Chapter Thirty-Nine
BLISS
The interrogation room isn’t like the human ones on TV. It’s not cold and sterile, like a doctor’s office, but ornate and plush, exactly what I’d expect from the fae council.
“Why was the wraith collecting Pisces Penrose’s tears?” Grim asks, seated in the matching plush armchair, opposite me. There’s a fire in the hearth, and the room has a nice warm glow from the flames.
I’m in shackles, of course. Unable to use my powers, which isn’t really different for me. At most, the iron metal is cold, hard, and a bit uncomfortable. I need to itch my nose, but the shackles are heavy, and the last time I tried to scratch an itch on my face, I almost hit myself with the chains.
“I already told you, I don’t know.” That’s what I’ve told Grim for most questions he’s asked. It’s not totally that I’m trying to be obstinate. I can’t stop going over Pisces’ words in the my head, replaying them in a never-ending loop.
He saw a rune in my eye?
How is that even possible?
And regardless of that…
Why, then, did I not see one in his?
It’s hard to focus on what Grim is asking, when I can’t even process the last twenty-four hours.
Grim lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “Bliss, you’ve got to give me something.”
I try to push Pisces from my mind, which turns out to be impossible, but at least I’m able to force myself to focus. Maybe Grim is right. Maybe if I come clean, tell them what I know, things will work out. Maybe they’ll let me go since I cooperated.
As Grim was leading me out of the Dead Hearts townhome, handcuffed, Amelia stopped us, throwing her arms around me, despite Grim’s warning to keep her distance. She whispered into my ear, “Don’t say anything. I’ll get Liz. She’ll know what to do. Don’t say anything.”
Except, Liz hasn’t been allowed in to see me. In fact, the only person I’ve seen in the past several days is Grim and the fae that delivered my meals.
I was either in this interrogation room or in a locked room that served as a cell.
Today, apparently, will be different, though.
Someone knocks on the interrogation room door, a thick wooden door spelled to keep me inside, unless escorted back to my room.
Grim gets up, opening the door for an older fae male, who walks in like he owns the place.
Giving the room a once-over, the male settles into the chair Grim just vacated, wearing an expression that suggests he finds the room lacking.
It’s Yves Lyra, the head of the fae council and the man who nearly caught me with the song wraith in the hallway of his own estate.
“Sir,” Grim says, having closed the door and taken up a position standing next to Lyra.
“She still hasn’t said anything?” he asks, like he’s not looking directly at me from across the room.
“Nothing useful, no. But I’m sure with more time—”
“No, no more time.” Lyra fixes me with a stern glare. “Tell us what we want to know, succubus. Tell us about this song wraith.”
Grim gives me a pleading look over Lyra’s head.
“I don’t know anything.”
Grim’s eyes fall, like I’m now past his help.
“We know you were working with the thing. And really, you should be more mindful. You’re already proving to the fae world that succubi aren’t up to the same moral standards as most Born fae. In fact, you’re acting like a Made fae.”
I glare at Lyra but say nothing. He can slander my character all he wants.
He watches me silently for a few moments and waves his hand dismissively. His legs are crossed and he’s reclined like he’s totally at ease here.
“What about this supposed bond?”
My glare changes subjects, moving to Grim. He should have kept his mouth fucking shut about that.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Lyra lets out a frustrated breath. “Come now, this bond that the siren mongrel thinks he has with you.”
I force myself to scoff, drawing a wide-eyed look from Grim. “A bond between me and a Made fae? It’s not possible, you know that.”
“You deny it?” Lyra presses.
“Of course I do. Made fae can’t bond. I see no rune in his eye.
He’s probably lying. Like you said, Made fae and their lesser morals.
” I hate myself as I say the words. My insides twist with guilt and shame.
I don’t know what is between Pisces and I, but if it is a bond, Yves Lyra can never know about it.
Alarm bells blare in my mind at the thought.
Best case scenario, they’ll treat Pisces and me like a science experiment trying to figure this out.
Worst case scenario… I won’t let my mind go there.
Grim’s mouth presses into a thin line, like he’s rethinking how he views me. It’s a twist of the knife in my stomach, but I press on.
“You might not have a high opinion of succubi, but I’m still Born fae. Born fae and Made fae are not meant to fall in love or bond. If we were, the stars would create bonds between our species.”
Lyra nods in agreement. “So you think he’s lying?”
“He has to be.” Stars, I’m going somewhere horrible in the afterlife for sure.
