Agent of Enchantment (Dark Fae FBI Book 1)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Investigation? You stole the spleen to find the killer?”

  “Why else?” he asked.

  Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe not. The police used autopsies as a tool to catch killers. Maybe the fae had similar methods. “Why would you care about someone killing humans?”

  Roan’s jaw tightened. “That’s not important right now. I asked you a question, Cassandra. How the fuck did you get here?”

  “You have your methods of transportation, and I have mine.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes for just a moment. “It was stupid of you to come here. Your frail body could easily break here, as I would assume you’ve gathered by now.”

  “The merry band of rapists and the heart-stealing did tip me off that this might not be a vacation for me.” I didn’t suppose I could just tell him I was going to take him back to the station for questioning and expect him to follow.

  “I need to get you dressed in something more suitable, so you won’t attract attention.” His lip curled. “And that perfume—”

  “It’s not perfume,” I snapped. “It’s gasoline.”

  “I don’t know why you’d mask your natural scent that way.”

  “I didn’t choose—look, forget it.” I shook my head in frustration. My mind was digesting what I had seen so far. My assumption that the killer was likely to be Roan—because of his large body and inhuman strength—was premature. Clearly, many of the fae were larger than humans, and most were faster and stronger as well. It was true that Roan showed a strange fascination for the murders, but that didn’t make him the killer. And he had just saved me, which gave him some bonus Cassandra points. Not that I was ruling him out.

  Whoever was killing in London, I’d followed him here, and he might still be in the main hall. I needed to take another look before getting back to London to update Gabriel. I’d found my way in easily enough by jumping into a reflection, and I could leave the same way.

  “Okay,” I said. “Thanks, and all that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving through the main hall…”

  He blocked my way. “No.”

  I tensed. “No?”

  “If you walk away from me, you will die.”

  Okay, maybe he was the killer after all. I revoked his Cassandra points. “So that’s it? Do as you say, or you’ll kill me?”

  “No. Every other fae in the city will try to kill you.”

  I cocked a hip. “What do you mean?”

  “Your body gives off an aura. That’s why these people chased you down the hall. We can feel you. If you’re standing close to me, my own powerful aura will mask it. But you need to get out of those foul clothes, because you don’t for one moment look like you belong here.”

  “And into what?”

  He nodded at the auburn-haired woman on the floor. “Avelina’s a bit taller than you, but it will do. Take her dress and cloak.”

  “I can just take her cloak.”

  “No. Your clothes reek. By the time we get back to the party, there’s a good chance you’ll need to take the cloak off.”

  “Why would I—”

  “Enough questions.” His icy tone slid through my bones. “I can’t teach you the full complexity of the fae court as we stand here.”

  “Fine.” My jaw tightened. “You want me to just strip her?”

  “Do you know of a better way to take a dress from someone?”

  “It feels wrong.”

  “After what she was about to do to you? I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  I swallowed hard, crossing over to the woman. Despite Roan’s assurances, she looked properly dead to me.

  I knelt by the woman, untying the cloak from around her neck and pulling it off. Under the wool fabric, she wore the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen—a platinum tulle with darker gold stitching that curled up the front, and an amber belt around the waist. Apart from a few strategically placed gold vines, the entire thing was sheer. No wonder she’d been wearing a cloak.

  I turned her onto her stomach. As I unbuttoned the back, I exposed the woman’s milky skin. Gently, I pulled the dress off of her, taking care not to tear the delicate fabric. I left her on the ground, wearing only a tiny pair of gold underwear. I covered her half-naked body with the cloak again.

  I held up the dress, watching the candlelight flicker through it.

  Without me asking, Roan turned his back to me, his entire body tense.

  I was within two feet of a murder suspect, about to strip off my clothes. My gaze flicked to the torches. If I needed to kill him, maybe I could light his damn woolen cloak on fire.

  “Do you have to stand so close?” I asked.

  “I don’t like it any more than you do,” he said coldly. “But as I’ve already explained, I have to stay near you because of your aura.”

  Right. My so-called “aura.” I pulled off my shoulder bag and dropped it on the floor next to me. Dress or not, I wasn’t leaving that behind. It contained my last remaining possessions.

  I unzipped my black skirt. As I slipped it down over my bare thighs, I felt acutely aware of Roan’s body near mine. The cool air in the stone hall raised goosebumps on my skin.

  I pulled off my gasoline -soaked sweater and shirt, tossing them on the woman, too. Between the plunging neckline that would nearly reach my navel and the sheer fabric, I wouldn’t be able to wear a bra under the thing. Dammit. I never walked around without a bra. Still, I’d look like an idiot walking around with a black bra under a sheer gown. Unfortunately, the black underwear I wore would show right through the sheer fabric, but taking this woman’s gold panties was a bridge I wasn’t willing to cross.

  I unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then I stepped into the dress and pulled it up over my body, the delicate fabric sliding against my skin, and slipped my arms into the sleeves. It nearly fit, though it was several inches too long for me.

  I reached behind me for the buttons, straining my arms, but I couldn’t quite get them to connect. I cleared my throat. “Could you please button me from behind?”

  He turned around, smiling slyly. “Is that what they call it in your world?”

