Grave Destiny Page 3

  Well, wasn’t that nice. I had the trust of the court of secrets and shadows. What did that say about me? “Tell me about the case. This is murder, I’m guessing, but what details do you have?”

  “We need a binding agreement before I can tell you that.”

  “No.” I didn’t hesitate or waver. I wasn’t getting into any binding agreements with a fae without all the details up front. If that meant passing on the case, so be it. It was definitely safer not to work for a Faerie court anyway, regardless of how badly Tongues for the Dead needed a case or if it would put my father in my debt. There would be other cases. And I’d find another way to reach the planeweavers in the high court.

  I began to stand. Dugan’s hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist. His skin was smooth, cool, and his grip solid, but not painful. “Do not dismiss me yet. We can negotiate.”

  Outside the privacy bubble, Falin had his weapon in hand again—likely in response to Dugan grabbing me. I held up a palm, stalling him, but I looked pointedly at where Dugan’s hand was locked around my wrist. He dropped it without comment. I didn’t sit back down, but I also didn’t turn off my charm and walk away. It was a dangerous game to negotiate with fae, but at least I had the upper hand in this case—Dugan wanted something from me, but I didn’t need anything from him.

  “Where is the scene and the bodies?”

  Dugan hesitated so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer, but finally he said, “Not in the shadow court.”

  “Then where—?” I started, and his eyes flickered toward where Falin hovered just beyond the privacy bubble. “The winter court?” I asked it in a whisper, despite my confidence in my charm. “You want me to investigate bodies in the winter court?”

  His nod was sharp, quick, but definite.

  “And do you know who the bodies are, er, were? Members of your court?”

  He leaned forward, closer toward me, but as I was still standing, that made for an awkward angle. He obviously came to the same conclusion because a moment later he stood in one effortless movement. That put us too close together, the space between the chairs narrow so that we were nearly touching.

  “How far does the spell extend?” he asked, looking as uncomfortable as I felt.

  “Not far. Let’s just both sit.”

  He nodded, looking relieved once we both dropped back into our chairs. At least I wasn’t the only one that seemed unnerved. He might consider himself my betrothed, but we were virtual strangers.

  “The bodies?” I prompted.

  “We are uncertain. We believe we know one identity. He was a goblin named Kordon. But we are under the impression there are two bodies. As we have not been able to visit the scene directly—for obvious reasons—we are not certain of the affiliation of the second deceased.”

  Two bodies. Maybe. In the winter court. I started to shake my head but caught the motion, not wanting Dugan to think I was dismissing the case out of hand. “So, was your court member an intruder or victim?”

  His lips twitched, the movement subtle and quickly erased, his expression returning to a guarded neutral so fast I wasn’t sure I actually saw it. Surprise? Anger? Annoyance? I wasn’t sure, and when he answered his voice held no inflection. “We did not send him to winter.”

  Which didn’t answer the question. Just because he wasn’t sent didn’t mean he hadn’t been there for nefarious reasons. Of course, it also didn’t exclude that he might have been kidnapped and held in winter before his death. Those were pretty important differences. It did explain why Dugan was interested in me documenting anything I could at the scene, though, as obviously his people were unlikely to gain access. Not that I had access. What was I supposed to do, walk up to the Winter Queen and say, Hey, I heard you have some bodies in your halls. I’d like to remove them and have a chat with their shades. Yeah, that would not go over well.

  Movement outside our bubble of privacy caught my attention. Falin pulled his cell phone from his pocket and glanced at the display before answering. He never took his eyes off us as he listened to the person on the other side of the line.

  “Do you have a suspect?” I asked, focusing on Dugan again.

  The lip twitch made it all the way to a frown before he caught it this time. “Possibly.”

  “And that would be . . . ?”

  He frowned at me, not answering. So much for trust.

  “I’m not going to agree to take a case you can’t give me a straight answer about. You want the shades raised and questioned and you can get them to the mortal realm, then sure, I’m your girl. We can sign a contract right now and set a time for the ritual. But you’re talking about investigating deaths in the winter court—which it doesn’t sound like you are in any position to even clear a path for me to investigate. That’s not the type of case I work. If there is nothing else . . .” I pushed to my feet again.

  He studied me. “I’m not going to insult you by telling you we would pay very well for your time—though we will. But perhaps I can appeal to your compassion—” he started, but he didn’t get the chance to finish.

  I saw Falin pocket his phone from the corner of my eye, and though we couldn’t hear what had been said—the privacy bubble went both ways—something must have alerted Dugan because he fell silent. There was a sudden explosion of movement from both men. Dugan jumped to his feet, knocking me back into my chair in the process. The sword that had been hidden under his glamour was in his hands before he finished turning.

  My back, just at my shoulder blades, slammed in the back of the chair, and then the entire chair rocked back, sending me crashing to the ground. I yelped as the air escaped my lungs, but the room had gone still again. Falin stood with his gun pointed at Dugan’s head, Dugan with his blade pressed against Falin’s throat. A twitch from either fae would have been deadly.

  “Stop, both of you,” I yelled as I tried to detangle myself from the fallen chair.

