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To Kill a King (Hollowcliff Detectives Book 2)

Page 10

by C. S. Wilde


  Ah… much better.

  “Beg for their forgiveness!” Leon pointed at Bast and Mera.

  Corvus shook against the power of the future king’s demand—a ridiculously strong form of glamour. He screamed in anger, but he could only fight for so long.

  The asshole bowed on the floor abruptly, as if an invisible force had crashed upon him. His forehead thumped against the white marble.

  “Please forgive my insolence,” he growled.

  With her mind still fuzzy and spinning, Mera blinked at Leon, then at Corvus. “I want to go…” She pushed her face against Bast’s chest.

  “Understood,” he agreed soothingly, ignoring his brother’s plea. He took her in his arms, lifting her off her feet.

  Mera’s eyes fell closed as she heard the flapping of wings, and then a soft breeze lulled her to sleep.

  She must’ve drifted off for a quick moment, but when she came to, Bast was already landing before the precinct. The orange of sunset bathed the landscape, seeping to the space around them.

  He took her up the stairs to the apartment on the second floor, then opened the door.

  Giggling, Mera nuzzled his neck as they went inside the living room. “Hmm, what are we about to do, Detective?”

  “You need rest,” he said softly, pushing the door to her room open with his foot. “That magic must’ve been freakishly strong to render an akritana powerless.”

  Gently, he laid her in bed, then helped her out of her jacket. Yet, Mera wasn’t sleepy, not anymore. The happiness she’d experienced still buzzed inside her; still took over her thoughts and actions.

  She wanted, needed, to share it with Bast.

  In one swift move, she pulled him onto the mattress and straddled him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Bending her head down, she nudged the tip of his nose with hers. “Be happy with me.”

  Deep down, Mera sensed she didn’t have the reigns of her own body, not entirely, but unlike before, the faint presence inside her didn’t object to what she was doing.

  Bast gaped at her, his nostrils flared. “Mera, you don’t know what⸺”

  She pressed her lips to his.

  At first, he kept his jaw locked, but she wasn’t one to give up easily. Eventually, his body relaxed and his mouth caved to hers. Bast’s hands grabbed the back of her neck as he deepened their kisses, their tongues fighting a war of their own, their breaths intertwined.

  “I’m not strong enough,” he grumbled as he nibbled her lower lip, his rock-hard erection growing underneath his pants, right between Mera’s thighs. “We have to stop.”

  The hell she would.

  Mera rocked her hips back and forth as they kissed, rubbing the bead between her thighs against his bulging length.

  “You’ll come in your pants, Sebastian Dhay,” she whispered in his ear, giggling wickedly.

  “Fuck, Mera…” He kissed her hard and long. “It’s too good.”

  Fire pooled inside her while she kept rubbing, and a moan escaped her lips. It was their motions, the scorching burn of his delirious kisses, and his deft hands digging against her flesh.

  Mera would explode soon.

  Very soon.

  “Oh, Bast,” she moaned, feeling herself climbing higher and higher.

  He bit the tip of her shoulder as she kept moving over him, his fangs sinking in her flesh just enough to increase her pleasure. “We can’t,” he grumbled. “Shouldn’t…”

  In that moment, exhaustion weighed down on Mera at once, her flesh and bone suddenly as heavy as stone.

  What’s happening?

  She fell sideways, her body completely limp, but Bast took her in his arms right on time. Laying her back on the bed, he kissed her forehead.

  Only then did Mera realize that tentacles of night and stars had wrapped around her ankles, sucking any energy she had left.

  The bastard was forcing her to sleep.

  “But you want this,” she protested drowsily. The bliss of oblivion crashed down on her, and Mera’s eyes closed. She couldn’t open them again. “I want this, too…”

  A bitter sadness rang in his tone. “You don’t know what you want, kitten.”

  Chapter 12

  The smell of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the closed bedroom door, waking up Mera. Her belly grumbled in response.

  She expected a major headache as a result from the enchanted wine, but so far, she felt fine.

