Marked, page 17
Well. Almost everywhere.
Two corpses lay on separate slabs in the centre of the room with sheets covering the entire length of their bodies—presumably Dita and Shona.
“I need to take care of a few things. You have about half an hour before we leave.” Paul slipped out the door and left me alone with two dead bodies and Ace.
“Shouldn’t they be stored on ice or in one of those magic freezing rooms?” Ace waved at the wall of cadaver storage.
“Maybe? I’m not a coroner. Maybe they only get stored there after the autopsy is concluded. But it’s more likely Paul arranged to have them left out for us.”
“Then let’s get to work.” Ace approached the first body and pulled down the sheet to expose her face.
I sucked in a breath. Dita.
Ace’s gaze slid to study my face. “Did you know her?”
“Not well.” I lifted my chin in the direction of Dita’s body. “Just hard to see someone I knew like this, you know? It’s the colouring and stiffness that makes it not seem quite real.”
Ace nodded and pulled the blanket down farther to expose Dita’s chest. Right between her ample breasts, a gaping wound stared back at us. Arrows usually made clean cuts going in, but someone must’ve ripped out the weapon roughly because the edges of Dita’s wound were jagged and hideous.
“The arrow went straight through the breastbone.” Ace studied the injury. “Phaan of a shot.”
“Phaan of an arrow.” The breastbone was strong. The archer had to have used quality arrowheads and must’ve drawn a bow large enough to exert that much force.
Ace grunted and pulled off one of his gloves, tucking it under his arm. Without a word, he laid the flat of his palm over the wound. He closed his eyes and magic stirred in the air.
“What are you doing?” I jerked forward to stop him. By the time I took the three steps to reach him, he’d already removed his hand and stepped back to pull his glove back on.
I shoved his shoulder. “What the phaan?”
He scowled over his shoulder. “I took a sample of the magic. That’s why we’re here isn’t it?”
“I thought you were going to do the same hover thing you did with the arrow. I didn’t think you’d touch her. You can’t disturb the evidence.” I waved my hand at the dead body. “What if you left magical residue?”
Ace lifted both eyebrows. “Last time I checked, I’m not some sort of serial killer leaving the city guards my calling card. Even if they pick up my magical signature—which I very much doubt—they won’t have anything to compare it to.”
“Yet.” I folded my arms over my chest, and mentally formulated a lecture about why tampering with the evidence could be disastrous for an investigation.
“The magic could be important, and I can only do my hover thing over inanimate objects, not people,” he said. “It can’t be coincidental that bonded immortals are dying, and you were struck by an arrow that managed to incapacitate you so drastically.”
“Did you get anything?”
He smirked.
“Oh, come on. The damage is already done, and you made a compelling argument. Can you tell if it’s the same magic that was on the arrow that struck me?”
“Yes, I can tell.”
I wanted to throttle him. “You know, if you have a strangling kink, you could’ve just said so. I’d be happy to oblige. No need to be coy.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Yes, I can tell, and yes, it’s the same.”
My vision wavered, and an icy chill spread over my skin, prickling my scalp. Though I’d expected as much, though all the evidence—as minimal as it was—pointed to a connection, it was jarring to hear. Suspecting and confirming someone tried to murder me and would’ve succeeded if they’d aimed better packed two different punches. I’d never faced mortality before.
I didn’t like it.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath to try to banish the shivers running along my spine. I hadn’t just recuperated from a poisoned arrow shot. I’d avoided death. I had come remarkably close to being a third body on a slab in this room.
“You were lucky,” Ace said. Apparently, he not only followed the same line of thinking as I did, but he also liked to state the obvious.
Or maybe my silence disturbed him, and he was trying to fill the void.
I nodded and swallowed down the fear. Now wasn’t the time to let my emotions rule my thinking or actions. “But why? I’ve been attacked twice now. Why me? Why these galeons?”
Ace turned to me, his brow furrowed, and opened his mouth.
My gaze snagged on an arrow laying on the slab beside Dita’s body. The fletching unmistakenly familiar, the arrowhead splintered and ruined. It might’ve pierced through the breastbone, but a large fragment had broken off.
“Is that…” I swallowed, unable to voice what was so obviously right in front of me.
“The arrow that killed her, yes,” Ace said. He reached forward and hovered his hand over the weapon.
My weapon.
I’d know that fletching in the dark.
Cold washed over my skin as I replayed the few facts about these killings—immortal magic, perfect shots, my arrows…
They hadn’t tried to shoot me with my own arrows. I would’ve noticed that.
I was being framed.
But why would someone or a group of someones go to the effort of framing me to then try to kill me? Or had they tried to kill me first and then when that failed, moved to set me up to take the fall? The sequence of events didn’t quite make sense or fit either scenario.
Before Ace could say anything more, the slap of shoes on hard tile echoed down the hallway outside the room. I held up my hand and listened.
Ace snapped his mouth shut, but I knew the moment he heard the footsteps as well, his whole body stiffened, and his gaze scanned the room. The footsteps grew louder, the person was heading toward us.
It might be Paul.
