by Vella Day
His sister rushed up to him. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
“When I heard that Kenton was here, I had to see him. Only this isn’t Kenton Forrester.”
Well shit.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It wasn’t right that Bevon was forced to lie on her account. “We’re sorry we deceived you. As you stated, he’s not Kenton,” Zulema said. “We had to make sure you knew who Kenton was before we could tell you something important.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Zulema Garcia. I worked—against my will, mind you—for Derrick Valoric.” When neither William nor Bevon said anything, she rushed on. “He forced me to kill Bevon Forrester.”
“You were the one who killed him?” William asked. She nodded. “Get out of my house.”
Okay, that wasn’t the response she was looking for, but it indicated he was loyal to Bevon’s family. Zulema placed her bracelet on her chest. “How do you want to handle this?” she telepathed.
Bevon held out a hand. “I know I look different, but I really am Bevon Forrester. Zulema didn’t kill me. In fact, she couldn’t if she wanted to.”
His brows pinched. “Prove you are him.”
Bevon disappeared. He then reappeared. “I’m really a Fey.”
“A lot of Fey’s can teleport. Hell, so can I.”
“What would you like to know?” Bevon asked.
“Who is the queen?”
Anyone who’d been to Feyrion could have answered that. “Queen Arianna.”
“What is Tristan’s family name?” William asked.
“Stanton. Convinced?”
“Let’s sit down.” He sounded weak, as if someone had stuck a pin in his balloon.
Bevon moved to his side and helped him to a large comfortable looking chair. “Do you want some water?” Bevon asked.
“That would be nice.”
Bevon magically created a glass of water, and when he handed it to William, his eyes grew wide. “Mr. Stanton often mentioned how you and your family had many powers. I’m just a servant. I’ve not seen magic like that.”
Zulema was impressed that Bevon and his family didn’t go around the realm showing off their powers. “Mr. Valoric told me to kill Bevon—which obviously I didn’t—because he received a note from Tristan saying that Bevon had killed Tamarella.”
“No, no. That’s not what the note said.”
Her pulse spiked.
“What did it say?” Bevon asked.
“That Tamarella had died. That’s all. There was no mention of Bevon.”
“You mean me.”
He didn’t answer. It was just as well if he didn’t believe this truly was Bevon. “Did you deliver the message to Mr. Valoric?” she asked.
He lifted his hand to the back of his head. “I tried, but someone attacked me. When I woke up, I was in a hospital.”
His sister came over. “We nearly lost William. The doctors aren’t sure what the person used to bash in his head, but my brother ended up with a large gash, along with a serious concussion.”
“The headache was the worst of it. I don’t know how I’m going to face Mr. Stanton. I failed as a messenger.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him it wasn’t your fault,” Bevon said.
While Zulema was sad the man had been harmed, they needed to know who had harmed him. “Did you see who hit you?”
“Yes, but I didn’t recognize him.”
“Can you describe him?” Zulema asked.
“Young, tall, strong. The usual thug.”
Bevon leaned forward. “May I try something? It won’t hurt.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’d like to see if I can retrieve that memory. It didn’t happen very long ago, so this technique might work.”
“If you think it will help.”
Bevon knelt down next to William’s chair, placed his fingertips on the man’s temples, and then closed his eyes. Was he really trying to see into the guy’s head? That seemed impossible. Though if the queen could heal Zulema’s mother in a short period of time, his family seemed capable of the impossible.
Bevon let go and stood. “I know what the man looks like. I’m not sure how much that will help though. Do you know anything about the Zon?”
“Just what Mr. Stanton warned me about.”
“Did Tristan say that Mr. Valoric was a member of this group of warlocks and witches?” Bevon asked.
“He did.” He held up a hand. “I swear I was careful. I drove to Mr. Valoric’s house, checking to see if anyone followed me. Just as I got out of my car, I was attacked.”
“Did you tell anyone you were going there?” Zulema asked.
“No.”
“You told me when you came through the portal where you were going,” Bevon said.
“Yes, of course, but no one else. Once I arrived on Tarradon, I teleported to my house for a few minutes to make sure the place was still standing. I called my sister to let her know I had arrived safely, and then I drove to Valoric’s house. I don’t like to teleport on this realm—except when I’m certain no one will notice.”
Zulema nodded. “I understand completely. I’m the same way.”
“You’re a Fey, too?”
“No, but I’m a witch with powers.” And a dragon shifter, but she saw no reason to mention that.
Bevon moved back to the sofa. “I wonder how they knew you even had a message from Tristan.”
His sister sucked in a breath and moved into the line of sight. “I am so, so, sorry William.”
“What did you do?” Instead of being accusatory, his tone was filled with sadness.
“A man came here a few days before you returned. He said he wanted to hire you for a job and asked that if you ever returned to Tarradon—even for a short time—that I should let him know.”
“What kind of job?” her brother asked.
“Delivery. It’s what you do.”
“Did the man give any specifics? Was it to deliver a letter or a package?” Bevon asked.
