Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
“ M iss Nova, you’re awake! It’s been two days, and from what I understand, the living shouldn’t sleep for so long unless they’re in a coma. Do you remember me?”
“Two days?” I sat up and then gasped when a white rat leapt off my chest and off the bed, disappearing under the armoire. I grabbed Bones’s wrist, so I didn’t fall over again. “What happened?”
He frowned while he pondered on such a large question. “You mean since you made the master chicken? You don’t remember me at all?” He looked so sad about that.
I forced a smile, but the video had come back vividly, along with consciousness. Callie and Bree hadn’t made it, and I’d been crushed and burned to death. I patted his hand. “Of course I remember you, Bones. I had to rest so I can regrow my fingers, but I’m sure I’ll sleep less once I’m fully regenerated.” I looked down, and there were my sad stubs, almost entirely regrown except that the nails were still misshapen and warped. So ugly, like the rest of me. I focused on what he had on a tray, which was oatmeal and toast.
“Master showed me exactly how I should make the cereal for maximum health,” he said, beaming at me. Had Mercury actually spent his own time teaching Bones how to make oatmeal palatable while I’d been unconscious? So much for proving myself a necessary part of Bones’ development. Still, it was very kind of Mercury to take care of the living girl he was stuck with because he still considered me one of his undead.
I didn’t feel hungry, not when I was so sick about Callie and Bree, but I needed the energy to handle what was bound to be a very difficult week. Year. Life.
I sniffed and then took a big bite of the cereal. It was miraculously warm, fluffy, and sweet. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it was rich, hearty, and made me feel like maybe I could face the world again. After I scraped the bottom of the bowl, Bones went off happily with the tray.
I took a deep breath and then got out of bed. I froze when I realized that I was wearing a black silk robe instead of the armored things. I peeked under the robe and was still in the holograph underwear and velvet moon bra. Did I want to ask Mercury how I’d gotten undressed? He could probably transform the goblin’s armored gear into the robe with a snap of his fingers, or have one of his shadowy figures do it while he talked on his phone, taking care of business.
What business did a dark sorcerer do with that kind of phone? Maybe he had an actual business that I could help with. That would be nice.
I sighed because I didn’t really care about employment or anything else with my friends’ deaths weighing on me. I went to the bathroom, flinching at my reflection in the mirror. Didn’t I put a towel over that? My head had a fine white sheen on top of it. I leaned close to peer at the pale stubble growing out of my scalp. White. I was going to have pure white hair, like Mercury’s white rat, that had been sleeping on my chest for two days.
I stood there, drowning in depression, mixing with frustration, because that’s just what I needed, white hair to go with the rest of me, and the company of rats. I shook my head, draped a black towel over the glass, washed up, and then stared at the phone on the sink counter. I’d left it in a pile of ridiculously impractical underwear. Had Mercury put it there? I could call someone, but Mercury had the train feed for me to look at already. Did I care? It was clearly a freak accident. Strange that my fingers had been chopped off so cleanly, but stranger things had happened. Like me coming back from the dead and growing white hair. At least my parents had closure. Was anything still on my list of things-to-do? I should get a job, a bank account, and an ID. For some reason, I felt like going back to bed and sleeping for another two days. Or years.
Bree and Callie had died with me.
I shook myself and straightened my spine. They were gone, but I wasn’t. So I needed to appreciate what I had, like I’d had to appreciate my wealth and beauty when I was faced with poverty and pain. I couldn’t fix everything, or anything it felt like, but if I started small, I could move forward until I made a difference, in my own life and in the lives of others. Even if I wanted to sit down in a puddle of self-pity and misery, I had a life to live. Callie and Bree didn’t have even that.
I left my room and turned to the shadow. “Could you take me to Mercury?”
The shadow spread out, blocking everything except the doorway to the tower.
“He’s in his laboratory? Is it all right if I go there?”
The shadow didn’t answer, but there was only one option.