  Well, not exactly fine. A deep groan escaped her when memories from last night rushed back to the surface.

  Poseidon in the trenches, she’d not only stripped in front of the royal family, but also dry-humped Bast.

  Mera glared at the bedroom’s sky-blue ceiling, shame freezing her from head to toe. Could she sink into this bed? Hide from the rest of the world?

  Hell, she’d made a total fool of herself, especially with her partner. Thankfully, Bast kept a cool head and stopped her before… yeah. Both her hands slammed over her face, a prickly sensation thrashing in her chest.

  ‘He doesn’t want us,’ her siren whimpered.

  That didn’t, shouldn’t, matter. He’d done the right thing, even if a part of her hated his self-control.

  Sure, Mera should have known better than to drink enchanted wine, but her lack of judgement didn’t excuse what Corvus and Benedict had done. The evil dickwarts could have asked anything of her, and she would have gladly complied. Mera had never felt more terrified in her life, not even when she’d battled her own mother.

  No, that wasn’t entirely right.

  She felt the same dread and powerlessness back at the Summer King’s penthouse. Images of thugs punching and kicking Bast nonstop flashed in her mind. Dark blood poured over the left side of his face as Mera watched. All she could do was watch.

  Tensing, she shook the memory away just as Bast’s steps thumped outside, along with the clattering of cutlery and plates. He must be preparing breakfast, which was nice, but how could Mera face him without exploding in shame?

  Fact: Enchanted wine or not, she’d wanted to bang Bast yesterday. Fiercely. And he was the one who’d kept his restraint, which was a first in their relationship.

  Well, there was no avoiding her partner, not until they finished their assignment.

  Gruffly getting out of bed, she stepped into the living room. Sunlight drenched the space in a warm morning glow, and for a moment, Mera wondered if she might be dreaming.

  Bast had his shirt rolled up to his elbows, as he always did, but she couldn’t say why it caught her attention this time. In any case, showcasing strong forearms like that should be illegal. Mera had no clue how she’d been able to concentrate on their cases this far.

  Poseidon in the trenches, what was happening to her?

  ‘Ha! Who’s the horny one now?’ her siren jeered.

  Bast’s bun was higher than usual and yet just as messy. The silver threads of his hair framed the sides of his face, and Mera gulped when a familiar fire pooled between her thighs.

  “Morning,” he greeted with a charming grin, dragging a chair back in a clear cue for her to sit.

  “Morning,” she countered quietly, avoiding eye contact as she dropped on her seat. A cup of hot coffee waited for her, and she took in its delicious scent before tasting the first sip.

  Ah, bliss. Her muscles relaxed just a little.

  From the open kitchen, Bast brought a plate with a stack of pancakes and set it between them. He sat on the chair across from her, then poured them fresh orange juice.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked with a smirk stamped in his ridiculously perfect face.

  A furious blush rose to Mera’s cheeks, so she focused on her coffee. “Look… I’m really sorry about yesterday.”

  Frowning, he placed a pair of pancakes on her plate. “Don’t you dare apologize for what those sukets made you do.”

  “No, not about that. I meant about what I did to you… afterwards.”

  “Ah, that.” He poured syrup over his panca
kes before handing her the small porcelain jug. “So, you’re saying you wanted to do what we were going to do?”

  “No! I mean, I did, but I didn’t have control.” She chided herself. “What I want to say is that it was wrong of me to ‘attack’ you. Thank you, for doing the right thing.”

  “Oh, kitten, don’t thank me. I almost…” He shrugged off what he was about to say, then licked his lips in a wicked manner. Like a wolf about to feast. “I’m sure we’ll get other chances.”

  Other chances?

  Poseidon in the trenches, they were partners! Chances were out of the question, and yet, Mera wanted to jump Bast right then, and shove that bulging part of his inside her.

  Down, girl!

  Taking a deep breath, she bit her bottom lip. Mera couldn’t blame her siren this time. Then again, they were one and the same, so did it matter?

