Ugh, men. I’d reached my limit for flattery and petty jealousy. Apparently, I had one. Who knew? But with Derrick’s all-too-quick revenge making my skin tingle, I was suddenly surly. What I needed was a glass of wine and a good spell book. Everyone else could go count frogs.
“One of my potions calls for belladonna root. It’s impossible to find, but if anyone knows where I can get it, it’s you.”
Charlie smirked at my appeal to his vanity. “That’s a slightly more dangerous aphrodisiac. Too much, and you wind up dead.”
I winked. “Then let’s hope I get the dose right. Where can we get some?”
“This time of year, I’d say nowhere. But as it happens, I’ve heard of someone who deals. The name will cost you, and it’s all I got. More phantom than anything else. Tracking it down will be up to you.”
Derrick withdrew a sum of money and placed it on the counter. Charlie made a quick count, then flashed his teeth.
“That’s it? I don’t take less than fifty.”
I coughed, face flaming.
“Oh, really? That sounds familiar.” Derrick narrowed his eyes. “Take it or leave it.”
“Derrick,” I hissed. Now wasn’t the time to see who had the bigger…negotiating skills.
His arm tightened around me as the ultimatum hung in the charged silence. Charlie rolled his tongue over his teeth, then snorted.
“Fine.” He pocketed the coins. “You’re looking for Ironhazel. That’s all I know.”
The name wasn’t familiar. “Thanks, Charlie.”
“Anytime, my love.” He nudged the vial of blue liquid toward me while Derrick wrote the name in his notebook. “My gift to you.”
Discreetly, I snapped up the vial. Never turn away free potions. It was a witch’s creed, also good business sense. We moved away from Charlie’s stall.
“Was that necessary?”
Derrick shrugged. “It felt good.”
“Well, as long as it felt good.” Fisting my hands on my hips, I asked, “Where to next? Want to see a dragon’s egg encased in amber? They’re that way.” I pointed deeper into the market.
“Dragons aren’t real. It’s probably a painted goose egg they placed in amber so you can’t tell the difference.”
“Aren’t you a killjoy. Even if it’s fake, it’s still interesting.”
“We shouldn’t hang around this place longer than needed. It’s asking for trouble. We got what we came for. Actually, we got more than we came for. Hand it over.”
“Hand what over?” I danced out of his reach as he tried to capture my gloved fist.
“Tessa, I’m warning you.” He sidestepped a vendor juggling illuminated marbles and stalked closer.
“But it was a gift! Like the gloves. You can’t take away gifts, it’s rude.”
“Rude? So is lying about how many times you’ve come here. One time, huh?” He feinted left and went right. I fell for it and stumbled into him, holding my hand in the air as if it didn’t make my fist level with his forehead. Lowering in defeat, I unfurled my fingers. The blue vial rested in my palm.
“Fine, take it.” Some of my surliness slipped through, and I snapped, “A coldhearted detective like yourself needs it more than I do, anyway.”
“Coldhearted?” His features hardened. He snatched the vial and backed us up until my shoulders bumped a wooden post, caging me in with his body. “Is that what you think?”
Um…no. There was nothing cold about the look in his eyes; it left a trail of heat across my skin. I squared my shoulders, trapped between him and the post, and tried to regain the upper hand.
“What was that back there? You shouldn’t have pretended we were together in front of Charlie. It wasn’t fair.”
“Do witches play fair?”
“No, but we’re witches. It comes with the name. You’re a detective.” My fingers curled in the lapels of his tweed jacket, tugging him closer. “You’re honorable, reserved.” He went motionless beneath my hands, and I pressed myself closer still, molding against him. “A man of virtue.” His breath grew harsh as we stared each other down, and I stood on my toes to whisper in his ear, “Don’t stoop to my level, Detective.”
With sober features, he slipped the vial into his pocket. “Don’t underestimate me, Tessa. And stop lying. If you lie to me again, we’re through. I mean it.” He grazed a knuckle under my chin. “Whatever it is. I can handle it.”
