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“Who is the magic user and who is my enemy?”
The answer didn’t come as Merrell’s lips closed down and his eyes teared up. Rick tried again until it dawned that he could sense a different kind of energy in the room, restricted and subtle. Merrell couldn’t mention names, even when the interrogation glow was pressuring him.
“Are the magic user and my enemy the same people?” Rick tried again.
There was no response. Merrell’s expression crumbled in pain and Rick felt his chest tighten.
“Are the magic user and my enemy involved in the other deaths in our court?”
“Yes.”
“Were they murdered?”
“Yes.”
“Are you involved in those deaths?”
“No.”
Merrell’s agony was so raw that Rick couldn’t take it anymore. Reluctantly, he turned off the device but didn’t remove the binds. Merrell’s entire body slumped, exhausted, and sweating profusely.
“Admitting knowledge to the murder of our Fae folks is a crime, especially because you didn’t tell anyone. Being an accomplice to a royal member’s murder is also a crime, and you admitted enough to be imprisoned,” Rick intoned. “I hope it was worth it, whatever it was that motivated you to do this against me and our people. Even if you didn’t like me, even if you loathed me, it would have been easier to just avoid me instead of resorting to this.”
“You were supposed to be the fun one, not the one nosing your business where it didn’t belong.”
“Talkative now, aren’t we? Tell me more.”
There was hatred in Merrell’s expression, one that had never been there whenever they partied together—an emotion hidden so well all these years. The man quaked with it.
“You had everything, the life of a powerful man with no consequences for anything you did. Even when you were missing, there were more worried questions than accusations about how irresponsible you were. Those deaths were warranted and if only you stuck to your lane—”
A door slammed open, interrupting the conversation. Or confession. Familiar energy trailed in Erin’s wake as she marched forward, eyes searing Rick with a heated look.
“What’s going on? Why am I hearing the news that you took our prison equipment up here? You know that’s illegal and…” Erin trailed off, attention finally landing on Merrell. Her voice grew sharp while her lavender eyes turned uncertain. “Rick, what’s going on?”
Rick stood up, facing her. Studying her. There was no hint of panic, not even an obvious attempt to hide her confusion. When she kept scanning Merrell’s bound form, Rick cleared his throat.
“Nikolai and Merrell have just confessed to hurting my friend, Yu,” he declared. “While Nikolai is only guilty of that, Merrell has also admitted to spiking my drink, working with a magic user to get me out of La Fleur, and throwing me in an island filled with enough magical creatures to keep me trapped—or kill me. I should know, considering I was almost killed by a pixie, a siren, and a giant while I was clawing my way out of there to come back here.”
As he talked, he watched Erin’s confusion morph into disbelief, then a stillness. He could sense her cognitive wheels working before she sucked in a breath.
“You didn’t leave.” Her voice was still infused with disbelief, even while that stillness had turned to restlessness. “You…didn’t leave for an adventure?”
“You tell me, sister.”
“How would I know when you don’t even talk to me and wouldn’t meet up with me?”
“And why would I want to talk to you when you threaten to punish others if I don’t? Why do they have to be involved?” he returned. “Unless getting others involved is what you thrive in.”
Lavender eyes widened, then grew blank. Her restlessness transformed into a visible realization and her whisper was stunned.
“You think I’m involved in whatever madness this is. It’s why you wouldn’t talk to me…why you continuously avoid me.”
“Again, you tell me,” he said evenly, refusing to fall for it. Out of the corner of his eye, Merrell was silent, watching them with a fascination that felt morbid.
He braced himself for the man to pipe in and defend her, denying her involvement. He waited for her to deny it, too, and to do something spectacular: throw a tantrum and redirect the accusation, maim him on the spot and twist the truth, or plead with him that she wasn’t involved and get on his good side…manipulate the situation, which a lot of Fae folks were fantastic at. But she did neither, walking forward with determination instead. Her shoulders were rigid and her jaw was clenched, but her voice was firm.
“I would be more than happy to tell you. Strap me up, brother.”
