Chapter 8
My thoughts whirled with this new revelation about Easton’s murder. “Then who killed him?”
“I don’t know.” Darcy’s voice was rough again, and he turned his head to the side. The setting sun highlighted his profile and pointed ears with sharp lines. “But I will find out.”
It was hard to tell if that was a threat or a promise.
I scrambled to tug the clues around me like a shield to make up for how my entire lead for the story had crumbled.
The wolf pup whined in my lap, and I let my fingers travel down the smooth, silvery fur on its back.
“What are you guys really doing here?” I asked.
Darcy didn’t respond, and I held back a sigh and studied the festival beneath us.
The sunset cast a crimson glow, making it appear like everything was on fire.
It looked like someone had dropped an autumn blanket across the town.
When the trees stayed green too long, a few fae had a habit of speeding along the changing of their colors because no one wanted to have the festival when it still looked like summer outside.
“I have a feeling that there’s more you aren’t telling me,” I said as we finally started moving again. Maybe I had been too willing to believe the worst about Darcy because he was a fae, but that didn’t mean that I was wrong about everything.
“What makes you think I’m keeping secrets, Elizabeth?”
A charge went through me at my name, or at the heated look he gave me. Somehow, finding out that the secret he was hiding wasn’t Easton’s death made me more curious, not less. “Everyone has secrets, but you could make this easier on both of us by telling me yours.”
“Tempting”—the hint of a smirk teased up one corner of his mouth—“but I don’t think so.”
“Afraid I’ll find something you’d rather keep hidden?” Because there was no doubt in my mind that he was hiding something, and whether or not he believed me, I would get to the bottom of the mystery that was Darcy.
“You can look at me with those bewitching eyes all you’d like, but that doesn’t mean you’ll find the truth—you’ll only find what I want you to find.”
My breath stuttered in my chest. I rested a hand against the window, as if the cool glass would protect me from his smoldering look. Whether he was influenced by the potion or not, I had no idea why he’d said that about my eyes.
Darcy leaned closer, and even though there was still a foot between us from where he sat on the other side of the gondola, his presence seemed to fill the space. “Where I’m concerned, you should get used to disappointment.”
I ground my teeth. Was he flirting with me or shutting me down? The fact that I couldn’t tell was even more disconcerting than the rest. “Is this just a game to you?”
“If it was, I’d be playing to win.”
“Probably because you’d be the one setting the rules.”
“And I imagine you like to break them.”
“That’s because there’s more to life than winning. You could play for enjoyment, strategy, or even to share the moment with someone else.” I leaned forward in a silent invitation for him to open up to me.
He gave me a slow smile and shook his head. “An unearned victory is no victory at all.”
Well, hex. So much for that.
We made it back to the ground, but Jane and Charles hadn’t gotten off the ride yet. For a moment, Darcy and I stood in silence. I watched the dancers, who had moved from a line dance to a reel.
Mr. Lucas appeared. “Lizzy, how good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too.” I smiled at him.
“You’ll have to tell Charlotte to come visit more. Her siblings always complain that they never see her since she moved out, and she isn’t always the best at returning our calls.”
“I’ll do that.”
“And Darcy, so nice to see you.” Mr. Lucas clapped him on the shoulder. “I hope you’re enjoying the festival.”
“It’s made quite a memorable impression so far.” Darcy’s gaze jumped to me as he used my own words from the night we met at the club.
I lifted my chin, not breaking eye contact.
“Why are the two of you just standing here? You should join the dancers.” He grinned at Darcy. “Lizzy would make an excellent dance partner.”
“Oh no,” I said. “I wasn’t standing here so that Darcy would have to ask me to dance.
We just got off the Ferris wheel, and we’re waiting for Jane and—” My cell phone rang, giving me the perfect excuse to slip away and stop rambling.
“I’m sorry. I need to take this,” I said before stepping away and putting the phone to my ear. “Hello.”
“Is this Elizabeth Bennet?” a hesitant, feminine voice asked from the other end.
“Yes, it is.” I held a hand over my ear to block the music from the dance. “Who is this?”
“Sable Hancock.”
My pulse took off. It was Easton’s sister. “Thank you for getting back to me.”
