Making a note, I studied Liam’s lifeless form. My knees felt watery, but I held my ground. Blood saturated his shirt near the wound and seeped into the grass. He lay on his back, limbs covered partially in leaves. As acid rose in my throat, I closed my eyes, unable to stare at his lifeless face. Air passed heavily through my lungs in short gasps.
“Tessa, are you okay?” Derrick touched my shoulder, his hand moving up to massage my neck. “I know it’s a lot. Maybe we should—”
I forced my eyes open and blinked away the dark spots. “Maybe there aren’t any defensive wounds because he was drugged, or maybe it was because he knew the killer. If it was someone he trusted, it’s possible he didn’t see it coming. Close range, one thrust to the chest, and it was over.”
Derrick studied me, respect gleaming in his eyes. “That makes sense. You’re good at this. I’ve seen some of the heartiest officers keel over in the dirt for less.”
His praise calmed the rest of my nerves. Estelle might have been right. Maybe I’d finally found something I was good at. Between ghosts, dead bodies, and threatening gifts, I’d certainly developed nerves of steel.
“I have an idea.” I dug into the leather satchel at my waist. “I brought supplies. A kit, actually. After we used the potion to determine Ella’s poison, I thought about how I could apply that sort of thing to other instances.”
Derrick narrowed his eyes. “Are you carrying around rosenphyn? You said it was a deadly substance.”
“Relax, Detective, I don’t plan on eating it. But maybe we can use it to test Liam’s blood? If he was poisoned, it might show up in his bloodstream. Think of the potential! I’m sure, given time, I can develop other potions that can do even more. Magic could become a new investigative tactic. What do you think?”
“I think we should try it, but not in the field. I’ll have Liam’s shirt preserved as evidence. You can perform your test back at the agency, in a controlled environment, where a rogue gust of wind won’t make your deadly powder airborne.”
I chewed the corner of my lip. “I see your point. I should pre-mix next time.” I made a note in the journal.
“Don’t write that down. That’s not what I meant.”
“Too late. Do you need my help with anything else? I should head to the agency with a sample and perform the test. The sooner we determine if poison was involved, the better. We need to get ahead of this.”
Derrick frowned. He looked a little hurt.
“You’re not going to question the witnesses with me?”
“I’m sure you can handle it. Besides, you have to speak with the king afterward. Let’s meet later. We’ll compare notes.” I packed away my kit, my mind already racing toward my next task.
***
The image of Liam’s lifeless body wouldn’t leave my mind no matter how hard I tried to push it away. The drive to prove myself useful had become an essential need. In light of his murder, I couldn’t sit through hours of idle questioning when my skills were better suited for running tests.
Moving light over the square of fabric from his shirt that I’d placed on the evidence table, I mixed the rosenphyn powder with other ingredients, then cast the spell. The liquid congealed, signaling it was ready to apply. With light strokes, I spread the substance over the stain. The metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils along with the earthy smell wafting from the mixture. Stomach churning, I placed a lavender-infused rag beneath my nose.
I knew I wasn’t directly responsible for Liam’s death, but it was hard to forget my involvement. Was this the sort of guilt Derrick lived with on a daily basis? The way he controlled his emotions and buried his feelings in order to do his job was admirable. It was one of the things I loved about him, the way he put other people first, protecting them any way he could, even at risk to himself. He could have continued to ignore me when the prince allowed me on the case, and given his history with frauds claiming to be witches, he had every reason to. I might still be sitting in some parlor detailing a guest’s every movement at the ball, but instead, he’d opened up, listened to my ideas, and even let me take the lead.
Derrick worried about me too. Usually, people were worried I’d screw up a spell or bring shame to my family name—which, let’s be honest, I often did—but they weren’t truly worried about me, only what I’d do next. Derrick wanted what was best for me, and I wanted the same for him. He’d faced trauma and lived with the effects every day. He needed someone who could lighten his moods and provide him comfort, and if ever there was a witch for the job...