“No. All he said was once you arrived, I should call him.”
“Do you have that number?” Zulema asked.
“I think so.” She rushed to get her phone and then did a search. “I have it.”
It was probably a throw away phone, but maybe Logan could learn something. “Can you write down the number?”
The sister handed her the information. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
The brother reached out and clasped her hand. “I know you didn’t. It was an honest mistake.”
Zulema faced William. “How would anyone on Tarradon know you were going to deliver a message from Mr. Stanton to Mr. Valoric?” This implied a mole of some sort.
“I have no idea.”
“How often do you come back here?” Zulema asked.
William looked up at his sister. “Maybe four times a year, but it’s random.”
“To visit or to do work?” she asked.
“A little of both. Mr. Stanton has communicated with Mr. Valoric for a few months now.”
Bevon stood. “Thank you for talking to us, but please don’t let anyone know I really am alive. That person might take out his revenge on Zulema and her family.”
“I promise,” William’s sister said.
“Never,” William added. “Once I heal, I’m heading back to Feyrion. It’s a lot safer there.”
“Very true,” Bevon said. “Don’t worry. Zulema and I will deal with the man who injured you.
She wondered exactly what that meant. They thanked both of them for their help and teleported about a mile away.
“What did you think?” she asked.
“About whether I believed them?”
“I guess. Why didn’t Derrick say that Tristan’s usual messenger didn’t arrive?”
“That is an excellent question, princess. We’ll need to ask him. Something isn’t right about any of this.”
“I agree.”
“I would say we should march back to Derrick’s home and demand answers, but I need some time to think. Are you hungry?” Bevon asked.
“Not particularly, but I wouldn’t mind a strong cup of coffee.”
“It will probably be safer to find a place outside of Avonbelle Province, where no one knows us.”
She liked that idea. “How about I fly us and head east? If we spot a nice town, I’ll land, and we can check it out.”
“I love it.”
He’d not seen Zulema in her dragon form and was anxious to view her in all of her splendor. They teleported to a field where she shifted. Oh my, she was glorious. He’d never seen a purple dragon before. Even her form and size took his breath away.
Zulema held out her claw, and Bevon grabbed hold. It had been a very long time since he’d flown with a dragon. His usual method of transportation was teleporting.
Zulema soared upward, and the sensation of movement—which he didn’t experience when teleporting—was thrilling. The landscape fell away beneath them the higher she went. Bevon hadn’t realized what he’d been missing all these years. It might even be time to buy a car and drive around to see the beautiful countryside.
Heat from her body balanced the drop in air temperature, and it wasn’t long before they spotted a town. Zulema found a field in which to land and began her descent. Darn. When this was over, he’d have to ask her to do this more often.
When she set him down, Bevon’s heart continued to race. She stepped back and shifted. He must have looked strange, because she rushed up to him.
“Are you all right?”
“All right? Yes. Yes. That was amazing.”
“You haven’t flown before?”
She acted as if that was impossible. “Not in a long time and not with you.”
His mate stepped closer and cupped his cheek. “That is so sweet.” She stood on her toes, and when she kissed him, her stomach grumbled.
As much as he didn’t want to break the kiss, he didn’t need a hungry woman on his hands. “I think I promised you a meal—or just coffee if that is all you want.”
“Thank you. While I would love to have you create another bubble to make us invisible so we can make love in the open air, we have work to do.”
He smiled. “Spoilsport.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you later.”
Bevon grinned, grabbed her hand, and teleported them to a back alley. From there, they cut between two buildings to the main strip. He looked around. “Seems like we have a few choices.”
“Let’s explore.”
It didn’t take long before they decided on a seafood place. The inside was rather dark, but that was fine by him. “May we have a booth in back?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Once the hostess seated them, he laid out his plan. “We have to find the man who harmed William.”
“You don’t think he’s the killer, do you?”
“No,” Bevon said. “Someone would have paid him to knock out William and switch the notes.”
“Did you recognize the paper the note was written on?” she asked.
Zulema was sharp. “Yes, which makes me believe this mystery man took the note, copied it somehow, and then changed the wording.”
“Is that possible?”
“You should know. We’re dealing with warlocks and witches, but I will demonstrate.” Bevon picked up a napkin and swiped his hand to create one that looked just like it. Instead of having the logo of the restaurant on it, he changed it to say Zulema and Bevon. That might have been a bit tacky, since it looked like some human wedding invitation, but he had a point to prove. “Voilá.”
She studied it. “That is incredible.” Zulema leaned closer. “Do you think a Fey or a Fairy is involved?”
That hadn’t entered his mind. “Now that you mention it, it’s possible a disgraced Fey could be in the Zon.”
“William said that not all Feys are equally powerful.”
“He’s right. We are not all equal. My family has more power than anyone in the realm, because our magic has been passed down for thousands of years.”
“I had no idea.”
He enjoyed her inquisitive mind. Just as he was about to comment further, their server came over. “Want some wine?” he asked Zulema.
