by Tegan Maher
Well, that clarified one common belief I'd always questioned.
"Anyway," Margo continued, "I felt so badly for her that I just had to comfort her. We chatted for hours about her options, and I was pleased that she left feeling confident rather than defeated."
"So that's what convinced you she didn't kill Dain?" Colin asked.
More sand fell on us as Margo nodded. "That and I think I know who did. As I said, I'm stationed here because I can see into the hearts of man. The next night—the night before the murder—she passed with the young man, Dain. They were happy and laughing, though his heart held a little longing along with the happiness. I found that odd, since he seemed to be exactly where he wanted to be, and was obviously happy with his company."
"She came out later that night and talked to me. Apparently, they had a nice dinner and really hit it off, if you know what I mean. She commented that the suites princes could afford were much more luxurious than the regular hotel rooms."
"So that's it?" I asked. "Not to up dump your apple cart, but the very next morning, the guys were at the tiki, and Dain's brothers were teasing him about finally finding a girl he may be interested in settling down with, and he said he doubted that would happen, considering she didn't have a heartbeat. What if he told her that, and she lost it and killed him?"
"Destiny! I'm surprised and disappointed. He was killed with his own knife. An act of passion such as you're suggesting wouldn't have included that type of forethought, and I can promise you that when she came out that night, she had nothing but happiness in her heart. She was also wearing minuscule shorts and a tank top; I doubt she could have hidden a dagger that size anywhere that wouldn't have been visible even if she did steal it."
"So that's what you meant when you said they wouldn't listen to you," Colin said.
"Yes," she replied, and when I glanced up at her, she was staring out at the sea, her face troubled. "Blake did, but the faerie king said he wasn't taking the word of an old statue that claimed to be able to see emotions. Why, I wanted to chomp him in half right then, but logic prevailed, lucky for him."
"And for Blake," I said, my tone dry. "It wouldn't do to have our sentry eat a faerie king. That wouldn't exactly be good for tourism."
Colin barked out a laugh. "Yeah, I can see the headlines now." His voice turned serious. "Why do I get the feeling that's not the only reason you don't believe she did it?"
"Because it isn't," she replied. "One of the men the brothers were with—a blond man—was seething with anger, though he did his best to put on a congenial front. I almost stopped him, but thought better of it because he was just angry, not murderous. Still, he was dangerously close to the tipping point."
I thought back to the shoving match. "I know who you're talking about. They had a tussle down on the beach. And I heard him tell Dain he'd been warned. The dude's nose was seriously out of joint, but I got busy and didn't see where he went. For that matter, I didn't see any of them again because I got busy. They must have gone up to the hotel while I was down at the water bar or tending to the pool. We had a few bigger groups there that day and I was keeping my eyes on drinks rather than who was coming or going."
"I can tell you that the boys came back up after surfing, but they were all laughing and having a good time," she said. I didn't even see Dain leave again, though that only means he must have left through one of the other doors."
The resort had plenty of exits so that guests could get to other areas of the resort. We had tennis courts, parks for kids, benches set up so that couples could watch the sunset, and a few different restaurants and pool areas situated around the property. After a guest had initially passed the security entrances and successfully crossed past Margo before they checked in at the hotel, they were pretty much free to come and go as they pleased through any other exit.
Different security measures were in place for people visiting the tiki because we had a lot of water folk and people who came in on boats, but that was another story, irrelevant to the topic at hand.
"So what about this man? Was he with them when they came back through after surfing?"
"No," she replied, shaking her head and sending a few more specks of sand down on us. "I didn't see him again."
Well that left us at exactly the same place we'd started—believing Marissa was innocent, but not being able to prove it. And the men who were convinced of her guilt had heard the same story and opted not to believe it, so it looked like we were going to clear her on our own.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SINCE BLAKE HAD SAID to meet him at the tiki, we headed in that direction. I assumed Marissa was being kept under house arrest in her room since we didn't have holding cells per se. I wished I could have apparated to her room, but everybody but Blake had to physically enter and leave the resort.
The exits that led off the property were guarded too. Once you officially checked out of the hotel, you only had an hour to exit via any of the external checkpoints or internal portals before you had to get a new clearance.
I pulled off my shoes and enjoyed the feeling of the sand beneath my bare feet as we walked to the tiki. Running my hand along the tops of the sea oats on either side of the path as the sound of the ocean became more prominent, I realized again how much I enjoyed working there.
The topic of the Angels' Ball flitted through my mind and decided now was as good a time as any.
"So," I said, drawing a deep breath. "Remember those tickets Arariel"—the angel of water and a member of the Enchanted Coast Board of Directors who had taken a shine to me—"gave me those tickets to the Angels' Ball?"
"Yeah," he said. "What about it?"
"Well," I said, hedging, "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."
He cast a sideways glance at me and cleared his throat. My face got hot, and I ran through ways to turn it into a joke when he said no.
"I just kinda assumed that was a given," he said instead.
I'd already opened my mouth to offer some glib comment, though I had no idea what it would have been. Instead, I settled for, "Oh. Okay, then. Good."
