36 The Whole Contestants-Dropping-Dead Thing
The Whole Contestants-Dropping-Dead Thing
T emmi attempted a dignified spin-and-march-off, but her ankle didn’t quite cooperate. She ended up tripping, sprawling into damp grass in her too-tight black dress (curse you, Manny) and then scrambling to get back up while three cameras, PAs, and a concerned Nicky all surrounded her.
“Get away from me,” she hissed, shoving through the small throng and veering back down the path toward the gazebo.
“Temmi, please don’t go. Stay; let’s talk some more.”
Temmi stopped. Turned. She didn’t care that there were cameras watching. “Will I be talking to the prince or to my friend?” When he didn’t respond, she said, “That’s what I thought,” and continued her dramatic exodus.
Justine came running up to her from the gazebo. She held out both hands as though trying to slow Temmi down. When Temmi didn’t slow, Justine kept pace, which wasn’t difficult, considering how restricted Temmi’s movement was in her dress.
“What happened?” Justine asked. “Whatever it was, we can talk about it. Running away isn’t going to do anyone any good.”
“Hey, Justine,” Temmi said. “Fuck off. And take the cameras with you.”
She passed the gazebo, angling for the road leading to the manor. Once there, she hiked up her dress and broke into a run. A single camera drone followed her all the way back to the manor, where she tore through a back entrance.
Her lungs burned and her pulse was a shipwreck and oh gods, had she just made a huge fucking mistake? No time to second-guess herself now. Kalvin had said to stay quiet, and where had that gotten her? It was time to talk to someone with actual power.
Reaching her room, she rushed headlong inside. Temmi was sticky and sweaty; before she went anywhere, she needed out of this fucking dress. Ignoring Arbora sitting on her bed, she threw herself into her closet.
“You’re back early,” Arbora said. “Everything all right?”
Temmi contorted her body to try to get to her back zipper, her head hitting the underside of a shelf. “Never been fucking better!”
“Maybe you want to talk about it?”
“Why? ’Cause Justine’s in your bridges, telling you to get me to go back? Fuck her and fuck that.”
“No? Because you tore through here like a hurricane, and even if we aren’t the best of friends, I’m not an unsympathetic asshole.”
Temmi managed to peel her dress off, then rooted around for something to wear—the sweats and sweater she’d worn the night before were the most accessible. She put both on, then kicked open the closet door.
“Aren’t you, though?” Temmi tugged her boots back on. “I heard you both the other morning. Did you do it? You and Justine? Oh, sorry, I mean you and Jacks .”
Arbora’s jaw fully dropped. For a moment, she only stared. “Whatever you think you overheard, you’re wrong.” Her gaze snapped to her CB. Her expression changed. When she glanced back up, it was with a different kind of intensity. “What happened to Jasmine at the party?”
“What do you mean, what happened to Jasmine? Don’t change the fucking subject—” Oh. Oh. Shit. Jasmine’s cough, her bloodshot eyes.
“Justine just bridged, saying Jasmine’s being medevacked out? She saw medics strapping Jasmine to a gurney? Said she was bleeding from her eyes?”
Temmi almost laughed. “That’s rich. Sure, pretend you and Justine don’t know exactly what’s going on with Jasmine. That you two aren’t the fucking reason she’s about to die.”
Arbora’s look of incredulity became even more incredulous. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I would very much appreciate being brought into whatever twisted reasoning is happening inside your head right now.”
“Oh, I’ll happily enlighten you.” Temmi held up three fingers. “Kya.” She put one finger down. “Rosaria.” She put down the next. “And now Jasmine. You and Justine poisoned them.”
“I can assure you we did no such thing. Are you trying to tell me this happened with Kya and Rosaria? That they were . . . poisoned ?”
It was Temmi’s turn to stare incredulously. “If you didn’t do it, then how do you explain your conversation with Justine?”
“I—” Arbora ran both hands over her shorn hair.
“We— Dust it. Justine—Jacks—and I are here as part of a collective hoping to get a better foothold in the imperial court. We want to leverage a relationship with Spie to influence laws that would create less imperial oversight, slowly set the stage for legislature that would grant the Moons greater independence. The kind of thing that would help fringe systems gain more rights. But we didn’t kill anyone! ”
Temmi blinked. Fuck. That made actual sense.
Arbora stepped in closer to Temmi. “Please tell me what you’ve seen. What happened to Kya and Rosaria?”
Was Arbora lying? Temmi had no reason to trust her.
Shouldn’t trust her. After all, she could still be the murderer, could be playing Temmi right now—might even try to kill Temmi to silence her.
But wasn’t this the perfect time to find out?
For weeks, she’d played along with Kalvin’s repeated requests that she stay silent, and where had that gotten her? Exactly nowhere.
In any case, she’d already tipped her hand. If Arbora was going to kill her, then Temmi might as well go out swinging.
