Out of Tune Page 10

  “Marks?” Slate stalked around the bed and joined me.

  I waved outside, and he leaned out to have a look.

  “Those are deep,” he murmured. “Something with claws climbed three stories to get to Daha.”

  “So, that rules out Beneathers with wings; they could have simply flown,” Aaro said. “But many Beneathers have claws.”

  “Why scale the wall instead of breaking in on the ground floor?” I asked.

  Slate's expression flashed with fury so sudden and so sharp that I took a step back.

  “Slate?” I asked warily.

  “I am tired of my zone being fucked with!” Slate snarled as he turned toward Aaro. “I want this killer found! Whoever they are, they are planning something far worse than a single murder.” He waved a hand at Daha.

  “I think you're right,” Aaro agreed. “The only reason to kill a seer is to prevent him from sharing what he saw. And if that's the case, it means that we either missed something during the incident with Gargo's blood or something else is coming.”

  “Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

  “What?” Slate growled.

  “When I asked Daha what was happening in the Zone, he said many things were happening; more than I thought or could expect.”

  “I will not allow anything else to hurt my zone!” Slate snapped. “If we fail to make the Zone safe again, all of the people who trust us to provide that safety will abandon us.”

  “I know, Brother,” Aaro said gently. “We'll secure the Zone; it's what we do. We will find the villain and kill him.”

  “Or her,” I murmured as I wandered back to Daha. I laid my hand over his. “I'm so sorry, Daha. You didn't deserve this.”

  Something crinkled. I froze.

  “I'm going to talk to Achira,” Slate spoke over the soft sound, missing it entirely, and headed for the door.

  “She's with Binx.” Aaro hurried after Slate. “Perhaps you should let him question her.”

  “As if I'm going to leave that to Binx,” Slate growled.

  My stomach clenched. We had cleansed Slate. I saw Darc's blood affect him. Maybe I was being overly sensitive but he still seemed off. All of this seemed off. The things Slate had said that morning... the way he talked about love as if it confused him. It made me hesitate. I didn't say anything about the paper I knew was clasped in the dead man's hands. I waited for the brothers to leave the room before I investigated.

  I pried open Daha's fingers and found, as I expected, a folded piece of paper. Written on the outside were the words; Do not read this here, Elaria. I took a shocked, shaky breath and quickly shoved the paper down my bra. I heard the men speaking to Achira in the other room. I'd have only a few moments before they wondered why I wasn't joining them. I used that time to reposition Daha's hands.

  “You knew,” I whispered to the body, my eyes filling with tears. “You knew death was coming for you and you met it bravely. You used it as a chance to deliver me a message. Thank you, Daha.” I smoothed his hair back; he was hood-less and with his eyes closed, he looked human. “I hope you've found peace. For what it's worth, you have the blessing of a reborn Goddess.”

  I kissed his forehead, hoping that the blessing helped him in his afterlife. Then I swiped at my eyes and composed myself before I walked out of the room and entered the one next door. Binx sat on a low couch—looking like a damn pasha—with his beefy arm around Achira and his angry stare on Slate.

  “If you don't get the fuck out of this room right now, Brother,” Binx snarled, “you will regret it.”

  Slate growled; as in the sound. There were no words to it but a hell of a lot of threat.

  “Stop it!” I hissed and stepped between them. “A man lies dead in the room next door and you two are fighting in front of his sister? What's wrong with you?” I glared at Slate then Binx.

  “He wants to question Achira as if she's the criminal!” Binx waved a furious hand toward Slate.

  “Not like a criminal,” Slate disputed. “Like a witness! She may know something that could help us find her brother's killer.”

  “All right. All right.” I held up my hands. “I will speak to Achira. Slate, please wait outside with Aaro. Binx will stay here with her.”

  “Elaria, this is my zone—”

  “Slate, please wait outside,” I emphasized the entreaty and gave him a heavy look. “I'm less threatening than you are.”

  Slate made a scoffing sound.

  “In appearance, at least,” I amended.

  “I would prefer that,” Achira said softly.

  I looked at Slate pointedly.

  “Fine,” Slate growled, spun on his heels, and stomped outside.

  Aaro followed him with a grateful look my way and closed the door behind them. I went to Achira and crouched on the carpet before her then took her hand.

  “I am so very sorry for your loss,” I whispered past the tears that rose. “Your brother paid a price for helping me, and I deeply regret that.”

  “No.” Achira clutched at my hand. “Don't do that, Your Majesty. Daha knew what would happen. I think he knew it the moment Binx requested an audience. It was his choice. I knew that when I found him dead this morning.”

  I nodded. “I thought as much. He looked so...”

  “Peaceful,” she finished for me as a fresh wave of tears poured down her cheeks. “Whatever Daha told you, it was important.”

