I try to push Pisces from my mind, which turns out to be impossible, but at least I’m able to force myself to focus. Maybe Grim is right. Maybe if I come clean, tell them what I know, things will work out. Maybe they’ll let me go since I cooperated.
As Grim was leading me out of the Dead Hearts townhome, handcuffed, Amelia stopped us, throwing her arms around me, despite Grim’s warning to keep her distance. She whispered into my ear, “Don’t say anything. I’ll get Liz. She’ll know what to do. Don’t say anything.”
Except, Liz hasn’t been allowed in to see me. In fact, the only person I’ve seen in the past several days is Grim and the fae that delivered my meals.
I was either in this interrogation room or in a locked room that served as a cell.
Today, apparently, will be different, though.
Someone knocks on the interrogation room door, a thick wooden door spelled to keep me inside, unless escorted back to my room. Grim gets up, opening the door for an older fae male, who walks in like he owns the place. Giving the room a once-over, the male settles into the chair Grim just vacated, wearing an expression that suggests he finds the room lacking.
It’s Yves Lyra, the head of the fae council and the man who nearly caught me with the song wraith in the hallway of his own estate.
“Sir,” Grim says, having closed the door and taken up a position standing next to Lyra.
“She still hasn’t said anything?” he asks, like he’s not looking directly at me from across the room.
“Nothing useful, no. But I’m sure with more time?—”
“No, no more time.” Lyra fixes me with a stern glare. “Tell us what we want to know, succubus. Tell us about this song wraith.”
Grim gives me a pleading look over Lyra’s head.
“I don’t know anything.”
Grim’s eyes fall, like I’m now past his help.
“We know you were working with the thing. And really, you should be more mindful. You’re already proving to the fae world that succubi aren’t up to the same moral standards as most Born fae. In fact, you’re acting like a Made fae.”
I glare at Lyra but say nothing. He can slander my character all he wants.
He watches me silently for a few moments and waves his hand dismissively. His legs are crossed and he’s reclined like he’s totally at ease here.
“What about this supposed bond?”
My glare changes subjects, moving to Grim. He should have kept his mouth fucking shut about that.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Lyra lets out a frustrated breath. “Come now, this bond that the siren mongrel thinks he has with you.”
I force myself to scoff, drawing a wide-eyed look from Grim. “A bond between me and a Made fae? It’s not possible, you know that.”
“You deny it?” Lyra presses.
“Of course I do. Made fae can’t bond. I see no rune in his eye. He’s probably lying. Like you said, Made fae and their lesser morals.” I hate myself as I say the words. My insides twist with guilt and shame. I don’t know what is between Pisces and I, but if it is a bond, Yves Lyra can never know about it. Alarm bells blare in my mind at the thought. Best case scenario, they’ll treat Pisces and me like a science experiment trying to figure this out. Worst case scenario… I won’t let my mind go there.
Grim’s mouth presses into a thin line, like he’s rethinking how he views me. It’s a twist of the knife in my stomach, but I press on.
“You might not have a high opinion of succubi, but I’m still Born fae. Born fae and Made fae are not meant to fall in love or bond. If we were, the stars would create bonds between our species.”
Lyra nods in agreement. “So you think he’s lying?”
“He has to be.” Stars, I’m going somewhere horrible in the afterlife for sure.
Lyra nods again, unfolding his legs and getting up out of the chair. “Well, that’s good news. See her back to her room. Perhaps she’ll feel like talking more about the wraith tomorrow.”
“Sir, I can assure you, I had no prior contact with such an abhorrent creature.” I’m laying it on thick, but maybe, just maybe, if he thinks my allegiance lies with him, he’ll let me go. Then I’ll find a way to free Pisces, somehow.
