Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
“ A re you certain you wish to do this?” Mercury asked as we settled into the backseat, Bones at the wheel.
I hesitated and then grabbed his hand. “Yes, but do you mind? Your hand helps, and you haven’t hugged me for ages.”
He squeezed me gently back. “I think you sitting on my chair with me counted as hugging.”
“It did not.”
“I think it did.”
“Hmph.”
His eyes gleamed, but his face was passive. “Are you telling me that you’re secretly French, Miss Nova?”
“I’m telling you that your hugging know-how is deplorable.”
I tapped my leather pants leg with my unoccupied hand. I’d been taught not to fidget, but I was going to my own funeral. My parents would be there. No, not funeral, memorial. What if I had to talk to my mother and burst into tears, and somehow she knew, and…What would she do? She’d set me up with a new ID and a bank account, but she’d look at me with those sharp, analytical eyes and take in every flaw, every sign and proof that I wasn’t good enough for the company, for my name.
He covered my twitching hand with his. “If you wish to leave at any point, we’ll go. If you don’t wish to go in, we’ll stay out. I have many spies that I can use to find out whatever information we need.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. Bones turned on the radio and classical piano poured out of the stereo, wrapping me in peace and comfort, similar to what I felt with his hand around mine.
When the car stopped, I straightened up and gave Mercury a confident smile. “Be sure to eat the refreshments. Most of the people here are on a starvation diet, so the excellent catering will be wasted.” How strange to say out loud the things I’d always thought and kept to myself.
He pursed his sultry lips. “Surely it will be donated to one of the shelters.” He made even that sound suggestive.
I smiled brightly and then got out to stand at the bottom of the steps of the large stone hall, an official government building in Apple City that was used for political rallies much more often than funerals. My mother was making this a state event then. Maybe she’d use this devastation to catapult her into the mayor’s office.
Mercury stopped beside me and held out his arm. “Shall we?”
I swallowed and nodded, but I didn’t take his arm. I just walked beside him, hunched into myself, trying not to be seen with my bald head and crooked mouth. Mercury fell in beside me as we walked up the broad stone steps towards the tall pillars that were bedecked in large swags in my signature blue. That’s the color my contacts had been, the color of most of my wardrobe. It was an extremely impactful statement, all that blue, all that death. My memory would live on forever, eternal youth preserved in my untimely death, and wrapped in a big blue bow, like the enormous buntings we had to pass under.
I grabbed Mercury’s arm, already feeling like this was the worst idea I’d ever had. “You should have worn one of Bones’s suits,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’m sure he has at least a few blue ones.”
“Hmph. Indeed. Next time I go to a funeral, I’ll be certain to dress more festively.” His words were terse. Did he disapprove of blue over black? It wasn’t traditional, but it made a stirring statement.
“Indeed. One should always celebrate the dead. They are, after all, far preferable to the living.”
He glanced at me, slight amusement in the curve of his lips, and then we reached the entrance. He had his mask of cold indifference in place, but I could see the rising irritation as we walked amidst the crowds of well-dressed influencers. I flinched when my laughing voice cut through the air, but when I looked up, it was only the recording hanging on the wall, the massive screen showing me visiting sick children at the nicest hospital for a photo op. Ah. She was making me a saint now that I was dead. It was impressive to see my mother’s refusal to ever miss an opportunity in action. Also depressing. Fine, mostly depressing. I guess it was good to be useful to the company, even in death.
The walls were plastered with screens showing me in various states of perfection. No one could be so perfect, but I had been glaringly, painfully perfect, and now all of that was on display for the world to see. Every one of those outfits would become a bestseller.
I gripped Mercury’s arm tighter while he walked with purpose, not distracted by the images of the most beautiful woman in the world. When we reached the line for those waiting to offer their condolences, the people ahead of us parted, like they knew a dark sorcerer when they saw one and wanted nothing to do with him. In other words, I had no time to chat anyone up or ask any telling questions. Not that I seemed to be capable of doing anything other than letting Mercury pull me along. I wasn’t ready for this, not emotionally, not mentally, not at all. My heart pounded too fast, and I was having a hard time catching my breath.
My lips trembled as we got closer and closer to my parents, who stood next to the largest display of my life, a full-size statue that they’d commissioned for the country house garden. They’d dragged it here? It made Mercury’s words, calling the people here my ‘worshippers,’ too poignant. My mother was pushing me past saint and into the pantheon. This really was too much, not subtle or understated at all. But think of the profits.