Or it might be someone else.
We couldn’t risk getting caught with the dead bodies of a murder investigation, especially when my arrow was the murder weapon. I flung the sheet over the body and frantically looked around the room. No windows. No other exits. And I’d rather get caught then slide into a cadaver freezer.
Ace reached forward and grabbed my wrist. He pulled me toward a tall metal cabinet, the kind that was the size of a large wardrobe. He flung the door open to reveal several lab coats on hangers, and work boots lined up underneath.
I didn’t need any further direction. I pushed the lab coats to the side and hopped in. Ace followed, somehow squeezing into the remaining space before shutting the door behind him.
No sooner than the cabinet door closed, the mystery person swung open the door to the room.
“My lovelies.” A woman’s voice crooned.
28
The coroner spoke to herself as she moved around the room to set up for the autopsy. Meanwhile, we remained stuffed in a metal cabinet, pressed into the man I despised.
He smelled like pine and campfires, and he had no business feeling so nice beside me.
Maybe I needed to get out more. Start dating. Phaan, maybe take Orion up on his offer.
“Single arrow shot to the chest. Poor thing. Why didn’t you heal? You’re a bonded galeon and supposedly immortal and indestructible.” The corner kept talking as she studied one of the bodies. Metal clanked and her shoes scuffed the floor as she moved around.
“The arrow struck the breastbone, shattering it. The arrowhead fractured on impact.” Metal clanked in a bowl, and I envisioned the coroner pulling out a fragment of the arrowhead to drop it into the collection dish.
“Only a very skilled archer could make this shot. Immortal magic of some kind is coating the arrow. This may have acted as an inhibitor to healing, or maybe it was the true death blow. Small slivers of bone, wood and metal travelled through the chest cavity and sliced the superior vena cava. Death was quick for you, assuming your immortality didn’t prolong your suffering. The lungs are also filled with blood, so a fragment must’ve punctured that, too. You would’ve collapsed quickly, if not immediately—hard to tell with galeons—but you suffocated. There is no evidence of healing. I’m so sorry, Dita. That’s not the way anyone should have to go.”
The coroner changed utensils again. “But just between you and me, we both know there were a number of people who wished you dead.”
I perked up and leaned forward. So, Dita had enemies. Were they behind this? Did they also dislike me and Shona enough to wish us dead, too? What linked the three of us together aside from being bonded immortals?
I frowned, my mind racing to connect the dots.
The door to the room slammed open, and I jumped back, smacking into Ace. Another set of footsteps announced someone walking into the room.
I tensed. Did the doctor have a lab partner? And would they head straight to the cabinet to get their gear?
I held my breath and waited.
The coroner set a utensil down on the metal surface and let out a long, dramatic sigh.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Carla, I’m shocked,” my brother said. “Do I need an excuse to see you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not what you said the other week.”
Seriously? My brother could charm the pants off anyone.
“A moment of weakness,” Carla said, but her voice held a smile.
Paul scoffed and sauntered farther into the room—at least I assumed he did. He rarely entered a room any other way. “Come on, Carla. I haven’t seen you in a week and you promised we’d go out for drinks if I did that thing with my tongue.”
Gross.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Carla said.
“Yet you’re here.”
“I like working late at night. Less people.” She paused and another item hit the collection dish. “Less people who breathe.”
Silence fell over the room. Normally, Paul would take the hint and leave, but he wasn’t here to get laid, he’d come to extract us so we could escape. He was buying us time.
“If it’s not too late for work, it’s not too late for a drink.”
More fragments hit the collection tray. “You’re very persistent.”
“You’re very enchanting,” he countered. “One drink.”
“Coffee.”
“One coffee. Which is a drink, by the way.”
Carla sighed again and she must’ve pulled off her gloves because something snapped and hit the collection dish.
“Let’s go,” Paul said.
I held my breath, the entire time, waiting for the sounds of their footsteps to fade away completely.
Ace threw open the cabinet doors. “Let’s go, before that woman comes to her senses.”
“Or I have to hear more about what my brother does with his tongue.” I shuddered as I hopped out. I carefully pulled the lab coats back to where they’d hung. Or close enough before bending to organize the work boots. We had moved them around a little in our attempt to fit into the cabinet.
“Good enough.” Ace grabbed my wrist and pulled.
“Should we examine the other body?” I peered over at the other prone shape under a sheet.
Ace shook his head. “We’ve seen enough. I think it’s safe to assume Shona died the same way. Let’s get out of here before the coroner comes to her senses and turns your brother down.”
“Good point.”
Our boots slapped the hard tile floor, echoing our escape as we walked through the empty hallways. My heart raced in my chest, caught between exhilaration and fear. Someone yelled behind us. With a jump, I started to run, and Ace kept pace beside me. The man drew closer, letting out a string of curses as he gave chase. I pumped my arms and dropped my chin. Each step was driven by a desperate need to go faster, to go farther. I refused to get caught in the Death House, especially when I was the only hunter known for carrying a quiver full of magic arrows. The same arrows that would match the murder weapons used on two bonded galeons.
