Page 66 of Suspicions on the Stage
I blink, looking around despite my visual block. Is he worried about the destruction of the stage? It is pretty expensive, but I don’t think it requires our entire family.
“Channing, I just got here, and Slade was crawling around in what I thought was a pool of stage blood. Yeah, well, it’s not, and I don’t want him touching the covered lump that isprobably a dead body, so shake a tail feather, woman!”
My eyes fly wide-open, and I inhale deeply, but I don’t get the scent of blood—only sweet, sticky flowers. “Lucas, how do you know this is blood? It doesn’tsmelllike blood,” I say as I frown at the polar bear. “You’re raising an alarm for nothing.”
“Slade, how many Fae species haveyoudrunk from or witnessed bleeding?”
He’s got me there—I’ve only witnessed deals, not deaths, nor mating rituals.
“None,” I reply softly. “Are you telling me beings from Faerie have blood that doesn’t smell coppery like most species here?”
“I’m telling you that as an alpha shifter, I never forget what the scents of things are. Li’s blood when we mated had a specific taste and smell—one he told me that Veil creatures all have, though it varies by species. He said the difference is difficult for non-shifters or non-alpha level shifters to detect. I guess it smells like fake shit to you, right?”
I nod, feeling like I’m going to vomit with all thisactual bloodcovering me head to toe. “Yeah.”
“Don’tpuke, bud. I can see it on your face, but puking is only gonna contaminate this shit worse. If Detective Bagel is the onethey send, he’sdefinitelygoing to think you and I did this, so we can’t fuck up any important clues.”
Pressing my lips together, I try to imagine things that are not someone’s lifeblood covering me. “Easier said than done now that I know, Lucas.”
“I’d expect that,” he admits. “Your family kept you out of the really bad shit, I bet. You saw stuff, but you didn’t get your hands dirty, and now, you’re filthy as fuck. But you have to control the reaction. Think about something else… like who the hell in this production is Fae or hybrid Fae?”
I don’t think that’s going to do it, but I’ll try.
“Um, well… there are some variations in the orchestra, but this wouldn’t be them. No instruments in the pit yet.”
Lucas nods—I think—and says, “Go on, Slade.”
“I believe there are pixies in the extras/chorus. They’re smaller than that lump, though, by far. Dancers always are.”
“Right. So who is big enough to be that lump, but has Faerie-spiked blood? Really think about what you remember. I know you haven’t been working on this for long, but…”
It hit me as if I had just driven into a wall full speed. Swallowing hard, I tilt my head to squint through the mess on my lenses to the body. It’s tall enough for sure. The shape is muddled by the blood in my way and the covering, but it looks solid enough as well. I wish there were even a hint of a limb or something for me to examine, but there isn’t. Still, I have a pretty good idea of who is lying on the floor with their blood splattered everywhere.
“You look upset. Seriously, Slade, who is it? I think you figured it out, so tell me.” Lucas’ voice is low as he urges me, and I guess he’s worried someone will come in and hear us.
“I think it’s Rialto Beauregard,” I croak as the panic runs through my veins. “He’s the director, and he’s definitely half-Seelie. I’m not sure what else because I didn’t spend enough time with him to get a read. The Fae part was obvious from his appearance.”
The polar bear groans and slaps his hand over his face. “Fuck. This is going to be another huge cock-suckingmess.”
“You’re telling me.” We both whip our heads around to see Morgana striding down the aisle, wings out, and what I think might be a pissed expression on her face. “How the hell are people getting murdered like this is a damn war zone on my campus?!”
I don’t have an answer for her, but if she wants to know why Lucas and I found them? That I think we know the answer to.
this mess we’re in
MORGANA
Of all the things I expected to get a message about, another death on campus wasnoton the list. It’s made worse by virtue ofwhothis is—something I’ll need to get a lid on quickly or we’ll have another swarm of reporters on-site. I take a deep breath, then let the calm, professional side of me slide into place.
“Slade, I need you to text Channing again. We need her here working on this immediately. Lucas, neither of youtouchedhim, right?”
“No, ma’am,” he says with a firm head shake. “Slade and I mused about who it is because of the telltale blood, but we haven’t moved a centimeter closer than we are now.”
That’s good news—it shouldn’t have even a speck of a trace on it that belongs to them unless it was planted.
“Does this place have cameras?” I ask before I look around the ceiling carefully. “I know the system here isn’t as robust as it should be for fear of leaked footage to the human world, butI can’t imagine they wouldn’t have them in places frequently visited by the public. Liability alone would demand it.”
Slade shrugs, his pretty face marred by concern. “They have recording equipment, but it wouldn’t have been on while the theater was empty, only during a performance. I’m not sure about actual campus security cams.”