My hand stilled over the vial of rosenphyn, cork stopper suspended in the air.
Did I love him?
No. I loved things about him. That was different. Derrick and I were polar opposites. When the case was settled, we’d go our separate ways.
I slumped in the chair. Returning to the magic shop to sell hair cream and wrinkle tonics made me want to throw up. It wasn’t enough. Somewhere along the way, I’d begun to hate the witch who ran a failing shop with no prospects and no plan, who went from one disaster to the next just to stay afloat. That was the girl my mother had shaken her head at in disappointment. This case had changed everything and given me a new sense of purpose. Derrick was proud of my contributions. I had a place here. I’d found something and someone who mattered to me, and I didn’t want to let either of them go.
With a groan, I glanced at the bloodstained fabric, hoping it had changed color and could distract me from my revealing thoughts. No such luck, which meant I needed something else to distract me instead. Good thing I was in a room full of evidence.
If Derrick was right, and our investigation had turned toward the prince, we’d need to find a connection between him and all three of the women. Ella’s connection was obvious: they’d attended the same ball. He even had a motive. The night by the fountain, he’d admitted his anger over being forced into marriage and the loss of control over his life. Would he kill to regain control? It was possible.
Sophie also had a connection with the prince. She’d been murdered during one of the king’s feasts. The prince would have been in attendance. It’s possible their paths had crossed. There wasn’t an obvious motive, but it was a start.
Jane was the only one who didn’t fit. Working as a barmaid, it was unlikely she’d visited the castle, and also unlikely that Prince Marcus had ever visited her establishment. Talk about polar opposites. It meant one of two things: either it wasn’t the prince at all, or we hadn’t found the right link.
I scooted the chair closer to Derrick’s worktable and dug out the box of items taken from Jane’s crime scene. There wasn’t much. An embroidered coin purse, two hair ribbons, a simple metal chain, and a worn, well-read book of poetry. The tokens of her life were the only witnesses to her crime, but they remained unforgiving in their silence. I thought about the contents in my own pockets and morbidly wondered what would be in them when I died. What story would they tell?
Starting with the book of poetry, I went through it, page by page. The ink was smudged in various places, but there were no notations or clues written inside. I moved on to the coin purse, smiling when I picked it up because it resembled one Vivian had given to me when we were kids. It was the same shape and had the same embroidered pattern. Vivian had found mine on a market stall and thought of me instantly. I’d been trying to sneak spells out of the house, and my mother had started to search my pockets. The coin purse was perfect because it had a hidden compartment.
I opened the purse to find it empty, but sure enough, there was a near-invisible sleeve in the side. Sliding my finger into the pocket, I located a slip of paper. It contained only a handwritten number and a stamped seal.
A chill settled in my stomach. The seal was familiar. I’d stared at it a hundred times, cursing my luck. How was this possible? I glanced at the fabric from Liam’s shirt and saw the bloodstain had changed color. Green. Liam had ingested belladonna root, same as Ella.
The slip of paper trembled in my hand. Argus wa
s searching for Ironhazel, and now, I had evidence from one of our victims containing his seal.
Jane had owed Argus money.
I needed to know why.
Chapter 23
“Are you insane?” Vivian hissed, trailing me down the steps of her shop. She grabbed the sleeve of my cloak and didn’t let go. “You’re going to visit Argus?”
“I need answers, Viv, and he has them. He knows Jane and happens to be looking for Ironhazel. That’s not a coincidence. What if he’s the key to unlocking this case?”
She twisted to block my path while still holding onto my sleeve. “Then take Derrick with you. You can’t run off to interrogate a criminal by yourself. I forbid it.”
“Derrick has been tied up at the palace all afternoon. This is too important. It can’t wait.”