"I mean, I already had it marked on my calendar," he said, sounding a little unsure. Great. Now I'd gone and thrown a monkey wrench into a situation that was apparently running along without a hitch.
"I did too," I said, groping for some sort of recovery. "Assume you were going, I meant. I just wasn't sure if you did."
He sighed. "I know we're taking this whole thing slow, but maybe it's time to speed it up a little. At least define it. I care about you. I'm not seeing anybody else, and I'm not interested in doing so."
"Same here," I said. "So does this mean we're exclusive?"
"Yes," he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders and smiling down at me. "Just to make it clear, I'm officially declaring you my girlfriend, and declaring myself your boyfriend. Do I need to stop and weave some sort of promise necklace—I'm not ready to weave a ring yet—out of sea grass, or find you a seashell and carve our names inside of a heart or something?"
I laughed and bumped his with my shoulder. "No need to get hasty with grass jewelry or carved seashells; your declaration of boyfriendhood is good enough for me."
A weight I didn't realize I'd been carrying lifted off my shoulders, and I smiled, forgetting for just a minute what a crappy situation we were facing.
By then, we were at the end of the path to the tiki, and the smile slid off my face when we stepped over the spot where I'd found Dain.
Dimitri, our second bartender, set a citrus water in front of me as soon as I sat down. Whereas Bob and I kept it simple, he fancied the drinking water up with oranges, lemons, and limes. It was a nice change of pace and I took a sip of the cool, refreshing drink.
His hair was green this week and I envied him his ability to change it at will. I probably could do it, but I'd have to use a spell that would be a constant draw on my energy. Still, I gave it some thought.
Dimitri slammed a hand onto his slim hip. "Girl, you'
ve had my main boss man in a tizzy. He was down here throwin' a full-blown temper tantrum when he found out you and Bob had gone off-property. No bueno. Not to mention, I had a hot date with an elf I had to cancel because of this mess."
I hadn't given much thought to the fact that Dimitri was a faerie. I frowned. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I hadn't considered the spot it was going to put you in. To be fair, though, Blake didn't give us the option. It was more of an order."
He flapped a hand at me. "I know. Cyri and Aiden told me how it went down. And honestly, I didn't take much heat, and neither did they. I was more a witness than anything else. Blake though, whoo-eee. He took the blame for sending you both away, and the king put that man through the wringer. Came down on him like a ton of bricks for letting you go."
He pinched his lips together and the sass in his gaze was replaced with concern. "Still, I'm glad he, Cyri, and Aiden got you to leave, though. It wouldn't have been pretty for either of you had you stayed. I'm not even sure it's a good idea for you to come back now. It would have been better if you'd stayed away 'til they punished that bloodsucker that killed him."
I drew my brows together in disapproval. It wasn't like him to use racial slurs, and I called him on it. "Hold up a minute. You can't hold what she is against her. You don't see me calling you and A-hole because you're a faerie just like the king is."
He flushed, realizing too late what he'd said. "I'm sorry," he said with a sigh. "I guess I'm just glad they caught her, so that things can get back to normal around here."
"I'll have you know I'm 100 percent sure they have the wrong person. That girl didn't kill Dain any more than you did," I told him.
Colin had been quiet until then, but spoke up when Dimitri opened his mouth to protest. "She's right. And since you're a faerie, you may be better situated to help clear her name than we are. Or at least you may have information that can help clear her."
"How so?" he asked, refilling my glass from the large glass container sitting on top the ice machine.
"He was in a shoving match with a blond guy the afternoon before he was killed," I said. "I saw it myself. And Margo said he had ill intentions when he passed her on his way inside with them."
"First," he said to Colin, "I'm a little offended that you think just because I'm a faerie means I know all faeries. That's a little racist all on its own."
Colin started to apologize but Dimitri held up a hand. "However, I'm willing to overlook it because in this case you happen to be right. The guy you're talking about is Florian Redclove, Thallia's brother."
I looked at Colin, who shrugged. He didn't know any more than I did. "Who's Thallia?"
Dimitri huffed out a breath. "Don't you keep track of anything? Thallia is the bride-to-be. The girl Evan's marrying."
"Okayyyy," I said, drawing out the word. "So why would he push Dain?"
"Because he thinks Dain cast aspersions on his little sister."
"Why does he think that?" Colin asked.
Tempest popped in at that moment. "Because Dain questioned whether or not Thallia and Evan should marry. The problem is that the man got his butt on his shoulders for no reason, though. From what I understand, Dain thinks—thought—Evan's not quite ready to settle down yet and questioned whether marriage was a good idea. Fidelity's kinda a big deal with faeries, apparently. Morel took it as a personal slight because Thallia overheard part of the conversation and told big brother Dain didn't think she was good enough for Evan."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," I said. "Are you telling me this whole thing is because some little twit got butt-hurt because she was eavesdropping, then took what she heard out of context?"
Tempest lifted a furry shoulder. "Wars have been started over much less."
They had indeed. And now some poor schmuck was dead, and I was going to have to mop up the mess and save an innocent life in the process.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DIMITRI NODDED AND started to say something, but a guest came to the bar and took a seat, so he turned to serve him.