Chapter 15
A few days later, I woke to the sound of pounding on my front door. Shading my eyes from the sun peeking through the curtains, I smiled. Another early wake up call from Derrick? What should I have him make me for breakfast this morning? Did I dare try for a poached egg? Rolling to my feet, I padded to the mirror and checked my appearance. Not terrible.
Instead of a ratty mess, my dark curls had a freshly tousled look. Combing the long strands forward, I hurried to the wardrobe and pulled on a wine-colored dress. The pounding sounded again, and I yelled over my shoulder, “Just a minute.”
I flew down the stairs and came to an abrupt halt on the last step. Sylvia Trager peered through the window pane. She rapped her cane against the glass.
“Hurry up, dear. It’s freezing out here.”
The smile slipped from my face, and I felt a pang of disappointment. What was wrong with me? I’d been acting smitten for days, taking extra time with my appearance, grinning like a fool when we stopped for lunch—a regular occurrence now—and soaking up those moments when I’d catch Derrick watching me with a gaze that made my heart pound. Anyone who knew me would shake their head in pity. Even I would shake my head in pity and then burn some sage to clear the air of secondhand embarrassment.
Sylvia barged inside and smacked me with a rolled newsprint. “You sly girl! After all that nonsense you spouted about not being interested in marriage. No wonder you didn’t attend the ball. I want details. And tea. Get me tea.”
“Sylvia, what are you talking about?” I swung the kettle over the coals and stoked them back to life.
“I’m talking about the Ever Gazette.” She tapped the newspaper with her bony finger.
“That’s a gossip rag. More society pages than news. Didn’t I tell you to stop reading it?”
She made a shushing sound and waved me away. “There’s truth in every rumor, and I want the truth from you about this.” The paper crinkled as she flattened it against the table.
Funny, she wasn’t the only one demanding my honesty these days. Derrick’s ultimatum rang in my ears. Tell the truth, or else.
“The truth about what?”
“The front page! Take a look for yourself.”
Apprehension made me approach the paper like it was a snake in the grass. When I got close enough, my stomach dropped. A hand-drawn image of me standing under the eaves of the apothecary shop covered the front page. But I wasn’t alone. The moment had seemed innocent at the time, but the way the artist captured it told a different story. Derrick stood in front of me, his hands closed around mine, our heads bent together as if we were sharing an intimate secret. The headline made it worse.
Agency’s Famed Detective Has Fallen Under A Witch’s Spell.
I jabbed the illustration. “It wasn’t like that. We were—”
“Canoodling?”
“We were not!” Heat flushed my cheeks. At least, not there. Give us a couple of hours and a stroll through the black market, and then, yeah. Good thing the artist hadn’t witnessed that exchange. “Detective Chambers and I are working together to solve Ella Lockwood’s murder. This is taken completely out of context!”
Sylvia winked. “His expression says differently, my dear. A man hasn’t looked at me that way in ages.”
“They drew him like that to sell papers. It’s gossip fodder, nothing more.”
“Gossip or not, it’s a fantastic likeness. You’ll get more customers from this. Everyone reads the Gazette.”
Which meant everyone would know about my association with Derrick, and it wouldn’t take any eff
ort to discover my role in the case. I worried my lip between my teeth. Public curiosity was one thing, but the scrutiny could become a problem. Crossing to the fireplace, I removed the kettle and banked the coals.
“Sorry, Sylvia. I have to go to town. There’s no time for tea.”
“Are you going to visit your detective?”
“He’s not my detective.” I retrieved my cloak and ushered Sylvia out the door.
She paused on the landing. “I want to meet the man. Bring him by for a meal. Fuzzlebottoms and I will judge whether you two are a good match.”
“No way, Sylvia. You and your cat aren’t getting involved.”
“But I already promised Fuzzy! You know how much he enjoys the company. His tail gets all fluffy.”
Unbelievable. This was my life now, catering to a nosy neighbor and her dreaded cat while wading through the quicksand that was my partnership with Derrick. Tack on murder with a side of haunting, and a permanent vacation from the kingdom was starting to sound like a good idea.