  I sighed. “Could you button my dress, please?” I turned, showing him my exposed back.

  He started at my tailbone, his fingers deftly working their way up my back. Each time his fingers brushed against my skin, I felt an electric thrill. I tried not to think of the fae-blood all over his hands.

  “There,” he said. “Let me see you.”

  I turned around to face him, strangely self-conscious.

  Slowly, his gaze roamed over my body, lingering between my legs. “That won’t do.”

  “What?” I snapped.

  “The black knickers. Normally I’d appreciate them, but here, they look ridiculous.”

  I frowned, then reached up my skirt, pulling them off. Despite being in a dress, I felt almost entirely exposed.

  His lips curled in a smile at the sight of me, and he took a step closer, as if mesmerized. “You look…”

  “What?”

  His smile faded. “Still human, unfortunately.” He scrubbed his hand over his mouth, thinking. After a moment, he reached out and stroked my hair. A strange sort of energy tingled over my skin, giving me a brief rush of euphoria.

  I swallowed hard.

  “You have your magic; I have mine.” He twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. He’d turned my tresses a pale shade of pink, the color of cotton candy.

  “Is it permanent?” I spluttered. I wasn’t a pink-hair sort of girl.

  “Not unless you want it to be.” His lip curled. “But we’re not quite done. You still reek of that perfume. I can change that.”

  Slowly, he reached for me again, this time tracing his fingertip from my neck down the plunging neckline of the dress, all the way to the center of my chest and navel. His touch on my bare skin left a trail of hot tingles over my body, and my pulse raced. I stared into his green eyes, entranced. And as he touched me, his brea
th seemed to speed up, too, his eyes glowing gold.

  As if snapping out of a spell, he dropped his finger and straightened. “You almost look like one of us. Now grab Avelina’s cloak and mask, and let’s go.”

  I picked up the cloak and wrapped it around my dress. The woman’s nearly naked body lay on the floor, completely defenseless. I quickly covered her as much as I could with my old clothing. Then I daintily removed the silver mask from her face. Without it, she seemed even more innocent and defenseless, and I had to remind myself that she was the one who’d led the mob.

  “Come on.” Roan’s low voice vibrated in the hallway.

  “Wait.” I snatched my bag from the ground. “I’m not leaving this behind.”

  “You can’t wear that into the hall.” He held out a hand. “I’ll carry it.”

  I tightened my grip on it. “I’m not giving up my bag.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  He sighed, pulling the emerald-studded cuff from his arm. “We’ll trade. This is worth more than whatever you’re carrying, I’m sure.”

  I slid it onto my wrist. Expensive—and reflective. After I investigated the fae hall again, this could be my exit route.

  Chapter 19

  As we drew closer to the large open-air hall, Roan motioned me to wait and peeked through the open doorway.

  “It is as I thought,” he muttered. “The gathering has changed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The Rix and the king’s guards have left. Most of the guests as well. Only the slave women remain, and none of them are wearing cloaks.”

  “The slave women don’t wear cloaks,” I repeated. “Let me guess. Everyone calls them whores.”

  “A trend the king started years ago.”

  I nodded slowly. “And that’s the man you called the Rix? Rix means king, doesn’t it? I saw him in there, wearing a gold crown.”

  “He isn’t the king. Not the High King. He’s more like an advisor.” He glanced at me. “Take off the cloak. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself.”

  He didn’t seem to notice the irony in his words. I removed the cloak from my shoulders and discarded it behind me.

  He leaned in close, whispering, “Whatever you do, stay close to me. My aura will mask yours.”

  Perhaps. I had no way of knowing if he was lying to me or not, but I’d play along for now. I looped my arm through his as we walked into the hall, breathing in his scent of musk and oak.

  This time, no one seemed to notice me. The few women left behind had shed their cloaks, revealing sheer gowns that showed off their breasts. Some danced with the men; others danced for the men, who leered at them.

  I scanned the thinned crowd, analyzing the behavior and comportment of the people around me, trying to mimic their posture and expressions.

  I tried not to fidget with my dress. Though Avelina’s ribcage and shoulders were similar in size to mine, her breasts must have been slightly smaller, because the dress looked a bit more obscene on me.

  “Come on,” he said. “We should leave.”

  “I want to stay just a bit longer.” I busily searched the crowd. He must be here.

  “Do you want to die?” he hissed. “We need to leave.”

  “Not yet,” I whispered back. It might have been a mistake to come here, but I was already learning valuable information. Clearly, fae males like to control their women, to assert themselves over female sexuality. They viewed women as dangerous temptations. I was quickly forming a mental profile of a killer who felt he needed to punish women for stepping out of line—he might go after women in dresses he thought were too short, or who walked around unchaperoned.

  And I still hadn’t ruled out Roan. I glanced at him. “Tell me about the change in the party.”

  “The king forbids dancing,” he whispered. “He has for centuries, since the Great Purge, when he forced the pixies out of the kingdom. But after his advisor left, some of the fae stayed to indulge themselves.”

  “And what do you think of these women who don’t wear cloaks?”

  He shrugged. “I appreciate the female form.”