  “I’m sorry for what happened back at the castle. I felt the power thrumming in my veins, the darkness pulling me into its infinite pathways… but it wasn’t enough to break free of Ben and Corvus’ magic.”

  “Bast, it wasn’t your fault.”

  He chewed a piece of his pancake and shrugged, obviously ignoring what she’d said. “If it’s any consolation, I went back after you fell asleep. Ben had already left, but Corvus was still there, so I took the opportunity to teach him a lesson. With my fists.”

  “That’s technically police brutality.”

  “Is it? I’d call it a family feud. Brothers fight all the time, don’t they?”

  She rolled her eyes. “How very faerie of you.”

  It might not be right, but Mera was glad he’d avenged her, at least a little. Sure, it was a petty sentiment, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  She took a bite of her pancake, followed by another, and when she realized, she’d finished both stacks.

  Heck, she must’ve been starving.

  “Your brothers are assholes, I’ll give you that.” Taking a long gulp of her orange juice, Mera set the glass back on the table. “However, we need to focus on our investigation. Once we arrest your father’s murderer, we can worry about Corvus.”

  “Maybe we’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

  “Bast…”

  “Corvus is behind this.” His mouth contorted into a downward curve. “I can feel it in my gut.”

  With a sigh, Mera scratched the back of her neck. Yes, Bast was biased. Yes, she couldn’t trust his judgement, but every good detective knew that a gut feeling shouldn’t be ignored.

  “All right, then.” She wiped her lips with a napkin. “Let’s prove it.”

  Bast sat hunched over the precinct’s table as he dusted the left side of the chocolate box for fingerprints. The magnifying glasses strapped to a headband around his forehead made him resemble a mad scientist from old movies.

  Mera focused on the open computer on her lap and stared at the screen. A circle swirled in the center while the system scanned the first batch of fingerprints.

  “How’s it going?” Bast asked from the table, his focus locked on the box.

  The program still said, “Image processing.”

  “Running.” She sighed. “It takes time.”

  Lifting his head, he frowned at her, and Mera had to hold a giggle. His eyes looked gigantic through the magnifying lenses, making him resemble a cute turtle.

  “You’re incredibly calm about the enchanted wine episode,” he said, “especially considering what Corvus did to you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Despite the dark subject, Mera couldn’t hold her laughter. Bast looked both ridiculous and adorable.

  Rolling his enormous turtle eyes, he lifted the glasses. “I’m serious.”

  “Sure, I’m angry.” She cleared her throat. “But my partner once told me he was a detective first, and a bastard with a grudge second.”

  Raising an intrigued eyebrow, he gave her a cocky grin. “Your partner is a wise fae.”

  “He has his moments. Between you and me, he’s a bit full of himself.” She winked at him playfully. “Besides, you already punched Corvus, so…”

  “Ten times before Leon stepped in.”

  “Seriously?” She waved her hand dismissively. “Consider my honor defended, ser Dhay.”

  “I can’t wait to put him behind iron bars.” Crossing his arms, Bast stared ahead. “My reckoning with that shig has been a long time coming.”

  “We’re detectives,” Mera reminded him as she clicked on the screen. “We don’t do reckoning.”

  “When it comes to Corvus and I, that’s the only way it will end,” he stated with absolute certainty, his gaze lost. “With violence, blood, and one victor.”

  “I’ll pretend you didn’t mention murdering someone, Detective,” she countered, “Only because I recognize an empty threat when I hear it.” Though in all truth, Bast’s threat had been far from empty.

  “Mera, Corvus is an asshole and a killer.”

  “So are you.”

  He cocked his head left, a flash of anger rushing behind his eyes, yet it quickly faded when he seemed to consider it twice.

  “Fair point,” he admitted.

  The program kept searching the prints through the Tagradian database. Mera had ensured the system would ignore the matches on Bast’s mother and father, so she hoped to get at least a partial from the murderer.

  She checked the screen for a while, idly wondering if she should tell Bast what had been on her mind.

  Screw it.