“Night one,” Temmi began, the words punching out of her like water through a broken dam, “I found Kya’s body in a toilet stall.
I checked for a pulse—she was dead. And then last week, Rosaria, she—she—” Temmi’s whole body started shaking.
“Both of them were bleeding from the eyes, like Justine said Jasmine was. It has to be poison.”
“Gods and nebulas,” Arbora breathed. “You should’ve told me sooner. If Jasmine dies...her family is rich. Like richer-than-some-governments rich. The whole Terran System is going to revolt when they find out.”
“ If they find out,” Temmi said. “Kalvin says the emperor is keen on covering the deaths up. That’s what she’s done so far. All while I sit here and play along ’cause I don’t fucking know what else to do.”
Arbora seemed genuinely shocked. Maybe she was telling the truth. “You did the right thing by telling me. Alone, we’re easy to silence and pick off. But you’re not alone anymore. Hold tight; I need to make a call.”
Within seconds, however, Temmi did find herself alone. And she was too antsy to sit around. She wiped aggressively at her eyes, then took off.
· · ·
Temmi steeled herself in front of Spie’s bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she knocked.
Long moments passed in which Temmi’s heart jackhammered in her chest. She felt way too exposed, standing there alone in the corridor. What if Spie wasn’t in her room? Temmi would’ve bridged ahead, but she’d been in such a panic—
The door bowed open.
“Oh, hey.” Spie filled the doorway, her dark locks tied back in a low queue and her face washed clean of cosmetics.
Without makeup, she looked younger, more human, still unfairly beautiful.
“I wasn’t expecting you”—her voice lowered, going deep and throaty—“not that I mind. I was just about to bridge you, Artemis.”
Fuck me , Temmi thought, immediately forgetting everything she’d been planning to say. Her name in Spie Expani’s mouth was a drug.
“Can we talk? Somewhere we can’t be overheard?”
Spie raised one eyebrow. “Of course. Come in.”
“Sure, yes, I’m almost back to my room.” Nix’s voice shot down the corridor. “Yeah. Yeah. She’s planning on calling Senator Gross personally— Hold on.” He slowed to a halt as he reached Spie’s door. “Temmi,” he said. “What are you—”
Spie slung an arm around Temmi’s shoulders. “Your party over already, baby brother?”
Nix stared at them. “Temmi, what are you doing here? After you ran off, I— I’m sorry for earlier.”
“Well, this is interesting. What happened earlier?” Spie asked casually, but Temmi felt the way the arm around her shoulder tightened slightly. Almost protectively. Or possessively.
The thought made Temmi’s heart stumble.
Nix stepped closer, revealing an obvious tremor in his hands. His dark violet gaze focused on his sister. “Spie, leave her alone. What’s between us is between us.”
The claustrophobia of being sandwiched between both Expani heirs was not something Temmi knew how to cope with. Turned out the resulting effect was that she essentially lost her capacity for speech.
“Yeah, but see, she came knocking on my door, thinking it was yours, so I’m invested now.
” The lie fell from Spie’s lips with shocking ease.
Damn, that was chilling. “And we were having such a good little chat, I think I’ll keep her to myself tonight.
I realized this might be my only chance to get to know her.
Unless you’ve rethought things, baby brother? ”
“I—” Nix’s tortured gaze flitted from Spie to Temmi.
“I have, actually. Temmi, I—I want you to stay. On the show, I mean. I have to go make a call, so please return to your room. We can talk in the—” His long-lashed eyes blinked furiously, as though fighting back tears.
“We can talk in the morning.” Even his voice was tremulous.
The arm around Temmi’s shoulder fell away. Spie joined her brother in the hall.
“You good, Nicky?” Her voice lost all hints of its prior teasing. “What’s going on?”
There was a too-long pause. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” But nothing about him seemed fine.
“Well, that’s a bald-faced lie,” Spie said.
Watching them made Temmi’s heart ache for Ollie.
“Look, just—get Temmi to her room, okay? We can talk about it later.” He threw Temmi a parting glance, a sad smile on his lips, then vanished behind the door to the right of Spie’s.
Spie stared after him until his door whispered closed.
When she turned back around, there was something deflated in her expression.
Temmi knew what it was like to love someone and be entirely clueless as to how to help them.
To be on the outside of another person’s pain, watching them suffer through a window they wouldn’t let you break. Feeling like they were slipping away.
After a moment, Spie returned to her room. Temmi followed, closing the door quietly behind her. Spie slid open her balcony doors. Cool air blasted its way into the room. Temmi shivered as it buffeted her.
“Come on, let’s go.” Spie stepped onto the balcony. She wore no sweater or jacket, only a sleeveless silk pajama top and objectively tiny pajama shorts. Temmi definitely didn’t notice the lean muscles they revealed. “You said you wanted to talk somewhere private?”
Right. Right. The whole contestants-were-dropping-dead thing. Kind of a big fucking deal.