by Vella Day
And the air? It seemed cleaner and sweeter than anything she’d ever smelled. Not only that, the temperature was perfect.
However, she hadn’t come to sightsee. If she had, she would have planned to stay for weeks to get her fill of this beautiful land. There had been no mention of the species of animals she’d see, but she didn’t want to chance upon some beast who was more powerful than a dragon.
Only then did it occur to her that her powers might not even exist in this realm. To test her worst nightmare, she attempted to shift. Success!
Since she needed to scope out some fields for this poisonous treniam plant, Zulema soared above the glimmering lake, and while tempted to dive into the clear waters, she wasn’t sure how long she could remain in Feyrion before she was identified as an interloper. The last thing she needed was to be taken to their police station and questioned. On purpose, she hadn’t taken any identification with her. Carrying a bank card or a driver’s license with her real name on it would incriminate her, and she couldn’t afford that. Too bad Derrick Valoric hadn’t created some fake papers for her in the name of Anna DeLeon. Clearly, the man was not infallible.
Since he hadn’t thought of everything, it meant she couldn’t spend a lot of time searching for the plant—at least not until she understood what she was up against. While she flew over the realm, her breath was taken away many times from the sight of the rich farmland and the acres of abundantly colorful flowers. Zulema spent about an hour looking around, only to realize she was going to need help in locating this poisonous plant. For now, she’d table her search.
It was time to look for Tamarella’s home and start investigating who might have killed her. This part of the dossier was a bit sketchy since it didn’t indicate where to find the deceased woman’s house—or castle. Surely, the townsfolk should be able to direct her to the Warnom’s estate. If Tamarella was a princess, her home would be well-known.
Zulema shot upward for a better vantage point, hoping to spot a city where she could ask for directions. After flying for about fifteen minutes, she reached a large town. It wasn’t the size of Edendale, but it would do. During her flight, she never spotted another dragon, which gave her some cause for concern. In case they didn’t exist here, she landed in a field, shifted, and then teleported the rest of the way.
From all the stress created by this assignment, she could use a good cup of coffee and a friendly face. As long as she remembered her name was Anna DeLeon, she should be okay. This might not be her first undercover assignment, but it could turn out to be the most important.
To her surprise, the inside of the coffee shop looked remarkably like the one she had back home. Zulema walked up to the counter and ordered a black coffee. Some of the names were rather strange, so she stuck with a safe order. When her stomach grumbled, she pointed to a pastry. Paying went smoothly since she handed the woman the largest bill she had.
“Can I ask you something?” Zulema said to the girl cashing her out.
“Sure.”
“I’m from Tarradon, and I just arrived. I was invited to the Warnom estate, only when I came through the portal, there was no one there to give me directions.”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve never used a portal, but the Warnom’s live east of here about fifteen minutes by car. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.”
With her coffee and pastry in hand, Zulema took a seat near the window. She was curious to see what similarities there were between the realms as well as the differences. While she’d never heard that Feys were violent, she wanted to see for herself. Someone had killed the poor woman, though it was possible a non-Fey had been responsible.
People appeared out of nowhere on the sidewalk and then disappeared again. Teleporting seemed to be commonplace. Good. That would make moving about easier. Zulema was relieved when she spotted a few dragons overhead. That meant she wouldn’t be considered a freak of nature.
She wasn’t here to study the culture, though. Zulema needed to find the treniam and then determine if Bevon Forrester had killed his cousin.
After eating, Zulema walked to the edge of town to find a place to shift and take off. Hopefully, there weren’t too many castles east of there, as it would be a bit embarrassing if she knocked on the wrong door. If that happened, at least, she had a good cover story.
She soared upward and then leveled off. Fifteen minutes by car was maybe ten minutes by air. When she spotted a castle, she landed in the field and then shifted. Zulema wished the dossier had mentioned if Anna DeLeon was a dragon shifter. Darn. That could be the one thing that might give away her false identity.
She was a short distance from the front of the castle when two guards teleported before her. “State your reason for being here,” one of them said in a very commanding voice.
Zulema inhaled. She was ready. “I received a note from Princess Tamarella. She asked that I visit. I live on Tarradon.” That came out stilted, but they had taken her by surprise.
At the mention of the other realm, the tension in their faces disappeared. “Do you have this note?” one of the guards asked.
“No. It was delivered by a friend of hers—a Derrick Valoric.”
They stiffened. He didn’t seem to be welcome here in Feyrion. “Come with me.”
She followed. Having grown up rather poor, Zulema couldn’t help but stare at the opulence. The castle was made of stone, but the many large windows seemed to be from a different era, not that the two realms should have the same design elements.
“Wait here,” the guard said after they escorted her into the foyer.
Fresh flowers sat on the entry table and large paintings adorned the walls. A moment later, footsteps sounded down the marble hallway. A regal woman wearing a long, white gown, effortlessly moved toward her.
“I’m Tamarella’s mother. Can I help you?”
“Nice to finally meet you. I’m Anna DeLeon, a friend of your daughter’s in Tarradon. She asked that I visit. It sounded important. Is she here?”
