Web of Lies: Trueborn Heirs Series Book 2

by Nyna Queen

  Belaris produced a box that held several more memoras. “That secret safe didn’t just contain the ring but was quite a well of juicy morsels.” He chucked the box to Darken, who caught it easily and inspected the contents. “This should be more than enough incriminating evidence to justify a search warrant for the joint, don’t you think?”

  Darken’s eyes grew wider with every picture.

  Belaris gave him another very smug grin. “Providing a simple escort service is one thing, but fostering prostitution under the pretext of a virtuous theater without a license, is quite another. And to use the green room for such dubious purposes …” He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “I happen to know that any building providing such services, needs to have special rooms that fulfill certain privacy standards, for the protection of the basic rights of the prostitutes. And that there are severe penalties for infringing these standards.”

  Darken tapped the tips of his index fingers together. “I know that Steph has trusted contacts within the guardaí department in Lancaester. If he could drop a hint and convince his law buddies to make sure the joint is busted during the Summerball …” His voice trailed off and Alex thought she could almost see the gears spinning behind his forehead. He slowly let out his breath. “The timing would have to be perfect. Perhaps we could use a c-spell ourselves to be aware of the exact moment everything goes down. And then we would just have to keep an eye on our three suspects and see who reacts to the notification.”

  “Exactly,” Belaris said. “And if you’re lucky, your ‘master’ might even feel the dire need to contact his people after that. So, if you had someone who could discreetly follow him to the communication chamber and who could listen in to a call from some distance …” His eyes grazed Alex in a meaningful way.

  Darken’s mouth curved into a smile. “You are a genius, Belaris.”

  “I’ll try not to be offended by the fact that you only just noticed.” Belaris shook his head. “Never mind. You do know what this means, though, don’t you? You only have one shot at this.”

  “One shot,” Darken agreed softly.

  It also meant that they would have to go through with the ball. And her own involvement in it. Alex realized that some part of her had hoped that she might still find a way to get out of it.

  Oh well, too late to cop out now.

  “As for the other issue …” Belaris gave Alex an unsure glance.

  Darken made a dismissive gesture. “She’s in the loop.”

  Belaris pondered her. “You sure about this?”

  “I am.” Sharp steel suffused Darken’s voice.

  His friend raised his hands. “Alright, alright. You’re the boss, boss. But I hate to disappoint you: there is no file on the Manor Creek murders.”

  A sudden chill filled the room. If there had been any candles, they would have flickered.

  “What do you mean?” Darken asked too softly. “I know what I saw, Belaris.”

  “I don’t doubt you, man,” Belaris said appeasingly. “But fact is, there is no official record in the central mission logs about any authorized forfeit activity in that area at the time you mentioned. As far as the Order is concerned, what you saw, didn’t happen.”

  “Are you absolutely positive about that?”

  “Hell man, who do you trust?” Belaris placed both hands on the table. “Whatever happened there, it wasn’t an official forfeit mission and after you told me about those guys killing that civilian woman in cold blood, I’m not too surprised, either.”

  Darken’s jaw muscles tightened and he raked his fingers through his hair. “Damn. If only we could find those shapers who attacked the family before the forfeits arrived.”

  “You’re a little too late for that, my friend.”

  Darken snapped upright. “Why?”

  Belaris frowned. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it yet. They were apprehended near Rhelrya yesterday evening. Word is, they were drunk and boasting about the murders in public. The news will be full of it at the latest tonight.”

  “And you only tell me that now?” Darken glared at Belaris in outrage.

  The other forfeit crossed his arms. “Bro, I was of the opinion that I was supposed to tell you the secret stuff. Not what’s already out there.”

  For a second Alex thought Darken might jump over the table and strangle his friend with his bare hands. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting for composure.

  “Where are they held?”

  There was a short pause before Belaris answered. “Angelwings Grove.”

  The string of highly obscene curses that followed made Alex blink.

  “What is that place?” she asked. Some high-security prison, no doubt.

  “It’s a morgue,” Darken said flatly.

  Alex’s mouth dropped open.

  “Apparently, they resisted the arrest and had to be taken out.”

  “How convenient,” Darken muttered.

  “They as good as confessed and nobody is shedding a tear over them.” Belaris shrugged. He pulled out another small folder. “As it happens, I have pictures of the dead shapers as well, but … well … it’s not really a … pretty sight …”

  It took Alex a moment to understand. Oh, please!

  “Sugar, just because I’m a woman I won’t crumble at the sight of a bit of blood. I’ve seen dead people before. Hell, I’ve probably done worse to people myself.”

  Belaris fidgeted a little. “I just wanted to be prudent …”

  “Less prudent. More pictures.”

  “Okay okay, just saying,” he muttered as he opened the new folder and spread four pictures on the table.

  Despite her contention, Alex had to swallow at the sight.

  The first picture showed a black guy with red stripes across his nose and cheekbones. Paint? Or was it blood? Hard to say since it was so easy to be distracted by the fact that the back of his head was a gory mess of shattered bones and flesh where a bullet must have exploded.