  “To be fair, you’re not completely innocent,” she blurted. “You shouldn’t have lost your mind and provoked Corvus in the first place. You’re here as a detective, remember?”

  He glared at her, his jaw hanging open. “Oh, sure!” He threw his arms up. “Blame this on me.”

  “I’m not saying it’s your fault. Not at all, but you called Karthana your left over. You said Corvus was her second choice, and you accused him of murder without any proof. That wasn’t proper detective behavior, was it?”

  Looking out the window, he clicked his tongue. “We’ll interview the palace’s staff the day after tomorrow. Do you have your questions ready?”

  Changing the subject must have been a lot easier for him than admitting he might’ve been wrong.

  “I have plenty,” she assured. “We’re not getting out of there without answers.”

  Bast turned to her, studying Mera with a certain admiration, his gaze lost and focused at the same time. “You’re the strongest Tagradian I’ve ever met, and one damn fine detective.” A soft smile creased his lips. “What would I do without you?”

  She turned to the screen before a violent blush conquered her cheeks. Changing the subject might be a good idea, since all she wanted was to kiss Bast senseless. “How was it growing up in the palace?”

  He removed the headband with the goggles, ruffling threads of disheveled hair that made him look way too appealing.

  Running a hand through his locks, he shrugged. “Good and bad.”

  “Great answer, bud.”

  He chuckled. “There were good things. My mom, for one. Father might have been a cruel prick, but Mom was kind, and she always watched out for us.” A veil of sadness fell over his face. “When her mind started to drift, Leon took the job.”

  “He did?”

  Bast nodded, a sweet smile blooming on his lips. “Big Brother blew on my wounds when I was a kid, and he taught me how to wield a sword. I love lemon pie, so Leon wouldn’t have his dessert after dinner, only to hand it to me when Father wasn’t looking.” Bast leaned his elbows on the table. “He’s the glue that keeps us together. He tries, at least.”

  ‘Mental note,’ her siren whispered, ‘bake Bast a lemon pie. Also, learn how to bake.’

  “That’s a huge responsibility,” Mera said.

  “It is, but Leon never complained.” He seemed lost in his memories for a moment. “So, yeah. Mom, Leon. Stella. They were the good. Master Raes…” Raising his brow, he blew air through his lips. “I gue
ss both good and bad. He found a darkness in me and set it free, which I later realized was bad. But he took me in as his own, and that was good.”

  “What about Karthana?”

  “Complicated.” He shrugged. “Good, because she was my friend and my first… well, first. Bad because she wanted something I couldn’t give.”

  “Love?”

  “That, too.”

  “And Corvus?”

  “Most children feared the Boogey-banshee when I was young. I feared Corvus, and how easily he could take things from me, though I never let it show; never told a soul.” His lips turned into a line as a world of pain marred his expression. “That bastard is bad, Mera. Bad to the fucking bone.”

  The fingerprints turned out to be a dead end.

  From the batch, Mera had gotten a foreign partial that could belong to the murderer, but it wasn’t enough to identify them.

  So close…

  After that, Bast decided to pay a visit to Charles Grey, since the vamp kept profiles on the palace’s employees.

  If any of the nightlings they would interrogate tomorrow had a history of violence, or a criminal record, maybe they could’ve killed the Night King. Sure, it was a long shot, but Mera and Bast grasped at straws, so it was worth investigating.

  She decided to stay behind to call Ruth and update her and Asherath on their findings, especially since the Night King’s death had officially become a murder investigation.

  Once she got off the phone with them, and having no profiles to analyze yet, Mera decided to go through the case again.

  From what they could gather, the box of chocolates had arrived in the mailroom. The package? Lost.

  Not good. Not good at all.

  The Night King then received the gift, shared the bonbons with his wife, and all was fine and dandy until he dropped dead two days later from a heart attack. If Seraphina Dhay hadn’t asked Bast and Mera for help, the king’s death would’ve remained ruled as natural causes.

  This meant the killer was calculating, smart.

 

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