When we reached the platform where my parents greeted guests and accepted condolences, my stomach was twisted and tangled with nausea, and that was before I saw Philip standing past my mother in the line. His handsomeness was a physical shock. I found Mercury attractive and dangerous, but Philip was an absolute prince that glowed in the light, from his eyes to his golden hair, just glowed. He’d been nominated as sexiest man in the world more times than I could count, and looking at him objectively, knowing that I wasn’t anywhere close to his sphere of beauty and charm, I was slightly in awe that he had been mine. Of course, I’d been a saint, and a diamond, and an heiress, so we’d matched.
He looked grief stricken, but still perfect from the glittering teeth to the dark blue suit he wore to show that he was almost sad enough to use black. He had no circles under his eyes, no traces of suffering other than a slight tightening on the edges of his mouth. I couldn’t read him. I’d never been able to read much past my fiancé’s surface.
Could he possibly be responsible for the gruesome murder of me and my friends, not to mention the others who had died in the fire? What was he doing at the hotel before the conference? Did he know I was in Singsong City? Who else would have known? I needed to talk to him, but he was so far above me. I was the ugly duckling amidst a herd of swans, when I’d used to be the loveliest swan of all.
He met my gaze, and I realized that I’d been staring. By the way he smiled, I knew that he was giving me a polite rejection, because he was still in love with his dead fiancé and couldn’t possibly consider anything else until his poor heart mended. I looked away, stomach churning.
“Monsieur Mercury, thank you for coming,” my father said in his most obsequious voice as he took Mercury’s hand and shook it with both of his.
“What happened to your daughter is a tragedy,” Mercury said coldly, lacking all the compassion you’d expect to get from someone attending a funeral service. My father knew Mercury. Wait, Monsieur Mercury? I was right about him being French!
I stepped on his foot, and he glanced at me.
“May I introduce my companion, Miss Nova?” he said.
No, that’s not why I stepped on his foot. The last thing I wanted was for my dad to look at me, eyes dull with grief, my own tears welling up as I stared at him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I choked out.
He patted my shoulder and pulled out a tissue to dab at his moist eyes. “They say the pain lessens with time.”
My mother stepped forward, and I stiffened up, prepared for her polite smile and thanks. She looked just strained enough without actually diminishing the appeal of her perfection. Instead of politeness, to my absolute shock, she gave Mercury a look of contempt that made my stomach drop into my toes. My poor stomach.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Mercury gave her a respectful bow. “I’ve come to pay my respects. Whatever differences we may have had in the past, we can come together for the sake of your daughter.”
Philip stepped up and gave Mercury a look so cold, I expected my breath to smoke up. “No, we really can’t. You aren’t welcome here, Dealer.” He’d definitely inferred that Mercury dealt drugs and other highly shocking substances with his tone, as contemptuous as my mother’s look.
How had I missed this drama? There was clearly loads of it between Philip, my mother, and Mercury. What could he possibly have done to make everyone angry?
My dad patted Philip’s shoulder, making my fiancé, or ex-fiancé, break his gaze. “Now, now, don’t bring business into this.” As if my mother could possibly stop thinking about business. “We’re here to mourn, to remember, and to pay respects. This is about my daughter.”
Philip looked positively ashamed, and his skin went slightly waxy for a moment. “Of course.”
My mother was still looking at Mercury coldly, but it was not blatantly antagonistic.
I swallowed hard and then said in a screechy little voice that was sure to impress everybody, “How is the case coming?”
My mother noticed me for the first time. “Case? My daughter’s death was a terrible accident, but no one suspects the fire of being intentional.” Her voice was so elegant, refined, like my voice had been before I died. Her eyes were cold, though. So cold, and the way she was looking at me, Mercury’s companion, it wasn’t flattering. Not that I’d thought it would be with my stubbly head and my creepy eyes.
I cleared my throat and edged closer to Mercury’s warmth.
“Of course,” Mercury said, giving another bow. “I thought that I would offer my services if there were any hint of purposeful harm. However, if it is already a closed case, I offer only my condolences for the death of your fair daughter and her other two friends. I find it peculiar that there are no photos of either of them.”
“They had separate services,” my father said, looking sad. “We though it only fitting that no single life take more attention than any other.”
Mercury narrowed his eyes at him and said, “Of course,” like that made sense, only it didn’t. He pulled me past them, finished with the unpleasant job of speaking to live humans who didn’t have the decency to wear black at their own daughter’s funeral. My mother did look slightly too festive in the blue that matched her eyes as well as it had mine. Not that my eyes were actually that color. Were hers pale and creepy as well? What was the drama that would bring out my mother’s claws in public? I had to know.
Mercury led me directly to the hall with the catering. It was an extremely well-catered function, as I’d known it would be. He started at one table and made a plate of all the best things that he gave to me, looking too tall and brooding to eat in public, but caring for his pathetic dead conscientiously.
