by Vella Day
If he thought by staying after his cousin’s death that he could have helped, he would have, but everyone seemed to think his cousin had committed suicide. While he hadn’t been around Tamarella much in the last couple of years, she’d never felt sorry for herself. How had she changed that much? Surely, someone in his family would have mentioned her altered personality.
“Kenton? A moment of your time?” Bevon telepathed.
A second later, his brother was by his side. “You sound worried. I thought a face-to-face might be in order.”
“Not worried. Concerned.”
“They mean the same thing.”
“Fine. I am a bit disturbed. Happy?” He explained he received a message from Tally.
Kenton grabbed a coffee cup out of the kitchen cabinet and poured himself a drink. The fact he didn’t swipe his hand and create the drink implied he was becoming more accustomed to life here.
“Are you sure that this woman who arrived at our aunt’s home is your Zulema?”
Zulema didn’t belong to him. “Yes. Or at least I’m pretty sure she is.”
“Good. Now that we’ve had time to think about Tamarella’s death, do you believe she took her life because she was being forced into a marriage with Tristan?” Kenton asked.
Bevon had met Tristan. The man wasn’t someone he would necessarily go out of his way to hang out with, but he seemed a nice enough sort of soul—for a warlock. “Not really, mostly because Tamarella wasn’t highly rebellious. She wanted what was best for both families.”
“I agree.”
Bevon downed the rest of his coffee. “I guess it’s time I take a little visit home. I trust you can man the portals?”
“Of course. Besides, we don’t need you distracted by a woman for a reason other than enjoyment.”
Bevon laughed. “So true, brother. So true.”
Once Kenton left, Bevon created a portal to his home world. As much as he enjoyed Tarradon and all that it had to offer, he was the first to admit that Feyrion was quite glorious. The weather was always perfect, the air pure, and the colors stimulating. Yes, there were pockets of evil, but his portion of Feyrion was quite special.
He teleported straight to his parents’ home. Out of habit, he knocked and then teleported into the living room. “Tally?” he telepathed.
His sister appeared next to him. “You came!” She hugged him, which was not her usual greeting.
“Why wouldn’t I? Did something else happen you failed to mention?”
“No, and I want to keep it that way.”
Like all Fairies, they seemed incapable of getting to the point. “Tell me what you know.”
“Not much other than some dragon shifter swooped in and ended up being invited to stay the night at Aunt Drina’s house. Here’s the thing. She said her name was Anna DeLeon.”
Bevon laughed. “You mean I came here because of the wrong woman?”
“No, that is what has me worried. She is claiming to be a friend of Tamarella’s.”
“Maybe she is. Why do you think she’s Zulema?”
“She has long black hair and is rather exotic looking.”
He shook his head. “Your imagination is getting the best of you. We know that our cousin visited Tarradon because she fell in love with that no good Derrick Valoric. She probably met many people.”
Tally glanced away. “I know.”
“I’m sure more than one pretty woman in the world has long, black hair.”
“Perhaps.”
He felt bad that Tally was distressed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll visit Aunt Drina to offer my sympathies once more. I’ll mention that I heard that Tamarella’s friend from Tarradon was there visiting. I’ll see her for myself. Okay?”
A small smile lifted her lips. “Thank you, but be careful.”
“Of what? She can’t hurt me.”
“I know, but you have a fragile heart.”
He laughed. “Me? I’ve never fallen for a woman.”
“Not yet, my dear brother. Not yet.”
“What does that mean?”
Before she could answer, their mother arrived. “Bevon! This is such a nice surprise.”
“Mother.”
“Tally told me both she and Fay are worried about you.”
He needed to solve this once and for all. “I’m sure it’s a case of mistaken identity.”
“I hope so, but I’m glad I am able to see you again—and so soon. I hope that brother of yours hasn’t gotten into trouble.”
“Kenton? Hardly. Tory keeps him in line,” Bevon said. Both understood that Kenton would do nothing to besmirch the Forrester’s good name.
“Happy to hear that. I know you want to resolve this issue, so be on your way. My sister is understandably beside herself since she’s taking the blame for Tamarella’s death, you know.”
“How so?”
His mother furrowed her brows. “If she had allowed Tamarella to follow her heart—misguided as many think it was—my niece might not have killed herself.”
“Are you convinced it was suicide?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure. On the one hand, it’s easier to believe that Tamarella was responsible for her own death. If someone killed her, that someone should pay.”
“If she was murdered, who do you suspect?”
She shook her head. “No one. Tristan, while not madly in love with her, understood his role. With Tamarella dead, the Warnoms and the Stantons will never be as powerful as they could have been.”
Bevon did love a good mystery. It added spice to life. “Could someone else have wanted to marry Tristan and decided she needed Tamarella out of the way?”
“You’d have to ask Tristan.”
“No one is investigating this?”
“Not any more. One of our most powerful witches examined Tamarella. She said that Tam was weak from treniam and then died from blood loss from her slit wrists.”
