Who was he?
Jane burst into the room.
“Lizzy!” Her wide-eyed gaze roved over me. “Are you okay?”
“I hurt my foot.” Another bolt of pain shot through my ankle, and I winced. It was probably sprained. Stupid heels. This was not the impression I’d been hoping to make tonight.
Charles’s attention swiveled to my sister, and his mouth dropped open. The man behind me shifted but said nothing. Even though I couldn’t bring myself to look at him again, I sensed his gaze on me like a physical touch.
Jane hurried forward and wrapped an arm around my waist, not looking anywhere but at me. “Let’s get you home.”
I leaned against her, my instincts warring with each other. I wanted to escape this room and these men whom I hoped to never meet again unless I first had the chance to work a memory charm on them. But I also wanted answers. Charles Bingley was exactly who I’d been hoping to find tonight. Just not like this.
“I feel terrible that you were injured. Please let me help.” Charles tore his gaze from Jane to flick a glance over my shoulder at the man behind me. After a brief pause, heshifted his attention to me. “Would you allow me to heal your ankle?”
While all fae could heal to a degree, according to the articles I’d read, healing was Charles’s specialty.
“If it isn’t too much of an imposition. And if it is, maybe we can pretend otherwise.” I gave him a small grin and shuffled forward, but the distance did little to free me from the gravitational pull of the man behind me. Why hadn’t he said anything else? Was he as embarrassed as I was that I’d fallen into his lap?
Jane glanced at Charles, and her arm around my waist tightened. I jostled her arm to snap her out of it. She smoothed her expression but still didn’t look away from Charles. Thankfully, he didn’t notice as he bent to touch my injured ankle.
His magic, as blue as the shirt he wore, seeped through my heels. Coolness flowed from the spot like someone had spread Icy Hot across my skin. After a few seconds, the magic sank in and the sensation faded along with the pain.
I glanced at Charles, gathering my composure around me like a cloak. I was a reporter, not some awkward schoolgirl. “Thank you. That’s impressive healing magic.”Finally, I forced myself to face the second man, who’d stepped into the light. “Do you—”
My mouth fell open as I took in the black curls. Those flashing green eyes and firm lips pursed in a scowl. No wonder I’d recognized his voice.
It was the fae from my dream—the killer.
Chapter 4
“Doyoubothspecializein healing?” I hurried to finish my sentence to cover my reaction.
The unknown fae hesitated for a moment and ran a hand through his defiant black curls. “Yes.”
It hadn’t looked like healing magic that he’d used on Easton. Had he lied about his specialty to cover up the murder? Unless it was possible to use healing magic to kill.
I fixed him with a tight stare, although I had to tilt my head back to do it.
He did the same, scrutinizing me with his bright green eyes—eyes one could get lost in while he slowly killed you.
Charles clapped the brooding guy on the shoulder, even though his gaze lingered on Jane. “Well, Darcy, it would appear that our friend here fell for you at first sight—so much so that she landed right in your lap.”
“No,” I blurted and looked down at my feet even as my mind latched onto that scrap of information. The killer’s name was Darcy. “I mean, I’m sorry for falling on you. We really should go.”
Looking for answers was one thing, but putting us into direct contact with the murderer was something I hadn’t planned for, especially with Jane around. I couldn’t get her tangled up in this.
“Wait.” Charles put a hand on Jane’s arm, who inhaled sharply. “I still haven’t introduced myself,” he continued. “My name is Charles Bingley.”
“I’m Jane Bennet, and this is my sister, Lizzy.” Jane met his gaze with a small smile and played with a lock of hair. I fought to keep my mouth from falling open. Whether she realized it or not, Jane only played with her hair when she was flirting.
Now really wasn’t the time for flirting.
“Would you”—Charles cleared his throat and held out a hand—“dance with me?”
“Of course.” Jane let go of my arm.
“Jane… ” I swallowed my next words. On second thought, if Jane was with Charles in the middle of the dance floor, she’d be safe, and that would give me a chance to get information from the other fae—Darcy.