“Thank you,” I said, and started up the stairs. Physically, I felt a hundred percent, but emotionally, I was dragging a heavy weight as I climbed. The bird paintings were almost startlingly beautiful, mystical color, with atmosphere in the cracked oil showing a rich patina of age. I stopped and studied the one with a diagram of bird bone structure, the skeleton perched on the back of a chair. Hadn’t that chair been in Mercury’s laboratory?
When I got to the top, I raised my hand to knock, but the door swung open on its own. Mercury was at his desk, going through papers and writing dark burning sigils in the air as he went.
He looked like a dark sorcerer, unfathomable power at his fingertips as he manipulated matter and soul with precision and grace. I shuffled in, feeling like a wreck in my black silk bathrobe. Did he see my weird holograph underwear? How embarrassing to be seen not looking like the world’s most beautiful woman by a man I was coming to have a serious crush on.
“Thank you for the oatmeal,” I said, sounding like death and depression. What was with me? I should be happy to know that there was no murderer, just bad luck, but I wasn’t. I’d hoped that my friends were all right, that I was the only target, but who knows how many people died in the fire? And I was the one who survived? Why me and not someone else who had a home and family that would accept them no matter what they looked like or whether or not they were undead?
He glanced up from his work then gestured the runes away as he stood, looking quite formal and uncomfortable. “It was for me as much as for you.”
“All the same, thank you. Didn’t you mention that you have the train station feed? Do you mind letting me watch it somewhere? I’d hate to take more of your time when you’re clearly in the middle of another important project,” I said, gesturing at his desk, and then frowned and moved closer when I realized that they were newspapers.
Every headline had the same theme. The three gems had burned to death, trapped beneath the fallen metal ceiling joists of the conference center on the outskirts of Singsong City. Each headline tried to make the story more shocking and outrageous, with so many photos of me, Callie, and Bree.
I sat down abruptly on the chair that Mercury put behind me so I wouldn’t land on the floor. I seriously needed padded floors if I was going to be falling over every day.
“Why did you get these?” I whispered, grabbing onto Mercury’s hand and holding it tight.
He cleared his throat, eyes concerned. “I did research on all three of the gems, the blue diamond, the red ruby, and, of course, the emerald flame. You don’t have to tell me which of them you were. I understand that there is a lot of pressure in those elite circles. Still, can you tell me who would have wanted to kill you?”
I stared up at him. His voice was gentle, but the words were terribly confusing.
“You think that someone started the fire intentionally?”
He crouched down so our faces were level, so I could see the spirals of silver in his eyes more impressively. “Nova, you didn’t have any burns. You weren’t there during the fire. You were either killed before or after, but absolutely not the way the video portrayed.”
I stared at him and then closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against his while I tried to think. I was intelligent. I had a good business sense and a good people sense, but this made no sense at all. “You’re saying that the video was manufactured to make it look like we died in the fire? So it’s possible that my friends are still alive and being held somewhere and tortured like I was? Have your rats found any other bodies dumped in the sewers?”
He pulled me into a hug so I could rest my head in the crook of his neck instead of awkwardly against his face. “I’m sorry, no. You really don’t remember past the train?”
I shook my head against his neck and swallowed down the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I only remember Bree laughing and then…” I had to get it together. I took a few more seconds before I straightened up and gave him a wan smile. “Clarence corporation has a lot of enemies.”
“You think that she was the target?”
She? I glanced at the photo of the three of us standing together, perfect smiles and postures in our evening gowns for the camera. This me looked more like Callie than Cassandra. Callie’s plastic surgery had been a little more obvious, too perfect, too luscious, like her lips, larger than my mother would consider tasteful. He thought I was Callie? Come to think of it, she was always falling out with her family and being disinherited. It made sense that she’d be looking for work, worrying about her portfolio and not wanting to tell her parents about her current troubles. My family always had an unbreachable show of unity as far as the media was concerned. Callie made her drama shockingly public at times, particularly when she was drunk, like the time she’d thrown herself at my fiancé and told him loudly that she was in love with him and that Cassandra was too cold and perfect to ever understand what desire was, all of which was overheard and recorded by a socialite who loved to tear down the circles above her.