She was silent for a long moment. “I wasn’t sure I was going to. Mom is so tired of us talking to reporters, but when you mentioned your mother had been caught up in the case, I guess it changed my mind.”
“I’m sure this is difficult for you, and I appreciate you reaching out.
” I took a few steps away, trying to get some privacy from Darcy even as I stood in the middle of hundreds of people.
If I remembered right, Sable was only fourteen, and I could only imagine how hard it was on her to lose her brother.
The thought of anything happening to one of my siblings was more than I could bear.
“It is.” Sable sniffled. “But I don’t care if it’s risky, I’ll do whatever it takes to find out what happened to Easton.”
“What do you mean risky?” I asked.
Sable hesitated, and I could almost sense her already regretting her call.
“Can you tell me about Easton?” I asked instead. A glance over my shoulder proved Darcy still stood by the Ferris wheel, devoting his attention to his phone. Mr. Lucas must have left.
“Easton’s the best big brother.” Her voice broke. “He’d do anything for me. I mean Steven is a good big brother too, but he wasn’t around as much as Easton.”
“He sounds wonderful.”
“He is… was.” Another sniffle. “He’s been my hero ever since he rescued me when I was little.”
I fought back a smile. It sounded just like a case of hero worship. “How did he rescue you?”
She was silent for so long that I wasn’t sure if she was going to answer.
Perhaps that had been an insensitive question.
It was hard not having her here in person to read her facial cues and body language.
“When I was little, I got sick, and it was Easton who took care of me when our mom was gone. He got sick too because of me.”
I opened my mouth to ask if the sickness was Moonrot, but that wouldn’t make sense since it wasn’t contagious.
Sable’s voice grew hesitant and more rehearsed. “But even though everything changed for us after that, he never got mad. He even got a new job to help pay for our medicine.”
I tensed. That was the opening I needed. “A job as a bodyguard?”
“Yes, he—”
A woman’s angry shout in the background interrupted Sable, and I could distantly make out, “Are you talking to a reporter? It’s dangerous, Sable!” before the line went dead.
I tried to call her back, but it went straight to voicemail.
With a sigh, I slipped my phone into my pocket, thinking through the new pieces of the puzzle.
I wasn’t sure Sable had given me much to use, but maybe she’d reach out again and tell me more about when Easton left for his new job.
At the very least, her grief made Easton feel more real than ever before.
This wasn’t just about protecting my family or stopping a killer, it was about helping a sister get closure for her sibling.
I pulled out my notebook and crossed out my notes about Darcy—everything except the giant question mark since I was even more clueless than before.
I also wrote down a few things from my conversation with Sable before slipping the notebook back into my pocket and heading to Darcy.
A prickle along the back of my neck had me looking around.
I froze.
One of the bodyguards from the club stood in the crowd like a boulder on the beach while the waves crashed around him.
He was even wearing the same sunglasses, although now he wore a green button-up.
Like before, he glared my direction, his eyes hidden but his frustration evident in the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Why was he always glaring at me? I’d never even met him. Maybe I would have assumed he was mad because of the rumors going around town about Mom and our family, but he’d been angry at the club before the officers had taken Mom away.
I stomped toward him, determined to get answers.
“Where are you going?” Darcy asked as I passed him.
“I’ll be back.” Pushing my way through the people waiting in line, I searched for the man, catching a flash of his green shirt as he ducked around a corner. I took off after him.
“Elizabeth, wait!” Darcy said behind me.
But I didn’t wait. I needed to catch the man and find out why he was following me. As I ran, I scanned the booths for a place he might have hidden. The flap of a vibrant purple tent, which stood out among the bustling crowds and brightly colored booths, rustled.
I sped toward it.
Stars woven in sparkling golden threads shimmered in and out of existence on the tent’s walls, and the canvas rippled like the tent was inhaling and exhaling.
I caught the word “seer” written in the same gold thread before I slipped through the opening.
The tent flap closed behind me, sealing me in darkness thick with the heavy scent of incense.
I stilled, trying to search for the man in the gloom while my eyes adjusted.
The flap opened again a moment later, illuminating Darcy’s profile before it rustled closed again.
“Why did you run off like that?” Darcy asked. “Was everything okay with your phone call?”
“What? Yeah, but I thought I saw—”
“Come closer.” A deep voice beckoned us toward the back of the tent, where a figure sat shrouded in smoke.