While he was pouring a beer, Stephanie, the Valkyrie I mentioned earlier, stepped around the corner, making the green and gold bikini she was wearing look like something out of a Parisian fashion magazine. Of course, anything she wore would look like that just because she was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever met.
She slid onto a barstool and adjusted her hair clip, which was holding her thick mane up into a messy bun. The spring on it snapped when she tried to put it back in. Scowling, she pulled it out of her hair and flung it into a trashcan behind the bar.
"Cheap plastic!" she snapped. "I swear, these modern times claim to be superior to past generations, but almost everything is of inferior quality. I forgot my silver, dwarf-made clips at home, so I bought some of these from one of the fancy boutiques in the resort. That's the third one I've broken; the only thing elevated I've found about them is their cost. I've had my other set for over three hundred years, and the only thing I've had to do to them was polish them when they'd get a bit blood-stained in battle."
I did my best to hide my smile; the last thing I wanted was for an irritated Valkyrie to think I was laughing at her. I pulled a scrunchie from my purse and handed it to her. "Here. I think you'll find this works much better."
She took it from me and put her fingers inside, testing the strength of the elastic before she pulled her hair through it a few times, leaving it in a bun with the final twist.
"Thank you, Destiny," she said. "If you ever need an enemy dispatched, just let me know. This is the third or fourth favor you've done me, and I don't forget my debts."
That time I did smile. "I appreciate the offer, and I'll keep it in mind."
She ordered a white wine spritzer, then pulled her feet up under her so that she was sitting cross-legged on the stool.
"So what's been going on with you?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
"Well, besides tripping over a dead faerie and having the faerie king searching high and low for me to dig through my brain, not much. How about you?"
She set her drink down on the bar, looking positively gleeful, hopefully because she saw an opportunity to pay back the conceived scrunchie debt. "Are you saying this little man poses a threat to you?"
Dimitri was back and held up his hand. "Wait a minute, now. He's not exactly a little man in the scheme of things."
Steph snorted. "No offense, but I could smite him with one hand and not even drop my drink."
"Hold up, Steph," I said. "I'm not sure any smiting is in order, but I have to say I'm glad to have you in my corner." I wasn't above letting her do some smiting if somebody tried to turn my brain to mush, though.
"As your generation is prone to saying, damn straight—I've got your back, sister."
Though it was no laughing matter, I smothered a giggle because it was kinda fun hearing modern slang coming from a woman who tended to speak Greek half the time. Ancient Greek at that.
"Thanks," I said just as Blake popped around the corner, glancing over his shoulder. He looked like he'd been rode hard and put away wet. His usual uniform of khaki shorts and white polo shirt was rumpled, he had a couple days' worth of stubble on his face, and I could pack for a weekend away using the bags under his eyes.
"Wow," Colin said. "You okay, man? You don't look so good."
Dimitri set two fingers of bourbon, neat, on the bar in front of him and he tossed it back in one go.
"Not really," he said after barely wincing when the booze hit the back of his throat. "Your boss is a real ball-breaker."
"Yeah," Dimitri said, pity on his face. "He's no bundle of joy under the best of circumstances, and these definitely aren't anywhere close to that."
I cut to the chase. "Where's Marissa? She's innocent, and we can't let Good King Kills-a-Lot lop off her head or whatever it is he has planned before I can prove it. For that matter, why do they think she's guilty to begin with?"
He collapsed onto a stool beside Stephanie. "Her fingerprints were fou
nd on the knife."
"So," our friendly neighborhood Valkyrie said. "My fingerprints are on thousands of knives that have likely been used to murder somebody. That's no proof."
"It is to King Morel," he said. "Once we found the prints and the other princes confirmed she'd been in his room, that was all she wrote as far as he was concerned."
"But what about what Margo said?" Colin asked, after asking Dimitri for a beer.
Blake shook his head. "In one ear and out the other."
"I fail to see how a man this reckless has remained king without losing his head," Stephanie said. "He must not have been front and center in any wars I oversaw, because he's the first type I pick to die. Odin had his faults, but he was fair, overall. That was one of the reasons we served him."
"Yeah, that doesn't seem to be this guy," I said.
"Plus," Dimitri said, "there haven't really been any challenges to his rule. He's only a few hundred years old."
She nodded. "That explains it then. He ascended to the throne without being thoroughly tested."
A swirl of color popping around the corner behind her caught my eye, and I realized it was an older faerie accompanied by four guards. Based on the robes and crown, I had to assume we were now in the presence of royalty. I made a sawing motion at my throat toward Steph, warning her to be quiet, but she took it wrong.
"You're correct," she said. "A thousand years ago, he would have likely lost his head in any true battle. He's a king in name only."
Ah crap. The king's expression turned thunderous as he came into her field of vision. When she pivoted her stool to face him, she maintained her relaxed demeanor. I was probably the only one who noticed the slight stiffening of her posture.
The king raised himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest. "Young lady, I certainly hope 'twas not to me you are referring."
Steph reached around for her drink and took a sip before she answered. "Are you Morel?"