by Ashley Meira
He chuckled softly again, and I imagined how it would sound directly against my ear as it rustled my hair. Damn it. I filed those thoughts away for later. Much later. Maybe I’d call Ipos and see if he was free.
“That’s a good point,” he said. “How did that happen, by the way? Why aren’t you back home and serving as the successor of the Wallace family?”
Well, fuck you, buddy. I guess when you’re looking at someone for a massacre, you go all in with the personal questions. Mm, all in. Wait, no. Bad. Very bad. But it could feel so good. Damn it.
I shook my head to clear away the thoughts. “There’s no rule that a successor has to be directly related to the current head of the family.” The expectant look on his face had me adding, “My father sent me to live with Lady Cassand– Lady Maxwell when I turned eight.”
“Right, I remember now.” The way he said it made it clear he never forgot and was just trying to fuck with me. Prick. “Sir Sullivan sending his only daughter away was big news for a while.”
I nodded. The curt smile on my face was painful as I thought of my father. “And you? Quid pro quo,” I said at his arched brow.
“I was adopted by a member of the Campbell family when I was five. He saved me from a demon and took me in.”
And he’d gone from a basic rescue to a prominent hunter. I may have been Sullivan Wallace’s daughter, but that meant little when you were sent away to live with another family. I worked long and hard to not be seen as an outsider, as more than just some charity case. Apparently, so had he. A sense of kinship blossomed within me even as I tried to squash it down; maybe I’d been too quick to judge him.
“What’s it like being a witch?” he asked. I wasn’t sure if he just felt obligated to keep making conversation or if this was some strange interrogation technique. Like I said, mediums were weird. For all I knew, he got off on this. If that was the case, then the least he could do was share the love.
“What’s it like being a medium?” I shot back more defensively than intended. “Did you always know, or was there a time when you just thought you were insane?”
“It’s kind of hard for a four year old to understand that what he’s seeing isn’t real. I was lucky my adoptive father found me when he did. Did you always know you were a witch?”
“My mother was a witch. Couldn’t you go ask that ghost of yours for more information on her killer?”
“His killer. Do you always avoid answering questions about yourself?” A dimple peeked through his cheek as he gave me an amused smile.
“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who didn’t answer my question.”
There was a silence as we stared each other down. A pink tongue came out to run across his lips, bringing to mind a few images that could make even a demon blush. Maybe I should call Ipos now. This is what happened when you were on bed rest for a few months: no action – in any sense of the word.
“Did you see what happened that day?” he asked.
“I saw the caravan setting up by the fountain, but it was only in passing. I was on my way to an appointment.”
“I don’t suppose you’d tell me who that appointment was with?”
“No,” I said firmly. There’d been enough diving into my personal life today, thank you very much.
“As you might have heard, the deaths were very brutal. I’m not sure if you have any experience with mediums and their interactions with ghosts, but when someone undergoes a traumatic death–”
“Forcing them to remain is a horrific experience that falls under the Council’s law regarding the torture of supernatural beings.”
He nodded. “It’s rare to find a spirit that wants to help – or is even capable of doing so. Once he gave me the information, the least I could do was let him pass on.”
An ear-piercing scream rang throughout the house. Alexander and I shot out of our seats and ran into the hallway where a panicked and sobbing Lily was stumbling down the stairs. She collapsed into my arms, burying her face in my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s Auntie Cass,” she whimpered, looking up at me with puffy red eyes. “She’s dead!”
2
While I went to make the poor girl a cup of tea, Alexander proved himself to be both a perfect gentleman – he escorted Lily back to the couch before pulling a nearby quilt over her shoulders – and completely socially inept. Call me old fashioned, but I didn’t think it good form to start grilling a girl who could barely hold onto her cup.
I doubt he actually wanted to make her more upset; most hunters defaulted to a professional nature when a suspicious death arose. Of course, that thought didn’t cross the diminutive girl’s mind as she began sobbing even harder at Alexander’s most recent question. At least he had the decency to look guilty.
Rowan, whose presence I had nearly forgotten about, placed a paw on Lily’s thigh and shot Alexander a disapproving look that could make even the most hardened hunter cry. “Calm yourself, child,” she said to Lily. “Take a deep breath and tell us what you remember.”
“I don’t know!” Lily sobbed. “I went in. It looked like she was sleeping, but when I tried to wake her… She was so cold and–”
I wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders as she descended into hysterics, giant tears dripping into her tea. Signaling for Alexander to follow me into the hallway, I gave her a reassuring hug before walking over to the other hunter. Rowan hopped into Lily’s lap, and the crying girl clung to her like a lifeline.
“There’s no way her death was an accident,” I whispered, shooting a furtive glance at Lily to make sure she hadn’t heard me.
“As far as you know,” he said, “was she healthy? Did she share any concerns with you?”
I shook my head. “Aside from her flu, she’s been the picture of health.”
As for anything she said to me, I decided to keep that to myself. Lady Cassandra mentioned a small issue she’d been having with some of the city’s guards lately. They were demons, which considering what happened in Fortune Square, wasn’t something I wanted to mention right now.