That voice sounded much too old for the man I’d been chasing. Maybe he hadn’t ducked in here after all. I turned toward the door, but the man spoke again.
“I have the answers you seek.”
With one last glance at the tent flap, I moved closer. Darcy let out an annoyed puff of air but followed me.
“You have answers for me, huh?” That was highly doubtful, but Darcy’s longing glances toward the exit were enough of a reason to stay.
The smoke cleared to reveal an old man sitting on a pile of cushions on the ground. A shimmering robe spilled around him, shifting colors like the wings of a dragonfly. His eyes matched the deep purple of the tent. He gestured to the cushions in front of him with a hand covered in rings.
My mouth fell open. What was a gnome doing here?
Sure, we had one who sometimes DJ’d at the club, but this one must have had the Sight for him to be working a job like this.
They rarely shared what they saw with the other races.
Maybe he did have the answers I needed and could tell me what happened to Easton.
I dropped onto a cushion, but Darcy stayed standing.
“Don’t be rude,” I said, mirroring Charles’s earlier warning. “We’re already here, so let’s do this, then we can go back to Charles and Jane.”
Darcy still didn’t move.
“Are you scared of someone discovering your secrets?” I taunted, though Darcy had good reason to be afraid. Gnomes were rarely wrong.
The tent’s shadows hid Darcy’s expression, but he dropped into a cushion a foot away from me.
The gnome held out his hands in a silent demand.
I offered my right hand, and after a long moment, Darcy his left.
The gnome’s bony fingers wrapped around our wrists and pulled us forward. He bent his wizened head over our palms and studied them, muttering things like, “interesting” and “fascinating.” After a moment, he chuckled, the sound as dry as the rustle of leaves in the wind.
“Now I shall give you the answers you seek.”
“Don’t you need to hear our questions first?” I asked.
“We both know why you’re here.” The gnome frowned, multiplying the wrinkles on his face.
I bit my lip and glanced at Darcy, who shrugged.
“I can tell the two of you have magic,” the gnome continued. “Is there anything I should know before casting the spell?”
If he was going to help us find Easton’s killer, I’d tell him anything he wanted to know.
“I’m half-witch and half-fae with a specialty in Portents.” I looked at Darcy expectantly. “Anything you’d like to add?”
“My specialty is healing,” he ground out, his back straight and the muscle on his forearm tensed.
“Witch magic and fae magic? Very interesting.” The gnome looked at us for a long moment, then added, “Now don’t interrupt. It’s a delicate spell.”
He muttered something under his breath, his grip surprisingly steady on my wrist. Magic pulsed beneath his skin, making his hand glow red like when I pressed a flashlight against the bottom of my palm as a kid.
A tingle spread from his skin to mine, and I resisted the urge to yank my hand free.
My nose itched at the use of powerful magic, and I sneezed.
As the gnome’s voice grew in power, his magic turned into a violet string, binding my wrist to Darcy’s. It flickered and flared where it touched our skin, but it didn’t burn.
The gnome opened his eyes and looked at us. “You two are star-crossed—” His attention fell on a shining string connecting Darcy and me, and his eyebrows slammed into a hard, fuzzy line. “Which one of you lied about your magic?”
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
Finally, Darcy raised his hand.
The gnome’s eyes darkened to a violent purple. “Your magic has ruined the spell.”
My stomach dropped. “So you can’t tell us who the killer is?”
“What killer?” The gnome studied the binding with narrowed eyes.
“You said you had answers for our questions.”
“For your compatibility questions,” the gnome said. “This is a love fortune-telling tent.”
“What? We don’t need that.” I didn’t need a gnome or their Sight to tell me that Darcy and I were about as incompatible as love potions and wolfsbane potions.
The gnome glowered at me. “Didn’t you see my tent’s name is the Soulmate Seer? What were you expecting?”
Darcy shifted, the movement tweaking the purple cord connecting us like a two-foot-long pair of handcuffs. “Can you remove this?”
“No.”
The word dropped with deafening finality, and Darcy stilled next to me.
“What do you mean?” I whispered.
The man looked at us, something like pity in his violet eyes. “There is nothing I can do to unbind the two of you. You’re stuck together.”