  “He helped to save the Zone.”

  “It must be more than that.” She shook her head. “He wouldn't sacrifice himself for a zone.”

  “When I say 'zone' I mean all of the people who live here, including the Zone Lord,” I said gently. “Your brother is a hero; he saved thousands of lives.”

  “Ah.” A soft smile made it through her tears. “Now, that sounds worthy of a sacrifice.”

  “Did he leave you a letter?” I asked.

  “A letter?” She blinked.

  “A goodbye note. He knew he was going to die; surely he'd want to say goodbye to you.”

  “I don't know.” She got to her feet.

  I rose with Achira but waited with Binx as she looked around her bedroom pensively. After a few seconds, she went to a rounded, squat dresser. A gilded jewelry box sat atop it. Achira opened the lid and inhaled sharply. There, sitting upon her a nest of gold and gems, was a folded note.

  “Oh, Daha,” Achira whispered as she snatched the letter up. She dropped the jewelry box lid and unfolded the letter eagerly. Her eyes widened and overflowed with more tears as a trembling hand went to her lips.

  “What does it say?” Binx asked as he went to stand beside her.

  “It says goodbye,” she murmured. “He tells me he loves me and will be watching over me.”

  “Does he name his killer?” I asked.

  “No.” She scowled. “He says that he cannot tell me because it would only make things worse.”

  “Can I see it?” Binx asked and held out his hand.

  Achira handed him the letter, and Binx scowled as he read. I glanced at the paper hidden in my cleavage then at the door.

  “Fuck,” Binx cursed. “My brothers will want to see this.” He headed out.

  “Binx!” I stopped him.

  “What?” He glowered back at me.

  I looked pointedly at Achira.

  “Oh.” Binx grimaced. “I'm sorry, Achira. Is it okay if I show them your letter?”

  Achira nodded.

  As Binx left, I went to her. “Is there anything else that you remember? Anything odd about last night? Did you hear anything perhaps?”

  Achira's eyes creased with thought then widened. “I did hear something! I heard my brother speaking to someone. I didn't think much of it, with his profession it happens a lot, but he might have been conversing with his killer.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I couldn't hear the words,” she said regretfully. “But I heard someone respond to him.”

  “And you didn't think that wasn't odd?”

&n
bsp; “No; Daha will channel spirits and they speak with his voice but sometimes they sound different. I thought it was that. I never considered that someone could be physically in the room with him.”

  “I don't suppose you recognized the voice?” I asked without much hope.

  “No, but it was definitely male; very low in tone.”

  “That helps.” I took her hand and squeezed it. “We now know the killer is a man.”

  “How do we know that?” Slate demanded as he came into the room.

  “Achira heard him,” I explained.

  Slate's stare went sharp and sliced to the Nagini. “You heard the killer?”

  “She didn't recognize the voice,” I hurried to answer for her. “She only knows it was male.”

  “What did this man say?” Slate asked.

  “I couldn't hear that either,” Achira whispered.

  Slate sighed. “Very well. Thank you, Achira. I know this is hard for you, and I appreciate your help. We'll leave you to mourn your brother but we'll keep you informed about the investigation. I promise you that I will do my best to find the man who murdered Daha.”

  “Thank you, Zone Lord.” Achira bowed respectfully.

  I hugged her and whispered, “We will find whoever did this.”

  Achira nodded and drew away. Binx immediately replaced me.

  “Come on, babe,” Binx said gruffly as he escorted her back to the couch. “Sit down. I'll get you a drink.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured and crumpled into his arms.

  I left the room with Slate and Aaro, Daha's other dying declaration wedged against my breast.

  Chapter Twenty

  Slate started snapping orders as soon as Achira's bedroom door closed behind us.

  “I want the lockdown reinstated and patrols in every neighborhood.”

  Aaro nodded.

  “Garrick!” Slate shouted at one of the Gargoyles guarding the front door. “Get photos of the scratches outside Daha's window. I want them analyzed. There must be a way to compare them to claw marks from different races. If we have to get a sample from every race in the Zone, so be it.”

  “Yes, Sir!” Garrick ran upstairs.

  “Once we have it narrowed down to a race, we can start interrogations,” Slate said to his brother.

  “Slate, we can't just bring in people and start—”

  “We can and we will!” Slate growled in Aaro's face. “Now go set the lockdown.”

  Aaro stormed away, out of the front door ahead of us. Slate grabbed my hand and dragged me after him and over to his car. He opened the door for me but kept staring at Aaro, who was getting into a Jeep parallel-parked next to us. Slate narrowed his eyes at his brother. I got into the car silently. He slammed my door and strode around to the driver's side. Got in. Grasped the wheel. Glowered.

  “Slate?” I asked hesitantly.

  “I'm fine, Elaria.”