Callie had apologized a hundred times for that, and every time, I told her that I knew that she didn’t mean it. She’s the one who had introduced me to Philip, hoping that I’d be perfect enough for the picky workaholic. We’d hit it off well, and she’d been delighted. When she caused the drama, she’d been upset because she’d just broken up with her latest boyfriend after he heard about her family disinheriting her. Again. Everyone makes mistakes, and getting drunk publicly was definitely one of them. At any rate, that was years ago, right after Philip and I had gotten engaged.
I could be Callie. In spite of her flaws, she had a business sense and a love of fashion that would marry beautifully once she went forward with her independent business plans that I’d been more than happy to raise funding for.
Except that she was dead. There would be no fashion empire in her future unless she wasn’t actually dead. How many days had it been?
I rubbed my chest to try and breathe around the pain. “So someone killed me and used the fire as an excuse? Do you think the fire was intentional as well?”
His eyes were so soft as he carefully brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “How quickly it spread, how it doesn’t have a clear source? Yes. I think it may have been intentional. Would you like me to craft you a draught to help you with the shock?”
I raised a brow and pulled down his hand. “I’ve slept two days away. I don’t have time to cope with shock. Show me the feed. We’ll have to go to the scene of the crime at some point. If Clarence was targeted, then there should be a trail. It’s usually money.”
“You’re referring to The Detective Warlock’s methods? In my experience, it’s usually madness and power that cause this kind of destruction. We’re dealing with magic here. Nova, I would like you to let me find the killer. I don’t think it would be healthy for you physically or emotionally to dig into the darkness that ripped you apart. You can trust me to pursue your vengeance as far as possible.”
I laughed and cupped his face, gazing into those mesmerizing eyes. “Thank you. I am more grateful than I can ever say that you’re the one who found me, but vengeance is out of the question.”
He blinked at me. “Beg your pardon?”
“Justice, Mercury. I don’t want vengeance, but justice. I’m not going to let you delve into the darkness alone. If watching Vilus has taught me anything, it’s that dark sorcerers need their hands held when they might otherwise lose sight of what’s truly important.”
His brows furrowed in consternation. “And what is truly important, Miss Nova?”
“I’m once more relegated to miss? You’re so French when you do that. Stopping this from happening again is what’s important. Keeping you from becoming as bad as the bad guy that killed me is also essential. Just because you’re a dark sorcerer doesn’t mean you have to be a bad guy.”
“You are going to protect me from being a bad guy? I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Little Nova.”
I winced. “Little Nova? That was even more French than anything else. Admit it.”
He smiled slightly. “I did live in France for some time. If I don’t let you work with me, you’re going to get into trouble on your own, aren’t you?”
“Trouble is my middle name.”
“Nova Trouble Nativitae? That’s about right. Well then, Little Miss Trouble, let me show you the feed of you and your friends at the Singsong station.”
He picked me up and carried me around the desk to the large chair that had been in the painting with the skeleton bird, and sat down with me on his knees. I was slightly shocked at being so close to someone who smelled as delicious as buttery parsnips, but then he opened his sleek, silver laptop with black markings etched into the lid and brought up the train station and the different cameras, and I almost forgot about our proximity. All the time signatures were marked at the places showing me and my friends, so excited, so nervous to have escaped our bodyguards for this day of freedom and indulgence. We stopped to buy churros, and then, as shown by the camera outside, picked up a cab. The cab’s license plate was marked on a little post-it note.
“Do you see anything unusual?” he asked, shifting me so I was leaning more comfortably against him.
“The churro seems odd. We’re always watching our weight, and churros are empty calories, but we were living it up, so I guess it’s not impossible.”
“The churro is suspicious?” He sighed heavily. “Your entire class is creating unrealistic expectations for thousands of people, advertising a standard that isn’t achievable for anyone without a glamour.”
“Or extensive surgery.” I shrugged. “It’s all advertising, like you and your ominous mansion, preaching fear to keep intruders away.”