  The next was an almost youthful redhead with serrated teeth for the extra fear factor. A vertical fissure cleaved his face nearly in two. A low flash bolt from a spell gun, maybe. Almost no blood, edges cauterized by the heat.

  The one beside him had been shot in the face at least three times. Not much identification to be done there, except for distinct snake tattoos winding around his neck.

  The last was a man with long, matted brown hair, a flat nose, and a bone earring that looked quite human to Alex. Blood leaked from his open mouth which was filled with broken teeth. Black bruises marked his neck and chin.

  “That must have been a hell of a lot of resistance,” Alex noted.

  “So they say.”

  Darken shot her a quizzical look. “You don’t coincidentally happen to know any of them?”

  It was clearly a jest but Alex still looked down at the pictures trying to see some familiarity. But nope, nada. She wasn’t the one with connections throughout the realm.

  She studied the faces laid out on the table. These men had killed the trueborn farmers, Darken had seen the proof. But there had to be more to it. And unless they dug up the truth, all shapers in Arcadia would suffer because of it.

  Releasing her breath, Alex made a decision. One she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

  “I don’t,” she said. “But I know someone who might.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE engine purred softly as Alex turned the key. Silence engulfed the car.

  Alex pressed her hands against the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, keenly aware of Darken’s presence beside her.

  After saying their goodbyes to Belaris, they had taken a magic-fueled coach out of Lancaester, but had quickly switched to a motorized halfborn car, to be less conspicuous.

  They had driven the seventy miles to Shelston in silence, talking only when absolutely necessary. Not that Alex wanted to talk—talking would likely only make things worse between them—but, damn it, the silence was nerve-wracking as well.


  Alex didn’t look at her co-pilot, instead she focused on at the undulating hills and sandy paths that stretched before them, dotted here and there with small, thatched cottages. Even here, inside the car, the tangy smell of fresh sea air filled her nostrils, slightly salty and bitter, its view hidden by the dunes. The smell said “peace” but her heart was in chaos.

  Finally, she blew a strand of hair out of her face and turned to Darken.

  “Rachel is very special to me.” There hardly were any words for how special. “And she isn’t a big fan of strangers.”

  Darken’s face didn’t betray any emotions, his deep voice completely flat. “Do you want me to wait in the car?”

  The fact that she actually considered saying yes, decided it for Alex. If she said yes, it wouldn’t be because of Rachel’s aversion to strangers, it would be because she didn’t want to be put on the spot. And that would be childish. They were adults, for Jester’s sake, and they could damn well behave like it. Also, if questions arose with regard to their “request,” Darken was way better suited to answer them than she was.

  “No, of course not. I was just … uh, you know what, never mind,” she muttered. “Let’s go.”

  Pulling off her ridiculous wig, Alex threw it onto the backseat, grabbed her tote bag, got out and locked the car.

  Together they made their way up the dirt path that led through coastal dunes, Alex front and Darken right behind her.

  A brisk wind tugged at their clothes, while seagulls drifted on the air currents overhead, their squabbling cries the only sounds besides the sibilant whisper of the long grass blades swishing in the breeze and the distant rumble of surging waves. The sun was slipping in and out of ragged white clouds, dappling the bristly green and gray vegetation with flecks of emerald and gold, adding to the rugged beauty of the landscape around them.

  Alex would have loved to stop and close her eyes to breathe it all in; but time was in short supply.

  After about half a mile, Alex veered from the well-beaten main path to a smaller trail and a couple of minutes later their destination appeared between the dunes.

  With profound relief, Alex noticed that the small cottage looked well cared for: the thatched roof was full, the white walls freshly painted, and the windows clean. Even a couple of hardy flowers were blooming beside the front door, glowing with cheerful blues and yellows in the sunshine.

  A low, moss-streaked wall of round gray stones bordered the house and a little garden on its right. Behind it, a woman was crouched over a patch of greens, working on the ground with a small rake. Long, snow-white hair fell down her back, liberally decorated with owl feathers and wooden beads and charms on leather cords. With the sleeve of her loose, flowery shirt, she absently wiped a strand of hair out of her face.

  Alex felt her heart warming at the familiar sight and her feet started to move faster of their own accord. Too long. It had been way too long.

  Although they were approaching downwind, when they were about a hundred feet from the house, the woman suddenly tensed. Her head snapped up. Bright, incredibly blue eyes focused on them. For a second, a mere breath, they flashed solid black. Then they were all blue again. Just a tiny slip, but Alex hadn’t missed it; she was pretty certain, neither had Darken.

  Grinning, Alex waved a hand in greeting.

  Dusting off her hands on her dirt-stained trousers, the woman rose to her feet and waved back, then vanished inside the house to meet them at the front door.

  Alex could feel Darken looking at her from the side. She increased her speed to avoid any questions.

  From close up the cottage looked even better. A bike leaned against the side of a little shed that crouched next to the entrance. It was slightly rusty in the frame, but the saddle was good, solid leather and it sported a—Alex looked twice—yes, a bicycle basket at its handlebar. In front of the entrance lay a doormat, showing a cartoon spider on a single black thread saying “thanks for swinging by.” Heh! Funny!

