by Ashley Meira
“I can’t taste it,” Adam said. “You always manage to impress me.”
“Lilacs,” I said flatly. I was not going to let him flatter me. “It smells like lilacs. Just like the magic around Elizabeth.”
“That I remember.” He frowned, leaning forward. “Hard to smell anything with your magic. I don’t mind, though. Cinnamon is better than lilacs.”
Mages couldn’t sense their own magic, but I’d learned mine smelled like cinnamon and tasted like chocolate. I guess it was a good thing I couldn’t sense it. Otherwise, I’d be walking around craving dessert all day. Well, more than I already did.
“Move away from me then,” I said.
“I can smell it fine. You just smell better.” He kissed my cheek. “Same magical signature means same killer. It doesn’t belong to a person, though, and it isn’t the murder weapon. Sandra was hit over the head.”
“Poor girl.” I covered my mouth to hide my trembling lip. I didn’t know Sandra very well, but she was such a happy, kind person. What kind of monster could do this to her?
“It’s going to be okay,” Adam said. “We’re going to catch this guy.”
“Don’t try to reassure me,” I huffed. “I’m still mad you went off without me and got yourself arrested!”
Damien’s snort drew the agents’ attention. “Nothing. Carry on.”
“I don’t need hands to kick your ass,” Adam ground out.
“Should the murder suspect really be threatening people?” I asked. It was one thing when we were near the entrance, but there were agents around here.
“Don’t worry,” Damien said casually. “This is all a formality. Find someone hovering over a body and book’em. He’s a Pierce. Even if they do consider him a viable suspect, they’re not going to place him in lockup.”
“I hate politics,” Adam and I grumbled.
“Even when it benefits you? That’s weak, bro.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said.
Leaving Adam and Damien to their bickering, I entered the living room. The agents turned to me when I got close, but I just shrugged and nodded toward the brothers. “They’re really loud.”
The agents looked at them, their magic unnerved, before giving me a nod and warning me not to get any closer. With all the Council people around, that wouldn’t be a problem. Just being in the same building as these guys felt like walking on razor wire.
Still, on the off chance Adam was going to be considered a suspect, I wanted to find something to exonerate him. He’d killed before, but Adam wasn’t a murderer. Memories of my nightmare, of me and Snow burning those men alive on our kidnapper’s orders flashed in my mind. No, Adam wasn’t a murderer.
But I was.
Sandra’s living room was decorated in soft pinks and yellows. Signs of a struggle were evident in the smashed coffee table and overturned sofa. There was a discarded slipper near the bookcase on the opposite side of the room, and her phone was near the fireplace across from me. I wouldn’t be able to get to it with all these people in the room.
Unlike Elizabeth, Sandra’s eyes were open. Ollie’s mac and cheese was threatening to claw back out my throat at the sight of her dull, clouded eyes. They used to be such a vibrant shade of blue. I swallowed, bile searing my throat.
Handprint-shaped bruises were wrapped around her frail wrists. No way to tell if they matched the ones on Elizabeth, but I’d bet my right arm they did. There was blood seeping from her head, and a heavy-looking statue of a ballerina a few feet away.
The other people here were interfering with my reading, but besides the lilacs, none of the magical signatures from the parking lot were here. Except mine and Adam’s, of course. But considering we were on a plane when Elizabeth died, there was no way we could’ve—
I smacked my forehead. He already had an alibi. This confirmed it: being around Adam Pierce made me stupid. And happy, part of me added. Filthy traitor.
Like with Elizabeth, the icy magic lingered around Sandra’s body in a mist but didn’t move farther. Maybe there were clues in the rest of her house? Something she and Elizabeth had in common, or a clue as to the source of that magic.
“Can I use her bathroom?” I asked.
A few of the agents shot me dirty looks, but nodded anyway. “Just don’t touch anything.”
Nodding, I slipped through the archway on the right and walked down the hall. A bedroom decorated in pink lace and stuffed animals was at the very end of the corridor. If there weren’t designer dresses in the closet and high-end makeup on the dresser, I’d have confused this for a little girl’s room.
