by Vella Day
“Ms. Garcia. How nice to see you again.”
The man was full of shit. “Why is that?”
“To thank you, of course, for doing what I asked.”
Relief filled her, but it was hard to shutter her revulsion for this man. “I did.”
He motioned they take a seat. Once on the sofa, Bevon grabbed her hand, clearly wanting to establish he was a dear and protective boyfriend.
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your companion. In fact, I wasn’t aware you had a mate.”
At least she didn’t have to lie this time. “You never asked. Perhaps you need to punish those who provide you with faulty information.”
He smiled, but it was anything but sincere. “I guess I shall. I trust you are here to demand the release of your sister and friend?”
She swallowed her anger. “It’s hardly a demand. More like collecting on a promise.”
He leaned back in his seat. “I will in due time.”
What a fuck. Of course, he wouldn’t just release her family. She was good at her job, and no doubt he’d demand more from her. It would never end unless she and Bevon did something.
Bevon squeezed her hand. “Zulema told me about your deal.”
“I’m surprised. Most people don’t like to admit they are assassins.”
“Be that as it may, while Zulema didn’t seem to mind killing someone who might have been innocent…”
Derrick’s eyes widened. “Innocent? That’s a laugh. I was told in no uncertain terms that a man by the name of Bevon Forrester killed my mate.”
“In no uncertain terms? What exactly did that mean?” Bevon asked, his voice sharp.
Derrick pulled out a desk drawer and retrieved a piece of paper. “The man my Tamarella was to join with told me who killed her. Here’s the proof.”
He handed the note to Bevon who read it out loud. “I know who killed Tam. It was Bevon Forrester. Signed Tristan.” Bevon whistled. “I guess that proves it.” He gave the paper back to Derrick. “You’re certain this Tristan person didn’t lie? Maybe he killed her.”
Derrick shook his head. “I’ve met Tristan. He and I had an understanding. While he might have been her mate in public, Tam and I would be mates in the truest sense.”
The grief in his voice was real. Too bad he’d been misinformed.
“Did Tristan himself deliver the message?” Zulema asked, knowing full well he hadn’t.
“No, some kid brought it here.”
“A kid?” Bevon asked.
“Yes, why?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said. “When I visited Feyrion—thanks to the medallion you gave me—I too spoke with Tristan. Not that I didn’t believe Bevon wasn’t guilty, but I’m the thorough type.”
“I know,” Derrick said. “It was one reason why we picked you.”
We? That implied the Zon organization had a hand in this. “Tristan said he asked an older man, by the name of William, to deliver a note to you.”
“I wouldn’t know about that. What did Tristan say the note contained?”
“It merely stated that Tamarella had died. He never said who he thought had killed her. Everyone had been led to believe she committed suicide.” She almost smiled when his face paled.
“That’s a lie,” Derrick said. “You read the note. It said Forrester killed Tam.”
“Why would Tristan lie?” she asked, trying not to defend Bevon.
“I don’t know. I was under the impression that he wanted this union as it would strengthen his family’s coffers. I guess I misjudged Tristan.”
“Perhaps someone else killed her,” she said.
“That may be, but who? I haven’t been to Feyrion in a while. Maybe you can find out for me. Yes, that’s it. You’ve done an excellent job so far.”
She barked out a laugh. “I killed Bevon for you—an innocent man. That should be enough.”
It wasn’t as if he didn’t have other assassins at his beck and call. Hadn’t he hired the man to shoot an arrow into Bevon’s back?
Valoric dragged a hand down his cleanly shaven face. “I’m sure you don’t think much of me, but I don’t kill people on a whim. I wanted revenge against the person who murdered the woman I loved. If what you say is true, the killer is still out there.”
“It’s not my concern.”
Bevon stood. “We are done here. Release Zulema’s sister and friend. Now.”
She loved the authority in his voice, but she doubted Derrick cared.
“And if I don’t? What will you do?” Derrick asked with annoying arrogance.
Chapter Twenty-One
Derrick’s question was a good one. What would Bevon do if Valoric didn’t return Zulema’s family? Bevon had to respond as if he were an ordinary human, even though that was a concept he was unfamiliar with.
What he wanted to do was strangle this man, retrieve Maylora and Aislin, and return to his peaceful life with Zulema by his side. The problem with that was that he, too, didn’t kill indiscriminately. Most likely, if he harmed Derrick Valoric, the Zon would come after Zulema and kill her this time.
“We’ll tell everyone what and who you are,” Bevon said. He almost laughed at his weak threat.
Derrick’s brows rose. “Is that so? I’d like to see how far you get with that. The authorities would throw your girlfriend in jail for murdering Bevon Forrester.”
Bevon wasn’t about to say that couldn’t happen, because there was no body. “I have an idea.”
Derrick tilted his head. “Oh, this should be rich. Tell me.”
“Take me as prisoner instead of Aislin and Maylora.”
“Why would I do that? I’ve dampened their powers, not that I know if Aislin even has any.”
Zulema took a step forward. “Because this man means more to me than anyone.” She looked over at him. “I love Brock.”
