Page 79 of Resisting my Forbidden Fae

“Get out of here. Stay away from any blood for now, and get Mal calmed down. Contact my sister, too.”

The vampire was off without a word, dragging the protesting Malifeskos with him. Riva collapsed beside Oscar, fingers reaching for his neck before she realized that his veins there were visible. Her hand touched blood and shuddered.

“This has to be a dream,” she mumbled. “This has to be…a joke. I know I offered to keep her secluded, but she would never. She wouldnever.”

But it wasn’t, and it didn’t take them long to confirm Oscar’s death and the multiple things he had suffered before it. By the time their checkup was done, Riva was sobbing soundlessly. Charlie struggled with words, struggled with what he was facing. He wanted to be reasonable, but emotions battered him up. Still, he tried.

“Anyone in our group could have done it,” he said, stunning her. She reared back as if slapped. “Especially to Oscar, who was the weakest out of all of us. But there are fallen scales all over him, and there are signs of struggle. She had her nails digging inside him, Riva, and the parts torn apart match the shape of her nails and teeth. Her teeth with blood. You saw it.”

Silence.

“We can perform an autopsy with Edmund’s help,” he offered. “But we both know it will just incriminate her further.”

“She didn’t do it.”

“Then who? Diego? Mal?”

“Diego was with me,” she said firmly. “Mal was with Oscar earlier, but he wouldn’t react like that if it was him.”

“Daria was in the library. She was there since morning. You saw her reaction, too.”

“And it’s not you.” The defense for him had him gawking. “You were on the phone with your clan leader during dinner and after. You were too caught up in the conversation to see Diego and me when we….”

She shrugged, leaving it at that. Silence punctuated it. There was no need to say that Sona was the only one unaccounted for, dread forming when it dawned that they hadn’t seen her the whole day.

“She said that she didn’t mean it,” he said after a while, recalling Sona’s words.

“That’s as good as a confession.”

“No, it’s not,” Riva snapped. “There has to be an explanation. She could have killed him ages ago. Why now?”

“That’s what I’m planning to find out. But first…”

There was another sob, but the female shifter was tougher than most as she swallowed her grief enough to help him carry the man—or the parts of him left—to another place. Daria was already there cleaning up the scene when they returned, her clothes seeping with blood where she knelt and the glow not leaving her fingers as she stared at all the flowing red. Riva knelt beside her, removing her outer sweater and flinging it at the blood.

“Do it, Daria,” Riva said softly. “Oscar wouldn’t want us not doing anything.”

That snapped Daria out of her reverie, and the glow brightened as the Fae used her energy to hasten the process of the sweater sucking the blood. When the rest of the floor was clean, Daria let fire flourish and they stepped back as the sweater was burned before their eyes. She took it all back with a cajoling hand motion, leaving behind a charred floor and the strong scent of rust and charcoal.

“The smell will disappear eventually but that black stain…”

“It will be his symbol,” Riva declared. But she didn’t sound as strong when she said it, her earlier attempt at comforting Daria leaving her body weak to the next sobs that came. This time, Daria returned the gesture and embraced the woman. She placed her palm on Riva’s back, soothing with her glowing energy and promises.

“We will get to the bottom of this. We will find answers.”

Gray orbs met his. He nodded, mouthed aStay with her,and backed away, leaving them to mourn. He kept walking until he was in the prison chambers, where a glow rested on the doorway: proof that Daria was getting the hang of it and learning her process.

It took a while to cross that glow, his mind debating if he should be doing this now, but the need for answers won. A buzz washed over him. Then he was in the chamber, where rows of cells remained empty except for one.

“Sona.”

If she heard him, she didn’t reply. He trudged towards the figure sitting in the nearest cell, then noted the stack of clothes and tray of food and water that Daria had probably left behind. They were untouched, Sona still bloodied, but she snapped to attention when Charlie stood in front of her cell. It dawned that maybe the woman hadn’t heard him.

There was no scrambling, no approach. Sona stayed seated, shoulders stiff and mouth pursed…eyes emotionless.

“Why did you kill him?”

“I don’t know.”

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