Avery’s eyes narrowed. “You said Eira Goff also passed from heart failure?”
“Just a few days prior to Valentina’s death.”
“We need to see that body,” said Avery.
“Funeral is in two days.”
“Would it be possible to arrange for me to accompany you?”
“Ooh, very romantic,” Esteri chimed in at last, which gained her one befuddled look from Saga and a glare from Avery. “I joke,” she explained,but no one laughed. She stood with a forced smile. “I’m going to go get some balm for your hand.”
They both watched her leave before Saga continued. “Two days is too long to wait.”
“We won’t be merely waiting. Valentina’s personal items should be delivered today—I need to look through them. You may be able to ask your aunt about Eira’s family, and then there is another lead we unfortunately need to chase down.”
“What lead?”
Avery leaned back into the couch, took a deep drink of her tea, and sighed. “The Addler.”
Saga raised a quizzical pink eyebrow. “Like a snake?”
“No,” Avery dismissed grimly. “An adder would be less dangerous.Thiscreature…” She took another deep, measured breath. “She gets inside your head, makes you dizzy, and confused; muddles everything until you can’t make sense of any of it. Sheaddles.”
Saga watched Avery, taking in her posture: her averted gaze, her stiff muscles, the way her grip on her teacup tightened. Realization dawned. “Oh.”
Avery’s head snapped back immediately, denial coming far too hastily. “Don’t ‘oh.’ Thereisno ‘oh.’” She spat her words, and her body twisted away from Saga now.
“Denial, mood swing, a light flush of the cheeks.” Saga inhaled through her teeth and leaned toward the other woman. “I mean, it reallyfeelslike there’s an ‘oh.’”
“Well, there isn’t,” said Avery with too much clipped finality.
“Isn’t what?” Esteri asked, returning with a small jar that she held out to Avery before nestling back down in her chair.
“Avery is pretending she doesn’t have a crush,” Saga explained.
Something shifted in Esteri’s eyes, but it wasn’t mischievous. She took a deep breath and relaxed her face, wiping it of emotion. “Is this about Iona?” The tulikettu clearly had strong opinions on thisIona, but neitherher expression nor tone were entirely forthcoming on revealing what those were.
“No.” Again, Avery was too quick to answer to look anything but guilty.
“She’s incorporated now, you know.”
The curiosity in Avery’s eyes was undeniable. “Incorporated…what?”
“Revenge. She’s got a whole business. Great big fancy office in Knightsbridge.”
A look passed between Saga and Avery, the office’s location not lost on either of them, though Saga noted the wariness in Avery’s eyes. Did this mean this woman Avery clearly had some sort of complicated feelings toward was not just a lead—but a suspect? “Valentina’s tattoo.”
Avery gave a curt nod, cleared her throat again, and busied herself with applying the balm to her hand. “Have cults gone out of fashion, then?”
Esteri watched her with keen eyes. It was strange how such a bright, unnaturally saturated shade could seem so critical. “The idea is much the same, now they just charge you for it and call it capitalism.” She brushed something off her knee with a casual gesture, but her sharp gaze never faltered. “I don’t think she’ll want to see you though.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Avery growled the words as she worked the balm into her skin so firmly Saga was worried she might bruise herself.
Saga leaned over to try to catch Avery’s expression. “Is it?” Her voice pitched up in doubt.
“It doesn’t matter,” Esteri dismissed. “You’d need an appointment to get in, and the only way you’d be granted one is if you’d been deeply wronged and are karmically due for recompense.”
Avery closed the balm and set it down—Saga could see her right hand had returned to its normal shade, not a sign of irritation or rash in sight. “People like me are literally referred to and treated as an invasive poisonous weed among Otherworld citizens.”
