Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)

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.

Ryese shrugged, taking my silence for refusal. “If you change your mind . . .”

My phone rang, cutting him off as Annabella Lwin proclaimed her want for candy. Holly’s ringtone.

I shooed Ryese toward the door as I dug the phone out of my purse and answered. From the background roar of wind it was obvious wherever Holly was calling from, she was driving.

“You going to be ready in about an hour?”

Ready? I glanced at the clock. More time had passed than I thought. I had to get ready for the wedding. Hair and makeup we’d all work on together, but— “Shoes. I don’t have shoes for the wedding yet.”

“Seriously? Alex, okay, I’m turning around. I’ll be there in twenty.”

I hastily agreed before hanging up. I started toward the closet before realizing Ryese still hovered by my front door.

“Out,” I said, pointing at the door.

He lifted his hands as if surrendering, but made no move to leave. “Big day?”

I considered saying yes and leaving it at that, but if he’d read Dugan’s card he would already be reporting back that I was theoretically betrothed. He likely guessed it was to someone in another court. If the queen thought my marriage into a rival court was imminent . . . who knew what she might do.

“I’m a bridesmaid. Now leave so I can get ready.”

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