wait, what? Where to?”
“To the viewing of Tesse’s creations. It is the event Duchess Maura invited you to and there will be an opportunity to engage in conversation. Perhaps we will find answers to the questions we are both seeking.”
“We?”
Quinn stepped close, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a single, gentle shake. “You are my partner in this, right?”
Becka’s cheeks warmed at his touch. How could she continue to feel both anxious of and attracted to this man? “I’m on board to help find Tesse’s killer, but I still want to leave as soon as possible.”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t bring up their argument over her leaving. “I will keep you safe in the meantime.”
In this moment, she believed his claim. Becka wished she could shake off her doubts, but her good sense wouldn’t let go.
“Elowen is ordering the testing,” he continued. “Hopefully that can be managed swiftly.”
Becka shuddered. “I despise the testers, but yeah, I’d rather know one way or the other about the curse. Once that’s managed, I’m out of here.”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Well then, there’s no time to waste. Let’s see what we can find out before the day is over.”
Chapter 16
Becka had never dreamed she’d walk down The Hall of Memories again. Despite her frustrations with the fae, Becka held no accompanying disdain for their marvelous antiquities. Every feat, accomplishment, and hardship had been memorialized here. House Rowan even had items dating back to the foundation of their bloodline, such was the caliber of their collection.
As a child she’d been taught the tale of the ancient fae, Bergljot, who, amongst her other powers, could bend or extinguish light by her will alone. It was thought she could spin webs of enchanting visions so powerful, mortals could stumble into them and never be heard from again.
Rowan’s ancestors had revered her, instead of fearing her as others did, and left her gifts and tributes to gain her favor. As the great immortal spent more time around her favorite humans, she became enamored with Waldemar, a strapping warrior known for his cunning and wit, and who was rumored to have never lost a contest of might.
They had a passionate affair, and then she disappeared, and Waldemar, knowing the ephemeral nature of the fae, had wondered if his lover and benefactor of his tribe, would ever return.
When Bergljot resurfaced a year later, it was to introduce Waldemar to their daughter and entrust the fae-touched child to his rearing. Born under a Rowan moon, her children and children's children, who favored their mother, Bergljot, were thereafter known as House Rowan.
She had no idea how much was true, other than Bergljot being the progenitor of their fae-touched heritage. But it made for a colorful origin story.
Becka paused at the archway to the exhibition, spying Maura standing on her own gazing at a sculpture of a living rock covered in bouquets of summer flowers. It was a simple white rock roughly the size of a bowling ball. The greenery coated the top with veins of moss and lichen wrapping down around the bottom.
“I am going to give you some space, but never fear I will be close by,” Quinn whispered before moving into the hall.
Becka gave him a quick nod. A professional lurker, that one. So why did her anxiety rise as he walked out of sight? Was it the result of her attraction to him or the possibility of a killer waiting in the wings? Both?
Reminding herself that she’d evolved into an independent outspoken fae woman, Becka meandered down the main row towards Maura, mindful of her directive to see what she could learn from the family.
Maura glanced over to her, noting her presence, and then back to the sculpture.
Becka came to stand by her, taking in the beauty of the antiquity before them. “Good afternoon, Maura.”
“It does appear as such. I hope you are benefiting from this opportunity to grieve your sister amongst other fae.”
It was a curiously kind yet neutral statement, but Becka would take it. “I have appreciated the opportunity for closure and healing. I’m also grateful for your hospitality.”
“It is freely given. I have heard there have been some ill words between you, Astrid, and Calder. Do I have cause for concern?”
“We’ve shared some less than ideal interactions,” Becka replied. “And those were not my fault.”
Maura raised a brow.
“Astrid accused me of somehow obstructing her magic. Imagine, me, an ungifted, breaking anything! Quinn is looking into it.”
“I look forward to hearing his conclusions,” Maura replied. “On another note, I have heard you have been displaying an open disdain for House Rowan.”
Becka shrugged and scratched the back of her neck. “This trip has opened old wounds for me. I’ve been trying to rise to the occasion, but some of you are not making it easy for me.”
Maura let out a rough laugh. “I can imagine.” She looked Becka up and down. “I like your direct demeanor. It’s not very fae in nature, but it certainly is refreshing.”
Becka gave a quick nod. “It’s all of the education. Human universities aren’t known for being pro-fae, but they do teach you debate.” She cast her gaze around the room, finding Quinn on the next row over, watching them.
Maura’s regard slipped back to the sculpture; her attention rapt as a miniature bonsai’s leaves changed from verdant green to shades of amber.
“Do you remember the history of this piece?”
“No, I don’t recall.”
“Back before the great war, there was a wedding between Eira of House Rowan and Olin of House Oak. It’s said their love quaked the walls of the guildhall, a portent of their powerful union, the
day they met.”
“But their marriage was arranged. It’s not like they fell in love at first sight.”
“And yet so goes their story. When Eira bore him the first of many children, Olin presented her this as evidence of his enduring regard. It’s said Olin was a powerful earth elemental, using his abilities to expand our territory against the encroaching cities.”
“That was hundreds of years ago. His affection endures.”
“It is said magic is a thing that once begun, lives on its own command,” Maura replied. She sighed, the emotion heavy in her words. “The colors of the bonsai leaves remind me of Tesse’s viewing.”
“I was there earlier. The decorations and funerary presentation were an honor to her spirit.”
Maura inclined her head. As the head of the House of Mirrors and House Rowan, this acknowledgment was as close to a thank you as one could hope for.
“I am heartened to hear you made time to visit her. I recognize being here is not easy for you, but I hope it will ease your loss.”
The distance between them seemed vast and yet this display of empathy touched her. Perhaps because she’d never gotten to know her mother? The opportunity to bond with Maura would never happen, and Becka was surprised at the regret surfacing over that revelation.
“Time will tell,” she replied. “I was surprised to see the tattoos.”
Maura frowned. “Tattoos?”
“I thought I saw some...but perhaps it was my imagination? Grief can play tricks with the mind.”
“Tesse had no tattoos. I would know. Perhaps it was a play of the light through the folds of the draping. Shadows can bring to the surface all sorts of fantastical thoughts, especially when one is lost in the past.”
“True enough,” Becka replied. She believed Maura’s reaction was sincere. What did the markings mean, and why couldn’t others see them?
A group of visitors to House Rowan strolled in, and Maura’s composure shifted. Hardened. “It’s been good to chat, Becka. Please excuse me.”
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