In the name of supporting an alliance between the Court of Hell and the Order of Hunters, all the families have allowed demons to start living in Order towns and take up jobs. That was fine, not all demons were bad. The same applied to werewolves, vampires, and everything else that went bump in the night – just because a few of them were assholes didn’t mean their entire race needed to be put down.
Ever since the latest batch of recruits joined the local force, there have been reports of less than pleasant conduct among the guards. Lady Cassandra wanted to look into it some more before sharing her findings with me, so I was just as in the dark as everyone else. Damn it, why hadn’t she trusted me with any of this? I’m her successor – the least she could have done was share.
“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her?” Alexander asked, jarring me out of my thoughts.
“Can I think of anyone who would want to harm the head of one of the Order’s families, one of the most renowned hunters of the last century?”
He rubbed his temples and sighed. “Has she been having any problems with a specific person?”
“No.” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to make sense of the storm rushing around in my mind. “The servants need to be questioned. It’s too early for them to have called it a day, yet the house is empty.”
“Are they in-house staff?”
“There’s a separate building on the property, but yeah.”
“You go question them. I’ll check the body.”
He made to move past me, but I pressed a hand against his chest, taking a moment to appreciate how firm he was. “Whoa there, cowboy. Do you really think I’m going to let you see the head of the Maxwell family in such a state?”
“I’m here to–”
“You’re here to find whoever killed those demons. Beyond that, you’re out of your jurisdiction. I’ll go check the body and alert the C
ouncil of my findings. You can stay with Lily.”
He gave me a hard look. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re still a potential suspect for the massacre. I’m not letting you go anywhere alone.”
I took a step closer to him so that we were almost nose to nose. Or chest to nose in this case. “Look, that woman up there is the closest thing to family I’ve ever had. So, I don’t give a damn what you think about me right now. Stay out of my way and stop wasting my time.”
His jaw clenched. “Look–”
I didn’t let him finish. With a roll of my eyes, I marched upstairs. He could follow if he wanted – hopefully, he’d fall down the stairs. Accidentally, of course. I would never push him. Kick him, maybe, but not push him. There was no way of knowing what condition Lady Cassandra was in, and the thought of him seeing her at anything less than her best…
Maybe I should kick and push him.
My hand was on the doorknob to her room when the doorbell rang. The two of us made our way back downstairs, reaching for the guns holstered on our thighs. A tuft of red peeked out from the living room, and I pressed a finger to my lips before gesturing for her to hide. She nodded and vanished, her footsteps quiet against the hardwood floors. Good to know Lady Cassandra managed to teach her something about being a hunter.
Alexander made his way to the door, turning back to see if I’d hidden behind the nearby wall. I gave him a nod and watched as he opened the door, angling his body to hide the gun. A quiet sigh of relief left my lips as the door opened to reveal Ipos.
Boy, was he a sight for sore, sexually frustrated eyes. Ipos was a tall bear of a man – well, demon – with warm brown skin and close cut blonde hair. He had chiseled features and coy brown eyes that were currently narrowed at Alexander. He was wearing his usual combo of cargo pants, work boots, and tank top that showed off his well-muscled physique along with the demonic sigils that spanned the length of his arms.
“Can I help you?” asked Alexander.
Ipos smirked, as if the very idea that Alexander could do anything to help him was preposterous. “I have an appointment with Lady Maxwell.”
“She’s indisposed at the moment. Can I take a message?”
“Sure. You can tell the pipsqueak that her attempts at stealth are still heartbreaking, though much better than before.”
Lily stuck her head into the room, giving a small wave as Alexander’s hand tightened around his gun. I stepped out before the situation could escalate.
“Ipos,” I greeted, giving him a seductive smile as I sauntered over to them.
“Morgan. Is that a gun in your hand or are you just happy to see me?”
“Why not both, handsome?”
The smirk on Ipos’ face widened as he looked me over. “Still spending a normal person’s annual salary on your wardrobe, I see. Don’t you ever worry about getting your clothes dirty on a job?”
“Silk is very strong. Besides, I haven’t had a chance to worry about getting dirty – on the job or otherwise – in a while. Why are you here?”
“Right, you’re back here to recover from your injuries.”
“Which is stupid.” I frowned. “Like I needed to be stuck on my ass for months.”
“Still, a vacation never killed anyone. You certainly look great,” Ipos said, dragging his eyes over me again. God, did I miss him. “To answer your question: Lady Maxwell wanted an update once I interrogated the demons that were around Fortune Square the day of the massacre. Who’s your friend?”
“My name is Alexander Campbell and I–”
“He thinks I’m a killer,” I said, a smile curling up on my lips at Alexander’s frown.
“A hunter who hasn’t killed anyone isn’t really a hunter. Or is that a euphemism?” Ipos “tsked” at me with a playful grin. “Are you just rubbing my face in your sex life?”
I batted my eyes, the innocence of the action diminished by the smug grin on my face. “Do you really think I’m that crass?”
“Of course not. I know you are.”
“Enough with the torturous foreplay,” Rowan said, pouncing onto my head.
