Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(42)

John then sent for a sketch artist to question the shade on the appearance of the man who’d given him the drug. The artist took notes without starting his sketch. He’d worked with me before, and he knew that as the shade couldn’t provide feedback about the drawing, his time was better spent asking detailed questions about the dealer’s physical description. I knew he’d review the audio back at the station where he would put pencil to paper.

Finally, the sketch artist nodded, his questions finished. I sighed in relief, a sigh that came out jagged as I trembled. I looked around, asking with my expression if anyone had other questions. Exhaustion clutched at me and the icy chill of the grave sliced at my skin. Being so cold while still in touch with the grave was a bad sign. No one ventured another question, and I sighed with relief.

“Rest now,” I told the shade, releasing Bruce back into his body. Some of my life-affirming heat followed the well-worn path through my psyche back into my body, but it did little to warm me.

“Did you need to question Shannon as well?” I asked, trying to keep my teeth from chattering.

John glanced at his notebook, then at the bodies in my circle, and then finally at me. For one excruciating second I thought he’d say yes, but finally he shook his head. Thank goodness. As tired as I felt, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to put the eroded shade back together. It couldn’t have been much after noon, but I was ready for bed, or at least a long nap. Yeah, that sounded divine.

Wrapping up my ritual, I released my hold on the grave, not the least bit surprised when unbroken darkness covered my eyes. I’d used a lot of magic. I’d be blind for a while. I broke the circle, but then just stood there. Not being able to see while standing in the middle of a crime scene beside a pair of murder victims was not a good thing. With my luck, I’d end up tripping and sprawled on top of the bodies.

I had a moment of indecision as I debated opening my shields so I could at least navigate out of the hotel. Then a hand cupped my elbow.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Falin said, his hand on my arm guiding me gently.

I let him. The AC of the hotel gave way to the midday heat, the sun only slightly warm against my chilled skin.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a car door opening. As I was pretty sure I’d locked my car and he hadn’t pickpocketed the keys, I assumed it was his car.

“Yeah, otherwise I have to hang around here for a while.”

“Unavoidable either way, I’m afraid. That is, unless you want me to arrange for someone else to drive you home.”

Not really. A yawn caught me by surprise and my jaw cracked with the movement. I covered it the best I could with the back of my hand before shrugging to Falin.

“If you don’t mind me catching a nap in the passenger seat, I’ll be fine here for a while.”

I couldn’t see it, but I swear I could feel his frown. I was weak and I’d just used a lot of energy while I didn’t have a lot to spare. At least we’d learned something useful.

“About the vials of Glitter . . .” I told him what Icelynne had told Roy about the alchemist and the direction of my current thoughts on the case. He made a couple of noncommittal noises as I spoke, but didn’t interrupt or add his own opinions. He was silent for a long time after I finished.

“You should get some rest,” he finally said, and while it was true enough, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed that he’d brushed me off without word one on the case. He knew finding the alchemist and associates was the only way I was going to get my independent status. Of course, he was the queen’s man, and she’d rather add me to her court than let me have relatively free rein.

I yawned again, the movement turning into a full-on sway. I needed to sit down. Without another word, I climbed into the car and reclined the seat. I barely even heard the door shut as I closed my eyes and drifted off.





Chapter 13





Later that afternoon I sat in the middle of my bed, PC sprawled across my lap, and my laptop propped on one knee. Falin had dropped me off hours ago, saying he had to go to court and he’d be back tonight. He’d promised we’d discuss the case when he got back, but he’d given me no new information on the car ride home.

Icelynne flitted about my room. I’d spent the last hour grilling her on absolutely everything she could remember about her confinement. When she’d called me a bully Sleagh Maith and broke out in tears, I let it go—she hadn’t been able to tell me anything she hadn’t already said when the queen and Falin had questioned her. Now I was writing up all the details she had given me in a document, along with everything I could remember from questioning Jeremy’s and Bruce’s shades. I was hoping organizing what I knew about the case would shine a new light on it, but I was running in circles.

I knew fae were being kidnapped, held, and drained in the winter court by an unknown fae who was making a drug from their blood. That drug was being distributed to mortals, but I wasn’t sure how. Jeremy had said he picked it up at a club. Bruce had gotten it in the parking lot outside his high school dance. And why was the drug being distributed? Money would be the normal guess, but most fae didn’t care much about mortal money. And if it was just about money, why go with an exotic drug that used fae glamour? Why not something more mundane?