I nibbled on a prosciutto wrapped breadstick and tried not to notice the way people were looking at me. Well, mostly Mercury, because everyone was dying to know the drama, but me as someone who was with a dark sorcerer who had dared attend a respectable social function wearing leather and light armor.
“Mercury,” a striking gentleman with dark red hair said, coming up to us with hand outstretched. “You really shouldn’t have come. Stirring things up after she’s already dead? That’s beyond bad manners.”
Mercury ignored the hand, looking bored and French. “Vincent, one of the few perks of being a dark sorcerer is that I don’t have to mind my manners.”
I elbowed him. “Seriously, Mercury, you’re going to get us thrown out.”
He sighed heavily, looking down at me with amusement glinting in his eye. “That would be a pity considering the fact that we are only here for the catering, and we haven’t eaten a breadstick.”
The redhead cleared his throat, looking at me like he’d just noticed me. I was sensing a theme. “You’re here with Mercury? Are you his bodyguard?”
I blinked at him. “No. I’m his…” What was I? He’d never officially hired me for anything, or I’d have benefits.
“Miss Nova is a friend of mine,” Mercury said smoothly, smiling charmingly as he angled us so he was between myself and Vincent. “She’s going to get more figs while you lecture me about my bad manners. Otherwise, I’m afraid she would die of boredom.”
Vincent looked concerned, maybe slightly horrified, but his voice was even. “You brought a friend to Cassandra Clarence’s memorial? Bad manners don’t cover that kind of behavior. That’s outright…” His brows drew together, searching for the word. “vile,” he finally said. “Like the time you came to my own ball and propositioned my wife.”
I took two steps away from Mercury and his friend. My heart ached at the thought of Mercury pursuing someone else. How stupid. I had enough things to make my heart ache. I didn’t need jealousy to add on top of everything else. “I’m going to get some figs. You two have a lovely chat.” I almost ran back to the table with the figs, trying to not look like I cared about whatever Mercury did with other people’s wives.
I was so focused on not looking at Mercury, I didn’t notice Philip until he spoke.
“Do you have any idea how deplorable your date is?” Philip’s voice came from directly behind me, so close that I jumped and almost lost my figs with blue cheese. I carefully put it on my plate next to my prosciutto wrapped breadsticks and turned to face him. It was a shock to see him up close. Even though I’d just barely seen him, he looked even more perfect and glowing than ever while I’d fallen completely off the table and gotten rolled over by a dump truck. Me and my stubby fingers. But this was exactly the person that I needed to talk to.
“He’s a dark sorcerer. I haven’t personally watched him rip out someone’s heart and eat it, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I understand that you were at the hotel at ten-thirty on the morning of Cassandra Clarence’s passing. Did you see her?”
He raised a brow, looking at me curiously. “You’re a fan of Cassandra? You want more gory details of her death? Would that give you some sick and twisted thrill?” His contempt was clear.
I stared at him while tears rose up in my eyes. “You aren’t as nice as you seem from a distance.”
His eyes widened, surprised. “Do I seem nice? My fiancé just died, burned to death, along with dozens of others. But you want details? Fine. I’ll tell you everything you want to know if you tell your boyfriend to sell me what’s rightfully mine.”
Oh, the art drama. “What art did he not sell you? It’s just art. Find something else to want.”
He laughed, a kind of satire of laughter and then leaned close enough that I thought for a second he was going to kiss me. No, of course he wouldn’t do that, not anymore. “Mercury commissioned a statue from the same artist that did the one set up behind her parents.”
Oh, he meant the garden house statue that they’d dragged here for my memorial. “He likes art. He commissioned a statue. You can’t deny the artist the chance to have more than one customer.”
His eyes burned as he spat, “It’s made of blue diamond, and is using my fiancé's face and body as reference. The artist should be sued.”
I stared at him. “He commissioned a statue in blue diamond? Why?”
He shook his head slightly. “He’s here because he was obsessed with her. I just hope she never met him face to face.”
Mercury commissioned a statue of Cassandra Clarence in blue diamond? That was beyond telling. “You really think Mercury was obsessed with your fiancé?” It wasn’t strange that any man was obsessed with her, or me in the past tense, but Mercury? How depressing. One thing was certain, if he liked her, there wasn’t any chance that I was his type anymore. Not that there ever had been.
“Why else would he commission such a thing?”
I sighed and patted his arm. It was so weird to be the invisible ugly girl who wasn’t pretty enough to tempt anybody, but was easy to talk to. “I’ll talk to him about it. Maybe he’ll actually listen to me. It isn’t likely, you know, if she’s his type, I certainly wouldn’t be, but stranger things have happened. So, now that I’ve agreed, what were you doing at the hotel at ten-thirty?”
