Spiro was incredulous to the truthfulness in that statement. Someone must have seen something. Yes, it was a big house, pretentious even, but there were also thirty people roaming the halls at any given time.
Apparently, his skepticism showed in his expression, because Rissian pulled him to a stop and shook his head. “There’s no sign of forced entry or a struggle. Nothing in his room has been touched. Spiro…” He trailed off, and his eyes tightened at the corners. “He has the same blue lips and swollen esophagus Father had when he died.”
A groan rumbled through Spiro’s chest before he could stop it. He wasn’t insensitive to the death of his brother, but while Thalian was only a year younger than him, they’d never exactly been close. Actually, he hadn’t been close to any of his siblings other than Rissian. Perhaps it was because they were the only two who shared the same mother.
His closeness to Thalian wasn’t the point, though. Yes, he felt the pain of his brother’s untimely death, but the time to grieve would have to come later. As the unchallenged ruler of his race, it was Spiro’s duty to protect his people. Part of him—a part he would never let speak aloud—almost wished it had been foul play that had taken Thalian’s life. At least then he’d have something to fight against.
Following Rissian through the maze of corridors, he eventually found himself outside of Thalian’s room. “Has anyone told his mother?”
Though it wasn’t a law of his people, it was tradition for a king to take more than one wife, ensuring the best possible chance for multiple heirs. In his father’s case, the greedy bastard had taken only one wife—Spiro and Rissian’s mother—but there was never a lack of females parading through his bedroom. Four of those lucky women had birthed the other Araceli heirs.
Rissian dropped his head and rubbed at the back of his neck. “She lives on the mainland. Aradan went with one of the guards to find her.”
As the oldest, it should have been his duty to inform Thalian’s mother, but Spiro was just selfish enough to be glad that their youngest brother had taken on the obligation. As much as he’d like to return to his room and pretend like none of this had ever happened, he couldn’t do it. So with a bit of reluctance, he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and crossed the threshold into Thalian’s suite.
“Sir,” one of the guards greeted him, bowing his head in respect. “We’ll give you a minute.” With no further instruction, he jerked his head toward the doorway, indicating that the other three sentries should follow him. “We’ll be just outside the door.”
Spiro nodded his thanks, impressed with the young man. “What’s his name?” Gods, he’d been gone for too long. There had once been a time when he knew every man, woman, and child on the island.
“Uh, Nithron, I think.” Rissian stared at the closed door with a frown as though he could see through it to the other side. “I’m really not sure. He’s only been here for a couple of months.”
The information was important, but Spiro decided to file it away for later contemplation before he went accusing people of murder. Still, he couldn’t overlook the fact that his father’s sudden illness—and ultimately, death—coincided with Nithron’s arrival on the island.
As Rissian had said, nothing in the suite had been touched or in any way indicated that someone had entered without Thalian’s permission. There was a soda can on the coffee table, and a T-shirt was draped haphazardly over the arm of the sofa, but nothing else seemed to be out of place.
“Bedroom?” he asked.
“Bathroom,” Rissian replied with a wince. “I’ll warn you, Spiro. It’s not pretty.”
“I can handle it.” This wouldn’t be the first time he’d been in the presence of the deceased.
The minute he stepped into the bathroom and saw Thalian sprawled out in the empty bathtub, however, he immediately began to rethink his nonchalant approach to death. He also had to reconsider his suspicion of the guard’s involvement.
It wasn’t just Thalian’s throat that was swollen, but his entire face. His skin appeared sickly yellow, not the pallor of death, but the hue of disease. The bulging of his eyes was visible, even though someone had been thoughtful enough to lower his eyelids. Blue veins snaked across his face and down the side of his neck, matching the ghostly tint of his dry lips.
“What the hell could cause this?” Spiro murmured, more to himself than to Rissian.
“I don’t know,” Rissian whispered back.
