Dragon Magic, page 10
part #4 of Ever Witch Series
The sky was overcast, and it did little to help our current moods. We didn’t talk much, but my hand stayed firmly in his. His eyes constantly roamed over our surroundings as if he expected the murderer to appear out of thin air. With the poltergeists cleansed, it I wondered how the murderer would kill his next victim. I shivered, and Tank automatically draped his arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“You hear that?” He stilled, tilting his head.
“Hear what?”
We were alone on the grounds and were nearing the greenhouses. He took a step then another, eyes narrowing. “Voices arguing.”
“Where?”
“Inside.”
We walked toward the greenhouses. Two men shouting at each other. We peered inside an open doorway. Troy and Peter were barely an inch away from each other, faces red and eyes bulging in anger.
“All your fault.” Troy shoved Peter.
Peter held his ground. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had nothing to do with it. Nothing.”
“Liar. I know you hated her. We all know. You were jealous.” Troy shoved him again, and it escalated into a fight.
Tank sprinted inside to get between them, grabbing Troy’s arms to hold him back. I put myself in front of Peter, holding a hand to his bloody mouth.
“Let me go. I’m not finished with him.” Troy shouted and cursed as he tried to break free of Tank’s hold.
“You alright?” I checked Peter’s face, but aside from a bruise and split lip, he appeared fine.
“Yeah, great.”
“What’s going on with you two?” I demanded as I whirled around on Troy. “Well?”
“He asked me out here to talk,” Peter explained. “I thought it was as friends. Apparently not.”
Troy shouted incoherently again, and Tank dragged him further into the greenhouse.
“He just needs time, we all do,” I told Peter.
He headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from him.” He marched outside and was gone.
Tank let go of Troy after he made him promise he wasn’t going to run out after Peter. He hunched over a nearby table, sniffing hard and wiping at the abrasions on his knuckles.
“He’s involved,” Troy whispered. “I know he is.”
“There’s no evidence of that. He’s one of us. Why would he hurt Melody or Grant?” When he said nothing, I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re looking for someone to blame. Anyone. I get it, but it’s not helping anyone.”
“I know I just don’t understand why this is happening.”
“None of us do. Now’s the time for us to stand together, not tear each other apart.” I hugged him, wishing I could do something to alleviate his pain. I remembered seeing Lucius coming out of Melody’s room the other day. “Did you get whatever Lucius found?”
Troy roughly wiped at his eyes, shaking his head. “Found?”
“I saw him leave Melody’s room. Looked like he had something in his hands. Thought he was going to give it to you.”
“When was this?” Tank asked.
“A few days ago. You don’t think he’s hiding something, do you?”
Tank tugged on his beard in thought. “Not sure. Troy, you never saw him? Talked to him?”
“No, but if he found something of Melody’s, I would like it.”
“If I see him, I’ll ask him about it,” I assured him. “Why don’t you go inside and rest? Maybe find Peter and make up.”
Troy scowled at me. “Not happening.”
When he was gone, I let out an aggravated shout then grabbed the nearest pot and dug around in it.
“What are you doing?” Tank rested his hip against the table next to me.
“I don’t know.”
“He just needs time.”
“He’s being difficult, blinded by his loss.”
“Happens to a lot of people, trust me.” He grabbed a second pot and asked me what we were doing with the dirt. “Don’t tell me I’m getting my hands dirty for nothing.”
We spent the next couple of hours replanting herbs that needed bigger pots. When those were finished, we moved onto trimming the larger shrubs and harvesting blooms from the magical array of plants in the greenhouse.
Tank asked about them, and I gave him a brief lesson on what we used each one for. Acting like this was a normal day helped, and soon I was smiling and laughing with him as we worked, keeping ourselves busy. With a satisfied nod, I brushed my dirty hands on my jeans.
“That should do it for this one. I’m starving. You want to see if they have dinner ready yet?”
“Food sounds great. Might want to shower first.” He wiped at the dirt smudges on my face.
We walked into the castle to find it buzzing with activity. The lockdown had officially been initiated. No witch or warlock could leave the grounds. Someone mentioned the Hunters were on the way for extra security.
I wondered if this meant that Jared would show up. I hoped not. As much as I was enjoying my time with Tank, having my ex-boyfriend around might make everything awkward.
Tank left me at my room, and I showered quickly then threw on fresh clothes. I finished getting ready before he did, so I waited out in the corridor.
A quiet thud drew my attention.
Troy’s door was open, and light spilled out. Shadows moved just inside the doorway.
I was worried he and Peter were at it again, so I knocked on Tank’s door to get him to go with me.
He didn’t respond—must’ve been in the shower still—so I went without him.
“Troy?” I stepped toward the open doorway.
I froze.
“What did you do?” I whispered it the first time, but then as the face of a man I trusted turned to face me, I screamed it.
Doors slammed open behind me.
Tank and Victor appeared and pushed past me and into the room.
“Why? You… I don’t understand,” I mumbled.
Lucius straightened, a bloody knife in his right hand. The same knife he’d just used to kill Troy.