“I’ll think about it.” I guided Sylvia down the walkway and set her in the direction of her house.
“Wonderful! What’s his favorite meal?”
“Rosemary chicken and glazed potatoes.”
Sylvia narrowed her eyes. “That’s your favorite, dear.”
“Well, what do you know? It’s kismet.” There was no way I’d submit Derrick to Sylvia’s meddling, but maybe, if I was lucky, I’d get a home-cooked meal out of the lie.
She sniffed the air and made a face before trudging back to her cottage. Derrick would be furious. He hadn’t wanted me around to begin with, and now, I was more involved than before. Steeling myself for his lecture, I headed into town.
***
The agency was busier than ever. Publicity from the paper had people standing around the entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed detective cavorting with the local witch. I ducked down a side street and peered around the corner. So far, no one had spotted me, and I wanted to keep it that way.
Scooting further down the alley and away from the onlookers, I noticed someone break away from the crowd to follow behind. The urge to run vibrated in me. I’d need to go in through the side entrance since the last thing I wanted was to conduct interviews on the street. I scrambled backward and collided into a stack of crates, which crashed to the ground, taking me with them.
The man caught up and hovered over me, offering his hand. I sucked in a breath and rolled, trying to get out from beneath the crates. It was him. The man I’d found hiding in the hedges at the crime scene.
“Stay back!” Adrenaline boiled my magic. I needed to regain some control before I could harness it. “I saw you at the palace.” The words slipped bravely from my mouth, an accusation I feared might do more harm than good.
He took a step in my direction, flexing his gloved fingers. His face was all angles and sharp lines with deep-set brown eyes. He was younger than I’d thought, with thin lips pressed into a determined crease.
“Don’t come any closer. I’m a witch. I’ll turn you into a toad.” Probably. Hopefully. My lips trembled. I didn’t want to die in an alley, a hundred feet from the royal agency. It wouldn’t look good. I could see the headline now: Famed Detective’s Paramour Found Dead Steps From Help. Her Spells Couldn’t Save Her. Detective Swears to Never Love Again. The last part, I added for my own benefit. I would be the dead party after all, so I should be mourned properly and with devotion.
The man’s deep voice captured my attention. “I won’t hurt you.”
“No. I wouldn’t advise that, unless you want to eat flies and live the rest of your days in a swamp.”
He shook his head, and the hint of a smile curved his mouth. Great. My threats were funny to him.
“I just want to talk.”
“You could have made an appointment.”
“Will you at least listen to what I have to say? I won’t come closer.”
I gave him a curt nod and climbed to my feet. “Why were you hiding behind the hedge at the crime scene? And why did you threaten to come find me?”
“It wasn’t a threat. I didn’t know if I could trust the authorities, but you’re not one of them. My story might be safer with you.”
“Why can’t you trust the authorities?”
A dry laugh escaped his lips. “They work for the royal family. Their loyalty is with the king. Anything that puts the royal family in a bad light may be ignored. I could disappear.”
He had a point. “Who are you?”
“My name is Liam Barber. I was one of the servants assigned to the prince the night of the ball.”
“I see.” I relaxed, and the fear drained from my muscles. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I need your promise that you won’t tell anyone you spoke with me.” His gaze darted to the end of the alley, where the crowd mingled out of earshot.
“I’ll keep your identity a secret. You have my word.”
“What about your friend, Detective Chambers? I saw the papers.”
“You can trust him.” It was strange, but when I said the words, I believed them wholeheartedly. “Tell me what you know, and we’ll protect your name.”
Liam came within a few feet of me and lowered his voice. “The prince’s alibi is fake. Regardless of what anyone told you, at the time of the murder, the prince wasn’t in the ballroom.”
Shock made me silent for a few seconds while I processed his words. “How do you know?”
“Shortly before midnight, he traded masks with me. He’s done it before at masquerade balls. I was the one who danced with Ella. She whispered something to me. She wanted me to meet her alone in the courtyard.”
