He frowned, swallowed. “My cuz, Dufleur Thyme…” He vanished.
Trif gritted her teeth. Just like a man to go without a word. She knew he was shaken at his cuz’s circumstances, but surely he could have spared a word for his HeartMate. If he had wanted to.
She stumbled from bed, scowling. “Greyku?” she shouted.
I am at T’Blackthorn Residence for breakfast. Mitchella is studying My tinting. She has ideas I can tell to that artist. There was a slight hesitation. Something is wrong? I felt something bad, but FamMan was there….
Ilex is my HeartMate!
WHEEE!!! Good, good news!
Something happened to his cuz, Trif said with a frown.
And her FamCat, Fairyfoot? Yesss, I thought I heard a Cat scream through our bond.
You stay there, Trif ordered. Since Mitchella was asking Greyku what was happening and serving furrabeast steak bites, Trif was sure the little cat would stay.
For a few seconds, Trif dithered…should she run for the shower or try a whirlwind spell? She knew the spell, but the two times she’d tried it, it had gone horribly awry. Her Flair had spiked as she’d listed what she wanted. But her Flair now felt…reliable, quiet and steady. From her lovemaking with Ilex? Probably.
And if she kept the spell simple, maybe it would work. She cleared her throat. “Whirlwind spell, cleansing and dressing!” She snapped her fingers.
The wind came and scrubbed her, and in places that felt too tender to be scoured. She made a noise of distress, but the air was gone before she could form words to banish it.
She looked down to see herself in a dark blue trous suit, appropriate for work, and a light jacket. Good enough. Drawing herself up to her full height, she tested her link with Ilex. It wasn’t a HeartBond, but it was a very strong thread—and not too thin either. She could teleport to him from her main space. No one she knew would teleport into her apartment. She thought Ilex would avoid her if he could.
Now for another new spell—or a variation on teleporting. She dragged in a deep breath. If this teleportation worked, she’d use up much of her Flair for the day—just have enough to work with D’Holly.
She opened herself in every way to the link between her and her HeartMate. Ilex had squashed his emotions into a corner of his being, though she felt his suppressed horror and anger. For one flashing instant, she saw through his eyes and recognized the place, a corner of Landing Park. She knew a smaller park two streets away very well, had attended some grove studies there. She sent a questing spatial probe to that park and found it empty. Blowing out a breath, she took another and muttered, “One my HeartMate, two my HeartMate, three!”
Trif landed exactly where she’d visualized, on the edge of the roundpark at right angles to a street leading directly to Landing Park. She ran until she saw him, stooped between the bodies of two naked women; then she burst into speed. He looked up at her, and even a block away she could se the stark pain in his eyes. “T’Heather!” he called, and the way he did so showed he’d called the highest Celtan Healer before.
She stopped, panting. “What can I do?”
His hands were curled around the fingers of one of the women. A small cat lay curled on her stomach, equally limp. “My cuz is—very ill, I think.”
She glanced at the other woman. “And—”
“She’s dead. I don’t know her, do you?”
Forcing herself to look at the face of the all-too-still person, Trif said. “No.” Trif stripped off her jacket and gently placed it over his cuz. Trif shivered, but it wasn’t from the cool autumn air. “How can I help?” She squatted and took Dufleur’s hand.
“For the third time, and by the Lady and Lord, T’Heather, come!”
A noticeable “pop” sounded behind them. “I’m here! Why call me instead of—” He stopped and joined them, hunkering down. “Oh, Guardsman Winterberry.” With one glance he examined the dead woman, put his hand between her breasts. “Dead.” He met Ilex’s eyes. “The same way as before.”
“Do you know who she is?” Ilex asked.
“Yes, Calla Sorrel.” His mouth tightened, he looked at Trif from under lowered brows. “She visited Noble HealingHall to be treated for wild bursts of irregular Flair.”
Trif froze.
Eighteen
“I’ll need to speak with her Healers,” Ilex said.
Suddenly, the memory of meeting Ilex at the Gingers’ flooded her, tightening her throat so she had to push words out. “What’s going on?”