  As they neared the door, it opened and the woman stepped out into the sun. The white hair made her seem older, but her naturally fair skin, tanned from spending a lot of time outside, was tight and glowing, except for a couple of charming crow’s feet at the corners of her sharp, light-blue eyes. She could have been anywhere between forty and sixty, the latter being her real age. Her smile revealed straight, white human teeth.

  “Lexy!” She opened her arms and Alex didn’t hesitate to rush into the offered embrace.

  “Rachel.”

  She wrapped her arms around her friend and the other woman hugged her tightly, her grip much stronger than her appearance let on. Alex leaned into the hug, feeling some of the tension that had built up during the last few weeks drain away as if it was being absorbed by the other woman. Mother’s mercy and Jester’s grace, how she had missed Rachel.

  Finally, reluctantly, she let go and took a step back. Rachel’s smile was as warm as she remembered it.

  “What a nice surprise, Lex. It’s been quite a while.”

  A hot poker of guilt jabbed Alex right in the stomach. She dropped her gaze. It had been too long. And she had wanted to come before. Sweet Jester, she had. Just how often had she told herself she would make the trip and then found a convenient excuse not to make it? She had to work and on her free days she was too tired; she had no car and couldn’t afford the travel; plus, it was always a risk when more than one shaper was in the same place—which was true. There was always a good reason to postpone the visit, a reason why she couldn’t “find” the time. As if time was something you could actually go looking for! But the truth was, living in the Bin with all its hardships and struggles had been easy in certain ways; miserable at times, yes, lonely, and physically draining, but easy. And she hadn’t wanted to face Rachel’s disappointment—that she hadn’t made any effort to make friends and to connect. Rachel wanted better things for her in life and Alex saw no way she could ever live up to those expectations.

  “I know,” she said softly, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it earlier.”

  “Tch, don’t be silly, darling,” Rachel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I know the rules of laying low and singing small. Why, I taught most of them to you myself. So don’t burden yourself with guilt that is neither indicated nor desired on my part. You’re here now. That is all that matters.”

  Her attention shifted to Alex’s companion, who’d stood back, silent and dark, looking entirely out of place, too handsome, too dangerous, and simply too badass, for a lack of a better word. Alex suddenly wished she had insisted that he stay in the car.

  With a tiny sigh, she waved her hand between them. “Rachel. Darken. Darken. Rachel.”

  “Lady.” Darken respectfully tilted his head.

  “Hardly that,” Rachel replied with a bright smile. She turned to Alex and nudged her with her elbow. “He’s a polite boy. It’s about time you found yourself a new guy.” Then her eyes narrowed and she gave Darken a sharp once over. “Though I really hope he’s not such a scumbag as the last one.”

  Oh no!

  “It’s not like—” Alex said at the same time Darken asked with a silky growl, “What last one?”

  Alex shivered at the sudden chill in his voice and wanted to swallow her teeth.

  A deep crease formed between Rachel’s eyebrows. “Ah, she didn’t tell you, huh?” Her lips formed a displeased line and she shook her head. “A slop he was, that one. A real bugger.”

  “Rachel!” Alex hissed.

  Rachel ignored her. “First being all romantic and attentive, charming the heart out of her and promising her the moon and the skies. And then dumping her when he learned … well, you know how most males are: can’t handle a woman who’s got a little bite herself.”

  “Rachel, enough!”

  “Didn’t even have the decency to just ditch her,” she continued as if Alex wasn’t there. “No, he had to ruin her life, too!”

  “Rachel!” Alex snapped and stepped between them. “Would you please
stop it? We are not …”

  Rachel’s eyebrows crept up. “Uh-huh,” she said, looking from one to the other. “I suppose this is not a mere courtesy visit then?”

  Relieved to be able to change the subject but feeling even more guilty, Alex sighed. “I’m afraid it’s not.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean we have to linger on the doorstep, does it? Why don’t you come in, children? I’ll make us some tea and you can have some of the carrot cake I baked earlier today.”

  At this, Alex couldn’t help herself: she lost it and laughed. “Are you kidding me? You baked?”

  Rachel smirked a little as she led them down a small, cluttered hall, decorated with seashells and various charcoal drawings. “It seems I’ve discovered my passion for it.”

  They entered a small living room that inspired only one thought: cozy chaos. A pale driftwood table, surrounded by four different, overstuffed chairs stood next to a worn armchair with a cuddly blanket that overlooked the well-tended herb and vegetable garden. Different rugs overlapped each other on the floor. Every other spare space, including the rustic shelves lining the walls, was overflowing with books and maps. Several daggers hung from the walls between pencil drawings and other trinkets. In a glass cabinet with an ornate lacquered wooden backside were not crystal goblets or jewelry but an old sword in a scarred scabbard, a line of polished throwing stars, a gilded colt, and an assortment of sharpened knives. Plush and sharp knives. Oh yes, they were at Rachel’s place, alright.