That proved nothing. His cousin was part Fairy and shouldn’t be as susceptible to the deadly plant. He huffed out a breath. “If Tam spread the treniam on her body, don’t you think she’d be too weak to harm herself?”
His mom’s mouth opened. “I don’t know. That is an excellent point. It’s possible that she slit her wrists and then wanted to quicken her death by rubbing her arms with that plant.”
“Did anyone find the plant next to her?” Even if she’d disposed of it in the trash, someone would have seen it.
“We should ask my sister. Would you like me to come with you when you speak to her?”
He almost laughed, but the situation was anything but funny. “I’m quite capable of doing this. I’ll be back shortly.”
After he hugged his mother goodbye, Bevon teleported over to his aunt and uncle’s estate. He knocked, because teleporting into their home might be too disruptive. It didn’t matter that when he and Kenton were kids, they used to do it all the time.
One of the staff answered. “Master Bevon. Come in.”
He entered, not sure how to approach the delicate subject of their house guest. The safest tactic would be to speak with his aunt. “Is Aunt Drina here?”
“Yes, sir.”
He could have telepathed to her, but this approach seemed better.
A few seconds later, his aunt appeared. “Bevon! This is such a nice surprise. Come into the living room. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” He followed her inside and sat on the sofa next to her. “I wanted to see how you were holding up.”
She clasped his hands. “Doing the best I can, but you didn’t have to come all this way to check up on me.”
“I know, but I wanted to. Mother said the case is closed?”
“Yes. They’re ruling it a suicide.”
Was that because it was easier or because it was the truth? “What do you think?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t believe Tamarella would kill herself. She called your name right before she died. Do you know why?
”
His pulse shot up. “My name? No. I hadn’t even spoken with Tamarella for months.”
“That’s odd.”
“It is. I know that Tam had treniam in her system. Did anyone find the plant discarded anywhere?”
His aunt looked confused. “No, and they should have. I’ll ask the staff.”
The killer probably took it with him. “Before you do, Tally told me a friend of Tamarella’s is here. Maybe she knows more,” he said.
“I don’t think so. Anna didn’t even know that Tamarella had died.”
Bevon was very curious how this Anna made it into the realm without passing through his portal, but that was a question he needed to ask her. “Would it be okay for me to speak with Anna? I might be able to piece some things together. She might know why Tam called out my name.”
“Of course. She’s in the backyard, I believe.”
Bevon wasn’t sure it was particularly wise to let a stranger have the run of the house, but it was not his place to say. “Thank you. I’ll check.” He stood, leaned over, and kissed his aunt’s cheek.
Bevon teleported to the back of the house where he spotted a woman near the edge of the property who seemed fascinated with the flowers. His pulse raced. It was her!
It wasn’t until he was within ten feet of her that she spun around, and the look on her face was one of recognition. Gotcha! Let’s see how she explains this deception.
Chapter Seven
Zulema had been so engrossed in the beauty of the flowers that she hadn’t sensed another person’s presence until a moment ago when her senses shot to high alert. She spun around. It didn’t matter if she’d been trained to show no surprise, her body betrayed her big time. Her face flushed, and she was sure her eyes flashed purple.
It was Bevon Forrester. For one second, she wished she could create her crossbow out of thin air, but then she realized after speaking with Tamarella’s mother, as well as her handmaiden, something was off. Even the dying girl’s last word didn’t necessarily implicate Bevon as her killer. It was possible, she wanted to warn him—of what Zulema had no idea. Or was she wishing Bevon was innocent so she wouldn’t have to kill him—assuming she could?
Decision time. Should she pretend as if she’d never seen him before or be honest? From the lack of surprise on his face, he knew exactly who she was.
Being honest—at least about her identity—might be for the best. “Bevon, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
One brow rose. “Me? I’m a Fey, and my parents rule here. I think it is you who owes me an explanation as to why you are here.” For once, his cute cockiness wasn’t present.
Think!
“A while back, Tamarella asked me to visit her. I was out of town and only just received the message. You can imagine how shocked I was to find she’d died.”
“Is that so?” He chuckled.
Nothing was funny about what she’d said. “Yes.”
“Tell me this. What color hair did my cousin have?”
Oh, shit. That was one piece of information Derrick Valoric had forgotten to include, which she found particularly odd. He should have included a photo of the woman he was supposed to have loved.
Zulema had three choices. Since his cousin’s mother had blonde hair, as did Bevon, she went with that. “Blonde.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, honey. You lose.” He stepped closer. “Tell me why you’re really here. Fay claims you’re out to harm me.” He held up a hand. “Not that you could, but I am curious why you think you are capable of taking a Fey’s life?”
Zulema had one goal: to keep her mother and sister safe. To do that, she feared she’d have to kill an innocent man, but even if she had a handful of treniam, she didn’t believe she had it in her to use it.
“Fine. I’m here on a mission.”
He crossed his arms and smiled. “Is that so? Describe this mission.”
There was a bench off to the side. “Mind if we sit?” she asked. “This could take a while.”
“By all means, just as long as you can prove you don’t have a stash of treniam on you.”
