52. Riggs
RIGGS
“Who’s the killer?” Riggs muttered to Izara as they strolled toward the foyer. He knew she knew. She always seemed to know everything, as if she had eyes all over this temple.
“Oh, baby, I don’t know. What would be the fun of the game?” Izara chuckled, stroking his arm.
Liar. Riggs blanched, stepping to the side. But she only inched closer, interlacing her hands with his.
He slammed his eyes closed. “Izara, I’m not feeling well. I’d rather not.” Yanking himself out of her hold, he wiped his slippery palm across his robe.
What did she rub on her hands? Frying oil?
“You are rather warm,” Izara mentioned, clicking her tongue. “The sun will do that to you.”
Esemeray and Killian were two steps behind them whispering to one another. Riggs kept an ear out, trying to make out what was being said, but couldn’t make out the words. Not that it mattered—it didn’t—he was thankful for Killian.
A man said, lips curving in satisfaction, “There she is.”
Riggs' stomach plunged. The woman was flat on her back, blood pooling across the tiles, running through the grout like a red river.
Someone actually killed her.
This was no game.
This was real.
“Holy gods,” Esemeray said, tucking her face behind Killian’s arm. “She’s dead.”
Killian stepped forward, assessing the body. “She was stabbed. In three separate places.” He pointed to her throat, her stomach, her thigh. “Who would do this?”
Izara giggled. “She was caught stealing. Might as well make a game out of it.” She crouched low, dipping her finger into the crimson pool, and placed it in her mouth, sighing in delight.
Disgusting. Riggs face twisted with repulsion. “Make a game out of death?” He held his tongue. What kind of sick fucks would do this?
“We are carrying on my grandfather’s tradition,” Izara mused, angling her head toward the deceased woman’s face. “Ula will be missed. Won’t you?”
It appeared the Rhabaris did not practice peace and love as much as Riggs was led to believe.
The Rhabaris were psychopaths.
Killian’s face paled. “Where is the weapon?”
Riggs placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and whispered, the fountains drowning out his voice, “I’m not okay with this.”
“Just play their game.” Killian swallowed hard, murmuring, “I am trying my hardest not to lose my shit.” Killian’s eyes slowly gravitated to Izara. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something’s not right in her head.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, brother.” Riggs looked at Esemeray and said, “Stay close to Killian.”
She nodded.
I love you. Riggs mouthed to Esemeray, whirling back to the body, to Izara who was still staring at the woman with awe. Certain she was the one who had killed her.
“Izara, you can savor her fluids later. Let’s find the weapon,” Riggs said, hating every word he spewed out.
Izara stood, painting her lips red with the servant’s blood. “I was only getting started. The killer was smart, and fast. How do you know our clue would be a weapon?” She cocked her brow. “That will not tell us who the killer is.” She huffed a laugh. “You are a bounty hunter are you not?”
Riggs cleared his throat, adjusting his footing. “I am.”
“So, tell me. Why would the weapon decipher who killed Ula?” She squinted. “We need to dig deeper. Let’s question the guards.”
Riggs nodded. Blood licking bitch.
Izara’s drapes flowed across the foyer as she tapped on the stationed guards’ armor, her nails clanking against metal.
“Excuse me, have you seen anyone out of the ordinary stroll through this hall?”
The guard stiffened. “Only you and your brother.”
“Right.” Izara’s face turned to stone. “Anyone else?”
The guard shook his head. “Your father asked me not to speak to any of the guests during the game, or his children.”
Riggs scoffed. Game.
Izara pulled the snake ring off her finger, and the guard dropped to his knees, Izara falling with him. “Tell me who killed Ula?”
Riggs' heart pounded, he knew her eyes were silver. He slammed his lids closed, not daring to look.
“I did not see anything,” he said as if he were in a trance. “What you are looking for lies beneath the foyer.”
“Perfect.” She tapped Riggs' chest. “You can open your eyes now. Stop being a fool.” She clicked her tongue. “You know I’d never use my power on you. Unless of course, you break my heart.”
Riggs gulped, cracking an eye open, meeting a pool of emerald—no sign of her silver slits. “What’s beneath the foyer?”
A sinister smile took over her face. “Let’s go find out.”