Spiro detected a slight tremor in the softly spoken words. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or grief that put the hollow look in his brother’s eyes, but he imagined it was a mixture of both. While he and Rissian were part shifter, Thalian had been born of pure blood. Like shifters, elves were immune to disease, but they were also impervious to poisons, infections, and most types of magic.
He’d never seen anything like what they were now facing. Just from one observation, he couldn’t tell if it was magic or some mysterious plague. Whatever it was, though, whatever had the ability to ravish two immortals, it was wicked powerful, and Spiro didn’t even pretend to know how to fight it.
People were counting on him to make the important decisions, though. Everyone was depending on him to keep them safe. He knew what he had to do, but it wasn’t going to make him very popular.
Marching back out into the hallways, he faced off with Nithron, eyeing him speculatively before issuing his orders. The guard was alert, but not tense, and Spiro detected no scent of deceit or betrayal from him. “Quarantine the island. No one comes or goes until further notice.”
“What about Aradan?” Rissian demanded.
“When did he leave?”
“Twenty minutes before I knocked on your door.”
It was an hour drive to the boats, and with any luck, their youngest brother hadn’t made it that far yet. “Radio the guards and have them intercept him at the docks.” He turned back to the guards and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Please take Prince Thalian to the holding room in the infirmary.”
They’d have to bury Thalian without his mother present, but it couldn’t be helped. Until he figured out what was happening, he couldn’t risk spreading some unknown and deadly disease. Besides, he’d met the female on a few occasions, and as much as he hated to admit it, he doubted she’d be overly distraught about the loss of her son.
Spiro stepped aside to allow the guards to pass and nodded at Rissian. “Get Aradan back here and assemble the palace guards. We’ll meet at sundown.”
“Sure, but where are you going?”
Sighing heavily, Spiro ran his fingers through his long hair and grimaced. “To break the news to my mate that he won’t be going home anytime soon.”
Chapter Nine
Showered and dressed, Zuriel paced the common room of their suite, mumbling under his breath in agitation. He wasn’t selfish enough to begrudge Spiro the time with his family, but he didn’t appreciate being treated like a prisoner.
He wasn’t too proud to admit that Thalian’s death had him more than a little freaked out. After Spiro’s abrupt departure, Zuriel’s first instinct was to rush to his friends and tell them everything. However, his dear mate had made that impossible by stationing guards outside his door.
The minute he’d stepped out into the hall, he’d been ushered right back inside with no explanation other than Spiro had ordered his confinement. Likely, it was a safety precaution until they had more information, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy being treated like a child. He wasn’t stupid. He understood the risk and possible danger, but he was just going next door. As far as he could see, there was no reason the sentries couldn’t guard him in Mihail’s room.
“Lirimaer?”
Spinning on the ball of his foot, Zuriel pointed a finger at his mate, intending to give Spiro a piece of his mind. The instant their eyes met, however, all of his irritation drained away, and he rushed forward to throw his arms around his lover. “What happened?”
Spiro petted his hair and kissed the top of h
is head. “I don’t know, baby. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Do you think someone hurt him?”
“It doesn’t look like it, but as I said, I really don’t know for sure.”
A morbid sense of curiosity infiltrated his thoughts, but Zuriel understood it wasn’t the appropriate time for such inquiries. “I’m sorry, Spiro.” At the rate his family was dying, there wouldn’t be any of them left by summer. Again, he decided to keep that little remark to himself.
“I’m sorry, too.” Spiro contracted his arms, holding Zuriel closer. “I was a little paranoid when I left earlier. I’m sorry I locked you in here alone.” Leaning back, he slipped a finger under Zuriel’s chin and urged his head up. “Did you want to see your friends?”
It took all he had not to melt into a big pile of warm goo right there at his mate’s feet. Never in his entire life had he met someone who cared so much for him. His friends were great. His twin was even better. Yet, it wasn’t quite the same as with Spiro. The man went above and beyond to always give him what he needed—and even most things he just wanted.
“If they haven’t heard the news yet, I’m sure they will soon. What should I tell them?”