The woman’s lips thinned. “I’m sorry you came all this way. I’m afraid Tamarella died over a week ago.”
Zulema planted a palm on her chest and sucked in a breath to show her surprise. “That’s terrible. How did it happen?” It might give her some insight into how Bevon—or whoever had killed her—accomplished it. Valoric implied it had something to do with treniam.
“It appeared as if Tamarella rubbed treniam on her body and then slit her wrists—or so we were told.” Tension riddled the woman’s features.
Good. Her intel had been accurate. “But you don’t think it was suicide, do you?”
“Absolutely not. My daughter would never disgrace the family like that. While she wasn’t thrilled to mate with Tristan, she understood it was her duty.” Her mother lifted her chin.
“I totally agree. I’m guessing you have a suspect for this murder?” Zulema held her breath, partially hoping she didn’t say it was Bevon. Though if he were guilty, it would make her life easier since she knew where to find him.
“Not yet. Where are my manners? Please come into the drawing room. Would you care for a glass of camtandor?”
She had no idea what that was, but if it was offered, it would be rude to turn it down. “Yes, thank you.”
She followed Tamarella’s mother into the parlor. Convincing her that Zulema had known her daughter might prove to be her biggest test yet, so she had to be careful what she said. While Zulema wanted to ask a million questions about the daughter’s death, she didn’t want to raise suspicion. However, a good friend wouldn’t sit idly by, now would she?
“I am still in shock,” Zulema said. “Tamarella told me that Feys were kind of immortal.”
“That’s true. The treniam plant will weaken a Fey, but my daughter was only half Fey. I’m sure she told you that I’m a Fairy. We do not react the same way to treniam.”
That piece of information had been left out of the file. It was all the more reason to suspect foul play. �
��I can’t imagine the grief you must be going through. And Tristan? He must be beside himself.”
At the mention of Tamarella’s betrothed, her mother stiffened—just like the guards had when Zulema mentioned Valoric. “Tristan is devastated, for sure. The union would have united two powerful families.”
How sad that love wasn’t mentioned or even implied. “That is a shame.” As much as she wanted to bring up Derrick Valoric’s name, this probably wasn’t the time.
“Tamarella spoke of a handmaiden, Betina. Did she see anyone go into Tamarella’s room—assuming Tamarella died in the house?”
“My daughter died in her room, but Betina saw no one. She heard some kind of commotion, and when she went to check on my daughter, she found Tamarella on the floor, bleeding to death. Betina called us, but by the time my husband and I arrived, it was too late.”
Zulema sighed. This time, it was a real reaction to the tragedy. “Could someone have snuck into the room, killed her, and left?” The castle seemed rather secure, but she bet a cousin could enter without notice.
The mother stared at Zulema for a moment. “Sneaking is not necessary when any Fey or Fairy can teleport to her room.”
Many warlocks and witches could too, but she didn’t mention that. “Of course.”
A servant entered carrying a tray with two wonderful smelling drinks. She set it down and handed each of them a cup. Zulema sipped the hot brew and smiled. “This is delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“Are the authorities investigating Tamarella’s death?”
“Not anymore. They ruled it a suicide—rather quickly, I’m afraid. However, I’ve asked Tristan to discretely ask around to see if he can find out her frame of mind at the time of her death and whether my daughter might have taken her own life. Tamarella wasn’t always forthcoming with me.” The mother’s lips pinched. “And apparently not with Tristan either.”
“You don’t think he had anything to do with her death, do you?”
“Tristan? Absolutely not. He had everything to gain by them being together.”
Was it possible Tristan wanted out of the union as much as Tamarella did? If Valoric was to be believed, Tamarella was in love with Valoric. Possibly, Tristan was in love with someone else too.
Zulema finished off her drink and stood. “Once more, I am so sorry this happened. I’ll be on my way. Thank you for talking to me in your time of need.”
“You’re welcome to stay the night. We have room.” Her smile came out weak.
Zulema tried to decide if her offer was sincere. If Zulema stayed, it might give her the chance to speak with Betina, and maybe even Tristan—assuming she could find out where he lived.
“That is very kind of you.”
“Wonderful. Without Tamarella, this house has been empty. Where is your luggage?”
Shit. “I honestly wasn’t planning on staying. If Tamarella needed me, I would have opened the portal once more and returned to Tarradon to pick up a few things.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll have Betina lend you a few of Tamarella’s things. You two are about the same size.”
Zulema didn’t want to wear a dead woman’s clothes, but to say no might look suspicious. “I’d appreciate that.”
The mother rang a bell, and a servant appeared a minute later. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you find Betina and ask her to come here?”
“Of course.”
Despite the unexpected turn of events, Zulema had to say this day couldn’t have gone better. Good thing she hadn’t found the treniam. Hiding it on her person might have caused her to be arrested—or worse, killed—assuming the person got the drop on her. Her ability to teleport, when no other dragon shifter she knew could, offered a wonderful ability to escape.
Chapter Six
“Here’s a gown that Tamarella often wore at night,” Betina Liliana said, holding up a beautiful shirt made from the softest material. “Don’t worry. It’s clean.”
