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As if reading my mind, Silas said, “I read specifically about Fernando in theCompendium of the Undying.”
I glared at him. “Well, if that’s true, why not just tell me that to start?”
He smirked back at me. “And miss out on your wild accusations? Never.”
Fernando loosened his grip on Silas’s leg and looked back and forth between the two of us. He looked like a confused and lost child caught between two fighting parents. Of course that was ridiculous, as Silas meant nothing to him beyond a means to receive chocolate.
“Everything is all right,” I told Fernando. “It’s always like this with him.”
Fernando smiled at me.
“This place is supposed to be shut down,” I said to Silas. “How’d you manage to weasel yourself into a room? Blackmail the owner?”
“A favor,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get dressed.”
I turned to Fernando and said, “Sounds like blackmail.”
“Yes.” Fernando nodded.
Ignoring us, Silas grabbed a set of clothes from his bag and headed into the bathroom. I watched him go, unable to look away from his muscular calves and back dimples. What did he think he was doing sitting around in a towel anyway?
As soon as he clicked the door shut, I took advantage of the opportunity and did a quick scan of the room. Silas’s tan trench coat hung on a hook by the door, the coat that was supposed to have been mine. I’d called dibs. What kind of monster didn’t respect dibs? Silas freaking Huxley, that’s who.
This was my opportunity. I could take it off the wall right now, slip it over my shoulders, and watch Silas’s expression transform into one of his signature scowls.
Some people had different smiles for different circumstances. Silas had six distinct scowls. One—minimal or mock annoyance; at any moment this scowl could transform into a cocky smirk. Two—concentration with mild confusion, reserved for investigations. Three—disbelief with a side of actual annoyance. Four—concern. Five—resting grump face. Six—code red warning of impending combustion, hatred, and a penchant for murderous stabbing. The stabbing was often done with words, but the intent behind it was the same.
If I put on the coat, he’d go with scowl three.
“Aside from stalking me, what are the two of you up to?” Silas asked, startling me. How had he opened the door and snuck out of the bathroom without making a sound?
“Finding more bad guys,” Fernando said in his gurgly way.
Silas looked down at him, then at me, clearly not understanding what my blue companion had said.
“While you’re spending your time lounging in your decadent room here, we’re out actually solving the case.”
“You’ve made progress?” Silas asked.
“Of course I have. And as soon as my driver shows up, I’ll make more.”
“Where are you headed? Back to the castle?”
I snorted. “No. I’ve met with Cornelius Kurnbottom, and dropped him down to the bottom of the list of potential suspects.”
Something flashed in Silas’s eyes at the mention of Cornelius Kurnbottom’s name, something dark.
“So now Fernando and I are going to work on the next lead, follow up on what Edwina Aldea said. Why? Are you looking to steal our plan?”
“Why would I?” Silas strolled toward me, all self-assured confidence.
“You’re pursuing the wrong suspect.”
“Psh, of course you’d say that. If you don’t think it’s the driver, then who?”
“Cornelius Kurnbottom.”
“He seems like a lovely—”