“Hmph.”
“Ooh lala.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s so attractive when you grumble like a French aristocrat. It makes me want to tie your cravat to a bedpost.”
“Such a shocking thought, particularly when I have no cravat or a bedpost.”
“No cravat? No bedpost? That is shocking.” I sighed and squeezed his hand. “I shouldn’t joke, but it helps me deal with stress.”
He squeezed my hand gently back. “And will keep your head clearer than a draught. Do you want to go over the feed again, or would you like to read the cabbie’s statement?”
“Statement, please. Also, would you like me to bring the chair around so your legs don’t fall asleep? It’s a bit odd that I’m sitting on your lap.” Odd, but so very pleasant.
“Do you know how many times you’ve fallen over lately? You’re sitting securely so that the next time you faint, you don’t fall to your death.”
I elbowed him. I was in the perfect position for it, and he oomphed satisfyingly, even though I didn’t elbow him nearly hard enough for that reaction. “I didn’t faint. I’m not some damsel who faints. Also, I would just come back to life.”
“But you’d be a tripping hazard in the meantime. Think of Bones.”
I sighed heavily. “Yes, we must think of the children.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. The cabbie rambled on for a long time. I don’t think his dogs or last girlfriend are particularly relevant, but I could be wrong.”
I read the cabbie’s statement, and the gist of it was that he picked up the three girls from the station at nine a.m. and drove them to the hotel across the street from the conference center. Also, one of them gave him a churro and told him to keep the change from a hundred.
I nodded sagely. “You see? That churro keeps coming up.”
“Such a suspicious snack. The recordings for the conference center are gone, but the hotel security showed the gems leaving the hotel at one. What did you three do between ten and one?”
I stared at him. “Get murdered and be replaced by doppelgangers?”
“Not likely. One thing of note is that Philip Harrison the fourth was seen entering the hotel at ten twenty.”
I stared at him. He stared back.
“What was he doing at the hotel?”
“One presumes that he was meeting his fiancé.”
“Right. It’s just, I don’t think she was going to see him until later. In fact, I’m sure of it. She definitely wanted to go to the con without him knowing about it.”
“Did she? Are you sure?”
I wrinkled my forehead, trying to remember whether I’d met with Philip. “If only I could remember! I can’t see anything past the train.”
“Easy.” He stood with me and put me on my feet, and then there was a knock on the door. “Enter,” he said, still holding my shoulders, standing behind me as solid as a wall.
Bones came in with a large tray absolutely heaped with sandwiches, cookies, and a big pot of chamomile tea.
“On the side table, please.”
Bones set down the tray and then smiled at me. “Master ordered the tea from a special shop so that you will get better faster.”
I smiled back at him. “He’s a very good master.”
Bones nodded and then glanced at Mercury before he hurried out, leaving us alone.
Mercury leaned down to murmur in my ear, “I am only the master of the dead. Are you safe standing on your own or do you need me to carry you to the table?”
His breath made me shiver in the weirdest way, or maybe that was his low voice sounding so intimate. “And then what? There are no chairs over there. You’d better leave me to stand on my own, as dangerous as that is.”
“Hmph.” He set me back in his chair, which was surprisingly comfortable, and then went over to make me a plate. “No one is questioning why Philip went to the hotel to see his fiancé. She must have changed her plan during the time that you can’t remember.”
“Or he’s involved in the murder.”
He raised a brow. “I highly doubt it.”
“Why? Does he have an alibi during the fire?”
“Because he was desperately in love with his fiancé and is incredibly respectable.”
“He used to be a musician. Ran away from home to pursue his art. How respectable could he be?”
“Did he? Then he must be a brutal murderer.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You seem to want him to have killed you.”
“I don’t. It’s just that if there was a murderer, who else would have known we were there?”
“I don’t know, maybe every member of The Detective Warlock , as well as the thousands of people who were at the con, and then the millions who are following you on social media?”
I shook my head. “No way. I had my friend working on it. She’d be taking down posts as quickly as they went up, and we were being subtle.”
