Larsen’s office was everything his Eledan apartment was not. Glass and steel shone, their surfaces polished and angles sharp. Now that I had seen both sides of the fae, the contrast was shocking.
“Someone reported my behavior at the Arcon anniversary party to the marshal’s office,” Eledan said, seating himself behind a curved glass desk. “They’re sending a marshal over to question us.” Numerous screens descended above the desk, creating a curtain of monitors. His hands swept across the keys overlaid on the glass-top desk. “You will answer his questions,” he said without looking up from his work, “and make sure to satisfy the marshal without raising suspicion.”
There was a threat under those words, though he kept all signs of it off his charming Istvan Larsen face.
His biotek-masked eyes flicked to me. “Do I need to warn you about what you can and cannot say?” he asked.
“No.”
“Close your coat collar.”
I flicked up the coat’s collar and sealed it closed, hiding the iron one.
“Have you thought about my offer?”
“You mean whether to save one fae or potentially kill all the humans in Halow? That offer?”
“Or, in exchange for helping me, we have the fae return and tell them it was you who allowed them to enter Halow once more.” He arched an eyebrow. “They will love you all over again.”
The love of one race at the cost of the lives of another? “I won’t condemn an entire system just to appease my guilt. Besides,” I breathed in, “the Court will never forgive me.”
“You would be surprised. Not everyone appreciated Mab’s peacemaking techniques. Some are likely relieved you removed the queen and her treaty with her.”
“Some like Oberon?” I watched him for any reaction to his brother’s name, but his human expressions were too well schooled.
He leaned back in the chair and peered through his screens at me. “You have to admit, you killing Mab saved Oberon the trouble.” Eledan’s mask briefly slipped, and the full weight of his fae-glare rested on me—searching for what? “Frustrating, don’t you think,” he added, “for the first-born son, the next in line to the throne, to be in waiting forever?”
I returned his stare with a level one of my own. “Oberon has waited a few thousand years. What is another few hundred to a fae like him?”
He took the words, considered them and returned to his work. “A great many.”
Eledan would know a great deal about waiting. A thousand years among his enemy. Did he even remember who he really was? What did that kind of stress do to a fae mind? “How many human lifetimes have you pretended to live?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet, easing it around his illusionary armor.
His hands stilled. He looked at me side-on.
“Larsen is just the latest. You’ve been here a long time…” I wasn’t supposed to know how long.
His face softened as his thoughts wandered to the past.
“Did you come to know families?” I asked, sensing a weakness. “Were you ever invited to become part of one?”
Something new flared in his eyes. I wasn’t sure what, especially with the biotek lenses dulling his faeness. But a thousand years? How many human lives had he touched?
“There were… times,” he admitted.
Had he come to love them like he used to make them love him? Had he ever fallen into his own trap? A thousand years was a long time to be alone.
What if I was looking at this all wrong? What if he hadn’t let the fae into Halow because he knew his kind would ravage what they found? What if he was protecting Halow? He had said he should have opened the door, but he hadn’t. He’d held back, living his Larsen life among tek. A thousand years among the enemy would test even the most devout hater.
An alert chimed on one of the screens, drawing his attention away from me. “The marshal will be here in a few minutes,” he said. “Make sure he leaves appeased or his subsequent death will stain your hands with more blood, Wraithmaker.”
I curled my fingers into my palms, digging my nails in.
An empty threat? Eledan had killed Crater, but I didn’t yet know why. Dammit. Kellee had better be good at pretending, because he was about to stand toe to toe with a professional illusionist.
Chapter 19
Marshal Kellee held out his hand. “Mister Larsen.” He smiled the neutral lawman smile that said, I’m your friend until I’m not.
Eledan smiled back, his smile equally false. “Marshal Kellee.” They shook, both of them lying with their body language, if not their words.
Kellee turned to me. “And you are…?”
“Kesh Lasota.” I forgot to offer my hand, distracted by Eledan’s simmering presence. The fae settled against his desk, gripping the edges on either side of him, knuckles briefly paling. A line of tension ran down his back, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. His strain was obvious, but the marshal didn’t notice because the idiot was looking at me.
Something was wrong. Larsen should have been relaxed. He had been relaxed before Kellee arrived. He was in his territory, wrapped up in his comforting lies. This was supposed to be easy—answer the marshal’s questions and send him on his way—but Larsen was looking at him without blinking, in the way all fae did when they were about to attack.
Kellee continued to stare at me.
“What?” I snapped.
The marshal’s pretty face darkened. “I asked if you were well, Miss?”
“Me? Yes. I’m fine.” I laughed like a lunatic. “We’re all fine, Marshal.”
“I feel like… we’ve met,” Kellee mused, backing up to get a better look at me. “You seem familiar,” he added, grabbing a chair. “Do you mind?” he asked Larsen. Before the fae had a chance to reply, Kellee sat down and leaned back, utterly at ease.
What was he doing? We weren’t supposed to give Larsen any reason to suspect us, and the second thing he said was that he thought we’d met before? Had he lost his mind?
“No,” I denied. “I don’t think we’ve met.” The heat of Larsen’s gaze fell on me. I fought not to meet his glare. “I’d remember a marshal.”
Kellee’s shiny metal star winked.
This was insane. Larsen was not happy, and Kellee either wasn’t picking up on the crackling tension or he didn’t care. He had told me to trust him. He had said everything would be okay. This was not okay.
“So,” Kellee began, “you know why I’m here, Mister Larsen.”
“I do. The unfortunate report of an assault at the anniversary gathering. Who reported it?”
Don’t tell him. Whoever it was might not wake up again.
Kellee opened his hands. “I’m not at liberty to say. But you understand I have to follow up on reports, even regarding esteemed individuals like yourself.” Kellee looked around him, likely reading all the modern elements of Larsen’s surroundings. “Nice office. Not like mine. The department gives us cubicles. I much prefer being in the field.”
“Of course, a man like you would naturally prefer not to be cornered.” Larsen’s smile was sharp enough to cut glass.
At least the marshal didn’t have his sharp teeth on show. Yet.
“Did you have questions?” I asked before Kellee dug himself into a deeper hole.
“Yes.” Kellee regarded me, his expression softening. “You were the victim of this assault?”
“No.”
“No? The report said—”
“I’m not a victim of anything. What happened was a misunderstanding. We er… Mister Larsen and I were just… We had too much cyn. You know how it is.”
“Not really. Please explain what happened, in your own words.”
I glared at Kellee, wishing he could read my mind so he’d get out of Larsen’s office now. “We argued, sure. But we made up.”
Kellee’s dark eyebrow arched and his green eyes sharpened. “What’s your relationship to Mister Larsen?”
“Sister,” Eledan answered for me.
“Sister?” Kellee’s tone might as well have said, karushit. “Huh.” He breathed in and leaned back. “Mister Larsen, I assume you won’t mind if Miss Lasota and I talk alone?”
“Why would you need to talk alone?” Eledan asked.
“Because I’m a marshal, you’re accused of assault, and Miss Lasota is the victim.”