T’Heather ignored her as he examined Dufleur Thyme. “I’m ’porting her to Noble HealingHall transnow. She has heart problems. The cat should go to D’Ash, of course.”
The cat opened her eyes. I will stay with my FamWoman. I am a Hero. I called to Black Ilex through the Family bond. I saved Us. I am a proper Fam. D’Ash can come see Me.
“Stay then, I’ll teleport you both,” T’Heather grumbled.
“Will she be all right?” With obvious reluctance, Ilex withdrew his hand from his cuz’s.
“Perhaps. When you are done here, send the remains of GentleLady Sorrel to me at Noble HealingHall that I might examine them.” His face set in stern lines, T’Heather picked up the cat and put her on his big shoulder, gathered Dufleur close, and they vanished.
Slowly, Trif rose from cramped muscles. “What is going on? And why didn’t you tell me?”
Ilex had turned to Sorrel; pulling a sensorball from one of his pockets, he set it going. “If you want to help, take care of that one.” He waved and Trif noticed a violently trembling housefluff huddling in the young woman’s shadow.
Trif cried out and reached for the small animal—surely it wasn’t full grown. “Poor baby,” she crooned. The long-eared housefluff burrowed into the crook of her arm, hiding its face in her side. Striving to keep her voice calm, her emotions level, when she wanted to pace back and forth and wave her arms, she said once more, “Ilex. What is happening?”
“Murder.” He glanced at her and his eyes were the warmth and shade of ice chips. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I need to do my job, Trif. Please keep quiet.” He raised his hands and sent a warm, quiet breeze around the area, and as he did so, he tranced.
Watching him work almost distracted her from all the other thoughts tumbling in her head—he was her HeartMate. He didn’t want her to know they were mated. The Ginger murder and this incident were related. Calla Sorrel had unstable Flair. Trif found herself pacing after all, flattening grass into a path.
Finally, Ilex blinked, shifted his stance, then nodded coolly in her direction.
“Why didn’t you tell me!” Trif demanded.
“He was under orders to keep silent,” said a man behind her. Trif whirled to see Chief Sawyr.
“What are you doing here, Mistrys Clover?”
She cuddled the housefluff closer.
“She was with me when the cat screamed danger down the Family blood link I have with my cuz,” Ilex told him.
Straightening her shoulders, she said, “I thought I could help.”
Sawyr blew a gusty sigh. “We couldn’t keep it quiet for much longer anyway. I’m sure I’ll get cleared by the First Families Council for a statement to the newssheets later.” He sent her a hard stare and stepped between her and the body. “I’ll ask you to keep this confidential until Ilex briefs the FirstFamilies.”
“Yes,” Trif agreed numbly.
“Guardsman Winterberry is still under orders from the FirstFamiles to keep this case quiet. Better learn to accept that if you’re going to be his mate. He gave you that retrieval amulet you’re wearing, right, at some cost to himself? And has been looking out for you. Isn’t that enough?” Sawyr said. He turned and bent down.
Ilex said, “If you want to help, you should take that Fam to D’Ash before it dies of shock.”
Startled, she glanced down at the animal she held. Ilex was right. Its life force was fading, something she hadn’t sensed. He was so much more mature, in control, than she, and at that moment sh
e nearly hated him for it. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said, and didn’t like that her voice was stilted either, but it was the best she could do.
“Isn’t your Family expecting you and D’Holly at Clover Compound this morning?”
He was well informed. A flash of understanding came. It was he who’d given D’Holly some of Trif ’s music!
“Later.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t have enough Flair to teleport to D’Ash’s.”
“There’s a guard glider behind you. Can she use it, Chief?”
Sawyr didn’t look up from his examination. “We need all the witnesses we have, even if it’s a fliggering housefluff.” He snorted almost amused laughter. “You can interview it, Ilex.”
Ilex didn’t react. Not to his Chief. Not to her.
“Mistrys,” a voice said at her elbow, and she looked up to see a young female guardsman, not an officer, gesture to the glider.
Trif smiled tightly. “Thank you.” Careful of the little animal, she slid onto the bench inside the vehicle. “Chief Sawyr, I need to stop by MidClass Lodge before I go to Clover Compound. Is that all right?”