  They didn’t so much as glance in my direction. Of course, I hadn’t deactivated my spell, so they couldn’t actually hear me. Nor could I hear anything they were saying to each other. That was bad.

  I pulled the magic out of my charm, canceling it.

  “Drop the sword,” Falin said, keeping his gun trained right between Dugan’s eyes. It didn’t matter how fast the prince might be; at that distance, Falin couldn’t have missed.

  “No,” was the shadow fae’s only response. If Falin twitched, Dugan would have sliced through his throat.

  “Stop,” I yelled again, finally extracting myself from the chair.

  I might as well have left my privacy spell in place for all the attention they paid me.

  I didn’t have much in the way of offensive or defensive magic—I possibly could have pulled their weapons through planes of existence and made them inoperable, but I couldn’t have done it quickly. So I went for showy shock value instead.

  Dropping my shields, I opened myself to the land of the dead. Every inanimate thing around me decayed—at least in my vision. I wasn’t merging planes, only looking at them, so that was something only I could see. The frigid wind that whipped out from the land of the dead was real enough, though. It tore across the room, causing the small stack of papers on my desk to shuffle across the surface. My curls whipped around my face, stinging my suddenly icy cheeks. No one I’ve met enjoys the clammy touch of the grave. Fae, being long-lived enough to be nigh-immortal, tended to react to the wind extra poorly. It hit the two men at the same time. Both were too well trained to jump, but I saw the tension tighten in Dugan’s back and Falin’s eyes narrow. Both broke their staring match of death to glance at me.

  At the edge of my vision, I saw something dark skitter in the corner of the room. Something not in the mortal realm, but one of the others I could touch. I slammed my shields closed again—after all I wasn’t protected by a circle, and besides, the shock value I’d been going for had worked. Now
to use the momentary distraction.

  “Back off, both of you. No one is killing anyone in my office. Ms. B would have a fit over the mess.”

  Dugan blinked at me. Falin almost smiled.

  “Now what the hell is going on?” I asked, leaning down to straighten the toppled chair.

  “Bodies were found in the frozen halls,” Falin said. He may have glanced at me, but he hadn’t lowered his weapon.

  Neither had Dugan.

  “And one of them is from the shadow court,” I said, already knowing the answer.

  Falin gave the tightest nod. “Pretty convenient timing for the prince to show up here, in the middle of winter territory, with no one sure how he crossed over from Faerie.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m actually here trying to prevent war. Not make it,” Dugan said, his sword pressed hard enough against Falin’s throat that the smallest trail of blood had crept down to the collar of his white shirt.

  I frowned. “Threatening my friends with decapitation is not a good way to prevent war. Drop the sword.”

  “And be dragged before the Winter Queen by this fledgling knight? No.”

  They stared at each other. I wanted to scream at both of them. Instead I took a deep breath and let it out before saying in as calm a tone as I could force, “Prince Dugan, to your knowledge, did the fae found in winter’s territory have orders to be there given by you or the king?”

  “No.”

  “Falin, to your knowledge, did the Winter Queen give orders to have the shadow fae found in her halls brought there and killed?” I didn’t actually know the answer to this one, so it was a gamble, but my gut said that even if she had, he wouldn’t have that information.

  He answered without hesitation, though he ground out the word between clenched teeth. “No.”

  “So you are trying to kill each other because . . . ?”

  “The shadow court has been deemed a potential threat and probable enemy. The prince’s conspicuously convenient timing has made him a suspect, so open roads no longer protects him.”

  Great. “Safe passage can be terminated that quickly? He doesn’t even get a chance to get out of a now-hostile territory?”

  “Not when suspected of violating the goodwill of the court allowing open roads.”

  “Do you have direct orders from the queen to bring him in?”

  A muscle in Falin’s jaw worked. This was a precarious path, but only a direct command from the queen, in her own voice, was binding. As Faerie didn’t have cell phones and she didn’t leave the court often, I was guessing he’d spoken to some other fae. Which meant there might be a little leeway in this situation.

  Falin didn’t answer, which was answer enough. No. He had no direct commands.

  “Fine. Then you’re not arresting anyone in my office. Think of this as neutral ground.”

  Falin scowled. “This is still winter’s territory.”

  So killing each other in the middle of my office was the solution? I had to defuse this situation.

  “Do you want me to try to pull part of the shadow court into this room so he isn’t in winter territory?” I asked, holding up my hands.

  Falin’s gaze darted to my lifted fingers. I wore gloves, but he was familiar with the scars they hid and how they had happened—he’d not only been there when I’d gathered strands of Faerie to create a small net of it in the human realm, but he’d supplied some of the needed strands of Faerie that I’d used. He also knew that “try” was a very key word in my sentence. I probably could use the shadows in the room to make a pocket of Faerie, but as I’d be fumbling blindly, there was no telling how much damage I’d do to myself and reality in the process.

  Falin’s jaw clenched, and the moment stretched long enough that I was afraid I’d have to follow through with my threat. Then he said, “I suppose I could agree to a mutual truce until we both walk out of this building.”

  A flash of surprise flickered at the edges of Dugan’s face, gone a moment later. He didn’t lower his sword. “A binding oath?”