Vivian scoffed. “You’re such a coward. You haven’t told Derrick the truth about your debt, and you’re afraid of how he’ll react, so, instead, you’re doing what you always do—which is, trying to solve everything by yourself. Do you think Derrick will be impressed if you come back with information? He’ll be furious.”
She had a point. Derrick’s rules were clear, no investigating alone, and I couldn’t deny his protective streak when it came to my safety. He would be furious.
“Look, you’re right. I haven’t told Derrick about Argus, and he deserves to know, but that’s irrelevant to this situation because here’s the truth. There is no way Argus is going to answer questions in front of a royal detective. My only chance is to talk to him one-on-one, and even that is a long shot.”
Vivian blew out a breath and looked up at the overcast sky. “It’s such a bad idea.”
“No, a bad idea would be to let this opportunity slip through my fingers. Derrick will never let me speak with Argus once I tell him about my debt, and Argus will never speak with Derrick. I have one shot. Think about Ella. What wouldn’t you do for one of your ghosts? You’re always charging around, going to abandoned haunted houses. Remember the time you fell through the rotten floor into the basement, and it took us two days to find you?”
She shuddered. “Something was living down there. I landed in its nest, and that’s why I’m coming with you to see Argus.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a finger.
“Not a peep. I’m coming with you. If he recruits us into his gang and ships us off to a foreign kingdom to become hardened female assassins, then at least you won’t be alone.
I swallowed a laugh. “Honestly, Viv, you have a colorful imagination.”
She shrugged. “I think I’d make an excellent female assassin. I have feminine wiles, my aim is decent, and I happen to think I’d look good in the outfit.”
“All good points. Except there’s one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll be haunted by all of your kills.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That is a problem. The life of an outlaw is tricky. Argus will have to assign me something else.”
Clenching my teeth, I pulled her along the street. “He’s not assigning us anything. We’re just going to talk.”
“Sounds like something his last female assassin said before he shipped her off.”
I groaned. Vivian adjusted her arm through mine so we were walking side-by-side, two ladies on a stroll to visit a gangster.
“So, how do we find him? Does he have a den of iniquity, or do we commit a crime and he pops up in a puff of smoke like a crooked genie?”
I slanted her a look out of the corner of my eye. “Very funny. Actually, I thought we’d ask them.” I pointed across the street at the two thugs leaning against a brick building. “They follow me around enough, they might as well be useful.”
The taller of the two ruffians straightened when he caught me looking and nudged his partner. I waved, wiggling my fingers. His partner waved back, which earned him an elbow in his ribs.
“Okay,” Vivian muttered under her breath. “I guess we walk up to street hooligans now and ask for directions.”
Thug Number One crossed his arms over his burly chest. His tree-trunk legs were spread apart, and he looked like a mountain of muscle encased in a pair of leather boots.
“You lost?” he growled.
“You could say that.” I wiped damp palms on my cloak and forced a smile. “I need to talk to your boss. Where can I find him?”
“He finds you, not the other way around.”
Vivian pinched my side. “See, it is the genie scenario.”
Thug Number Two frowned, the action pulling taut a scar bisecting his cheek. “Genie scenario?”
“Never mind. I need to speak with Argus now. I have the information he’s looking for. He won’t be happy when he finds out you’re standing in the way. He might even—”
“Chop off your fingers, bleach the bones, and use them as writing instruments.”
“Vivian, please!”
She cocked her head. “What? Too much?”
Thug Number One hooked his thumbs into his belt and rocked back on his heels. The mountain quaked as a laugh rumbled through his chest.
“All right, let’s go. I wouldn’t want to lose my fingers. Besides, I think the boss will like this one. Might even give me a raise.” He winked at Vivian, and she narrowed her eyes in disgust.
It took us almost an hour to reach our destination. The streets were congested, and we took every connecting alley available. Evening set in, darkening the sky and giving way to a blistering chill. The two thugs led us around the side of a tavern and held open the back door. A pungent tide of cooked meat and stale beer hit me in the face, causing my stomach to roll. Our shoes stuck to the dirty floor, making a suction sound as we traveled through the kitchen and past the door that led to the main part of the tavern.