What Bevon wouldn’t give to hear her say that using his name instead. “What do you say, Valoric?”
“Let me think about it.”
That would give Bevon time to find the real messenger, though he had a feeling the man did not end up in a good place. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s give this man some space.”
She pulled out her medallion. “I assume you want this back?”
Derrick held up a hand. “Not yet. Knowing your curious mind, you might be tempted to find the person who really killed Tamarella. Do that and I will be in your debt. Contact me when you learn something.”
Bevon hoped she wouldn’t laugh in Valoric’s face. “In the meantime, what about my family?” she asked.
“I will treat them like I would my own sisters.”
He doubted that. “Let’s go, Zulema.”
The same bodyguard escorted them out. As tempted as Bevon was to teleport, he had to remember he had no powers. But Zulema did. “How about we go back to your place?”
“Why not your cabin?” she asked once the bodyguard returned inside.
“Derrick might be monitoring us. In theory, you were at my cabin to seduce me before you killed me. There would be no reason for you to return.”
She tapped her temple. “I like a man with a clear head. I’m still thinking about my sister and friend, I guess.”
She grabbed a hold of him and teleported them back to her place, landing in the middle of her living room. Zulema inhaled. “It’s stuffy in here.”
Bevon waved a hand and infused fresh air along with the scent of frenlan.
Zulema grinned. “That is incredible.”
He loved that her eyes grew wide. Bevon brushed his chest with his knuckles like he’d seen some on Earth do. “Aw, shucks, darlin’. It was nothing.”
She laughed. “You sound so…”
“Earthly?”
“Yes.”
“Let me ask my sisters to come here.” He glanced downward and then nodded. “They’ll be here in—”
Before he could finish his sentence, both Meena and Fay appeared. “How did it go?” Meena as
ked.
“About as well as could be expected,” he said. “Valoric didn’t have any idea who I was, so that part was good.”
“Bevon offered to trade himself for my sister and Aislin.”
Meena looked distraught, but Fay was her usual stoic self. “Since you are here, brother, I’m assuming he turned you down?” Fay asked.
“He’s thinking about it. Did you find out anything about William, the messenger?” he asked.
“His name is William Belchek from Grindale Province.”
Bevon waited for an address or whether he was alive, but Fay said nothing. Sometimes, he wanted to strangle her too. “Is he alive?”
She looked over at Meena. “We think so.”
“Can you find out?” Zulema asked.
“There are some things we can’t do. I suggest you use conventional methods to find him.”
“Can you tell me if Maylora and Aislin are still safe?” Zulema asked.
“We just saw them. They are good, but we’ll head back there now to make sure they remain well,” Fay said.
Then both of his sisters disappeared. “That was rather passive-aggressive, wasn’t it?” he commented.
She grabbed his hand. “Did I embarrass them?”
Bevon pulled her into his arms. “No. To this day, there are things about my family I don’t understand. Hell, I don’t think even they understand what they can and can’t do.” He tapped her nose. “Never fear, I have a plan.”
She smiled. “If you ever had a gravestone, which I know you’ll never have, it would say I have a plan.”
He cracked up. “I do adore you.”
She cupped his face. “And I you.”
“Is that so?”
Zulema pushed back on his chest. “We can’t keep getting distracted. We have to find William. I’m guessing he’ll be honest about whether Derrick or Tristan was telling the truth.”
“My money is on Tristan.”
“Mine too, though both might be. We know there is a killer on the loose. Tristan gave the letter to William, and yet a young boy delivered a different one. I’m thinking the killer wanted to give Derrick the wrong message, so he’d put a price on your head.”
Bevon stepped back. “You’re right.” Bevon paced a bit. “Instead of Derrick wanting me dead, it might be someone else. But who?”
“The killer isn’t powerful enough to go after you himself, so he thought if Derrick hired me, I could seduce you—and then kill you.”
“And you did. Bewitch me, that is.”
Zulema fought a smile. “We need to be serious. Who hates you that much?”
“No one. I’m loved by all.”
Her shoulders lowered as she let out a breath. “You need to take this seriously. Someone, who doesn’t want to be identified, needs you out of the way.”
He held up his hands, trying to figure it out in earnest. “There are people who try to enter Feyrion that I’ve turned down admittance.”
“Why don’t you want them in your realm?”
“Either they had no reason for entering, or they were from Feyrion originally but were banned due to committing some crime.”
“Do you keep a list of these people?”
He tapped his head. “I got it all up here.”
“Can you retrieve it from your vast memory?”
“Don’t mock.” It could take quite a while, but she probably didn’t want to hear that. “Our best bet right now might be to find William and ask him, assuming he is still alive. He might know who tried to stop him from delivering the letter to Derrick.”
“Good idea. How do we find him? Your sisters didn’t give you an address.”
“Tory’s cousin Logan can find anyone.”
She stepped forward, kissed him lightly, and moved back. “What are we waiting for?”
She was a sassy one. Bevon teleported them to Logan’s mining office. He wasn’t sure if Logan would be in, but he thought Zulema would like to see the Caspian Mining complex anyway.