She patted both of her two pockets to show they were empty. “I don’t.”
He motioned they sit. When Bevon sat next to her, her skin caught fire. Sure, the guy was super hot, but it shouldn’t have been enough to unnerve her this much. Maybe it was the air here that was throwing off her senses.
“Tell me. And don’t lie.”
This was going to be very hard. “I am from Tarradon. My job there is that of a bodyguard.”
He didn’t flinch. “I had an acquaintance check you out. He learned that. Thank you for being honest.”
Shit. Did he know about Derrick Valoric? If the Zon was mated to his cousin, he might. “Two days ago, I was kidnapped.”
Bevon’s cheer immediately evaporated. “Were you hurt?”
“Not really.” She explained about her meeting with the virtual Valoric. “He told me that I have two weeks to kill you, or he’ll kill my very sick mother and my only sister.”
He nearly choked. “Why me?”
“Your cousin’s mate is convinced you murdered her.”
His mouth opened. “I wasn’t even on the realm at the time of her death.”
“That wasn’t what I’d heard.”
He leaned back. “Tell me what you know.”
She explained how Betina, the handmaiden, heard Tamarella yell. “There seemed to have been some kind of commotion. When she arrived, no one was there, but Tamarella was bleeding to death.”
“I agree that I could have teleported to her room, but if I’d touched the treniam, I, too, would have become deathly ill.”
“I thought of that, but you could have worn gloves.”
“I’ll give you that,” he said. “Was this treniam found next to the body?”
“Not that I know of.”
“If no one found any, then I might think the killer was not a Fey. It also implies my cousin didn’t commit suicide.”
Zulema liked his logic, but it wasn’t without its flaws. “This non-Fey would have to have been rather savvy to even find this poisonous plant. It doesn’t seem to grow wild around here.”
“For good reason,” he said. “You won’t find any in this area.”
Maybe it was good that she hadn’t been counting on locating it without help. “My father was a warlock—a powerful one—and as such, I inherited his ability to teleport. From what I’ve seen, very few non-Fey can.”
“That’s true, which narrows down our field. That being said, I know of four women in Avonbelle who can teleport—ah, make that five women. They aren’t Feys, Fairies, or your standard witch. However, they only do good.”
Intriguing. “What do you plan to do now?” she asked.
“I, for one, do not like that someone is trying to frame me for something I clearly didn’t do. However, I understand your dilemma. If I don’t die, your mother and sister will.”
“Exactly.”
He leaned closer, and it was almost as if he was able to hypnotize her with his eyes. “What do you say we work together?”
She blurted out a laugh. “Work together? Doing what?”
“If Derrick wants to know who killed Tamarella, we need to find this killer. It should be quite obvious that I can ask as many questions as I’d like and not raise suspicion. You were here for a few hours, and my sister contacted me to say our family had a new visitor. In other words, you aren’t invisible. And that should scare you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I did not kill Tamarella, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t commit suicide. That means the killer is still out there. He or she doesn’t need you snooping.”
Her blood pressure spiked. “You do have a point.”
“I know.”
“Did Fay tell you that I was here?” Did she frequently travel between realms?
“No, it was Tally, another one of my sisters, but Fay clearly warned her of your dangerous intent.”
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His family was more connected than she’d first believed, but it didn’t mean they knew everything. “We can’t just point a finger at the guilty party. Derrick will demand to see a dead body.”
“Fine. We’ll figure out who killed my cousin and give him that person to do with as he chooses.”
“Will this guilty party be alive or dead?”
“Alive.”
Bevon was naïve. “This person would have to confess to the crime, or Derrick won’t believe you.”
“You’re right. What do you propose?”
“I’m not sure. I do know that Derrick—or rather the Zon, which is the organization he is associated with—says he will know if and when you are dead, so I can’t just tell him I killed you.”
“Did he mention if he wants me dead because he has a vendetta against me, or does he believe I really did kill my own cousin?”
“That I don’t know. Have you interacted with Derrick before?”
“I’ve met him once, but things were cordial between us. It’s possible he’s upset that my family has money, and his might not.”
That was a stretch. “What about the safety of my family? This Derrick person might not believe I am doing enough to kill you. He gave me two weeks, but who is to say he won’t kill one of them to let me know that he means business.”
He sat there for a minute, looking out over the vast estate. “I say, we nab your family and teleport them here, where they will be safe.”
“That won’t work,” she said.
“Why not?”
“My mother is very ill. The trip could kill her.”
He faced Zulema. “If we don’t remove her from harm, Derrick might kill her anyway. Besides, teleporting only takes seconds. Did you feel anything when you went through the portal?”
It had only lasted a second or two. “No.”
“See? I’ll personally see to her safety.”
She stared at him. He was too good to be true, which meant he wasn’t. This had to be some kind of trap. “Why are you being so nice?”
Bevon laughed. “Really? I like life. A lot. I also don’t want to have to look over my shoulder all the time. Killing me is hard, but hurting me isn’t. I do bleed like everyone else.”