"They're also sure that the killer wasn't human," I said, watching the subtle flinch and twitch of muscles on his face. "Did you know?"
"I'd guessed," he said. "There are…gouges on Miss O'Mahony's body. Deep scratches, deeper than nails. Almost like an animal. The assumption is a weapon, but after…after the theater, I thought maybe…"
"Claws," I said, nodding even as my blood froze in my veins. "It doesn't narrow down the possibilities, I'm afraid."
Jude's eyes widened. "You know a lot of…with claws?"
"Monsters, yes. Or species, if you're worrying about offending anyone," I said. "Although, I think the most offense you might cause is confusing satyrs for fauns. Or a púca for a werewolf. They're all very proud, in my experience."
"And at the theater? How many with claws?" he asked, words hushed and urgent, as if we might be overheard.
I shook my head. "I can't believe that anyone in the company would've hurt Beth or Margaret. The company is close, friendly. Little spats now and then, broken hearts, that sort of thing."
He frowned but nodded. "Not the kind of hate it would take to really tear a girl apart."
My heart turned to stone in my chest. It was the most anyone had said about what had happened to either woman. Too much, and not enough.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Miss Nix," Jude hissed, sliding down from the seat he'd taken to the carpet where I was still kneeling. Strong hands wrapped around my shoulders, his head ducking to meet my eyes. "I shouldn't have said that. You don't need to know."
"I think I do, actually," I whispered, blinking slowly, certain the room was starting to spin gently around me. "It doesn't always feel real."
Jude's jaw worked briefly, gaze narrowing. "Do you know who is investigating the murders for the theater?"
I shook my head. "Not really. Sort of."
"Can you… Can you suggest they come speak to me?" he asked slowly.
I pursed my lips and considered. He wasn't asking for Hunter's name, or even Mr. Reddy's. Only that I suggest they consider his help.
"But you'll report to human superiors," I said.
He frowned and released my shoulders, staring down at the floor in a soft surprise, as if he'd only just realized he'd arrived there. "I just want to find the killer," he said firmly, lifting his eyes again. "I'll protect their privacy. I'll collaborate with them too. If nothing changes soon, they'll tuck the case away into a file and not bother with looking for answers. There's too much crime for the police to chase down one John. At least in their minds."
I sighed, glancing at the fire, suddenly feeling the burn of it against my cheek. "I'll think about it. It would be better if…if they considered you one of their own."
He jerked at that but didn't speak.
"That's your decision to make," I said, shrugging. "But I know they would accept a fae's help. Not a human's."
His throat bobbed with a swallow and he nodded. "I'll consider it, then. I should go."
I hummed. The neighborhood would already have thoughts about him being on my stoop, let alone him walking inside with me.
He pushed himself up from the floor, offering his hand to me. His fingers were warm and calloused against mine, and he drew me up with a strength that matched the broad frame under his coat.
"If you're sure the theater is safe, you should stay there," he said, not pulling his hand from mine.
"I have to make sure the neighborhood doesn't sell my home out from under me," I said, shrugging.
He huffed, and for a moment, there was only quiet. His eyes searched my face, studying me, making me almost shy with his focus. Just more eyes watching me. I'd loved the focus of being on stage once. Now I wondered if I hadn't had more attention than one life could stand.
He released me at last, walking toward my door, and I found myself all but gasping for breath, like his nearness had stolen the air from around me.
He stopped at my door and glanced back at me. "You said you noticed my ears?"
I nodded.
The door handle turned in his grip. "I noticed yours too," he said.
I swayed in place, one hand reaching up to cover my ear, but my hair was already doing the work as usual. And Jude Piper was walking out of my home without another glance, his parting words a punch to my gut.
He knew.
Which should've been fair, considering I'd exposed him with the same information, understood the horrified shock he'd worn at my discovery. That horror jolted me in place now like a lightning strike.
We were two strangers who knew too much of each other, knew each other's complicated secrets before the simple facts.
And there was the smaller detail I'd been trying to ignore, but which grew painfully clear as he'd grasped my hand. Simmering attraction, like smoke filling my throat and stealing my breath, caressed every nerve. Nymph and fae weren't so different from one another. Jude Piper was probably the only person in my life who was so perfectly suited to understand me.
For the first time since the early days of joining the company, I found myself slightly self-conscious about my profession. My means of survival was in the world of monsters, masquerading myself as a human. And their world was different from the humans' in many ways. Whoring was an honest and appreciated profession to monsters. Pleasure was applauded, not sinful.
I might be nothing more to him than a whore under a spotlight, I admitted to myself, shaking my head and trying to find the steady floor under my feet again.
I had too many men in my thoughts these days. Too much trouble and worry too. Why add Jude Piper to the mess?
Better to forget him. Trim the roots before they dug holes out of me.
* * *