I wrapped my arms around my middle as my heart clenched. Her killer was getting a kick to the throat. Twice. With heels. Fiona’s heels, because I didn’t own any and always borrowed hers.
Searching around Sandra’s room turned up nothing helpful. There were papers on her bed, left there as an afterthought. Pictures of her with Aunt Phyllis and paperwork about the will. The legal mumbo-jumbo made my eyes water, but I got the gist of it. A notice she’d been named in the will and details on how to claim the item. Sad but not case-breaking.
Further investigation revealed a safe behind her dresser. Picking the lock revealed a surprising amount of money and her diary. I felt like a horrible person for reading it, but there could’ve been a clue inside.
January 1: Dear diary, my New Year’s resolution is to write in you every day!
I flipped through the rest of the book. Totally blank. Broken resolutions. We did have something in common.
Once I was sure there was nothing helpful in the safe, I shot the cash a final yearning look before locking it back up. When I stepped back into the entryway, Adam was still annoyed. His magic crackled around him, occasionally snapping at Damien, who smirked each time.
“Are you okay?” Adam asked.
“What were you worried about?” Damien asked. “Think she fell in the toilet?”
Adam worked his jaw and led me back into the hall instead of replying. “Well?”
I furrowed my brow. “Well, what? I didn’t fall into any toilets.”
An agent popped his head in to check on us. I edged around until Adam was blocking most of my body. Sighing, I remembered when I used to get mad over him shielding me. When did I get neutered? Once he was satisfied we weren’t plotting our next murder, the agent left us alone.
Adam turned around, brow raised. “They’re not powerful enough to sense your magic.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “I just don’t like being stared at.”
“This is why I didn’t want you here.” He was speaking more to himself than me, but it was hard to miss anything in the silent hallway.
“Excuse me?”
“Sweetheart, do you remember our first meeting at the Guild? You flipped out the moment you laid eyes on me—”
“I did not—” I bit my lip. “Fine.”
“You’re worried someone will sense your magic and report to the man who took you, and you don’t seem fond of the Council either—”
“I don’t have a problem with the Council.” I shrugged, but the jerking of my muscles told me the motion wasn’t as casual as I wanted.
“I didn’t think you’d want to be around these guys,” he said patiently.
“I thought you didn’t want me to see you in cuffs.”
“Not in this position, anyway.” He grinned, dipping his head down toward mine. “But if you’re interested….”
He was giving me an out again. “Thank you for the concern. About the trackers, I mean.”
His gray eyes glistened in the darkness. “Thank you for rushing over. You were scared. Your magic was off the charts,” he said before I could deny it. “Those guys might not be able to sense it, but I can.”
“Nice to know the ice queen cares, huh?”
“I’ve never called you that. You’re too nice and warm.” His smile was kind. “‘Care,’ though. That’s a nice word.”
The urge to kiss him was overwhelm
ing, so I chomped on my lip instead. Yeah, much better. Except not at all. “Do your arms hurt?”
He gave a non-committal grunt. “It’s annoying, that’s for sure.”
“I think the handcuffs suit you.” I smirked. Snark was good. Snark powered my personal shield. Too bad I’d need ten to handle Adam.
“Kinky.” He bit at me.
I reeled back, willing my blush to recede. “I meant because you can’t touch me.”
“You don’t seem to mind my touch these days, but if you want to do all the touching, that’s fine.”
That sounded more than fine. “It’s stuff like this that makes me think you have a creepy sex dungeon in your house.”
“Is that why you refuse to visit?”
I glared at him.
He rolled his eyes. “I assure you there’s no sex dungeon.”
I scanned his face — his perfect, stupid face — before relaxing.
“But I can build one if you like.”
“Urgh!” I let out a loud groan. “I hate you.”
“No problem,” he said. “I already told you: I like you enough for the both of us.”
“Am I interrupting?”
