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“When he said she should leave the wimp, he meant her husband, Ryan the elf, right?”
“Without a doubt,” she says. “Eduardo sometimes called him that when they disagreed.”
Finally, a promising lead. “So what happened? Did Ryan find out about the affair, get pissed, and plant an arrow in Tatum? Or did the werewolf learn how to use a bow like an elf?”
“I imagine the latter,” she says. “He could easily have pushed Ryan off the cliff. In his wolf form, he could’ve gotten close enough before Ryan realized what was happening.”
“But I don’t understand why he’d kill them both. I mean, I can see why he’d kill the husband of the woman he desired, but—”
“He probably killed her to regain control. There was pressure within the pack for him to take a mate, and that has to be another werewolf. He could’ve killed the elf to cover his tracks. Or he could just as easily have done it in a jealous rage—and that kind of thing doesn’t follow logic,” she adds with a shrug.
“I don’t know,” I say. “It feels too premeditated for a jealous rage. But let’s say Eduardo’s the killer. Why would he kill Leal too?”
Nina floats a piece of shrimp into her mouth. “That’s hard to say. Maybe because he knew Leal would know his motives for killing the others. Or maybe Leal knew something else.”
I consider that. “You know, Leal was going out of his way to get into the dreams of werewolves.”
Her gaze sharpens. “There you go. Maybe he succeeded, and one of the windows is going to hold Eduardo’s secret.”
I look at said windows. “Which one do you think it is?”
“No idea,” she says. “My intuition isn’t making any more suggestions.”
“Puck. I guess I can try one at random.”
“Let’s just hope you don’t learn a secret that someone will later want to kill you over.”
“Great, thanks,” I mutter. Taking a breath, I eeny-meeny-miny-moe myself a window. “Here goes nothing.”
I fly at the black surface before I can change my mind.
This time, it would be more accurate to call the lake a sea. It’s so big I can’t even see the shore. Having no other choice, I swim.
And swim.
And swim.
When my muscles tire to the point of failure, I finally glimpse the shore in the far distance. The sight gives me a boost of strength to swim some more. But an hour later, I can swim no longer. The shore is five hundred yards away, but it might as well be across an ocean.
I grit my teeth and keep moving my leaden limbs.
A muscle in my leg cramps, and I begin to sink.
Puck. I’ve got to at least hold my breath.
Nope. That’s an impossibility with breathing this ragged.
Burning like acid, water flows into my sinuses, and pain explodes in my lungs.
A few agonizing seconds later, I drown.
Chapter Thirty-One
I’m in the hallway, my back to Kain and my heart drumming with terror.
I just died in my dream. Does that mean I’m homicidally insane?
Examining myself for murderous desires, I don’t find any—no more than usual, at least.
Whew. I must’ve merely lost my powers.
Touching Pom, I attempt to enter the dream world.
Nothing happens.
So that’s that. No more dreamwalking until tomorrow. With a sinking feeling, I face Kain.
“Who’s the killer?” he barks.
I brace myself. “I checked almost everyone. They’re all clear.”
His fangs pop out. “I didn’t ask you who isn’t the killer. I asked who is.”
“I think it’s Eduardo.” I wish I sounded more certain.
“You figured out how to enter his dreams?”
I shake my head. “He woke up before I could.”
Kain’s eyebrows snap together. “Then…?”
“I have reason to believe he was having an affair with Tatum. He was jealous of Ryan and didn’t like Leal for stealing some secret.”
Kain’s upper lip curls, exposing more of the fangs. “You could say that about most of the Council. How did you arrive at him?”
“By process of elimination.”
“That’s not much of a proof.” But the fangs slowly retreat.
Emboldened, I suggest, “Why don’t we go talk to him anyway? The least he can do is not fight me when I enter his dreams again.”
“Fine.” He grabs my shoulder and drags me to the werewolf’s apartment.
At the doorway, he sniffs the air and rushes in, leaving the door ajar. In the bedroom, Eduardo is still sleeping—or looks like he’s sleeping. Kain must’ve sniffed out something else, because he checks Eduardo’s pulse.
“Dead.” He spins around, his face a mask of fury. “Your alleged murderer was murdered.”
I back away.
His eyes turn into mirrors. “Do not move.”
The glamour roots me in place, despite every instinct screaming for me to run.
Kain rips open his own wrist and forces blood into Eduardo’s mouth. Just as with Albina, nothing happens, apart from my mouth watering in a disturbing way.
Kain curses and flashes out of the room, leaving me alone with the corpse.
