That made this a whole lot more complicated. “Okay. So, we take it person by person. I’ll start hanging around the pack and going through your files. We’ll find the killer.”
“I hope so. I’ve no stomach for another scene like that one. A bloody teenager.” He tightened his hands on the steering wheel and it creaked under the pressure. “If someone wants me gone that badly, might be best if I leave.”
What? Was he joking with that? He couldn’t just leave his pack. “No. Whoever is doing this isn’t a good person. You can’t hand your pack over to them.”
Donovan stayed quiet, and I shivered.
That so wasn’t happening. I wouldn’t let him give up like that. We’d figure something out. The queen would give us a hint, we’d eliminate the fey threat, and then find the traitor. I wasn’t giving up before the hunt even started.
Chapter Thirteen
The receiving room was fitted much like the rest of the castle, but here, hand-woven wool rugs covered
the stone floor in rich colors. Three red velvet brocade couches surrounded a small fireplace. Off to the side, a beautiful illuminated manuscript was open on a stand, with a floor lamp to light it. A couple chairs rested along the walls next to a small table. The walls held portraits—some more modern than others—but what stood out to me were the different fashions in the portraits. It was a nice collection, and I recognized Donovan in a few paintings, but I couldn’t place any of the other people in the frames. Bookshelves filled in the spaces between portraits.
Ian had taken down the big painting over the fireplace that depicted a Were hunt bringing down a lion in Africa. That frame now rested against the back wall, and the fey mirror had taken its spot above the mantel. It was a long oval with an ornate golden frame, its edges carved swirls and curlicues. The scent gave away that it was actually made of gold, rather than painted gold. I didn’t even want to think about how much it was worth.
“You ready?” Donovan asked.
I took a breath. “I guess so.”
He walked to the mantel and grabbed something from his pocket. I didn’t realize it was a knife until I smelled the coppery scent of blood.
“What’re you doing?”
“Everything comes with a price when you’re dealing with the fey. It’s important to remember that. Also, never say thank you or promise to do something unless it’s clearly defined. The more specific you are, the better off you’ll be.”
I knew most of that, but his little lecture made me nervous. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Cazadores were patrolling last night and still one of ours was killed. Thomas shouldn’t even have even been out in town. I’m not sure who to trust besides you, so I don’t think we have a lot of options. But if you’ve a mind for something else, let me know.”
I shook my head. He was right.
I held my breath as he pressed his bloody hand to the mirror. “Helen. If you’re able, I’d like a word.”
Donovan stepped back, but the mirror stayed a mirror. I cracked my knuckles as I watched its surface, waiting for something to happen. “Maybe she’s not in?”
“She might be tied up or might want us to wait, but she’ll come. Eventually.”
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on the couch, knee bouncing, as we waited.
The mirror’s surface rippled. A light seemed to come from behind the mirror, reminding me of the way the ocean waves looked as the moon rose. When the motion finally settled back down, the Lunar queen stood front and center.
For some reason, I’d pictured her wearing a long dress with bell sleeves, like something out of Lord of the Rings, but she was wearing a crisp white silk pantsuit. Instead of a jacket, the top was a form-fitting halter, with a dangerously low-cut V-neck, revealing her chest bone. She stood casually looking down at us, with her hands loosely in the pockets of her wide-leg pants. Her long silvery hair was pin straight and tumbled down to her waist, while her eyes were an eerie golden-orange color that reminded me of the harvest moon. Her skin seemed to glitter with a light golden aura, and I wondered if it was really like that or just a show for us.
My gut said that was how she really looked, but I hoped it was a show. Because she was breathtaking. Even though she had to be old, she looked like she was in her mid-thirties, and when she smiled, her expression lit up the room.
“I can’t say I’m surprised to hear from you, Donovan.” She grinned, and it was like I could feel her joy and wanted to smile with her.
I shook my head as the sweet scent of fey magic filled the room. She’s trying to manipulate us, I said to Donovan through our bond.
It’s habit for her. Like breathing. “No need for your magic. You’re looking grand enough.”
She laughed. “I do get carried away.”
Not even a minute had passed, and I couldn’t deny that Donovan and the queen knew each other well. I was fine with it, mostly. He was my mate. I didn’t need to be intimidated by one of his exes.
But I was.