“Did you?”
“Of course not. I stayed in the ballroom, that’s why everyone thinks he has an alibi. He returned through a side door after midnight. We traded back. Minutes later, they found her body.”
The prince was lying. Where had he gone during the narrow window of Ella’s murder? And if he had killed her, what was the motive? Not to mention, the motive for the other two women, one of whom had worked in a tavern and had likely never crossed paths with a prince in her life.
“I have to go. They’ll question me if I’m gone too long. I don’t know anything else, but I couldn’t keep quiet after what happened to that poor girl.”
“Thank you for coming forward.”
He nodded and backed away, leaving me alone in the alley. I had to tell Derrick. This changed the course of our investigation.
The prince might be our killer.
Chapter 16
“I’ll let him know you’re here.” Estelle gave me a sympathetic smile as her gaze shifted between me and the newspaper sitting on her desk. After hearing Liam’s witness account, I’d almost forgotten about the baseless article. Her look didn’t bode well for Derrick’s mood. It might be a veiled warning to turn around and high-tail it out of the kingdom. You couldn’t kill a witch you couldn’t find.
What a mess. First, the cozy picture and headline in the Gazette, and then, my encounter with Liam. I didn’t know what to address first. Maybe the new lead would soothe Derrick’s ire. It certainly cast the case in a new light—a dangerous one if the prince was somehow involved.
Estelle returned to her desk and gave me a serene smile. It seemed practiced, the kind you give someone who’s about to enter a lion’s den and you’re trying not to make them panic.
“Detective Chambers will see you in his office.”
I chewed on my lip, unease making my feet leaden. “How is he?”
She glanced around the waiting room discreetly, then leaned forward. “Between you and me, dear? Run.”
Her words took a second to arrange in my head. Oh, boy. It was worse than I thought. My nerves doubled, but there was also a prick of disappointment. Was it really so bad? I had qualities. Lots of them! Derrick would be lucky to end up with a woman like me. I mean, lucky was pushing it—I did have a mountain of debt, a rundown shop, an
d my spells were dismal. But beyond all that, I was a total catch. He just needed time to come to that conclusion on his own.
I backed away from the desk. “Tell him I left the kettle on.” We could talk later.
“Good one, dear.”
Halfway through my escape, his clipped voice echoed through the waiting room. Even the criminals ceased their grumbling.
“Miss Daniels, my office is this way.”
Damn. The exit was so close. Should I make a run for it? Maybe Estelle had the right idea.
Turning, I tried one of her serene smiles, but it wobbled in the face of his grim features. Couldn’t he smile a little at his fake paramour? Love could move mountains but apparently not the corners of his lips.
“Detective, you didn’t need to come and get me. I know the way to your office.”
He lifted a brow. “Apparently not. Follow me.” Derrick propelled me into the hallway that was suspiciously empty considering the time of day. He lowered his voice. “I knew you’d chicken out.”
“I didn’t chicken anything. I left the kettle on at the magic shop. If the place burns down, it’s on your head. I’ll expect reparations.”
His throaty laugh surprised me. Wasn’t he furious? I found myself grinning in response.
“You’re something else, Tessa.”
We paused in front of his office door, and I placed my hand on his sleeve, feeling the warm expanse of skin beneath the fabric.
“About the paper, I was as shocked as you. This wasn’t my intention. They made it seem like I was trying to ensnare you in a love spell. It’s absurd.”
“So, you’re not then?” His gaze dropped to my leather gloves—the gift he’d given me. I probably shouldn’t have worn them.
I tucked my hands behind my back. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need a spell for that. You should know, I have my share of suitors.”
Something dangerous glinted behind his eyes. “Name one.”
Naturally, he’d call my bluff. I fumbled for a name, going all the way back to my childhood to find the only boy brave enough to follow around a budding witch. Too bad I hadn’t seen him in years.
Spellbound After Midnight (Ever Dark, Ever Deadly Book 1) Page 13