“Baseball hats and sunglasses are subtle?”
I shrugged. “And we were wearing clothing from big box stores. Jeans and t-shirts. We blended.”
He stared at me for a long time. “Of course you did.”
“We did. There were so many people on the train for the con. No one looked at us twice. It’s not like the three gems were known for their obsession with the show.”
“Obsession?”
“Obsession,” I said firmly.
“Even Clarence?”
“Especially Clarence. She didn’t want to see Philip before she got to ogle the cast. He’d be in the way.”
He blinked at me. “Philip Harrison is far more handsome than anyone else on the cast of that show.”
“Yes, but he’s not dangerous.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t tell me she had a thing for Vilus.”
I shrugged. All the goblins had a thing for the dark sorcerer and Mercury. “How do you know what Philip looks like? And you think you know his character? Don’t tell me you stalk him.”
He raised a brow and looked mysterious. “We have had business in the past.”
I waited expectantly, then prodded him when he didn’t say anything else. “What kind of business? In fact, what is your business? Maybe you could employ me. I’m very good with numbers.”
“They call me, ‘The Dealer.’”
I studied him curiously. “Drug dealer? You did offer to make me a draught.”
“Antiquities. As in ancient artifacts that are bought, bartered, or obtained in other more strenuous ways.”
“And Philip wanted some art from you? That sounds like him. He has extremely good taste in spite of being so respectable.”
“Yes, he wanted some art from me.”
“What piece was it? Maybe I know it.”
“You don’t know it, because I wouldn’t sell.”
“Oh. Why not? Did someone else buy it out from under him? How shocking that anyone else would dare.”
“I still have it in my collection. At any rate, I highly doubt that Philip has anything to gain from your death or any of the other gems.”
“No, but if he went to the hotel, then he has facts I don’t.” I eyed him where he glowered back at me, so suspiciously while he held the untouched plate. “You could offer him the art, get him alone, and then I could interrogate him. I’m part goblin, so I’m sure my methods would be extremely effective.” My incredibly persuasive speech was interrupted by my stomach rumbling. I put my hand on it while he raised a brow, then looked down at the plate.
“Can I have a cookie?” I asked sweetly.
He put the entire thing on his desk in front of me. “You can have all the cookies, all the sandwiches, and all the tea. It is all for you. I forgot, again, about the eating. You are insatiable.”
I snickered and took a drink of the lukewarm tea. “That’s what they say, Insatiable Nova, the live girl. Well, what do you think about getting Philip alone to question him?”
“I think that I’m the last person he’d answer to. And you with this face wouldn’t be recognizable, would it?” His words softened at the end, like he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.
My feelings were hurt anyway, because he was right. I was unrecognizably grotesque now. Philip wouldn’t treat me like a princess ever again. I started picking apart a sandwich out of nerves, but I didn’t burst into tears. “Then what do you suggest?”
“Other than moving onto another suspect and finding a different angle? He’ll be at the memorial along with a vast array of her worshippers. You could ask questions there. Claim to have worked for her, in her fashion or humanitarian branches.”
Because I wouldn’t have been fit to be in any other place in the Clarence corporation. I stopped trying to smile. I just nodded and stuffed the sandwich in my mouth. Cucumbers and tuna with a hint of lemongrass. Lovely. I’d have to find out what tea shop he’d ordered these things from. Not that I could order anything on my own.
I chewed, swallowed, and then smiled brightly. “Perfect! And how convenient that all the armored goblin gear is black. I’m sure I’ll fit right in.”
“Very well. I’ll tell Bones to wash the car.”
I grabbed his hand as he moved away, holding tight while my heart pounded so painfully. It hurt to be alive, to feel all these things, to have connections dangling and torn that had been severed. My fingers could grow back, but my old life was ashes.
“Miss Nova?” he asked, voice barely a murmur, but with so much compassion. I shivered before I released his hand and smiled up at him, shaking my head.
“It’s nothing, just…thank you. For everything.”