Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(47)

I stepped forward and grabbed the paper-wrapped roses. Something about the whole situation was off. Not like a trap, though if that thought had entered my mind a moment earlier I probably would have hesitated long enough for him to toss the bundle, but the resounding thought in my head was that black really wasn’t Ryese’s color. He tended to deck himself out in so much white it was blinding. And the queen favored things dusted in ice or snow.

Ryese scowled as I rescued the roses, but quickly covered the expression with a blatantly insincere smile. “Shall we linger in doorways like a couple of peasants?” he asked, gesturing toward my door.

I ignored him and fished the card from among the roses.

FOR MY LOVELY BETROTHED.

There was no signature, but with that message, it didn’t really need one. Dugan had been here.

I tucked the card back into the bouquet, careful to keep my expression schooled to neutral. Now that I knew for certain where it had come from, I couldn’t care less if the roses ended up tossed in the trash—or over the rail—but Ryese was watching, his expression dark, and I didn’t want to show my hand. I had no doubt he’d report back to the Winter Queen on whatever I did. He may or may not know who had sent the roses, but I doubted he’d missed the word “betrothed” on the card.

So, I kept my features neutral as I unlocked the door and stepped inside. Then I had a moment of uncertainty. Theoretically I should put the roses in a vase of water or something. But I didn’t own a vase. I wasn’t really a flowers kind of girl. I settled for placing the still-wrapped bouquet on the counter before turning back to Ryese, who, no real surprise, had followed me in.

“What do you want?”

“Lexi, Lexi, Lexi, is that any way to treat your beloved?”

I cocked an eyebrow—I’d been practicing and I was damn good at it now. He was most certainly not my beloved. Hell, he wasn’t even my “beliked.”

When I just crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him, he coughed quietly and turned away. His attention settled on PC, who normally greeted my guests, but was standing a careful distance away from Ryese, sniffing. Smart dog.

“That is one ugly mutt,” Ryese said, shaking his head.

My fists clenched, heat lifting to my face. “You’re not endearing yourself here.”

He glanced up and shot me a quick smile. I never realized a smile could look quite so hateful.

“Dearest Lexi, I am simply here to see how you are doing on your little case. I thought you might need some help, especially since the knight is otherwise engaged.”

I opened my mouth to turn him away and then closed it. I did need help. But could I trust anything that came from him? Well, I guess he wasn’t really any less trustworthy than Falin: both would be reporting back to the queen. But it was certainly a less appealing offer.

And speaking of Falin . . . “What do you mean ‘otherwise engaged’?”

His smile spread, lips parting in a gleefully malicious grin. “Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t know. He’s been dueling.”

He said it casually, turning as he spoke and wandering around my small space.

“Dueling?”

He stopped in front of my dresser, leaning in to examine the pictures surrounding the edges of my mirror.

“Oh yes. Between the recent, high-profile fae-related crimes in winter court territory and the . . . rumors. Well, let’s just say some aren’t terribly confident in my aunt currently. Which means she’s received several challenges for her throne. Of course, all challengers have to duel her knight first, so he’s rather busy.”

The blood drained from my face. While I wasn’t a fan of the queen and didn’t care if she lost her throne, Falin fighting everyone lining up to challenge her didn’t sound good. He was a spectacular fighter, but he wasn’t invincible and each challenger would be coming to him fresh while he’d still be recovering from the previous.

Ryese turned, his eyes twinkling as he took in my expression. “So, you see, there is a lot of interest in your progress. What have you learned?”

If I’d had something—anything—I’d have told him then. But I didn’t know anything. I was floundering.

I moved like a sleepwalker across my room and sank onto the edge of my bed. Damn this alchemist. How the hell was I going to find him? And now Falin was in the winter court fighting the queen’s duels.

“Going that well?” Ryese asked as he leaned against the dresser. Why the hell did he always smile so much? He didn’t mean the smiles. Wasn’t that a kind of lie?

I didn’t stand, but I forced myself straighter, trying not to look like I was shrinking in on myself, even though that was how I felt. “The alchemist is making a drug. I don’t know why. It’s killing mortals with nightmares or hallucinations. I’m working on a lead tracking down a hobgoblin who might be involved.”

Ryese tapped his chin with one long finger. “A hobgoblin you say? Anything else?”

I cast around for any other strands I had to follow, but it was too early in the investigation. I just didn’t have anything.

After my silence stretched, Ryese nodded. “Well, then, I think I will return to court to pass on this rather distressing news. You are, of course, welcome to join me.”

I shook my head. I had even less idea of how to go about tracking down the alchemist in Faerie than I did here in a realm where I at least understood the rules. I’d likely have to take my investigation there eventually, but right now I’d likely just end up dead or trapped if I started blindly poking about Faerie. For now I’d keep looking for the Glitter connection here.