Blood covered Troy’s chest. His eyes were wide open in shock.
Lucius said nothing as Tank and Victor moved in on him and took the knife away.
Lucius was the murderer. Caught red-handed.
But even as I saw the clear-cut evidence that he was the killer, my gut told me this was wrong.
All of it was wrong.
Nine
Tank
Lucius, whom I believed I could trust. Lucius, who had helped me track down the killer. That very same Lucius sat across from me.
We were alone in Selma’s office. The High Council waited just outside the doors. They were listening in. They told me they would when I asked if I could be the one to question him.
Amelie hadn’t said a word since she walked in on the scene. The disbelief was evident enough on her face, as it was on everyone’s.
This man had been around for decades. His family had been around for centuries. Never once had he or them been ill-treated by the witches. Why would he turn on them now? What was the point?
He sat with his hands on the desk, folded, head hanging, eyes vacant. Since we brought him here, he’d only said one word. Done. Nothing else. No explanation. Just done. Whether he meant he was done with his killing spree, or just done killing Troy, I hadn’t the faintest idea. I shifted in the uncomfortable straight-backed chair, wondering how Selma got any work done in it, and squared my shoulders.
“Lucius, you were found with the murder weapon in hand, crouching over Troy’s dead body.”
Nothing. Not even a twitch of his eyes.
“Did you kill Troy?”
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath, wondering where the warm-hearted, friendly man had gone. “Why?”
Nothing.
“Fine. Did you kill Grant and Melody?”
He flattened his hands on the desk but said nothing.
“Did you set a poltergeist on Grant and Melody? Make it strangle Grant and throw Melody over the balcony?” I demanded. “Lucius, you need to answer me. Did you kill them?”
“Yes. Just as you said.” His voice was flat, not even cold or filled with anger. Just flat. Like he was void of emotion. Had he put on an act all the other times I’d spoken with him? Was this the real Lucius?
I heard his admissions, but instinct told me he wasn’t guilty. He couldn’t be. Where was the motive?
“I killed Melody and Grant using the poltergeist and Troy the knife. I killed all three of them.”
I’d been around plenty of killers in my lifetime. They were glad to tell me about what they did to the Shadowguard dragons they’d slaughtered. They relished in my pain. Lucius was not like them. He was just here. I searched his eyes, looking for any hint he that he’d enjoyed killing the three descendants. He easily held my gaze, but I saw nothing. It was like I looked into a bottomless pit.
“Lucius, you realize if you don’t tell me the truth, you’re going to be executed for these murders,” I informed him quietly. “Is that what you want?”
His shoulders rose and fell with each breath, but that was it.
“Are you protecting someone? If you are, tell me. I can help you.”
“I killed them,” he repeated. “I did it. No one else was involved.”
“You have no magic. How did you get the poltergeist to work for you? How did you manage to knock me out in the dungeons?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he craned his head as if listening to someone. “Charms.”
“What do you mean, charms?”
“In my room, you’ll find them tucked under my mattress. The charm I used to summon the poltergeist and the one I used to attack you are there.”
He said nothing about the blood at the scene of Melody’s death. The black ooze bothered me still, but if he’d been using poltergeists, I assumed it came from them. “You didn’t make the charms so who gave them to you?” He had to be working with someone. Lucius was no warlock. “Lucius, tell me who helped you with the charms? Who wanted you to kill them?”
“The charms I stole.”
I growled, frustrated. “Lucius, tell me the truth.”
“I am, and I have nothing more to say.”
I asked him a couple more questions, but he was true to his word, he had nothing more to say. “Fine. If that’s how you want this to go, then fine.” I left the office. Everything I heard not sitting well with me at all.
“We have our killer,” Selma said solemnly. “We will hand him over to the Hunters, and he will pay for his crimes. Thank you, Tank. I’ve already sent two warlocks to Lucius’ chambers to find the charms.”
“He didn’t do it.”
Every face of the High Council and the remaining descendants turned to look at me like I’d lost my mind.
Except Amelie.
“He confessed,” Victor pointed out.
“He did. But you heard him, didn’t you? His voice is so empty.”
“He’s a killer.” Peter crossed his arms and glared at me. “Why are you defending him?”
“I’m not. I’m telling you I’ve been face to face with real evil before. With true killers. Lucius isn’t one. He’s hiding something, protecting someone.”
“He believes what he says. We tested every word coming out of his mouth,” Selma told me. “He’s speaking the truth.”
“Or his version of the truth.”
“Tank, maybe they’re right,” Amelie said, sounding uncertain as she took my hand.
“You think he did it? You think he killed three of your closest friends? People he’s watched out for since they were kids? Why would he do it? He has no motive.”
She seemed at a loss and shrugged. “I don’t know, but what else are we supposed to believe?”
“That there’s someone else doing this and setting Lucius up as the fall guy.”
“You have no evidence,” Peter cut in. “If those charms are found in his room, then he’s guilty. Holding the bloody knife should be enough.”
“You might be willing to send an innocent man off to his death, but I’m not.”
