16
Morning came early. The only reason I didn’t threaten to throat punch the sun was the warm dae curled around me. I was under the cover, and he was on top of them. That confused me until I heard the flutter of sleeping moth wings and recalled that we were all sharing a room.
“Stop wiggling,” Asa growled behind me, his voice heavy with sleep…and desire.
“Make me,” I whispered back, grinding against him playfully.
A pillow smacked me in the face, and I spluttered, swatting it aside as another struck me.
“Look who’s awake.” Clay rested on his mattress, propped up on one elbow. “Perv One and Perv Two.”
“And you thought violence was the answer?”
“With you two?” He pretended to consider it. “Yes.”
“Any word on Marty’s progress?”
“Ms. March has been detained for questioning. She doesn’t have much magic, but she’s stubborn as a mule. They’re going to truth spell her if she doesn’t cooperate soon, and that won’t end well for her.”
A truth spell was a last resort with suspects who had no value beyond the information they carried. The process wasn’t a spell, per se, but it did involve a specific type of fae magic that ripped chunks of information out of a person’s head then rendered them comatose.
Pointless, really, given the nature of the case. Seize the electronics, and you tied the case up with a bow.
Not my circus, not my monkeys.
“The truth spell was Marty’s idea,” I decided. “I never should have told him about Parish.”
“He would have found out eventually. This way, he handles cleanup, and you get to save two young lives.” He flopped back against his pillow. “It’s not perfect, but it’s not a bad deal either.”
“Unless those young lives attack us, and we have to save ourselves.”
“Always a possibility,” Clay admitted. “That’s the job.”
“The Amhersts are seventeen and eighteen. Old enough to know right from wrong. They decided to embrace the dark arts.” Asa made it sound simple when it was anything but. “They chose to murder innocents to get their next black magic high.”
“You’re right.” I rolled onto my back. “That doesn’t make it suck any less.”
“No,” he agreed, resting his chin on my shoulder. “It doesn’t.”
“Come on.” Clay threw back his covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Time to go.”
The comforter hit Colby and jarred her awake, her wide eyes blurry in the bright room.
“Kill him,”she blurted then seemed to realize where she was and who was with her. “Oh, uh, sorry?”
“If you tell me you even dream about murdering orcs, we’re going to have a serious talk, young lady.”
“Then I won’t tell you.” She stretched out her wings and yawned. “But it involved a pirate ship…”
“Goddess bless,” I muttered. “It’s too early for this.”
“You expressed concerns about my dreams.” She woke up fast. “I was only easing your fears.”
“I expressed concern.” Those poor orcs would be shark bait soon. “You expressed an infomercial.”
Folding her arms—all of them—across her chest, she pouted at having been called out.
“Let’s go.” I rolled out of bed, but Clay shoved me back down and sprinted to the bathroom. “Jerk.”