I blew out a shaky breath, and Darcy looked at me sharply.
“I’m not going to touch you, you know.”
“Despite my bewitching eyes?” It wasn’t fair to tease him about something he said under the influence of the veritas potion, but it helped cover my nerves.
A faint blush darkened Darcy’s cheeks above his scruff, and somehow his nerves made my own dissipate a little, at least until my thoughts flashed back to our kiss. Although Darcy stood for everything I despised, somehow it hadn’t been terrible. It had set me on fire, and even now a piece of me still burned.
I shoved the thought away. That was something I’d never tell, not even to Jane.
“Let’s get ready for bed.” Darcy’s tone made it sound like he was saying “Let’s get ready for the guillotine,” which, strangely enough, also made me feel a little better.
We walked to the bathroom in silence. The dark blue towels matched his bedroom and contrasted with thebathroom’s dove gray walls. A large shower took up a quarter of the room, and my face heated as I took it in.
Darcy handed me a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants he pulled from his closet—thankfully, our magical handcuff didn’t keep us from changing our shirts—and my face heated again as I slipped his soft cotton T-shirt over my head. I tamed my chocolate brown hair into a braid for the night to keep it from being too wild in the morning, then followed Darcy back into his room. Side by side, we stared at the four-poster for a moment, then Darcy sighed. He turned the lamp off, pulled the covers down, and gestured for me to climb in first.
The sheets were silky and smooth, and I scooted as far into the bed as I could before extending my right hand as far as it could go to maximize the distance between us. Darcy climbed in after me, and after a few seconds of rustling as we both settled into place, silence descended.
The faint tick of a clock in the hall crept under the closed door and filled the space between us. I was pretty sure I’d never been stuck in a more ridiculous situation than this in my entire life.
I nestled deeper into Darcy’s sheets, breathing in his scent—a mixture of his cologne and nature, like the sharp scent of pine or the fresh scent of the ocean with that spicy scent of cardamom.
The smell brought back the memory of our kiss with force, and heat rushed to my cheeks. Thank goodness it was dark.
“How did you know I was with Easton when he died?” His voice, like the rest of him, was too near, especially once he turned on his side so he was facing me.
“So you prefer to be on the giving end of the inquiry?”
He chuckled, the sound nothing more than a low rumble. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll trade an answer for an answer.”
I weighed my options. “An honest answer?” Unlike some of the silly rumors in books, faecouldlie, but what they couldn’t do was get out of their word. Once a fae agreed to something, it was as good as an iron-clad promise, which was fitting since iron was another of their weaknesses.
“Yes.”
“So it’s a deal?”
“It is.”
I smiled. In a world where people’s promises meant almost nothing, fae reliability was refreshing. Not that I would ever say that to one of them, especially since you still couldn’t let your guard down when dealing with them. They could tell you the truth and still leave you confused.
“About a week ago, I saw a Portent of you and Easton arguing, and the next thing I knew, you hit him with magic and he died.” I sucked in a breath at the memory.
“And that’s why you thought I killed him?” Darcy must have already been familiar with Portents since he didn’t ask.
I tsked at him. “It’s my turn now.”
“Fair enough.” His teeth glinted in the moonlight as he flashed a smile.
There were so many questions about the murder I’d been dying to ask, but now that I knew he wasn’t the killer, I shifted focus to another question that had been bugging me. “If you didn’t kill Easton, why did you use your magic on him?”
“I could tell he was unwell.”
I bit my lip, thinking back to the Portent. Easton had been pale and sweaty, but I’d thought he was nervous. Had he already been sick with something?
“Why didn’t you go straight to the police about what you saw in your Portent?” Darcy asked.
I bit my lip and turned away from his probing green gaze. That was one question I didn’t want to answer, but I still needed info from Darcy. Maybe I’d keep it short like he had. “The Marked in town don’t trust my family’s fae powers.”
“I see,” he murmured.