“Thank you.” Because wearing the clothes of the recently deceased was a bit creepy, Zulema might just sleep in her underwear.
“Will there be anything else, Miss?”
“Just a question, that’s all.”
“Yes?”
“Her mother said you found Tamarella?”
Betina inhaled. “Yes. It was terrible. I was in total shock. I know everyone is saying it was suicide, but I know it wasn’t.” She looked around, acting as if she suspected someone would burst into the room at any moment.
“Why would you say that?”
“I heard a commotion in her room right before she died.”
That matched up with what Tamarella’s mother had said. “Which means someone was in her room and killed her, right?”
“That’s what I think.”
“Did you see who?”
“No. I rushed into her room, but no one other than Tam was there. All I saw was blood. So much blood.” She sucked in a shudder. “Tamarella was barely conscious. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I couldn’t. Her mouth opened and closed, as if she was trying to tell me something. When I leaned over, all she said was Bevon.” Betina looked up. “He must have killed her.”
Zulema’s heart squeezed. “You believe her cousin killed her?”
“Perhaps.”
This was how rumors got started. “Why? Had they been fighting? I mean, I’ve never met the man, but he lives on Tarradon, does he not?”
Betina nodded. “He does.” She lowered her gaze. “I’ve only met him a few times myself, and he seemed nice. Because Tamarella rarely spoke of him, something must have happened.”
That made no sense. “But why call out Bevon’s name? Could she have wanted you to contact him for some reason?”
“Maybe, but why not called out Derrick’s name or even Tristan’s name for that matter?”
“Why indeed?” Zulema said.
“I know that Bevon and his brother, Kenton, showed up the next morning, but Bevon only stayed a few hours—just enough to provide comfort to the family.”
That would imply he might not have been on Feyrion when Tamarella died, though coming and going seemed to be easy for a Fey. “If I’d murdered a woman, I might not be so anxious to stay long,” I said.
“That’s true.”
Betina seemed to have thought this through. “You’re sure she didn’t kill herself?”
“I’m positive! She might have been in love with Derrick, but she knew her role in the family.”
“I’ve never met Tristan. He was kind to her, right?” Even if Zulema had been Anna, Tamarella might not have been totally forthcoming to her.
Betina averted her gaze. “He was, but he too agreed to the arrangement under duress.”
That was interesting. “Was there someone else in his life?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. I’m just a servant.” Her tone suddenly turned distant. She was hiding something.
“Thank you for speaking with me. I agree that Tamarella never would have killed herself. It wasn’t in her. Besides, I don’t think she would be the type to find a field of treniam, cut some, and carry it home.”
“That was what I was thinking. Someone else had to have brought it here.”
Her mind raced. “If that someone was a Fey, wouldn’t it have harmed him, or her, too?”
“Yes, but perhaps this person wore gloves.”
The girl had an answer for everything. “Again, thank you.”
Betina nodded and left. Zulema didn’t think she was any closer to learning whether Bevon was the killer than before she’d arrived.
“Bevon, wake up!”
That was his sister’s voice in his head. He roused. “Tally?”
His shy sister rarely contacted him. She’d made it clear that her life was on Feyrion and not on Tarradon, claiming Fay and Meena were capable of handling everything there, and that they didn’t need her.
“Yes. I have something important to tell you.”
He sat up and dragged
a hand down his unshaven face. “What is it, sweet sister?”
“Fay told me about some raven-haired woman looking to harm you.”
That again. “She’s harmless. I haven’t given her a second thought.” No use causing his already nervous sister any more stress.
“Then why is she on Feyrion asking questions?”
Bevon flew out of bed, his heart beat accelerating. “You must have the wrong woman. Zulema isn’t Fey, and I certainly didn’t let her through the portal.”
“Come see for yourself.”
“Have you seen her?”
“No, but one of the Warnom staff mentioned it to one of our staff members that a visitor from Tarradon was here. She’s claiming to be a friend of Tamarella’s. Mother had sensed an intruder and found her at Aunt Drina’s house.”
“Thank you for letting me know.”
“Should I tell Mother you’ll be visiting?”
Decisions, decisions. “I might.”
With that, he steeled his mind against any further intrusion, at least until he had some coffee. With a swipe of a hand, he dressed and padded out to the kitchen. What was with this woman, Zulema Garcia, haunting him?
For once and for all, he needed to find out what she was up to. As he fixed breakfast, he tried to decide his best plan of attack. She might think he was of Fairy descent since his sister was one, but his larger size would hopefully clue her into his Fey heritage. He had no idea how much she knew about his culture. The fact she’d found her way to Feyrion—a realm most people weren’t even aware existed—implied this was no ordinary adversary. But did that knowledge give him an advantage of any kind?
Perhaps he’d been naïve in thinking this woman was merely sad and misguided. Bevon needed to proceed with caution. Even though he’d gone to Feyrion for a very short visit after the death of his cousin a week ago, he would return, visit for a bit, and then check in on his aunt, who was still reeling after Tamarella’s tragic death.