  It was impossible to read his face. “And what about those five unconscious fae you left behind?” I whispered. “Will the High King learn about that?”

  “Even when they wake, they won’t say anything. The humiliation of pursuing someone like you would kill their reputation.”

  “You say the most flattering things.”

  The music had changed, becoming more sensual, and now a slow drumbeat pulsed through the room. Roan’s eyes locked on me. “You’ll need to dance with me if you want to remain here unnoticed.”

  “Fine.” Just a few more minutes, and then I’d mirror my way out of here.

  Roan took my hand, and the feel of his skin against mine sent a rush of pleasure through my body. He pulled me in close to him, and I put a hand on his shoulder. Not an easy feat, considering our height difference. His hand slid around my waist, and his warmth radiated through the thin fabric of my dress. We began to sway to the music, my body brushing against his. I watched Roan’s face as we moved around the dance floor, his intense eyes, the way the light shone off his golden horns.

  I became acutely aware of every inch of my body that brushed against his. I considered his claim about my “aura.” It was a convenient story, with the clear purpose of keeping me close to him at all times, in his control. It was time to test it. As he spun me around, I let myself drift a foot away from him. I twirled again, spinning away. And as I did, I felt the mood in the room shift, darkening. All eyes drifted to me. A man’s mouth fell open, a woman’s face twitched in interest and hunger…

  In another second, Roan was by my side again, slipping a powerful hand around my waist. “I told you not to do that,” he said. Heat from his body warmed my own. Around me, the faces were relaxing, confused eyes looking around, searching for something that was gone.

  “I don’t do everything I’m told.” I slid my arms around his neck. My heart pounded. It was true. These people could feel my aura, and somehow, Roan managed to hide it.

  I couldn’t stay here much longer. I decided to take one last look at the gathering and leave. Peering beyond Roan’s powerful arms, I scanned the room.

  “What are you looking for, woman?” he asked.

  “I’m looking,” I said, concentrating.

  “Looking for what?”

  “The killer.”

  He arched a dubious eyebrow. “Do you know what he looks like?”

  “Well… he’s a big man.”

  “Uh-huh,” Roan said dryly. “Almost everyone here is large, compared to humans. And they’re all wearing masks. I would have noticed if anyone acted out of the ordinary, which is more than you can say.”

  His patronizing manner was really getting on my nerves. “Really? What about those men and women behind me? Anything interesting about their behavior?”

  He glanced. “Not really. One of the women has very nice breasts. We should be going.”

  “In a minute. Turn me in a circle, then dip me low.”

  He began to turn me. With my face to his, I let my eyes flick to the side. He then leaned forward, dipping me deeply with his powerful hand under my lower back. I threw my head back to stare behind me, the surroundings etched in my mind—each shimmering gown and winged back.

  Roan pulled me back up to him, and my breasts grazed his chest. My breath caught in my throat, and I slid my arms tighter around his neck.

  He breathed in deeply. “Are you satisfied?”

  Pressed against his powerful chest, I tried to gather my thoughts. “Okay,” I said casually. “Behind me there are three women. Their dresses are sheer purple, green, and red, from left to right. Green is fanning herself with a fan with a bluebird drawn on it. Just behind them are two men; one has a tail, one a pair of wings. The one with the tail is looking at the red woman, but he’s trying to look as if he’s actual
ly checking out the purple. To their left are a man and a woman, each surrounded by a group of people. I’m talking about the one with the red mask, and the one with the silver mask—see them? They act like they don’t know each other, but when I looked, they exchanged a glance that makes me think they know each other very well. And see that woman in the corner with the silvery hair and the transparent pearly dress? She’s also examining the crowd, trying to act casual. She’s quite bad at it, I have to say. I could have spotted her a mile away. I think she’s a spy for someone.”

  Roan’s eyes focused and widened slightly. “That was… impressive.”

  “Oh,” I whispered, “I’m just getting started.”

  I kept going as we danced, twirling and dipping, describing outfits, drinks, casual glances. Then I counted the number of gold masks and ivory masks and tallied it for him, just to show off. Once I was done, I eased my concentration, letting the image fade away. But to my immense disappointment, I had seen nothing to suggest I was in the presence of the serial killer. Despite my attention to detail, maybe it really was all too foreign for me to interpret.

  Roan looked at me as my descriptions trailed off. “I’ll admit, you surprised me. Is that a part of your reflection magic?”

  “It’s part of my FBI magic. I’m trained to do this.”

  “That’s… interesting.” He frowned. “I’d never have imagined a three-born would be able to do that.”

  There was that phrase again, three-born. And he said it like some sort of curse. I stiffened. “What’s a three-born?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  I frowned. “Those guys there called me a three-born and a Lilive. Those words mean something. What is it?”

  Roan shook his head and splayed his fingers on my back, pulling me in tighter to him. I was intensely aware of each part of my body touching his, my hipbones brushing against him, his fingers curling protectively around my waist, as if we were real lovers.

  “Roan?” I asked. “If you’re investigating the serial killer case, what have you learned?”

  Slowly, as if in a trance, Roan drew slow circles on my waist with his fingertips. “I’ve already told you the killer is fae.”