  “You obviously knew about the bodies before we did, as that appears to be what you were discussing with Alex. What reassurances can you give me that this is not an attack on the winter court?”

  “I could demand the same. It is our courtier who is dead in your halls.”

  “Damn it, both of you,” I said. “Are you seriously too stubborn to accept any alternative but killing each other?”

  Dugan glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “It’s not that we’re too stubborn. It’s that we are too proud. But you do have a point . . .” He lifted his thumb to his blade and opened a small slit across his flesh. “By my blood, I swear I will do you no harm unless I need to defend myself until we both leave this building, as long as you swear the same.”

  Falin glared at him for several seconds. Then he reached up and swiped some of the blood trickling down from the wound in his throat. “By my blood, I swear I will do you no harm unless I need to defend myself—or defend Alex”—he tilted his head in my direction—“until we both leave this building.”

  The air seemed to zing as the last words left his mouth. Both men immediately dropped their weapons, the oath preventing them from continuing to threaten each other. Falin stepped back, holstering his gun. Dugan’s sword vanished under his glamour again. He smiled at the other man.

  “Well, perhaps once we step outside, you’ll leave your little gun behind and duel me properly, like a true warrior,” the prince said, rolling his shoulders back. They had to be sore after holding that killing pose so long.

  Falin scowled. Their oath not to harm each other clearly didn’t extend to verbal jabs.

  “Prince Dugan, you were going to appeal to my compassion, I believe,” I said, forcing myself to sit. My body felt too tense, too flooded with adrenaline, but I tried to at least look calm as I crossed my legs in the chair. “So there is a dead shadow courtier in the halls of the winter court?”

  Both men nodded.

  “And the second body belongs to . . . ?”

  “A winter noble,” Falin said, his gaze never leaving Dugan’s face, as if searching for signs of guilt. For his part, Dugan gave away nothing at the news, though I knew from what he’d said earlier that he hadn’t known the identity of the second fae. “Currently it appears our noble was assassinated, but he fatally wounded his killer before he died.”

  I cringed. That definitely sounded bad for the shadow courtier.

  “The queen requests us both in court immediately,” he said, turning to me.

  Requested. Right. More like I had no choice. But we couldn’t leave yet. The moment both men left my office, their oath would be complete and they would likely attempt to kill each other. At least one would most certainly succeed. While I would be sad if Dugan died, in the same way someone would be sad when anyone was killed, the idea of Falin getting injured hurt something deep inside me. It was the difference between dragging someone out of the way of a bullet, and being willing to take that bullet for them. Which meant I had to find a way to ensure there was a more encompassing truce between the men before we left this building.

  “I’m assuming she wouldn’t ask for me to be there if it were truly that clear-cut?” Though she might. She had a grave witch in her territory, an independent fae who couldn’t ignore her summons—why wouldn’t she use my magic when bodies showed up in her hall. I wasn’t the most knowledgeable about fae laws—I’d only found out I was fae about half a year ago—but from what I understood, as the ruler of the territory I resided in, the queen could demand my presence, but she couldn’t force me to use my magic. Oh, she could find a creative reason to have me tortured, I’m sure, but I was Sleagh Maith, the noble line of Faerie, and that awarded me certain rights.

  Dugan had been silently studying us—or perhaps simply digesting the implications of what Falin had said—but now he cr
ossed his arms over his chest and said, “I am already in the middle of negotiations with Alexis. I hold a prior claim to her investigating these deaths.”

  Falin visibly bristled. “Being granted a consultation does not award you any claims on a winter resident.”

  This was getting us nowhere.

  “You want me to investigate this to what end?” I asked, looking at Dugan.

  “To the end of preventing a war, as I said earlier.” He hesitated, a frown etching itself deep as he studied my face. He seemed to come to some conclusion because he continued by saying, “With the solstice tomorrow, winter is heading into the peak of her power. King Nandin would not appreciate my candor, but the truth is that if war were to start now, it would be very poor timing for our court. I do not wish to risk the wrath of winter in her prime. I honestly did not expect the knight to find me here, and certainly not so quickly. I would not have risked this conversation in this manner had I known it appeared our fae assassinated a noble.”

  “You didn’t know?” Falin sounded skeptical. “And yet you clearly knew about the deaths before we did.”

  Dugan gave him a half shrug. “Even the icy halls of the winter court have shadows, and shadows will whisper their secrets to those who listen.” He lowered himself into the chair across from me, his expression distant, thoughtful. “But I’m not sure if it was luck or design that we heard about the deaths. We heard nothing about how, why, or by whom the fae were killed. We knew only that our fae was dead in your halls, and that one way or another, he shouldn’t have been there.”

  I turned to Falin. “Do you know anything more?”

  “Not that I’ll share in present company.”

  No shock there. But not helpful. I also had to wonder how my father tied into all of this. The deaths had to be the case he’d mentioned, though who had he expected would approach me? Had he known Dugan had entered Nekros? Or did he anticipate the Winter Queen’s summons? She’d called for me before when a body had turned up in her court. But how had he known about the bodies in the first place?