Thomas Corbin stood by Damien. He was Jeffery’s older brother, and his complete opposite. Where Jeffery was all pastel and high fashion, Thomas was muted tones and expensive suits. His ginger hair was slicked back with so much gel it glistened, and the thin square frames he wore made his features appear even smaller. What Adrienne saw in him, I’d never know. I guess he treated her well, but she was a romantic. It was hard to imagine someone as rigid as Thomas being romantic.
His pasty skin looked even sicklier than usual. A thin sheen of sweat covered his brow and the top of his lip. Someone had seen the body, it seemed.
“Not at all,” I said, waving at him. Thomas was a stick-in-the-mud, but he was much easier to deal with than Jeffery.
“Good.” Thomas’ eyes lingered on Adam’s bound arms. “Mr. Pierce…. I heard there was a suspect.”
“One that was on a plane returning from Greece during the first murder,” Adam said. He’d already thought of his defense. Jerk had me worried for nothing. “I’m assuming Elizabeth’s death has already been connected to Sandra’s?”
“Sorry,” I said before Thomas could reply. “but have you seen Adrienne tonight? Or heard from her?”
“Is that why you’re here? Looking for her?”
“Yes,” Damien said. “Looking for… her.” How vague and political of him. Thomas was actually on the Council, so I wondered if he’d read between the lines. Based on his bemused expression, I didn’t think so.
“She went to tell Sandra about Elizabeth,” I said. “I’m just worried about her.”
“No need,” he said. “We spoke not too long ago. In fact, I have plans to meet her after this.”
“This?”
He nodded to the crime scene. “I’m in charge of the investigation.”
Damien’s brows shot up. “A Council member is handling this directly?”
“Yes,” Thomas said. “When I heard Sandra’s best friend had passed, I wanted to do this for her. The poor dear was a wreck over her aunt; I didn’t want this case to draw out. She’s already been through so much. Too much now, I imagine.”
“You imagine correctly,” Damien said. “She was murdered.”
Thomas pursed his lips. “That was my point. Poor thing. Jeffery will be devastated. He was very fond of her.”
I raised a brow. From what I saw, he didn’t treat her very well. “I wasn’t aware they were that close.”
“Indeed. She was the only serious girlfriend he’s ever had.”
“Are you sick?” Damien asked. It was amazing how he managed to be both smooth and blunt as a hammer. “Your magic is completely muted.”
It was, I realized. There were no traces of magic around Thomas. Which shouldn’t have been possible since he was a mage. What the hell?
“He’s right,” Adam said. “Your magic is unreadable.”
“I’m fine.” Thomas paused, then rolled up his sleeve to reveal a plain golden band. “I’ve been trying to get in better physical shape. Unfortunately, the intensity of my workouts causes my magic to spark out, hitting my trainer. This way, I can’t do anything.”
“You muzzled yourself with an inhibitor bangle?” Damien said. “Hardcore.”
“I believe in challenging myself,” he said. “Deactivating and reactivating it is a pain, so I decided to keep it on for the foreseeable future.”
He was still speaking, but his words faded away as I stared at that bangle. Inhibitor bangles were only used on prisoners in the Black Citadel. They completely blocked a person’s magic, preventing prisoners from escaping. From what Adam told me, inhibitor bangles were strictly regulated. They were designated to the Council and a single Inquisitor — in case of escape. They were the only ones capable of removing the bangle.
When I heard about them, I wanted one. Still did, though it was impossible. If I had an inhibitor bangle, my not-a-mage act would be complete. No one would sense my magic, and I would never be able to hurt someone with it. Win-win. Except….
“I hear they feel like death.” Or so Cyrus, the crazy mage I’d arrested last month, claimed.
“They do,” he said. “A necessary evil. I believe the saying is ‘no pain, no gain.’”
Wow. Talk about dedication. Maybe he was bulking up to impress Adrienne. Should I tell her?
Thomas looked between us. “I recall hearing you were working for Mr. Pierce. But I thought that business was concluded. What are you two doing together?”
