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She pulled out a card with a flourish. I snatched it out of her hand and frowned down at it. It was a police academy student badge. I grinned up at her. “You’re really doing it?”
“Yep. I magically got in on my first try, almost like my best friend’s dad is kind of investing heavily in Singsong’s police force for some reason.”
I flinched. “Good old Singsong. Everybody wants it.”
She checked her phone. “It’s almost time for your private tutor to come, so I’ll take off.”
I pointed my fork at her. “You have been coming here on your lunch breaks. Have you told your mom what you’re doing yet?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s just say that I’ve been visiting you in the hospital a lot more than you know about.”
I shook my head. “Karma will kill you.”
She grinned and waved, then headed out, almost bumping into my private tutor, who was slotted to come directly after lunch for my second session of grueling classwork. My tutor sat down in the chair Rynne had just vacated and put a stack of books next to me on the bed. “Your betrothed suggested several other excellent references for you to read while you’re so conveniently laid up.”
I scowled at Mrs. Hanley, who had been given the job of my tutor when she asked for it. She had apparently done a very thorough job ripping apart Scott into such tiny pieces, he’d never get put back together again. They were in jars locked away in the Scholar’s lab, because a demonized gargoyle was a novelty that they had to watch to make sure it didn’t develop into something new and terrifying, a virus for instance, that could infect other gargoyles, triggering some kind of zombie/gargoyle apocalypse.
“What else did he say that I could do while I was so ‘conveniently’ laid up?” I asked, crossing my arms. My ribs were so tender, because I’d broken one, and cracked two others. Ribs took forever to heal.
“He said to enjoy your rest, because you are going to be too busy to rest once you’re out of here.”
I sighed and opened the first book. Why couldn’t Percy of No Mercy come and deliver my messages himself? I hadn’t seen him for eight days. If Rynne could stop by every day at lunch while balancing school and the police academy, then he could give me a few minutes.
My dad would come by around five thirty and we’d talk about what I was learning, and how the city was doing, and how my mom was recovering while we ate dinner, and then he’d leave me alone for the night, bored enough to read the dry magic text that always put me right to sleep.
My mom was still in intensive care, but she’d be moved out today. Scott had broken her back, but it looked like she’d have a complete recovery. Still, I walked down to her floor every day to look in the window for a long time, hand pressed against the glass while I tried to give her healing vibes and prayers.
She had the best surgeons and healers working on her, so it’d be a miracle if she didn’t survive, but I was still anxious for her to wake up and yell at me for breaking my wrist. I’d shattered it, multiple fractures on most of the bones. Still, I had no regrets.
I was sitting there, trying to understand the complicated lecture about the intervals between words and intonation that were the base of certain kinds of magic, when the door opened and in walked the vampire from the alley. She wasn’t alone, because why wouldn’t I want to see the cat shifter guy?
He had her in handcuffs, and looked around the room nervously, like there were ninjas hiding behind the lush cream drapes with the awesome view of Singsong’s skyline.
“We’re here for the murder weapon,” he said, frowning at Mrs. Hanley for a moment before fully focusing on me.
“Sorry, what?” I asked, completely confused.
“The red dagger of souls. She said that she gave it to you. Where is it?” He made it sound kind of serious.
“Oh, that weapon. I shattered it. I have the handle somewhere. Mrs. Hanley, is the knife handle still in the library?”
She stared at me and then frowned at the Sphinx like she disapproved of his plaid as much as she disliked his accusations. “You will need a search warrant and a police order if you’d like to speak to the Bellham heir.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s fine, but the knife isn’t going to have prints other than mine, and the blade is toast. Sorry,” I told the vampire, in case she’d wanted it back. She’d given me a really good deal on a really great weapon.
“How did you break it?” she asked, head cocked, eyes bright and cheerful.
“I killed a demon gargoyle with it,” I said.
Mrs. Hanley hissed, because the fact that gargoyles could be corrupted was supposed to be on a need-to-know basis, but I, for one, had different views on the topic, and so I’d tell anyone who asked the truth, because no group should be idealized to the point that when they fall, no one saw it coming.
“Why did you kill it?” she asked.
I pursed my lips. Most people would know why as soon as you put the word ‘demon’ out there. “I had to kill him to save my mom, the city, and my betrothed.” Yes, I did use that word for Percy of No Mercy, even if he didn’t come and visit me, ever.
She nodded and turned to smile at the cat shifter. “There is no proof.”
“No proof that you were forced to murder those victims. All we have is your testimony, and we all know how the testimony of vampire murderers goes over with a jury. Maybe there are fragments of the curse on the knife.”