“I think I’ll stick to coffee for now.”
“Me, too,” Bevon said.
He picked up the menu and studied it. Bevon didn’t really care what he ate, so he picked a random fish special. “To answer your question about William, all Feys can teleport. Some can make things appear and disappear—like my clothes and the dirty dishes—and some can heal to a limited degree.”
“But they wouldn’t stand a chance against you in a fight, right?”
“No, they wouldn’t. And the average Fey is not immortal.” He held up a hand. “That being said, I suppose if a Fey mated with a witch or warlock, their powers would probably combine.”
“Good to know what we’re up against.”
Their server returned, and they ordered. Zulema only asked for a salad. “Your rumbling stomach implied you were hungry.”
“I was, but I lost my appetite.”
Bevon decided not to push. “Here’s my plan. I know what William’s attacker looks like. I’ll have Logan’s cousin, Detective Anderson Caspian, fix me up with a sketch artist. If Anderson can distribute it in the Province, we might get a hit.”
“I like that, but you can’t draw it?”
He leaned back in his seat. “Princess, I am many things with many talents, but an artist, I am not.”
She smiled for the first time in several hours, which did his heart good. “How long do you think that will take?” she asked.
“I’m hoping not long.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
After they finished their meal, Bevon and Zulema teleported to the Avonbelle Province Police station, but Detective Caspian was not there. Not one to give up, Bevon called Logan and asked if his cousin could meet them. “It’s important. And can you explain that I don’t look like my usual self.”
Logan chuckled. “Can do.”
They didn’t have to wait at the station for long before the detective arrived. Since Anderson had never met Zulema nor did he recognize Bevon, introductions were needed.
“Anderson, I’m Bevon,” he said in a low tone. “I know my face looks different, but there is a reason. Could we go someplace private?”
“Of course. Logan vouched for you. Come this way.”
“Thank you. This is Zulema Garcia, by the way. She’s part of the reason I’m here.”
Edendale was far from where Derrick Valoric resided, but hopefully, even a sketch of William’s attacker would help. They entered a small conference room and sat down. “Logan didn’t give me much background information.”
Bevon started with the death of his cousin on Feyrion. Normally, he wouldn’t have told just any detective about this hidden realm, but Anderson Caspian was part of the Guardian family. He just chose to help in a different way from most of the other Guardians. “Because Tamarella’s mate was given false information about who had killed her, Derrick Valoric hired—or rather forced—Zulema to kill me.”
Anderson looked over at her. “You couldn’t go through with it, I see.”
“No, but even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have killed him.”
“What do you need from me?” Anderson asked.
“The original messenger was beaten and left for dead. His letter was altered, resulting in Zulema being sent to take me out. I know what this attacker looks like and would like a sketch artist to help.”
“I can provide you with one. Anything else?”
“I’m hoping you can give me a name and an address once the sketch is complete.” Bevon smiled.
“I’ll try.” Anderson excused himself.
A minute later, a young man with a computer tablet in hand entered the room. “Shall we begin?”
The process was rather
intriguing. Bevon wished he could have swiped a hand and stolen the image from his brain, but it wasn’t one of his talents. About thirty minutes later, the artist had come up with a very good likeness. “Excellent work,” Bevon said.
The young man barely smiled. “I’ll print this off for you and drop it off at Detective Caspian’s desk.”
Once Bevon received the print out, Anderson scanned the face. “If he has a record anywhere in the province, it should show up.” They didn’t have to wait long. “We have a match.”
“You have a name?”
“Rusty Gerard.”
“That’s great,” Bevon said. “Do you have an address?”
Anderson smiled. “Why, yes I do.”
This was their lucky day. After they thanked Anderson profusely, he and Zulema returned to a slightly different part of the province. Unfortunately, the resident thug was not at home.
“What do you want to do?” Zulema asked.
“Normally, I’d suggest we wait here until he returns, but I’m thinking we’d make better headway back to Derrick’s house. He lied about not knowing William. What else is he lying about?”
“I don’t think he hired Gerard to harm William. Derrick seemed sincere in not knowing that the letter was a forgery.”
“I agree, but I will enjoy seeing him squirm,” Bevon said.
His mate smiled. “So will I.”
Once they were out of view of the good citizens of Edendale, they teleported to Derrick’s home. The moment they appeared, however, a sense of foreboding came over Bevon. “Something’s not right.”
She looked around. “Like what?”
“For starters, the front door is ajar.”
“Oh, shit.”
They both jogged up to the front, Bevon’s senses on high alert. Only a faint sound came from inside. When he pushed open the door, he was met with an obstruction. It was a leg on the ground. With more force, Bevon opened it enough for them to enter. “Derrick’s bodyguard.”
Blood was pooled around the man’s head, presumably from the large gash across his throat.
“That’s not good,” she said. “I hear something coming from down the hall.”
Bevon cloaked himself and then grabbed Zulema’s arm to shield her too. He then teleported to Derrick’s office. Fuck. As soon as he sensed no one else was there, he reappeared.