Peter’s lip twitched. “He’s not innocent, said so himself.”
“Enough, both of you,” Selma ordered. “If the charms are found, then I’m sorry, Tank, but we must follow the evidence. As much as it pains me to say so, Lucius will be found guilty of these heinous acts of murder.”
It wasn’t right.
Amelie tried to talk to me, but I pulled away from her. I knew she didn’t believe it. She couldn’t. She was scared, and I understood that. Fear was a terrible manipulator. If any of them had been in the room and listening with their own ears, instead of relying on their magic, they’d feel the same way I did.
The two warlocks who went to Lucius’ chamber returned what felt like an eternity later. One of them carried a leather pouch. He handed it to Selma. As soon as she opened it, a puff of blue smoke rose, followed by a strange cackling. One by one, she pulled out wrapped bundles of hair, bones, and herbs.
Amelie cursed.
Victor shook his head as he glared at Selma’s office.
The others gasped or whispered in shock.
All of them except Peter. He stood resolute, as if this was the outcome he expected and was not surprised at all.
His eyes met mine, and I was sure that was a hint of a smile playing on his lips. It only lasted a second, but it was there all the same.
“End the lockdown,” Selma instructed the High Council. “Take Lucius and place him in a room. Hold him under guard until the Hunters arrive.”
“Selma—” I said.
She held up her hand. “I can’t ignore the evidence. I’m sorry, Tank. Believe me, it hurts to lock up someone I’ve always trusted. Someone I assumed was a friend. I guess things aren’t always what they seem.” She curled her hand around the charms, and that was the end of it.
“She’s right,” Amelie said as the warlocks went into Selma’s office to drag Lucius away.
He passed us with his hands bound in chains, head hanging.
I caught his eyes, and they held the same vacant stare.
“Tank?” Amelie said.
“It’s not right.”
“You talked to him yourself. You heard the confession,” Victor argued.
“I did which is why it bothers me so much. He never showed any sign of hatred or anger. There was nothing.”
Victor scoffed and paced away.
I wasn’t done though. “What reason did he have to kill them? Give me one good reason, and I’ll let it go.”
Victor looked to Peter then to Amelie. None of them said anything.
I nodded. “My point exactly.”
“You’re impossible,” Peter said, marching toward me. “You want there to be something wrong.”
“Why would I want that?”
“So you can keep playing detective and protector of Amelie. You really think she needs you looking out for her? Do you?”
“Peter, stop,” Amelie said, trying to get between us.
I put out my arm to stop her. “No, if he wants to complain about me let him.”
“Amelie,” one of the warlocks called out. “Selma wishes to speak with you.”
I waved her on. Whatever Peter wanted to throw at me, I could handle it.
He waited until she was gone before he spoke. “I have something to say alright. You come here acting like you’re this big tough war hero. All you are is a dragon. A Shadowguard, at that. You are nothing compared to the great ones who came before you.” He stepped closer, so his face was right in mine. Or would’ve been if he’d been taller. “You are nothing compared to the greatness of this coven.”
“Never said I was. You best be careful, talking about things you know nothing about.”
“I know plenty.”
I smiled, nodding. “Tell me, Peter, when was the last time you fought in a battle? When was the last time you thought you were going to die but realized there was no giving up? Because if you gave up, people died? Tell me the last time you were injured so badly you simply wished for death to come and end your life? That you couldn’t take the pain anymore?” I glared at him. “That’s right. You haven’t. You know who has? Not just me. Amelie. I know exactly what she can do. I know exactly how powerful she is. But dragons take care of their own, and whether you like it or not, she is not yours.”
Peter raised his hand as if to curse me or cast a spell and I snarled, letting a bit of fire light my eyes.
“Careful, dragon,” he whispered harshly. “You don’t want to go getting yourself hurt.”
“I’m not scared of you. Not by a longshot. You are nothing compared to the kinds I’ve fought.”
“If that’s what you want to think, then so be it.” He backed up, clasped his hands behind him, and walked away, whistling.
“For what it’s worth,” Victor said, standing beside me, “I don’t want to believe it’s Lucius either.”
“But you’re willing to go along with this outcome?”
“We have no proof to say otherwise.”
“And Peter? What are your thoughts about him?”
I wasn’t really expecting him to answer seeing as they were close friends, but Victor rubbed his forehead as if at war with his own thoughts.
“That bad, huh?”
Victor tilted his head back and forth. “Peter is from one of the oldest families around. He believes he deserves more than others. Usually gets what he wants. And if he doesn’t, well let’s just say one way or another he does.”
“And he wants Amelie.”
“He’s never said it out loud, but you see how he is around her. How jealous he is with you here.”
“You don’t think he’d take his anger out on her, do you?”
“That I can’t say. He hasn’t said much to me, but he’s mentioned she’s a traitor for turning to dragons instead of her own.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I’m going to find a drink. Want to join?”
“Maybe later. I want to check out a few more things.”
I walked away, leaving Victor to find a drink on his own. There was no sign of Amelie or the rest of the High Council as I headed to the lower levels of the castle, then lower still.