He narrowed those pretty blue eyes, then sighed. “I suppose that was the deal. I didn’t expect Mercury’s companion to be reasonable. That morning, I was meeting with some members from the show, The Detective Warlock, and ran into Cassandra in the lobby. I didn’t expect to see her there, but I thought it was good for her to get away. She worked too hard. Now I wish she’d kept working and never ditched her bodyguards.”
I patted his arm again. “I’m sorry. Why were you meeting with the cast of the show? Can you give me specific names?”
He pursed his perfect lips as he studied me. “Why are you asking these questions? Why would Mercury’s companion be interested in Cassandra Clarence’s death?”
“Does it matter? We had an agreement.”
“And you’ll actually try to persuade Mercury?” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously mussing it. He looked even better with it slightly ruffled. “I’m one of the show’s producers. That means I partially fund it. I had a meeting with Winston, but several of the crew were there. The meeting didn’t go as planned because I saw Cassandra in the lobby, and several of the cast members were her fans, so we made a plan to meet later. Winston invited her for a private meeting, and I tried not to resent it.”
“What about Callie and Bree?”
“She called up to their room, and they met us in the meeting room.”
“You didn’t notify her parents about where she was?”
His jaw clenched. “No. She’s a grown woman. I always thought her mother was too controlling, but…” He studied me suspiciously. “Are you trying to get a story out of me? You don’t look like a reporter, just a sketchy bouncer at the local werewolf club where you keep in the riffraff. Maybe next time you attend a funeral, dress in something resembling a dress.” He glanced down at my long-sleeved black shirt and the armored vest underneath it. His look was so absolutely unappreciative. Every time a handsome, eligible man looked at me, it was filled with glowing approval and desire. In spite of everything, that’s what I expected. Having Philip look at me like that, the slightest curl to his lip as he took in my lack of charms went to my head.
I asked, “Where were you at the time of the fire?”
He scowled at me. “Are you trying to accuse me of somehow starting the fire? You’re absurd. You must be playing detective, but the fire was a devastating tragedy that no one could have stopped.”
“I was actually referring to the fact that somebody cut off all her fingers, but you’re right, I’m absurd.”
His eyes widened as he stared at me, and I kept my fists tightly clenched. “Who are you?” he finally said. “How would you know anything about her death?”
“I was at the scene. I saw her body. I don’t know why the Clarences aren’t doing a thorough investigation of the fire and their deaths. I wonder if they have something to hide, like you.”
He gave me a solid glare. “Now we’re all in on her murder? I’m sure you don’t understand, being the sort of woman who has never had a man’s fervent adoration, but I would never do anything to harm my fiancé. She is…Was,” he corrected with another slight twitch of his eye. “Perfection. I worshipped Cassandra Clarence. Everyone did. I see that you lack understanding.” He gave me one more look-over, this time showing a lot more of his contempt and disgust, before he turned and walked away to accept someone else’s condolences with a smile tinged with grief.
I was almost sure that he didn’t have anything to do with the killer. Good. Excellent, but at the same time, that last glance had cut me to the bone, spilling out all the festering emotions that I’d been trying to keep buried so I didn’t throw myself off a building. Mercury would hate putting me back together again afterwards.
“If you’re finished interrogating guests…” Mercury murmured low, standing behind my left shoulder.
I dropped my plate on the table and turned, coming up against him. He was warm, solid, and he didn’t flinch away from me. He could handle close contact with the most revolting creatures imaginable. I stood on my tiptoes in my borrowed combat boots, slid my hands around his neck, and pressed my lips to his.
I’d clearly lost my mind. One didn’t kiss sorcerers, particularly at funerals, particularly at your own funeral, but everything was madness, in my head, and outside, in this world where my voice, my laughter, kept running in the background, a voice I didn’t have, narrating a life I’d never live.
And my fiancé had looked at me like that. I needed to feel wanted. It wasn’t a logical thing to throw yourself at someone who disliked alive people when you couldn’t bear rejection, but I did, and after a beat of his lips and body freezing in shock at the close contact, he placed his hands around my back and kissed me like…
Fire and flood. Thunder and rage. Hunger mixed with this aching compassion that had me melting against him as all the tension left my body in a rush of relief.
I kissed him back, uncertain at first, but then his taste was so rich and delicious, so tantalizingly unknown, a flavor and texture unlike anything I’d ever dreamed of. Whenever I’d put something in my mouth as a child, my mother had said, ‘Only goblins put whatever they like in their mouth.’ Apparently, whatever I wanted was him. Goblins got to do what they wanted with their mouths, so I did.