Page 102 of Arcane Entanglement
It did little to warm his body.
He couldn’t stop reliving the harrowing tale Viggo had just told them. The rumours he’d heard about the Brute’s childhood paled in comparison to the reality of the horrors he’d just painted with the bold strokes of his recollection from the eyes of the child he had been at the time his life changed forever.
Evander found himself unable to look at Viggo, too ashamed of the magic that ran through his veins and defined him as a mage.
Rufus cast a worried glance his way before addressing Martha Millbrook.
“Can you tell us what Alastair was working on before his murder?”
She exchanged a glance with her son.
“He rarely talked about the commissions he accepted,” she told them guardedly. “Many of the projects he undertook were under strict confidence. It isn’t as if he could tell us about them even if he wanted to.”
“But we knew something was wrong.” William frowned. “We could see it in his face when he came home.” Frustration underscored his voice. “Not that he visited Finsbury much in the two months before his murder. Father spent most of his time in Covent Garden. He slept in the lodgings above his workshop.”
Evander took a shallow breath. He couldn’t just sit there wallowing in his emotions. Not when there was work to be done.
“What prompted you to leave Finsbury?” he asked Martha.
The widow twisted her hands in her dress. Her reply confirmed what Evander had suspected.
“Alastair came home just under a fortnight ago.” Martha’s expression grew haggard. “I have never seen my husband so afraid. He told us we had to leave London, for our own safety.” A shudder shook her as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I wish I had asked him to come with us. Not a day passes that I do not regret my decision to stay silent on the matter.”
Her voice broke. She pressed a hand to her mouth.
William’s chin trembled as he clasped his mother’s shoulder. Martha touched his hand, her throat working convulsively.
“We found out about my father’s death in the papers.” William’s gaze burned with barely contained anger despite his tears. “Do you know who killed him?!”
“It was a dark mage.”
William recoiled at Evander’s quiet words.
Martha’s eyes widened.
“A dark mage?” she mumbled. “But—Alastair would never have anything to do with?—!”
“I doubt he knew,” Viggo cut in. His stiff gaze flitted briefly to Evander before focusing on the Millbrooks. “The reason he became scared was likely because he’d realised what he’d gotten himself involved in.”
“Mr. Stonewall is correct,” Evander said levelly. “We suspect your husband didn’t know what he’d signed himself up for when he took on the commission that led to his murder.”
William’s expression darkened.
“Are you saying the people who hired him intended to kill him?”
The fire crackled noisily in the tense lull that ensued.
“That I cannot tell you for certain.” Evander met the younger man’s glare unflinchingly. “But, yes. There’s a high probability that they planned to get rid of him after he completed the project they’d assigned him.”
Martha paled. William cursed.
“Alastair knew this,” Evander said. “That’s why he took measures to foil their plans and left clues that could lead to his killer.”
Confusion clouded Martha and William’s faces when he removed a small pouch from inside his coat and placed it on the table. Evander pushed it towards them.
“We found this hidden in his workshop.”
Martha’s hands shook as she opened the bag and removed the key they’d discovered. Her breath caught at the name his fire magic had scorched upon the scrap of paper that came with it.
