Authors: Ashley Meira
Since I conjured it, the dagger didn’t feel cold in my hand, but it would be frozen to the touch for everyone else. Noah, however, didn’t seem bothered; his fingers wrapped around the crystalline hilt without a single demure blink.
The hand that took my wrist was as cold as the dagger should’ve been and served as a sharp contrast to the spark of heat that followed the first slice into my wrist. The pain vanished almost immediately – I’d been through so much crap this wasn’t any worse than a paper cut. I filed that away under “reasons to drink” right beside “because I want to” and took a deep breath to clear my mind.
“I need to let some blood out first, so–” he cut off, a secretive smile on his face as he watched my skin close up, leaving nothing but unmarred skin. Right, I forgot about that. Awkward.
“Is that supposed to happen?” asked Tomas. “That’s not supposed to happen. Mistress Zhen never did that. Well, she did, but that’s a vampire thing. And a demon thing. And definitely
not
a human thing. Are you healing yourself? Because that’s not–”
“I cut a vein,” said Noah, “and had to heal it; the knife’s temperature is rather distracting.”
He was lying. I would have noticed if he cut a vein. And by noticed, I meant “would have freaked out immensely and set his pretty hair on fire.” The explanation saved me from having to reveal my ability, however, so I wasn’t about to say anything.
He cut me again, making sure to avoid the same spot. This time, he kept the knife pressed against the wound. The others couldn’t see such an imperceptible movement without really looking for it, but
I
could definitely feel him making constant small cuts against the gash to keep it open.
That elevator silence blanketed us again. All eyes were on me, but I didn’t want to deal with the stares. Didn’t want to feel, much less see, them looking at me. Instead, I propped my head up with my free hand and focused blindly on the view outside, letting my hair create a wall between me and my voyeurs. Shame it couldn’t block Noah – seeing his face, even in my peripheral, made my head and heart hurt.
“There,” he said. The sight of my blood just sitting in that bowl should have unnerved me, but I was too frazzled to pay it much mind. “You can ask your questions now. I recommend a few test questions to start. I’d also like to reiterate that any truthful answer she gives is one she believes to be true, regardless of empirical fact.”
“Cool. I’ve always wanted to see if I could beat a lie detector,” I said. A drop of blood hit the puddle, sending ripples over the liquid. Still red. “See?”
None of them laughed. Jerks.
“Is your name Morgan Maxwell?” asked Flavius.
“Yes.” Red.
“Are you female?”
“No.” A drop of blood fell and the ripples sent waves of black over the gathered blood, making it look like ink. It stayed black for a three count before fading back to red.
“Where were you born?”
“Dovesport.” Red.
“Were you with Robert Franklin the night he was attacked?”
“Yes.” Red.
“Did you kill Robert Franklin?”
“No.” Red.
“Were you with Zhen Zhu-Li the night her estate burned down?”
I licked my lips. “Yes.” Red.
“Why?” Allison asked.
“She wanted the clothes I was wearing the night Robert was attacked.” Red.
“Was Julia there?”
“Yes.” Red. “I recognized her injuries as the ones I inflicted upon one of Robert’s assassins.” Red. Booyah.
“I see…” Flavius was silent for a moment. “Did you confront her?”
“No.” Red.
Please stop asking questions, please stop asking questions, please stop asking questions…
“Did you kill Zhen Zhu-Li or Julia?”
I let out an audible exhale and turned to Elise, whose lips were pursed tight. Despite my joke, this wasn’t a lie detector – I couldn’t just relax and fool the spell. For the first time in my life, I actually hated magic.
Flavius repeated the question, and Tomas sneered.
I barely heard him over my racing pulse. Fuck, could they hear it, too? “…No.”
My heart skipped a beat as I tore my eyes away from Elise to look at the bowl.
Red.
Holy sweet Jesus eating a hot sauce Christmas cake.
“Ask her again,” Tomas demanded, his face flushed. “She’s lying. Ask her again.”
This time, Allison repeated the question.
“No,” I said with more confidence.
Please, please, please…
Red.
I looked at Noah, but his eyes were trained on my wrist, his pupils so wide there was only the thinnest line of grey along the rim. That was when I realized I was bleeding in a room full of vampires, which put my self-preservation skills right up there with the dude who goes to investigate the strange sound in every horror movie ever created.
“All right, outside with me, kid,” said Jones as Tomas started spitting out expletives.
Flavius exchanged looks with Allison and waited until the door shut behind the pair before asking, “Did you kill Sergei Koskov?”
“No.” Red.
“What did you two discuss when he called you?”
“He wanted to discuss the murders.” Red.
“Is that all?”
Deciding not to press my luck, I decided to be as honest as I could. “He thought they could be related.” Red.
“Did he fear for his life?”
“He sounded scared.” Red.
“Did he tell you who might be coming after him?”
Well, he did mention he thought those Hudson bodies were connected, and since you’re probably involved in that… Plus, there’s the whole thing about your magical advisor trying to kill off the guy throwing really lavish parties with money that was probably yours…
“He was panicked and kept cutting off.” Red. Lies of omission were my favorite.
“That’s not an answer,” said Allison.
“Yes it is.” Red. “See?”
She huffed and crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous.”
“You’re the one who wanted a ‘neutral party’ to do this.”
“Do you have any siblings?” Noah asked. “Please lie.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he know about Tamlin? If he didn’t and I told the truth, he would know I had a sibling, another person whose safety he – or Lucas or whoever – could threaten to get to me. If I lied, he’d know- Wait, I was supposed to lie. But that would reveal the truth. So, I’d be lying and telling the truth. Oh my fucking God, this is such a mind fuck.