The man grunted, flapped a hand. “Go, go. You, guardswoman Acacia Bluegum, come back here when you’re done.”
“Yessir!” She lowered Trif ’s door.
They shot away, smooth and silent as always, and Trif found her lips trembling, emotions churning. She burned to speak with Ilex now, confront him about being her HeartMate and her quest and the murders and everything. But he had work and she needed to get the housefluff to D’Ash, then soothe her anxious Family about D’Holly’s visit, then master herself enough to learn from the GreatLady.
Her life was suddenly too adventurous.
Ilex watched the glider carrying Trif speed away, and kept his emotions firmly tucked away. Nothing he could do right now.
Sawyr joined him. “Problems in the courtship stage are a very bad omen.”
“A great many ‘bad’ events are happening,” Ilex said. They both turned to look at the scene. Bel had risen, but the trees of Landing Park had long, long shadows, and the body lay in one of them.
“You got everything you could?” Sawyr asked.
Stiffening, Ilex said, “I admit I attended to my cuz first.”
“Always minister to the injured first.”
Ilex eased. “Yes.” He handed the sensorball to Sawyr. “But I used this, and also my Flair.”
The man grunted and put it in his pocket. “Good. Report.”
“There were four people here, three men and one woman—just long enough to dump the bodies. Some panic-sweat tang I can add to my poppets, and I’ll need to make another female. I think we’ll get enough information to use the dolls. The cult overreached themselves trying for two.”
“Good.” Sawyr’s expression hardened. “One is bad enough. Anything that will delay this fliggering group is good for us. Maybe they’ll slow down enough for us to find them.”
“I hope so. Also some lingering vibrations of sex amongst them. Unhealthy excitement. T’Heather came.”
“What!”
“He insisted I call him if another murder occurred. And I wanted him for my cuz.”
“Understand that. Expensive, though.”
“Yes.” Ilex winced. He’d have to arrange a payment plan with the Noble HealingHall.
“Walk with me and help me spellshield the area. Handle the illusion.” They began the low, murmured chant that would mask the area from curiosity seekers, working well together, as usual. When it was done, not even Ilex could discern the bubble that reflected back what was around it. He could sense it, but couldn’t see it. And a guard warning was attached to anyone who tried to penetrate the spellshield.
Sawyr said, “Would have thought that you’d have warned your cuz about the murders.”
“We just met, but I would have, and I wouldn’t have given her a Fam, but she told me her Flair was fine. I felt it myself—strong and steady.”
“Fam saved her life.”
“Yes.”
Sawyr rubbed his ear. “Your cuz’s Flair was fine?”
“Yes.”
“Strange. A break in the pattern. Better talk to her.”
“I certainly will.”
At that moment, there was a discreet “whoosh” and the Healer, T’Heather, appeared. He nodded to Chief Sawyr. “Greetyou, Chief.”
Sawyr bowed. “Greetyou.”
“Ilex, you’re still here. I thought so.” He strode forward through the spellshield.
Ilex and Sawyr looked at each other. Sawyr shrugged. “FirstFamily Lords,” he muttered. They both followed the Healer.
T’Heather hunkered down beside the body. “Poor girl. Eighteen her last nameday. Her soul’s circling on the Wheel of Stars now, blessings upon her.”
“Blessings,” Ilex and Sawyr said in unison.
“Heart is definitely gone.” A tremor ran through T’Heather. Ilex felt disgust and fury from him. “Pulled from the body alive, I think. I’ll know more when I examine her.” He bent down and sniffed her skin. “Odd fragrance. That incense you noticed before, Black Ilex?”
“Yes,” Ilex said. He still couldn’t place it. “Do you know it?”
“No. Hmm.” Heather glanced up at them. “As a member of the FirstFamilies Council, I informed her parents, D’Sorrel and T’Sorrel, as well as the rest of the Council. The leader of all the Councils, T’Hawthorn, is going to the Sorrels now. He has studied the interviews you’ve done with the parents of the earlier victims and will question them for you.”
Sawyr opened his mouth, then shut it.
“Hawthorn is not a detective,” Ilex said mildly.
