Soraya continues moving until we reach a bush near the very edge of the garden. Behind it rests the warlock.
The very, very dead warlock.
I swallow around the razor blade that has lodged in my throat.
“Are you saying he did this to himself?” I ask incredulously.
Soraya’s frown deepens as she kneels to inspect the man. “More than likely. Or someone in the coven killed him and then left, though I’m leaning towards the former.”
“But why?” Grayson rasps out, his voice breaking slightly. He clears his throat and tries again. “Why would he do that?”
“Someone must’ve realized you two are here.” Soraya’s lips firm, compressing into a thin line.
“That doesn’t answer the question,” I point out.
“No?” She arches a red brow as she swivels slightly to stare at me. “So you think it’s just a coincidence that a warlock died outside your door, with wounds on his chest and stomach that look as if they were inflicted by wolf claws?”
“But why? I don’t understand the point!” Ethan throws his hands up in the air and begins to pace, the sunlight glistening off his golden skin. “Obviously, they’re trying to frame me, but I don’t understand the ‘why’ of it all.”
“Whydid the vampires attack the shifters, pretending to be human Hunters?Whydid the witches and shifters fight each other?Whydid a witch commit suicide in an attempt to make everyone else believe a shifter did it?” Soraya stares at us intently, willing us to put the pieces together.
I suddenly can’t breathe. There’s a tightness in my chest that hasn’t been there prior—a one-thousand-pound weight that’s cracking my ribs and puncturing my heart. “Someone’s trying to start a war.”
That’s the only thing that makes sense. An unknown foe is pulling all of our strings and making us dance like marionettes. But who is the mastermind behind all of this? Kain? He’s a lot of things, but he’s not smart enough to pull off something as elaborate as this.
And what purpose does this even serve?
Questions race through my mind, one after the other, but I don’t know which one to even begin asking.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if a vampire shows up dead in the next few days with a hex on him,” Soraya continues gravely.
“What’s the point?” Ethan asks, exasperation tinging his tone. “Who would be fucked up to do such a thing? And why now?”
Soraya shakes her head. “I don’t know. I suspected something has been going on for at least a month or two now but haven’t found any evidence.”
“This is evidence, isn’t it? A warlock killing himself?” I press.
“Did you actually see him claw himself to death?” Soraya asks, though her tone implies she already knows the answer. “Didanyonesee that? Did anyone—besides you and Grayson—actually have eyes on Ethan when the attack happened?”
“No, but?—”
“Then it’ll be your word against damning evidence,” Soraya says as she lifts her hand again.
And then, to my shock and horror, the ground beneath the warlock begins to grow and curl around him, cocooning him in a blanket of green. The last thing I see are his vacant eyes before they, too, are completely covered. The ground pulls the dead warlock into its earthy embrace until there’s not a single trace he was ever there to begin with.
“Holy fuck,” Ethan breathes.
Grayson simply stares.
Soraya stands gracefully and uses her clothes to wipe the dirt off her hands. She does all of this so…nonchalantly, as if this isn't the first time she had to make a body disappear.
I suddenly see Soraya in an entirely new light.
When I first met her, I thought she was a vapid, rude, dim-witted princess. But now I’m beginning to believe there’s more to her than meets the surface. She’s not just the Maiden, her entire life revolving around the coven and the Trinity. This is a side of her I doubt she allows many people to see, and I don’t know if that endears me to her or makes me terrified of her next move.
Soraya eyes us all keenly before moving back towards the door. “We won’t ever talk about this again.”
It’s not a question or even a request—it’s a demand. We either heed her warning or face the consequences.