“There really isn’t anything to say right now, but…”
Zuriel didn’t like the way Spiro cleared his throat and looked away. In his experience, those types of expressions usually accompanied bad news. “Just tell me.”
“I’ve quarantined the island.” When he turned back to Zuriel, Spiro’s gaze held a hint of apology. “I’m afraid we can’t leave until I know for sure this is an isolated incident.”
The answer only fueled his interest in knowing exactly what had happened to the prince. This wasn’t about him, though, and he was pretty sure he’d eventually hear the details through the grapevine anyway.
He wasn’t the best at being supportive. Oh, he tried to be a good friend, brother, and mate. There were lots of times when he wanted to listen to the worries of those he cared about and find some way to help. Unfortunately, his brain just didn’t function that way. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just tended to get distracted somewhere in the middle of the conversation.
As always, things were different with Spiro. He was different—better somehow. “What can I do?” There was a storm of emotions brewing in his lover’s eyes, and an overwhelming need to erase the haunted expression filled Zuriel until he practically vibrated with it. “Tell me what I can do.”
“Apparently, family tragedy has stifled the mating heat for now.” A tiny smile tilted one corner of Spiro’s mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is it really important to you?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t explain why, but he needed to be useful, even if it was simply offering comfort to his mate.
“Okay.” Spiro nodded firmly. “I need you to find the others and take them next door to Mihail’s room. If they know what’s going on, they’re probably scared right now.”
Zuriel could agree with that. He’d been pretty terrified himself. “I can do that. What then?”
“I need you to explain about the quarantine, and that we’re doing everything we can to find out what caused Thalian’s death.” Spiro stepped back and brought one of Zuriel’s hands to his mouth to brush a kiss over the knuckles. “I’m going to the infirmary to speak with the doctor. While I’m gone, I want you to stay in Mihail’s room and make sure no one leaves, not even Jacobi.”
A breathy chuckle escaped him at the last part of that order. If anyone would try to make a prison break, it would definitely be Jacobi. “Anything else?”
“That’s it. Just try to keep everyone calm until I have something more concrete to tell them.”
Pushing up on his toes, Zuriel kissed Spiro’s lips and bobbed his head in understanding. “I’ll see you later then. You know where I am if you need me.”
“I always need you.”
“Yep, melting goo,” Zuriel mumbled under his breath. He was already to the door and turning the handle when it finally dawned on him what Spiro had just done. The man had given him exactly what he wanted—time with his friends—and had turned it into a responsibility so that he wouldn’t feel bad about it.
“Problem?” Spiro asked.
Zuriel shook his head and snorted as he exited the room. “Well played, Dr. Araceli. Well played indeed.”
A dozen steps down the hall took him right to Mihail’s door, and he gave the dark wood a perfunctory knock before turning the handle and stepping into the room. “Mihail?”
“Come in,” Mihail called back from the corner of the common space. “We’re all here.”
It wasn’t surprising to find all of his friends pacing the room and conversing in low tones. Had he not been trapped in his own suite, Zuriel would have been right there with them the minute Spiro had left.
As soon as the door was closed, everyone converged on him, firing off questions faster than he could answer them.
“What happened?”
“What’s going on?”
“Is Prince Thalian really dead?”
“Hold on, guys.” Zuriel threw his hands up and stumbled backward to avoid being trampled. “Can I at least get inside before you jump me like a Las Vegas hooker?”
“Sorry,” Jacobi said with a flippant twist of his wrist. “Now spill. What do you know? No one will tell us anything.” He’d reverted to his short, spikey locks in his signature neon pink color, and he tugged at the ends of his hair as he spoke.
“That’s because no one knows. Spiro is in the infirmary talking to the doctor, and the island has been quarantined.”
“Quarantined?” Nikola gasped, lifting a hand to his mouth. “It’s a disease? Oh, crap, are we going to die?” His eyes rounded, and he backed away from Zuriel as though he was some kind of venomous beast.