“He’s a keen businessman, and a father to a daughter. He has great Flair. He’ll see true and be compassionate. Consider his findings. If you think you can do better, you’re authorized to speak with them, Guardsman Black Ilex Winterberry. We thought that this would save you time.” T’Heather passed a quick hand down the woman’s body. “All her other organs are inviolate. No sexual activity. The girl was a virgin. Pity. My understanding is that the other victims were not virgins.”
“Correct,” Ilex said when Sawyr didn’t speak.
“That is not a factor in their filthy rituals then,” T’Heather said. “I’m teleporting the body to my Residence,” he said. He cocked his head as if listening, then addressed Ilex. “Winterberry, your cuz is doing well in Noble HealingHall, NobleRoom eight. She’s conscious and asking for you.”
“Thank you. I’ll pay for her care.”
“Right.” Heather took the dead girl’s wrist in his hand and they vanished.
Sawyr let out a breath in one long hiss, glanced around the scene, and tromped back through the spellshield. “FirstFamilies’ interference. Have I told you how I hate FirstFamilies’ fliggering interference in a case?”
“Not since the last time.”
“Why can’t they just let us do our jobs?” he muttered, then raised a palm when Ilex was about to speak. “Never mind. They’re too fliggering arrogant and just plain damn weird with all that great Flair.”
“And powerful,” Ilex said.
“That too. Think they can do anything. Everything.” Sawyr studied Landing Park, tugged at his earlobe. “Think we have all we can get from the scene?”
“I don’t know. I’d like to talk to my cuz.”
Sawyr nodded. “Go.”
Dufleur was pale, but garbed in an embroidered silkeen robe and sitting up on her bedsponge when Ilex entered the luxurious NobleRoom Eight. She smiled, and again he was struck by how lovely that made her. He took a chair and straddled it, smiled. “You’re looking better, cuz.”
“Thanks to you.” She rubbed the furry stomach of her Fam beside her, who lay on her back, four paws curling. “And thanks to Fairyfoot.”
“Where’s your mother?” Ilex asked.
Dufleur’s face went stony. “I asked them not to call her. You didn’t, did you?” She stiffened.
“No
.”
Relaxing, she didn’t meet his eyes and said, “My thanks. Mother wouldn’t have come anyway. She doesn’t like Healing Halls. At least, she never came here the three days my father was dying.”
Ilex cleared his throat. “I am sorry for your loss.”
She looked away, then back at him with liquid eyes, she said, “I’ve forgotten, how long has your father been gone? Do you miss him? Were you…closer to him than your mother?”
Even if Trif had asked those questions, Ilex wouldn’t have answered. But here was a cuz who sat in a HealingHall because he’d given her a Fam and who now wanted to compare notes on their very difficult Family. Their very difficult mothers. “He died when I was ten.” It had hurt him, had devastated his fourteen-year-old brother. “He’s been gone a long time.” Ilex forced the next words out. “I loved him. He was a good man.” Ilex hadn’t visited his father’s memorial in the back of the estate for a long time. His father had left a holojournal too, which Ilex hadn’t looked at for far too long. Had his brother taken that when he’d left Druida?
“I’m sorry.” Dufleur’s whisper brought him back to the present. She lay pale and nearly upright against huge Flaired pillows that conformed to her shape and offered solid support.
“Back to this nasty business,” he said. “I knew there were murderers targeting the lower Nobility—”
“Not much lower than me.” She made a face.
“—who had Fams, and would never have given Fairyfoot to you if you hadn’t told me your Flair was well under control.”
She blinked rapidly several times; then a blush crept from the neckline of her robe to her face. She wasn’t nearly so attractive when she flushed. “It’s true…was true. Until…”
“Until?”
Reaching for a glass of water, she sipped. “I was walking back to D’Winterberry Residence late last night. I’d finished a long, intricate piece of embroidery ordered for GrandLady D’Yew’s Nameday. FirstFamily GrandLord T’Yew demanded it today and he’s a difficult but well-paying customer.” She swallowed some more water, flushed redder, and didn’t meet his eyes when she continued. “Anyway, I was walking home when I sens-saw this object.”
Heart Quest Page 20