I could tell immediately that she hadn’t heard the news, which meant that Detective Alvarez hadn’t been here yet. Part of me was pissed—wasn’t he supposed to be turning over every stone?—but I was also grateful. It meant I’d get straight, unrehearsed reaction from Jael.
Besides, it’d only been about a day and a half. With three dead witches on his hands, Alvarez probably had lots of other clues to track down first.
“Oh my God,” Leila said, “where the hell is Sophie? She blew off work all weekend. No one can reach her.” She leaned in close and lowered her voice, her whisper like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. “But don't worry. Kallayna talks a good game, but she’d never fire Sophie. The customers would revolt—she’s our best bartender.”
“Sophie’s… taking some personal time.” I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth—not yet. Right now I needed all of my strength to talk to Jael, to find out why Haley had sent me here. “I’m actually here for Jael. Is he around?”
“Sure,” Leila said. “Be right back.”
I promised to watch the door while Leila went to find him.
Even though it was dead inside at this early hour, the place was still lit up for a party. The club had no windows, though you wouldn't know it to look around. fae magic bewitched the walls, the ceiling, and even the floor to look like an endless starry night, as if you were floating in deep space. Every few minutes, a comet streaked overhead, and in the distance, a new star was born. The bar itself seemed invisible—just a collection of floating bottles and glassware—until you got up close and realized it was just a series of mirrors and tricks.
If you weren't used to it, the whole place made you feel drunk and disoriented before you’d even taken your first sip of fae potion.
Other than absinthe, I had no idea what was in most of the bottles I delivered here from Waldrich, but I was pretty sure it wasn't just Jack Daniels and Bombay gin.
Like Leila, Jael was tall, thin, and fine-boned, with the same white hair and yellow, cat-like eyes. He wore his hair pulled back into loose, low ponytail, which only accentuated the severity of his sharp cheekbones and lush lips. Dressed in dark jeans and a tight black button-down, he looked more like a Calvin Klein model than a club deejay, and even less like a Seelie prince.
Well, aside from the otherworldly beauty.
I couldn't take my eyes off the pair as they crossed the room toward me, gliding through the faux-starry night like a majestic god and goddess.
Leila resumed her post at the door, leaving me with the prince.
“Miss Desario.” Jael pressed a kiss my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. He was definitely pretty, but Sophie had assured me his delicate looks were deceiving. It was easy to see why she’d fallen for his charms. “I'm told you have a message for me?"
“Is there someplace we can talk privately?” I asked.
“Of course.” He led me across the club and into a small sound booth the size of a walk-in closet, most of which was full of electronic equipment.
He closed the door and turned to face me, his arms completely still at his sides. He didn't fidget, didn't cross his arms or smooth out his shirt or lean back against the door or do a single thing that would have made me think for even a second that he was a regular guy.
“I presume this is about Sophie?” he asked, cool as ever. “She hasn’t returned my calls. I fear she’s upset with me.”
There was no easy way to say it, and I needed his honest gut reaction. No sugar coating.
“Sophie was murdered Saturday, Jael.”
His cold smile didn't falter, but I saw the agony in his eyes—the briefest flash of deep, heart-wrenching pain—and then it was gone.
I blew out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t honestly suspected Jael, but his reaction—however slight—was all the confirmation I needed.
The fae prince was innocent.
I gave him a few more seconds to sit with the bombshell, then said, “I know that you cared for—”
“Come with me,” he said.
Okay, so I guess we’re skipping the whole bonding-over-our-shared-pain thing…
Just as well. I wasn't really in the mood to cry on his shoulder and reminisce. Sophie may have been sleeping with him, but Jael wasn't the kind of guy you brought home to hang out with your roommate over a few beers. We had absolutely nothing in common.
Other than Sophie…
Steeling myself, I followed him out of the sound booth and up a set of nearby stairs to a glass corridor that overlooked the bar and the main dance floor below.
At the end of the corridor, a solid black door with a silver doorknob awaited, shockingly plain compared to its magical surroundings. Jael retrieved a key from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole above the knob.