Zulema grabbed his arm before he walked up to the front door. “Your friend won’t know it’s you.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot I look different. It should be easy enough to convince him. He knows who you are. Tell him who I really am.”
“Really? Why would he know me? I’ve never met the man,” she said.
“I might have mentioned you a time or two.”
“Really? Why?”
“Remember when Fay first mentioned your name, she thought you were out to harm me?”
Zulema nodded. “And she was right.”
“I asked Logan to check you out.”
“I remember now. That’s when you learned I was an expert with the crossbow and a protector of my family.”
“Right.” He smiled. “Let’s give it our best shot. Okay?”
“Okay.”
The woman at the reception desk asked for their names. Bevon decided to go with Brock Rickart. “I’m a good friend of Kenton Forrester.”
The receptionist smiled. “Let me see if Mr. Caspian is free.” After she contacted him, she stood. “Follow me.”
“I’ve been there before,” Bevon said.
The woman’s brows pinched. “Then go on back.”
Bevon knocked on Logan’s door and stepped inside. He placed a hand on Zulema’s back and squeezed, indicating she should go first.
She held out her hand. “I’m Zulema Garcia. Bevon said that you would know who I am.”
“Briefly. Have a seat.”
“I know it is hard to believe because he looks different, but this is really Bevon Forrester.”
He chuckled. “Why should I believe you?”
Bevon reminded him of the time his brother had to give Tory a piece of his inner light in order to save her. “If you recall, after he erased her memory, he told you never to tell her.”
Logan’s mouth opened and then quickly shut. “I’ll be damned. Tory mentioned that you were going undercover so that the man who asked Zulema to kill you thought you were dead, but…this?”
Bevon turned his head to the side. “You don’t like the new me?”
“No. I hope you can switch back.”
“I will when this mess is over.”
“What do you need me to do?” Logan asked.
He was happy his friend believed him. “I need you to find a William Belchek.” Bevon explained why.
Logan looked up at them. “From what you’ve said, he might be dead.”
“I hope not, but if he is, can you see if his body was picked up by the police and taken to the morgue?”
“You could just call Anderson Caspian.”
That was his cousin who was a detective at the Avonbelle Provincial Police Department. “If you can’t find William, I will do that.”
He supposed he and Zulema could go to town and grab something to eat, but he thought he’d give Tory’s cousin a few minutes. In the past, Logan was able to produce miracles quickly.
Less than it would have taken to drink a cup of coffee, Logan leaned back and smiled. The printer shot to life. He grabbed the sheet from the feed. “Here is the address. I even added a map to his location.”
Zulema looked over at Bevon and then shot a glance to Logan. “You are amazing. Bevon wasn’t exaggerating about your talents.”
“I try.”
Bevon pushed back his chair and stood. He could have teleported from there, but since Logan couldn’t teleport, it would be a little rude. Bevon stuck out his hand. “Always a pleasure.”
“Thank you.”
He and Zulema left and then teleported to the street where William lived.
“What exactly are you going to ask him?” Zulema questioned.
“I want to establish that he had a message from Tristan to deliver.”
“Will you say you’re a detective or something?”
“That seems like the best idea.” Bevon knocked, but no one answered. “Wait here for a second.”
Bevon teleported inside and looked arou
nd. The home didn’t look as if anyone had been there in a while, mostly because the furniture was covered in sheets. Bevon returned to Zulema. “He’s not home.” He explained about the covered furniture.
“Maybe one of his neighbors knows if he has any relatives close by. He could be staying with one of them,” Zulema said.
He liked that she was able to come up with an alternative solution. “Sounds good.”
As they walked next door, a woman came out of the house, wearing a coat, and dangling a set of keys in her hand.
“Excuse me,” Bevon called.
“Yes?”
He explained that they were looking for William Belchek. “I’m a friend and have been worried about him.”
“I would check with his sister.”
Yes! “Do you have an address?”
“I think so. Give me a second.” She went inside, and a few minutes later she returned carrying a piece of paper. “Here is the address.”
“Thank you.”
Not wanting to freak out the neighbor by suddenly disappearing into thin air, they walked down the street, pretending as if they had parked on a side street. When Zulema spotted the neighbor drive by, they teleported close to where the sister lived.
The neighborhood was a lot nicer than the one where William lived. Though if he spent most of his time in Feyrion, it made sense not to spend money on a fancy house.
Bevon knocked, and an older woman answered. “Yes?”
“I’m a friend of your brother’s. I need to speak with him. Is he here?”
“Who are you?”
He inhaled. She had to know about Feyrion. “I’m…Kenton Forrester.” Bevon didn’t look all that much like Kenton even when he had his original face, but she probably wouldn’t know that. Now, the two of them were not even close, but if she knew anything about Feyrion, she’d recognize that name.
Her eyes widened, and then she did what looked like a little curtsy. “Come in.” They stepped inside. “I’m afraid William was in an accident. He’s in bed at the moment.”
“What kind of accident?”
Footsteps sounded, and a rather haggard looking man dressed in pajamas padded out. “Who are you?”
It was William. “May we speak? It’s about Tristan’s note that he gave you to deliver.”