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As they continue speaking, I start to question their motivations. From everything I’ve heard about Quentin’s world, these two don’t seem to belong here. I mean, aside from the rumors they might be romantically involved with each other, they’re far too noble-sounding and ‘nice’ for this world. And sure, real history has plenty of examples of royalty and nobility inbreeding. An incestuous relationship in their social strata is hardly without precedent in reality. However, this does not make it less creepy.
I choose to believe Demetria and trust they aren’t.
Still, they’re pushing a bit too hard for ‘something to be done’. Sometimes, the loudest person demanding a crime be solved is the one who did it, trying to deflect attention off themselves. These two look the part of shining knights in white armor a little too much. If they are acting, they’re really darn good at it. Of course, everything else about them is utterly perfect thanks to their being creations of Quentin’s mind. They could be perfect actors, too.
I think I need to do a bit of snooping around.
Chapter Four
Battle Plans
This case is growing legs.
Yeah, I know. It’s not really a ‘case.’ No one’s hired me to find Quentin. Technically, finding Lindsey counted as a case since it came from Sherbet… but that’s done. I’ve found Lindsey, safe and alive. Whether she stays that way, though, is another worry. I think the reason I haven’t tried to take her and Damon home yet is subconsciously knowing it won’t work.
Tammy had a good point. We’ve been awake for almost two days now without a break. So, after court, we return to Demetria’s manor house and sleep. Well, the mortals sleep, which includes my son. He’s still not a full angel and, as such, sleeps with the best of them.
That leaves Kingsley and I alone in one of the rooms, where he holds me close and we talk quietly. Not really the time or place for anything more than that, which is fine with me. Ever been held close by a werewolf? If not, I would recommend it... best feeling in the world.
The others wake up late the following morning—and even Kingsley and I dozed. We all get dressed in a new set of clothes that mysteriously appeared during the night, and make our way downstairs pursuing the smell of food. Our new duds are much fancier than the commoners’ clothing we started off with, but not as restrictive as the formal attire we wore to court. My outfit is thankfully not a dress. I’ve no problem wearing dresses. They’re just not practical for the sort of work I need to be doing. It’s basically what I imagine a noble-born woman of this world might wear while doing anything other than standing around being fancy. It’s part horse-riding attire, part fantasy adventurer. I could be a background extra in a Lord of the Rings movie if I added a sword to my belt.
Tammy and I are on the same wavelength. She emerges from her bedroom within seconds of Kingsley and I stepping into the hall, once again dressed like a ‘rogue thief’ as Anthony called her. Not sure why. The kid doesn’t know anything about breaking into places or picking locks… and I really hope she’s not going to get into any fights.
Got to quit worrying about her so much. The kid can handle herself now.
“Feel better now?” I ask. “You were exhausted.”
“Yeah. I’m good.” Tammy raises her hand—which shifts into a massive jaguar paw. She grins as it shifts back to human. “Need to be alert to do magic.”
“I guess so.”
We head downstairs, joining the others at a big table laid out with a spread of cheese, apples, bread, and sausage. One serving girl about Tammy’s age stands nearby seeming in a trance. Oh, grr. Demetria’s charmed her, no doubt. Talk about conflicted. Most of me wants to ‘save’ this woman from Demetria. On the other hand, we need the vampire’s help right now. Making an enemy of her is only going to complicate my quest to save Quentin.
Only because this young woman does not appear hurt—merely under mind control—I force myself to set the issue aside until later. As soon as we’re no longer in a position to be dependent on Demetria’s aid, I’m going to demand she release this poor woman. Sooner if it seems like she’s in danger.
“Do not worry.” Demetria smiles at me. “She’s not as controlled as you think.”
Of course, Demetria can’t read my mind—immortals don’t typically have access to each other’s minds. She’s clearly reading the expression on my face, which, I guess, I didn’t bother to hide.
“It’s just a memory block,” she adds, picking up a goblet and drinking from it. Yeah, smells like blood. Hopefully not this woman’s. “She’ll remember taking a job as a domestic servant but not for who or where. I shan’t be remaining in this world any longer than absolutely necessary.”
“Nor shall we.” Kingsley pulls out a chair for me, sits beside me, and goes right for the sausages.
Over breakfast—which is happening much closer to lunchtime—I explain my plan to ‘get my PI on’ and do some investigative snooping around the various noble houses. From talking with Tammy about this novel series, it seems there isn’t any character who’s independent of the factions and trying to get to the bottom of everything. All the characters are part of each faction and they just go through the motions reacting to whatever their adversaries do. My hope is that for this reason, the people responsible for ‘the bad stuff’ aren’t taking too many steps to hide evidence.
“What evidence are you looking for?” Demetria sets her goblet back on the table. “You’re not worried about who killed the former king, are you? That happened before we got here.”
“No.” I help myself to some bread and cheese. “I’m looking for whoever is responsible for the recent spate of assassination attempts. My guess is if I find that person, I’ve found Nesanth.”
Kingsley gives me a long stare. “Have you considered another explanation? Perhaps none of them are responsible. These assassins could be materializing out of nowhere as a direct manifestation of Nesanth’s desire to rule.”
If I didn’t have a mouthful of food, I’d have bonked my head into the table.
“Ugh.” Tammy bonks her head into the table in an overly dramatic fashion.
Yeah. Definitely my kid.
“This realm has certain rules,” says Demetria. “Until Quentin’s soul is fully absorbed, Nesanth cannot do entirely as she pleases. I am certain she is working through the guise of one of the noble houses to stay within the confines of this realm’s dynamic. Too much disruption or deviation could unravel the fabric of the reality and send it crashing back into the nonexistence from whence it sprang.”