I tried to ignore the implication that someone like him would deign to spend time with someone like me — mostly because it felt like I was projecting.
“He was just giving me a ride. To here. Sandra’s. So I could find Adrienne.” And now all I could think of was Adam and riding. Was that even what Damien had said? That we were looking for Adrienne? I couldn’t remember. I looked at Sandra. Suddenly, being dead didn’t seem so bad. “Right?”
“Speaking of the work she did for me, did you ever get those enchantments back up at Mount Sinai?” Adam asked.
That was the first place we’d tracked the Heart of Gaia to. Thomas had been in charge of the enchantments protecting a temple from outsiders, but there ended up being an army of mages digging around.
“Yes,” Thomas said curtly. “I have no idea what happened to the original protections, but I assure you it’s been taken care of.”
“How about taking care of this too?” Damien pointed to Adam’s handcuffs.
“Yes, of course. I apologize for the inconvenience,” Thomas said quickly. He seemed eager to get rid of us, though it was hard to tell with his magic locked up. Maybe he was scared of the Pierce family? “I’ll make a quick call to clear all this up. And you’ll need to stay in town, just in case.”
Adam raised a brow. “Just in case?”
“A formality, I’m sure.” I patted Adam’s arm before leaning against him. No need to rock the boat.
Adam seemed to relax at my touch, but the mages coming toward us made me stiffen. Knowing they couldn’t sense my magic didn’t make me feel any better.
Not that I was encouraging it, but why weren’t there stronger mages here? Maybe the Council didn’t consider this a huge case yet? Murders weren’t an epidemic in our world, but they weren’t uncommon either. Could be they didn’t feel like sending in the cavalry when someone like Thomas was already here. I wondered how they would react knowing he was essentially neutered at the moment. Wouldn’t he have called in the big guns himself then? He said he was doing this for Sandra. Didn’t he want the best? It was possible they just hadn’t arrived yet.
All this nervous energy made me think too much.
Another mage stepped into the entryway, forcing me into the hall. How many people did they even need to investigate a room? A figure in the corner startled me. I recognized Thomas’ silhouette before I finished drawing my sw
ord.
“You don’t understand. This is Adam Pierce,” he hissed into his phone while pacing around. “The last thing either of us needs is that family breathing down our necks. No— No— Attaching his name to these deaths will bring too much attention. You may not be worried about him, but I am. Besides, we both know he didn’t do this.” I didn’t need to read his magic to notice the sweat drenching his brow or the frazzled breathlessness of his words. He was really worried about pissing off the Pierces. I didn’t blame him. “Yes.” His shoulders sagged in relief. “I’ll take care of it.”
I backed away so he wouldn’t notice I was snooping.
“Who’s there?” he called nervously. So much for that. “Ms. Sinclair?”
“Hey,” I said, stepping into the light.
“What are you doing?” he snipped. Geez. He was tighter than his starched collars.
I didn’t want to admit I was hiding from his agents, so I told him, “Adam sent me. He’s getting antsy.”
“I see.” His words were slow as he peered at me. “Well, he can go. I’m surprised he hasn’t broken free from his handcuffs already.”
So was I. We stepped back into the entryway, and Thomas ordered one of the mages to uncuff Adam. Said firebird looked ready to set the entire place ablaze. Once freed, he rubbed his wrists, a frown on his face. There were thin red lines across both wrists. I bit my lip as the urge to kiss them better bloomed within me.
Damien gestured for us to follow him. “Let’s go.”
For once, I was more than happy to receive an order from him. Adam shook Thomas’ hand before following us out the door. Casting one final look over my shoulder, I noticed Thomas looking at us from above the thin rim of his glasses. His lips were pressed tight as he pulled out his phone and made another call.
Chapter Six
The walk to the brothers’ cars was silent save for Damien’s insistence that Adam go home. It seemed Mr. Falsely Accused was tired, because he agreed without a fuss. He wanted to make sure I got home safe, though. I told them Fiona would pick me up, but my words got lost in brotherly warfare.