The man behind us yelled again, calling for us to stop, but it didn’t matter. It was too late for him to catch us now.
With Ace close behind me, I burst through the doors and into the cool night air, barely slowing as I half slid, half jumped down the fire exit. With another rush of adrenaline, I rounded the corner and entered the shadows of the city.
Only when we were a few blocks away did we finally stop running. Hidden in a dark alley, I bent over and gasped for air as I tried to slow down my hammering heart.
Ace leaned against the rough brick wall of a nearby building, his eyes closed, and his head dropped back in exhaustion.
“Well, not the smoothest exit,” I said. Did we have to run? Maybe. Maybe not. It wasn’t worth the risk of getting caught and I didn’t care to discover what happened if we overstayed our welcome in the Death House.
“Let’s get a drink,” Ace said.
“What?”
He pushed off the wall and studied me, his lips teasing up at the corner. “We made it out, but probably drew a lot of attention. They’re likely to watch the city gates. It’s what I would do.” He nodded in the direction of the one entrance to the city that remained open at night. “It’s not against any rules for us to be here. We should go for a drink, discuss what the phaan is going on and let the heat from our hasty exit cool down. We can leave in a few hours or even wait until the morning.”
I glanced up at the night sky. “Morning isn’t that far off anyway.”
Nothing he said was incorrect. But while his idea made the most sense for evading capture, it still felt dangerous. And I was sick of being in danger.
No, that wasn’t quite right.
I lived a life of danger and was used to constantly feeling on edge, on guard. But lately things had become chaotic. When I hunted poachers in the Danu, I had control, knowledge, and skill on my side. Now, I felt uneasy because I was in the dark about so much, too much. I had been attacked, ambushed, and now apparently, set up as a murderer.
And it all started when Ace arrived.
“Well?” Ace asked. “Shall we grab a drink?”
Before he could react, I grabbed the leather strap across his chest and pushed him against the cold wall, my dagger pressed to his throat.
“A no would’ve sufficed,” he said. His dark gaze sparkled with amusement, and he reached up to prick the tip of the dagger with his gloved finger. “Oooo. Sharp.”
I glared at him, trying to find a way to voice the turmoil in my mind. Taking in a deep breath, I focused on why I was so angry.
“Maybe try using your words?” Ace suggested.
“All this shit started after you arrived,” I finally said. “It’s one phaan of a coincidence.”
Ace swallowed, his Adam’s apple scraping along the cold edge of the blade, but he continued to smirk as if I couldn’t end his life with a flick of my wrist.
“Not a coincidence at all,” he said. “I think the queen knew something was going on and wanted you protected.”
I pressed the edge into his skin, and blood pebbled around the blade. My leather gloves creaked as I clutched the handle tightly.
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe you’re the reason I’m in danger in the first place. That was my arrow beside Dita’s body. You’ve had access to my weapons the entire time.”
“Only split ones,” he said, his gaze blazing. “Besides, everyone in town has access to your arrows. You have a large trap door big enough to allow Nala and pretty much anyone else into your workshop. Perga isn’t exactly a secure location, either. It’s mostly just an incestuous free-for-all.”
My mouth twisted down. “Gross.”
“Yet accurate.” He leaned forward, pressing his throat into the blade without any apparent concern for his life. “I’d also like to point out you were attacked once before I arrived.”
Phaan.
He was right.
And I was…wrong.
I pushed off the wall, removing my blade from his neck. An angry red line decorated the delicate skin.
He gingerly touched the wound on his neck and examined his gloved fingers. The bleeding had already stopped. The wound was a scratch, but a pang of regret stabbed my stomach.
“I was wrong,” I said, the words turning sour on my tongue. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“And?” Ace’s lips twitched. “Are you sorry?”
I shook my head, realizing he was throwing my own words back at me. Apparently, my apologies were as terrible as my brother’s, too. “Would grovelling on my knees make it better?”
A wide grin split Ace’s face. “I’d definitely like to see you on your knees.”
“Pervert.”
“Are we going to go for that drink now or what?” Ace asked.
“Fine, but you’re buying,” I said.
Ace turned toward the alley’s exit. “Phaan that. This isn’t a date. You can pay for yourself. After that stunt you just pulled, you should be buying me drinks.”
“Phaan that. I didn’t bring any money, and this was your idea,” I snapped back as I followed him, sheathing my dagger. “Besides, if you were more upfront and honest with me, instead of continuing to hide information, I wouldn’t distrust you so much.”
He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder. “Fine. I’ll buy the drinks but don’t get any ideas.”
Like I’d ever.
29
I stood outside the rundown two-story bar with wood siding, half expecting it to topple over and crush me where I stood. “This is your bar of choice?”
Ace leaned in. “I come for the booze and to be left alone. This place is perfect.”
“I’m surprised you know of any places in the city. You never used to venture here, and you’ve been away for a long time.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been here.” He left me to gape at him and pulled open the door. The hinges creaked loudly. “I used to live in the city, too, you know.”
Ace held onto his secrets when we were growing up, but he held more now. I wanted to crack his head open like a walnut and read what was inside.