“Oi.” I poked her furry side. “My head isn’t a cat post.”
“True. A cat post is taller.” She swung her thick tail in front of my face as she addressed Ipos. “Her Ladyship is dead.”
Ipos frowned at the news and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “My condolences,” he said, looking at Lily as she burst into tears once more.
I pulled her into a hug. She clung to me, her tears seeping through the silken material of my blouse. Sure, it’ll block an arrow but not tears.
“Have you inspected the body yet?” Ipos asked.
Alexander holstered his gun. “We were about to when you rang.”
“I was about to,” I corrected.
“You aren’t going alone–”
“You don’t have the right to–”
“Enough!” Lily said with a loud sniffle. “Auntie Cass is dead. Someone murdered her. They had to. There’s no way she died of natural causes. So, I don’t care which of you finds the killer, just do it.”
The three of us shared a look severely lacking in trust as a silence fell over the room. Rowan sighed – as much as a cat could – and jumped to the ground before padding toward the stairs.
“You heard the lady. Now, come along and let’s get to the bottom of this. There’s going to be panic once everyone finds out that the head of the Maxwell family is dead – especially if she was murdered. We can at least get as much information as possible before making the announcement.” She pressed a paw against Lily’s leg. “Will you be okay alone, Lily?”
She nodded, barely holding in a whimper as she shuffled back to the living room, her boney fingers clutching the blanket around her for dear life.
Lady Cassandra’s room was large, as befitting a woman of her station. She rose up from being the weakest, least remarkable of her siblings to being one of the most formidable hunters in the western world and my biggest hero. Damned right, she earned this place. Hell, she earned five times this.
Stepping into the room now, it looked bigger than it ever had. Emptier, too, like all the joy had left with her. Our footsteps, normally silent, dropped like booming thunder as we approached her bedside. The air was devoid of its usual scent of rose and sage, replaced by mint and… Was that cardamom?
Rowan’s eyes were narrowed as she surveyed the room; there was no way she could miss the change of smell in here.
If Lily hadn’t said anything, no one would have guessed that the woman lying there so peacefully was dead. The blankets around her were disheveled and her head was turned to the side, both likely from Lily checking for signs of life. Her hair was spread around her like a dark halo, further highlighting her deathly pallor. I pressed two fingers against her neck, trying to keep my hands from shaking as they made contact with her frozen skin.
“She’s dead,” I whispered, looking down at the only mother I’d ever known. My throat closed up to the point of pain and tears welled up in my eyes. I forced everything down with a deep, shuddery breath as I struggled to cling to anything resembling composure.
“She’s passed on,” Alexander said. “I can’t speak with her spirit.”
Ipos pulled the blankets off of her completely. “No obvious signs of trauma.”
“Someone skilled enough to kill her wouldn’t leave any obvious traces,” said Rowan.
I left them to their discussion. It was too painful to look at her that way. She took me in when my father threw me away, raised me as her own, made me the woman I am today, and now….
Now she was dead, and I would make whoever did this pay. I took another deep breath, relieved at how much steadier it was. Revenge first, grief later.
Crouching in front of the fireplace, I pulled the small cauldron out and looked through its contents. Hibernation cardamom, pygmy mint, sapphire root, and water blossom – that explained the smell. Lady Cassandra had been down with the flu, was this a pot
ion for her? The ingredients didn’t make any healing potion I’d ever seen.
The room felt smaller, shrinking in a way that only Ipos’ imposing presence could achieve. “What’d you find, Mori?”
“I don’t know.” I sifted through the remains of the potion. “This was brewed maybe six hours ago. Lady Maxwell had a flu, but the ingredients don’t make up any healing potion I know of.” I tilted the cauldron toward Alexander as he knelt by me.
“I don’t recognize it, either. Though I suppose you’d be more of an expert,” he said.
“These don’t make anything together,” I said. “A few ingredients must have evaporated or been melted away completely.”
“What kind of possibilities are we looking at?” Ipos asked.
“Depends. It could be anything from a love potion to any number of poisons,” I finished with a sigh. I was hoping she really had died of natural causes. At least it meant she hadn’t been murdered. But hey, why should I catch a break now?
“This cup carries the same scent as the cauldron,” Rowan called from Lady Cassandra’s bedside, shifting a cup between her front paws. “It’s possible we found our murder weapon.”
Ipos ran a hand through his hair. “You’re certain it’s murder, then?”
“Was there really any doubt?” Rowan said with a tired sigh. “The Council will have to be notified.”
Chaos was going to reign once the news got out. Who had the balls to strike at the leader of the Maxwell family in her own home? This was the heart of the beast, for fuck’s sake! My mind swam with possibilities of what could have happened. If the poison used to kill her was brewed in this cauldron, then the missing ingredients would tell me what it was. That could help me find her killer.
Monks bark would dissipate within six hours, as would void creeper. That, combined with the remainder of the ingredients, would make Saint Frederick’s Venom. If it was abyssal peppermint, spring mace, and yellow rosemary, then we’d have Corrigan’s Ire. No, Corrigan’s Ire left the victim’s lips black.