“No one else is sick. It’s just a precaution.” Zuriel’s temples throbbed, and his shoulders tensed. Obviously, he wasn’t suited to this leadership role, because he’d just started, and he was already tired of explaining things. “Guys, seriously, just calm down.” Hell, he was scared, too, but falling apart wasn’t going to change anything.
“How is Spiro?” Aspen was the only one in the room who hadn’t rushed him upon his arrival. The demon was curled up in the corner of the sofa with a subtle, almost dazed smile on his lips. When he asked about Zuriel’s mate, however, there was sincerity in his voice, and concern in his eyes.
Zuriel envied the guy’s calmness. It seemed that nothing ever affected Aspen. Hell, the whole world could fall down around him, and he’d likely still be skipping through the fucking daisies. However, his genuine concern for others above himself was admirable.
“He’s worried.” It wasn’t obvious, but he was getting better at reading his lover’s moods. “I think Thalian died just like Spiro’s dad.”
“I’m no expert, but I have a hard time believing this is some kind of plague.” Mihail was definitely the most logical of the group, and when he spoke, most people were inclined to listen. Zuriel was certainly interested in what he had to say.
He hadn’t personally seen the body, but he’d caught a glimpse from Rissian’s thoughts, and he highly doubted a person could have done that. “Why do you say that?”
“Even if the king and the prince died of the same cause, they weren’t sick at the same time. Plus, no one else is sick. I saw Thalian just last night, and he looked perfectly healthy to me.”
“Right,” Nikola agreed, finally relaxing his defensive posture. “I saw him, too. He was with that one guard.”
“Wait. Which guard?” Zuriel had only met a few of them, but he’d caught something about a guard in Spiro’s thoughts.
Nikola’s brow furrowed, and his nose crinkled. “I don’t know his name, but I don’t think he’s even part elf. He’s a lot bigger than the other sentries.” He held his hands apart in measurement. “Broader in the shoulders, ya know?”
“Oh,” Jacobi cooed. “I’ll have to make his acquaintance very soon.�
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And everyone thinks I’m the slut. “Yes, you do that.” Chasing after hot men had been a fun pastime, but Zuriel was finding he was much happier being a one-man kind of guy. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t try to murder you in your sleep.”
Jacobi smirked and rocked his hips suggestively. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
He was barely paying attention anymore, though. A stray thought—a completely absurd idea—was swirling around in his head. “We could find some answers.”
If this was an attack of some sort, it was clearly aimed at members of the royal family. Zuriel wasn’t a fighter, but he’d be damned if he’d sit back and twiddle his thumbs while someone was plotting to kill his mate.
“I like where this is going.” A mischievous grin stretched across Jacobi’s face. “I always wanted to be a private dick.”
The guy was completely incorrigible, but Zuriel liked that about him. A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing Jacobi’s bed, either. In fact, he’d practically thrown himself at the shifter. Hell, he’d attempted to seduce anyone with two legs and a dick. He wasn’t proud of it, but playing the whore was much easier than wallowing in self-hatred.
Then Spiro had blown into his life like the cool breeze from a storm and swept him away. No matter how hard he’d fought against it, his mate had refused to let him self-destruct, had refused to allow him to hide behind his mask of outrageous behavior.
In essence, Spiro had saved him. The least he could do was return the favor.
Rubbing his hands together, he rolled his shoulders back and lifted both eyebrows. “Okay, where do we start?”
* * * *
The meeting in the infirmary had garnered zero results. The doctor was just as perplexed as everyone else, proclaiming that she’d never seen anything like it before. However, she had promised to conduct a slew of tests and get back to him quickly. Her lack of knowledge on the situation was troubling, but Spiro couldn’t say he was surprised.
The pretty female was married to one of the sentries, which was the reason she’d come to the island in the first place. It wasn’t often that the paranormals required her services, but she was good with wounds and injuries. Plus, there were several human mates on the island, and it was much more convenient—not to mention safer—to have a doctor nearby rather than travel to the mainland.
Jaded [The Moonlight Breed 9] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 8