Thug Number One sauntered down a narrow hallway barely the width of his massive shoulders. He rapped twice on a wooden door, and a panel slid open to reveal a pair of deep-set eyes.
“Is the boss in? I’ve got the witch and her friend insisting to see him.”
The panel slammed shut, and we stood awkwardly in the compact corridor. Vivian hooked her arm through mine, her lips tight. Some of her bravado had slipped now that we were a closed-door’s length away from seeing Argus in the flesh. No turning back now. My nerves raced, and a thin river of trepidation flowed through my veins. I was empty-handed except for the slip of paper that contained Jane’s seal.
“Let me do the talking,” I whispered, squeezing Vivian’s arm.
She nodded. “Fine by me, but Argus doesn’t scare me.”
The door swung open, and we were ushered along another hallway, tighter than the last. Then, after pushing us inside Argus’s lair, Thug Number One slammed the door behind us. His boots echoed as they faded down the hallway.
I squinted to see in the dim light. There were no windows, and the lanterns were turned low. We were met with a wave of heat from the fire crackling in the hearth.
“Did you bring my money, witch?”
The voice seemed disembodied, and I spun, trying to locate the sound. Argus leaned against the edge of a giant cabinet filled with crystal decanters. He lifted a glass to his lips, and ice clinked.
“I have until the end of the month.”
“So, this is a social visit? What a surprise. If I’d known, I would have laid out snacks. I guess we’ll have to make do with bourbon.” He swallowed a deep gulp of the amber liquid, then stalked closer, offering a second glass to Vivian. Challenge lurked in his eyes.
She eyed him warily before accepting the drink. Argus crooked his lips to watch her down it. Wiping a lingering drop from the corner of her mouth with a thumb, Vivian swallowed.
“Argus Ward.” He held out a hand. “The witch is terrible at introductions.”
“Vivian James.” She didn’t return his handshake, and he closed his fingers with a stony expression.
“You know, your friend doesn’t think too much of me. What about you? First impressions?”
/>
Vivian worried her bottom lip. Argus’s green gaze dipped to the spot, his knuckles tightening against the glass. She focused her eyes over his shoulder for a long moment, then returned his steady stare.
“I think you’re a haunted man.”
His arrogance slipped, and an odd look flashed across his face. When he spoke, there was a gruffness in his voice.
“Maybe I am. What should I do about it?”
Vivian glanced over his shoulder a second time and angled her head as if she were communicating with an invisible force. She leaned closer, and Argus went still.
“My consultations aren’t free.”
His bark of laughter broke the tension, and I exhaled in relief. Tipping his glass at Vivian, Argus rounded a large mahogany desk and settled into a high-backed chair, where he rested his chin in his hand and gestured to the seats in front of him.
“Ladies, please. Where are my manners?”
“First time I’ve seen any,” I muttered, arranging my skirt to take a seat.
Vivian did the same, then reached behind her neck to pull her long, glossy hair over her shoulder. Argus watched, transfixed. When I snapped my fingers to regain his attention, he reluctantly obeyed.
“If you aren’t here to deliver my money then I suspect it’s because you have information on Ironhazel. Does Detective Do-It-All know you’re here? Have you told him about us?”
I ground my teeth together, forcing my irritation down to a manageable level. “I’m here because I need answers, and you’re going to give them to me.”
He arched a brow. “I’m certainly interested to see you try.”
Reaching into my pocket, I removed the slip of paper that contained Argus’s seal and slid it across the desk. I tapped the inked mark.
“Do you recognize this?”
“Of course. You have one with your name on it. In fact, lots of people have them. I’m a busy man. What’s your point?”
Spellbound After Midnight (Ever Dark, Ever Deadly Book 1) Page 20