“…No.” Black.
“The spell is working, Miss Rollins,” he said. “She’s been telling the truth.”
“One last question, then,” said Flavius. “Were you behind the deaths of any parliament member?”
I took a deep breath. “No.”
Red.
Tomas would die. Or so I’d been assured. Flavius insisted on doing it himself when the angry boy failed Noah’s interrogation. I, having a sixth sense about when fuckwits were lying to my face, insisted on seeing him do it. But Flavius said it would be uncouth to make a spectacle out of an execution. I didn’t point out prisons already did that, and that vampires themselves never had a problem with public executions, especially concerning anyone who came after “important” people. And I certainly didn’t point out that Flavius was a giant, lying douchebag – he probably already knew that.
The odds of that little worm actually getting flambéed were slim to none. On the bright side, it proved Flavius knew a lot more than he was admitting. Well, “bright” may not be the right term. Maybe I should call Rowan and see if this is grounds to execute Flavius. Y’know, for being a shady sleazebag.
I wasn’t sure what Elise and Marcus had in mind now that Allison was the only parliament member left. Was there even anything left to do besides setting her and the king on fire? Hell, I’d be happy to do the honors. Sure, Flavius still had some shadow backers, but Marcus was used to dealing with that kind of shit. If he wanted, I’d be happy to kill those guys, too.
Therapy is looking more and more like a sound investment.
The king dismissed Jones while he and Allison went to “deal” with Tomas. Jones didn’t look happy at being waved off, but acquiesced with a bow and a “Yes, sir” that dripped with verbal ichor. Elise asked to see Sergei’s body, excusing herself once permission and his location had been given. That left me and Noah.
My curiosity overwhelming my need to set the Lucas clone on fire, I sat down and stared at him until my eyes bled. Or felt like they were. I think he would have said something if my eyes actually started bleeding. At least, he would have if he wasn’t calmly flipping through his book, completely oblivious to the witch trying to mentally dig into his skull. I considered doing it literally, but he may notice me forming an ice pick and run. Could he transform into a crow like Lucas?
“Can you shapeshift?” I blurted out.
“Yes,” he said without looking up. “Can you– Never mind.”
That would be cute if he wasn't so damn suspicious. “Who is Lucas?”
“I believe he is the creator of Star Wars.”
“Did you really just–” Why do villains insist on ruining humor for me? “Where did you get that talisman?”
“I made it,” he said, absently tracing the broken infinity symbol with his free hand.
“You’re being deliberately obtuse.”
That’s my job.
“Is that a question?”
“Do you know my mother?”
He froze for a moment so brief I wasn’t completely sure I hadn’t imagined it. “Potion masters with her skill carry no small renown. Plenty people know of her.”
“I didn’t ask if you knew ‘of’ her.”
“No, you didn’t.”
All right, it may be time for a new approach, like setting him on fire. “You never did tell me your last name.”
“Smith.”
“You’re lying.”
Finally, he looked up, his lashes casting soft shadows against his snow white cheeks as he let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. He tilted his head, maroon strands cascading over a covered shoulder. The action reminded me of Lucas, and I grimaced at the thought. “Then why ask? What about you? What’s your last name?”
“The difference is you already know my name.” I crossed my arms and legs. “Maxwell.”
“You don’t use Wallace?”
“If I did, I’d have said it.”
He closed his book and rested his chin on one hand. “What’s your favorite color? What kind of music do you enjoy? Which school of magic are you most partial to? Is there a–”
“At least I waited until you brushed off one question before starting in on another.”
“True.” Noah gave me a tender smile, and this time, it didn’t remind me of Lucas at all. “You remind me of her. A lot. She’s breezier, though. Rather, she
was
,” he finished with a wistful expression.
“You
do
know my mother.”
“You knew that,” he said. “Of course I know her.”
“Know? Present tense?” My heart flip flopped in my chest. “She’s alive?”
“She…she misses you very much,” he said, reaching for my hand.
I recoiled, annoyed at the flicker of guilt that struck me upon seeing his sad look. “Where is she? Why hasn’t she come to see me if she misses me so much?”
“It’s not safe. She–”
The door opened and Allison stepped in, sour milk expression in place. “It’s done. Tomas is dead.”
The way she narrowed her eyes at me told me it wasn’t quite done for her, but I figured my odds of getting shanked by brunette Barbie were slim to none. “Can I see the body?”
“It’s ash,” she said. “Flavius told me to offer you a ride home.”
“As tempting as that offer sounds,” I said, trying hard to keep my bitchiness at a minimum, “I think I’ll hitch a ride with Elise.”
“Fine.” The expression on her face was as close to happy as I’d ever seen. “She’s still sniffing around where Sergei was killed. I’ll take you there.”
I stole a quick look at Noah. “Just tell me where–”
“
I’ll take you there
,” she sneered. “Don’t you think it’s a little rude to reject your host’s kindness twice?”
There were so many things I wanted to say and do to her that I didn’t even know where to start. (Un)fortunately, Noah stood up and held his hand out.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Maxwell.”
Unable to think of a way to stay here short of searing my ass to the chair, I sighed and stood up. A small, smooth object was pressed into my palm as we shook hands, and Noah gave me a near imperceptible smile when I peered at him. With all these tiny little nuances I kept picking up on, I was beginning to wonder whether or not I was entirely delusional – was I actually in a straightjacket somewhere, screaming about vampires and werewolves?
I palmed the item, making sure Allison couldn’t see. “Lead the way.”