Lyra nods again, unfolding his legs and getting up out of the chair. “Well, that’s good news. See her back to her room. Perhaps she’ll feel like talking more about the wraith tomorrow.”
“Sir, I can assure you, I had no prior contact with such an abhorrent creature.” I’m laying it on thick, but maybe, just maybe, if he thinks my allegiance lies with him, he’ll let me go. Then I’ll find a way to free Pisces, somehow.
Lyra smiles. The effect it has on his face is disconcerting, like his mouth has no business being in that shape. “Hayden, take her back to her room.” He says nothing more, exiting the room.
I ready myself for bed, showering and changing into a set of plain but comfortable pajamas.
There’s a selection of books in the room, a hearty fire roaring, and a plush velvet armchair and ottoman that’s honestly perfect for curling up on.
I’m settling in for another long evening of reading when a knock sounds at the door.
I jump up, wondering if I’m about to be set free, when the door swings open. Pinkie leads a grungy and—I sniff—smelly Pisces into the room. He hasn’t shaved in days and he’s wearing the same blood-covered clothes as the day we interrogated Jinx. His under eyes are hollow, his cheeks gaunt.
“Stars, what have you done to him?” I ask, running over to Pisces and helping him into the chair I was just about to curl up in.
“You’ve met Lyra. You think he’d waste a room like this on a Made fae?” Pinkie says, throwing some PJs onto the bed. “Grim pulled some strings.” Pinkie heads to the door, about to lock us back up in the room together.
“Wait! He hasn’t fed in days!” I call after him, but Pinkie just shrugs and closes the door anyways.
Pisces groans, drawing my attention back to him.
“Pisces, are you alright? What can I do?”
He mutters something, but I can’t hear. I lean in closer, aching to reach out and feel him. I place my hand on his cheek. “What did you say?”
He opens his eyes, looking up at me with those beautiful but still runeless blue eyes. “I said,” he says louder, “get the fuck away from me.” He knocks my hand aside and closes his eyes.
“Pisces, please, let me help. At least let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain?” he snaps, eyes opening again. There’s hate in them as he takes me in. “I’m just a liar, right? Just a mongrel siren with lesser morals?”
“I—” I’m about to say that I didn’t say that. But I did; not the mongrel part, but everything else. They must have played Pisces a video of my interrogation. Damn Grim. He didn’t pull strings, he set us up. “Please, let me explain.”
“No. Leave me alone, Bliss.” I can hear the exhaustion in his voice.
“Okay, fine, I’ll leave you alone, but you have to feed first.” I put my arm out in front of his face, closing my eyes in apprehension. His teeth look like they’ll hurt. Badly.
“I said get the fuck away from me.”
I open my eyes and roll them. He’s recoiled from me as much as he can in the armchair. “What, you don’t like the taste of succubus?”
His eyes flicker to mine, and a blush colors his cheeks faintly.
He turns away from me completely. “Stay away from me,” he repeats, but his words are a bit muffled, as if he doesn’t want to open his mouth too wide.
His teeth, I think. His siren teeth must be coming out and he doesn’t want me to see them.
“Well, either you hate me and should have no problem ripping into my flesh, or you don’t hate me and don’t want to harm me, so best to feed while you’re still in control.”
He pins me with a withering look. “I’m not going to feed from you at all.”
“Because I disgust you?”
He growls deep in his chest. “I won’t feed from you because I’m not going to subject you to that kind of pain.”
I think back to the time I sleepwalked to him. “Is there another way you feed?”
He shrugs, looking away from me. “I need to shower,” he mumbles, taking the collar of his shirt and smelling it. I swallow what I’m about to say and nod, going to sit on the bed with my book and give him some space.
Only when he’s inside the bathroom and the shower starts, do I realize the pajamas Pinkie left for him are sitting on the foot of the bed, still neatly folded.
The door to the bathroom doesn’t lock—I checked, wondering if I could lock myself inside to avoid Grim’s interrogations—so I could quickly chuck the clothes in, but I don’t want to invade his privacy.
And the shower has a glass wall, so I’d likely get an eyeful, which in a different situation would be totally welcome on my end.
I barely make it a few pages in my book before my thoughts drift to Pisces’ eyes.
I put the book down and put my face in my hands.
I need to explain to him. I need him to understand that if I saw a rune in his eyes, I would have said something.
I would have done something. Cried in relief?
Ran up to him and hugged him? I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t have ignored it.