  “I don't think you are.”

  Slate rolled his neck, grimacing through the pops and cracks. Aaro sped past. He glared after him. Then he started the car.

  My hands were shaking. I didn't know what to do or say to calm him down. I didn't even know if calming was what he needed. If Slate was still infected, he'd need more of Darc's blood but how would I get him to take it? He wouldn't agree to it, and I had no reason to bring Darc back to the Zone. We'd have to gang up on him again. A fucking intervention.

  If that's what this was.

  I glanced at Slate as he sped through the Zone. His expression had shut down and his body was strung tight enough to snap. He'd taken a lot of hits recently and every win seemed to come with a setback. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with him beyond that; a frustrated and furious man trying to work with the hand he'd been dealt. The paper dug into my tender skin as if in rebuke.

  Perhaps you should leave the Zone, my love, Kyanite said gently in my mind.

  Leave Slate? I countered in horror.

  Yeah, leave Slate! RS backed up Ky for once. He's giving me the willies. This ain't normal, girl! Get the fuck out of Dodge! You can come back later with a Shining One army.

  Slate won't hurt me, I insisted. Not even under the control of Gargo's blood.

  We don't know what this is, my love, Kyanite argued. Darc's blood seemed to free Slate, that's true. This could be as you hypothesized; a reaction to strain. Or it could be something else. As you said; Daha told you that many things were happening here. But regardless of what has caused this behavior, Slate is not himself. He just locked down the Zone again, and I fear that he'll seal the wards so that even you can't get out.

  I'm not abandoning him. Nor am I frightened by him. If it came down to a fight between us, I would win.

  Yeah? RS asked snidely. How'd you do the last time Slate was against you? I seem to remember you locked in a cell.

  I'm not wearing a collar anymore.

  Slate pulled into the Gargoyle compound and parked before the main barracks, also known as Headquarters. I started to unbuckle my seat belt but he put a hand out to stop me.

  “I just need to grab something; wait here.”

  He left me gaping after him.

  Read the letter! RS urged.

  I waited a moment for Slate to go inside then yanked the paper out of my bra. I flipped it open and scanned the message:

  Elaria Tanager, Do not blame yourself for my death. I chose the easiest option; the least painful. I could have fought it but that would only have led to a more gruesome fate. I accept this end gratefully. He will not make me suffer; it will be quick. No, I cannot tell you who did this to me, it will cost you too much if I do. You will come to the knowledge soon and be better equipped to understand and act upon it then. What I can tell you is that your first conclusion will be wrong. Remember that. And one other thing—I beg you to heed me on this if nothing else—seek the Blue Dragon. Only he can save you now.

  “Holy fuck,” I whispered.

  Slate's coming back! Put that thing away! RS screeched.

  I jolted out of my shock and folded the paper before shoving it back into my bra. Slate emerged seconds later, a leather bag in his hand and a strained expression on his face. He climbed into the driver's seat, tossed the bag at me, and started the engine. I peered inside the satchel as he pulled out of the compound.

  “Slate,” I whispered, another shock adding to the previous.

  Inside the bag was a collar; one of the metal bands the Gargoyles put around the necks of arena prisoners when they're brought in. The collars control Beneather magic, suppressing it until the corresponding receiver triggers its release. The remote that controlled this collar was in the bag too, along with a key that would open it.

  “I don't feel right, sweetheart,” Slate announced without looking at me. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I know you sense it too. If I'm still being affected by Gargo's blood, I have to rein in my power before it's used against us. I told Aaro that he's temporarily in control of the Zone.”

  “Slate, no.”

  “What else can I do?” He asked helplessly. “Lock myself in a jail cell?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “I'll put myself under house arrest,” he went on. “I need you to watch me.”

  “And then what?”

  Slate glanced at me again and his dark look spoke volumes.

  “Slate!”

  “Then we get more of Darc's blood in me.”

  “And if that doesn't work?”

  “We find another solution.”

  I went silent. I didn't want to tell Slate how relieved I was. Not that he was still infected but that there was enough of him left to fight it. The collar wouldn't fix him but it would limit his ability to harm people. And, to be completely honest, I was glad this wasn't him; that the man I loved hadn't buckled under the strain and turned into a violent dictator.

  Slate parked before the palace then rushed me up the stairs and inside. He locked the doors behind us; first the front and then the bedroom doors. When we
were safely ensconced in our suite, he pulled out the collar and held it before him. His hands trembled. I had wondered why he hadn't put the collar on immediately and here was my answer. He couldn't do it. I went to Slate and reached for the collar.

  “Let me.”

  “No.” He held on and met my stare. “I need to do this myself. It's about time I got a taste of my own medicine, eh?” He attempted a grin and failed. “Just stand beside me, sweetheart. That's all I need.”