Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
GAGE
“ H ow many times do I have to tell you?” I drop my head down, listening to the satisfying thump of my skull hitting the table. “I didn’t do anything!”
Caleb folds his arms over his chest from where he sits across from me.
When Sera’s brother called me, asking to meet, I thought…
Well, is it stupid to believe I thought he wanted to discuss my relationship with her? Maybe give me his approval, as archaic as that is?
Instead, as soon as I arrived at the hotel, Caleb shackled my wrists in magical cuffs and led me into a tiny conference room—nothing but a circular table and four rolling chairs. All of them are currently occupied. Caleb sits in one, Mrs. and Mr. Jenkins have claimed the other two, while I’m in the last one. Maddox, the largest of Sera’s siblings, remains standing, leaning against the wall as if he believes his sheer size will hold the building up.
“Honey,” Mrs. Jenkins begins kindly, reaching forward to place her dainty hand over mine, “we just need to understand.”
“A baku attacked the council, and you’re the only registered baku in the area,” adds Mr. Jenkins, his lips thinning.
And, god help me, I can’t help but think of how horrible an impression I’m making on my mate’s parents. For them to think I’m capable of hurting the lords and ladies…
Bile scorches my throat, both at the implication of his words and how royally fucked I am.
They’re right. There are no other bakus in the area. Hell, there may not be any in the entire world. We’re a rare breed of supernatural with immense power. Healing, in general, is revered by the fae community, but to also be able to influence minds? Dreams? Reality? It’s a terrifying concept for people to comprehend.
The only other baku I know of was arrested years ago—more than likely by Serafina’s family.
“Maybe the attack wasn’t by a baku,” I rasp out as my gaze drops unbidden to the photographs laid out before me.
The lords and ladies have been moved to a hospital—a floor specifically used for fae—and are being treated around the clock by some of the best healers, though I know it won’t do any good. If they’ve truly been attacked by a baku, then there’s no saving them.
Just like no one could save my dad.
In all of the photos, their eyes are shut, but their lips are parted as if releasing silent screams. The sight makes my stomach churn violently, and the nausea from before returns with a vengeance.
Caleb inches a picture closer to me, and I don’t even need to look to know that the photo will be of Charise.
The queen’s daughter.
“Look, man.” Caleb forks his fingers through his dark blond hair. “I know you mean a lot to Serafina, which is why we’re trying to help you. But if you don’t give us some answers, the queen will have your balls. And my balls…which I’m rather attached to.”
“I don’t have any answers to give because I didn’t do anything.” I clench my hands into fists on the table. “Isn’t there a mind reader who works for the FIB? A glawackus? Send him here. He can attest to my innocence.”
“I would if we could.” Maddox drags a hand down his face. “But Mylar has been loaned out to the FIB office in Paris. He won’t be back until the end of the month. I doubt you want to wait that long.”
God, all I want to do is leave this damn room, pull Serafina into my arms, and kiss the living daylights out of her. I want to know if her plush pink lips are as soft as they look. If she’ll taste sweet and sugary, like candy. If her skin would feel like silk beneath my fingertips.
But I can’t do any of that. Not now. Not until I can clear my name and get out of this fucking mess.
Mr. Jenkins and Maddox exchange an unreadable look while Mrs. Jenkins offers a serene smile—one that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Do you think you’ve been framed, Gage?” she asks gently.
I blow out an exasperated breath. “ Yes. ”
That’s the only explanation I can think of, unless there’s another species of fae roaming the world with powers similar to mine. Honestly, that wouldn’t surprise me. Sera was revealed to be a skinwalker long after we thought that particular species was extinct. Perhaps there’s another type of fae out there that we don’t know about yet, with powers similar to my own. This could all be nothing but an eerie coincidence.
However, a tiny voice in the back of my head can’t help but feel as if this is all connected.
All of the murders.
The virus.
Serafina.
But how they connect eludes me.
“Is there another species of fae that could possibly do this?” Caleb turns to address his parents and younger brother.
Mrs. Jenkins taps her painted nails against the table, her multiple bracelets jangling in the process. I wonder how many of those bracelets are actually blades in disguise.
Like mother, like daughter.
I know they’re not blood related, but the similarities between the two of them are uncanny. They have the same sharpness in their eyes, like they’re assessing the world and constructing a conclusion.
I remember watching a documentary in science class about nature versus nurture. Serafina may be adopted, but there’s no denying who her parents are. She’s certainly adopted their mannerisms.
The thought makes me smile, though it sends a pang of yearning through me.
Where is Serafina now?
Does she know about what happened to the council and Charise?
Does she think I did it?
Will she be mad at her parents for bringing me in for questioning?
I hope that isn’t the case. I would hate to drive a wedge between Sera and her family. I know how close they are to each other, and I’d never want to get between them.
Hopefully, this will all blow over, the culprit will be captured, I’ll be released, and we can all have a good laugh about this.
As the Jenkinses whisper amongst themselves, my thoughts drift to my mother. Does she know what happened to me? Knowing her, she’ll believe that I did it and smile at the thought of getting rid of me.
There’s another sharp pinch in my chest, but this one brings nothing but pain.
Even my own mother thinks I’m a monster.
Self-loathing envelops me like a thick fur cloak.
“Say that you didn’t do it…” Mrs. Jenkins finally says, shifting to face me. “So you believe that someone is trying to frame you, correct? Or do you think that it’s just a coincidence that their method of attack was similar to your own?”
“I have no idea.” I lower my head and focus on the metal cuffs encasing my wrists. They sparkle with a strange silver glow that actually hurts my eyes.
I know from conversations with Devyn that these cuffs are used by the FIB to prohibit fae from using their powers when they’re under arrest. I don’t know how they were created, and honestly, I don’t care. Being without my baku feels like losing a piece of myself. I usually always feel magic tingling just underneath my skin, and with it absent, there’s a gaping hole in my chest.
“But it all stems back to the question—what supernatural is capable of doing this?” Caleb inquires, frowning. “There aren’t many species that can trap an entire council of fae in nightmares.”
“Sirens, perhaps,” Maddox interjects.
Sirens can use their voice to get humans and fae alike to do their bidding. But I’ve never heard of a siren being powerful enough to control more than one person at a time, let alone a group of influential fae.
Mrs. Jenkins must be on the same wavelength as me because she shakes her head. “There hasn’t been a siren that powerful in hundreds of years, since a dozen of them got arrested for sinking ships and killing sailors in the sixteen hundreds.”
“But there also hasn’t been a skinwalker in just as long,” Mr. Jenkins points out.
His wife’s frown deepens.
“Do you think this has to do with Sera?” she asks, rubbing at one of her bracelets.
Nobody gets the chance to answer.
At that moment, the door to the room is thrown open, and a harried-looking woman rushes inside, Devyn a few steps behind her, his expression tense.
The woman’s hair is in disarray, and her cream-colored blouse is rumpled and covered in questionable-looking stains. Still, I recognize her instantly, and my blood runs cold, turning to cubes of ice in my veins.
She runs straight towards me, shakes my shoulders, and screams, “What the fuck did you do to my daughter?!”
Queen Marianna.
Otherwise known as the woman who holds my fate in the palm of her hands.
Fuck.