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“There’s another problem,” I say. “Some of the people I suspect didn’t attend your meeting.”
“Kain thought of that also. All but Eduardo”—she points at a highlighted section on the top paper—“were in the company of fellow Council members at the time of the murders, so you can clear multiple people for the price of one alibi.”
“I already know what Eduardo was doing, or at least what he said he was doing.”
“Kain mentioned your difficulties with his werewolf nature.” Her forehead creases in a concerned frown. “What will you do?”
“I figure I’ll start with the others and leave him for last. The more people I clear, the worse he looks, right?”
“Makes sense. Well, if you’re ready, how about we—”
There’s a knock on the door.
“Yes?” Kit asks in my voice.
“It’s Nina,” says a familiar voice.
“Come in,” Kit says, fully transforming into me.
Nina walks in. Her gaze flits between Kit and me. “With all this waking up in the middle of the night, I guess I should be grateful I’m not seeing triple.”
“Thank you for your vote,” Kit says, still as me. “You’re one of the good ones.”
Nina heaves an exasperated sigh. “Can whichever one of you is Kit give us privacy?”
I look at Kit, and Kit looks at me.
“I can do this all day,” I say.
Kit pouts.
“What I have to say wouldn’t interest you that much, anyway,” Nina says reassuringly.
Kit’s pout gets poutier.
Nina raises her hand. “I solemnly swear we’re not going to Netflix and chill without you.”
“Fine.” Kit trudges toward the door. “Be like that.”
“If you leave looking like me, Firth might try to kill you,” I say to Kit’s back.
Her nails grow to the size of talons. “In that case, I’m definitely not changing. Might be fun to see him try.”
Outside the door, I hear Filth say something nasty. Before I can figure out if he’s calling me a B- or a C-word, a thud stops his rant in its tracks. In the silence come heavy footsteps.
Nina rolls her eyes. “I wonder if she turned into Colton or some orc.”
“Anything’s possible with her.” I tilt my head, studying Nina. “I think I know why you came.”
She sits on the edge of the bed. “Kain said you cleared me already, which means you’ve been into my dreams.”
“I did and I have.” I draw in a breath. “And I saw the black windows.”
“So you did. Do you mind?” She points at one of my water bottles.
“Not at all.”
Before I can get up and give her a bottle, she uses telekinesis to make it fly into her hand. Swiftly, she drains it and then sits, chewing on her pierced lip.
“You came to me,” I remind her as the silence wears on.
She floats the water bottle back. “Sorry. This isn’t easy.”
I smile reassuringly. “Just start somewhere, see how it goes.”
She fiddles with her nose ring. “I’m Leal’s dead man’s switch.”
“You’re what?”
She takes a deep breath. “I allowed Leal to make it so that if he dies, I’d know damaging information about his killer.”
I gape at her. “You know who killed him?”
“That’s just the thing.” She plays with a stud above her lip before touching the one above her chin. “Until I know for sure who did it, the information won’t reveal itself to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I thought you knew about black windows,” she says. “You’re a dreamwalker like him.”
“I kind of do,” I say cautiously. At least I do now, having read his notes. “They’re a way to hide a dream.”
She nods. “A dream that can be someone’s memory. Or my own.”
“So the black windows I saw in your—”
“One contains something I desperately wanted to forget. Whatever it was, forgetting it was the payment for letting Leal use my subconscious as a safe.” She wraps her arms around her slim frame.
“And the other windows?”
“Each will be about something someone on the Council didn’t want anyone else to know,” she says. “Those windows are programmed to show me a dream about someone that I believe caused Leal harm.”
I sit up straighter. “What if you had killed him?”
“My own memory would come back to me.” She visibly shudders.
“A memory of what?” I ask, frowning.
“I don’t know,” she says softly. “That’s the whole point. After Leal did his thing, I forgot what it was. All I remember is that I don’t want to remember whatever it was.”
Huh. So I was right when I thought she might have a trauma loop. After Leal created her black window, she forgot whatever it was—not the healthiest way to deal with problems. Then again, if the memory was truly impossible to live with, repressing it might’ve been her only good option.
Nina extends her hand, and I feel myself levitate. Before I can blink, my back is brushing the ceiling.
“Hey!” I flail my arms and legs—to no avail. “What are you doing?”
She stares at me unblinkingly. “I want to make sure you really hear what I say next.”
