“I think he had a thing for Caroline, but she didn’t return his feelings. I’m not sure what that has to do with his death though.”
I chewed my lip, trying to connect the dots. Crimes of passion were pretty common, but if Easton had no girlfriend, there went that theory. Plus, I couldn’t help but feel like his death was connected to today’s attack. “If we assume that the person from today is the same who killed Easton, then we can rule out any Unmarked as suspects.”
The water shut off, and the door opened, bringing a rush of humid air with it. The air shifted in front of me as Darcy reached for a towel. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and tried to focus on the issue at hand. “Is there a way to track the magic from today?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” His voice was muffled, probably pulling a shirt over his head. “But we can at least start by making a list of those with strong enough nature magic to have pulled off a stunt like today.”
“Do you have any idea who it could be?”
“No, do you?”
“No, I—” I cut off, remembering the man with the sunglasses. Could he be involved? I hadn’t seen him before that night at the club, and he’d had the silvery outline of the Marked. He was probably one of the Bingleys’ bodyguards.
“Did you think of something?” With Darcy out of the shower and the water no longer running, his voice was too close, too deep, too protective.
“I’m not sure.” I fought off another shiver and touched the blindfold reflexively. Being in the dark made me feel even more vulnerable.
“You can take off the tie now.”
I removed it slowly, giving him a few extra seconds to get fully clothed.
He took my hand in his strong one. “What did you think of a moment ago?”
“I might have an idea of someone.”
“Is it Riley?”
“What? No. Of course not. Riley would never hurt me.” I shook my head. “But there’s a man I’ve seen a few times. He was there that night at the club, and I saw him again at the festival. He’s Marked and may be connected to your group. At least, he was with the group who knew you were staying at Netherfield. And if he has weather magic, he’s probably fae.” I should’ve known to suspect a fae.
Darcy’s expression grew as stormy as the weather.
“I tried to catch him at the fair, but he got away and—”
“That’s why you took off? He could have killed you!” Darcy’s voice cracked, and fury raged in his eyes.
“But he didn’t.” I threw my shoulders back. “I’m not completely defenseless, you know.”
“That’s probably why he attacked you, because you chased after him yesterday.” Darcy’s strained breathing filled the limited space between us, and I struggled to read the emotions in his eyes. There was frustration, sure, that was nothing new, but there was something else.
Not wanting to go back to the earlier tension, I said, “Thanks for what you did.”
He blinked at me in surprise. Clearly, my thanks was the last thing he’d expected.
“I don’t know if I said it before, but I’m glad you were there.”
“I’m glad I was there too,” he muttered, some of the stress leaking from his expression.
We stood there for a moment in silence.
“Do you think Charles and Jane are back yet?” I asked.
Darcy let out a slow breath and opened the bathroom door. “They should be.” He smiled, and though it looked forced, at least he was trying. “We should find your sister. I’m afraid to think of what she might do to me if I kept you in here much longer.”
I laughed, the sound foreign after the stress from the last hour, then my eyes widened. “I didn’t know you could joke around.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” His eyes were hooded.
My stomach tightened, reminding me of how right he was. His not being a murderer answered one questionabout Darcy, but there were still a hundred more demanding attention. Unsure what to do, I changed the subject. “Jane is far too sweet to hurt anyone.”
