Someday, she would realize.
Alaric would stay dead, and Lunette would stay mine.
Nothing else mattered.
I was on edge when night came, and we traversed the graveyard on high alert, sensing every snap of a branch or rustle of the wind. I didn’t do my rounds or tend to any plots. No spirit could hold my attention. No, my eyes were fixed on my girl, ensuring her safety while she begged the fates to bring back a dead man who gave a locket to another woman.
A locket I somehow had in my possession.
A locket whom’s maker was murdered.
Her new veil clouded around her as she went through her spell, the moonlight illuminating her pale skin, white hair, and wedding dress. At least she was safe. But her proximity to murder was beginning to unsettle me. My pieces to the puzzle were limited and few. Alaric was murdered by a gunshot wound. Before he died, he’d been having an affair with a C.M.D. and had an intricate and ornate silver and sapphire locket made by Jilly the jeweler. Jilly, the jeweler, who was brutally killed and leftin a pile of blood and sapphires. Sapphires. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?
Alaric had a locket made for a mistress… Who was this woman? C.M.D. Whoever she was, she’d gotten a gorgeous, crafted piece of expensive finery, and Lunette had gotten a silver band so small and plain it could have been a mere strand of hair from Jilly the Dead Jeweler’s head.
The locket felt heavy in my pocket. Why did I have it? Why couldn’t I remember?
All I could think was that perhaps a visit back to Alaric’s apartment would yield more clues. The staff clearly didn’t mind having visitors snooping around. That was the only plan I could think of to gather more evidence. Whoever the murderer is seems connected to Alaric and this mistress… which sank a stone of worry in my gut that Lunette could be the next target.
No, I wouldn’t let that happen. I would keep her safe at all costs.
“Hey,” I said, putting my hand over hers when she returned to my arm. Her face was downcast and defeated. The white witch truly believed that completing her wedding dress ensemble would aid in bringing Alaric back from the dead. That he would pop up from the dirt and walk down some cemetery aisle and marry her there and then. Oh, Miss Selene.
“Yes?”
“I’m sleeping with you tonight. Or you’re sleeping with me. You pick.” It wasn’t a request. If she’d said no, I would have slept at the foot of her bed like a dog, listening for any non-cat-like sound all night, ready to jump up and defend her.
But to my surprise, she smiled weakly and agreed. Was she afraid, lonely, or did she only want me nearby? Part of me wanted to ask, and the other part didn’t want to know the answer.
Back at the house, I was given access to the white witch’s bed chambers. What a treat. I only wish I’d been invited under sexier circumstances. Lunette’s room was filled with cats and oddities. Just what I’d expected, though the wall of skulls threw me for a loop. “Animal bones?” I asked, picking up a small head.
“Cat skulls,” she answered, turning her back to me and motioning for me to unzip her dress. Another casual act of intimacy we’d acquired over our relatively short period of time together. Did she even realize it was intimate? I watched as she hung her dress and veil carefully in her wardrobe before moving to a small silver vanity and assessing her face in the mirror. “Every evening I recognize myself less and less.” Her fingers scooped a small portion of lotion and rubbed it on her face, her silk dressing gown sheer and thin, showcasing every curve of her figure.
Kicking off my boots, I sat on the corner of her bed in eyesight of her vanity mirror. “Well, maybe you just need to find yourself again.”
“Kind of like you? You and your memories.” With a flick of her wrist, candles illuminated all over the room, and a fire crackled to life in the hearth. For such a marble-cold home, her room was warm and inviting. You know, aside from the animal skulls and bones. “Thank you for staying with me. I feel a bit more secure with you around. In general and with a killer afoot. Though I highly doubt anyone in Hollows Grove would be dumb enough to trifle with a witch.”
“With your witchy prowess and these guns, we’re unstoppable, baby.” I flexed and kissed my biceps. Lunette’s face lightened, and she let out a small chuckle.
Once all of her lotions and potions and whatever else was applied to her already perfect face, we dressed for bed and climbed under her thick quilt. As if it were something we’d done a hundred times before, Lunette nuzzled into my chest as I wrapped an arm around her. I was in her room, in her bed, and she wore a sheer nighty. I wondered if she was wearing panties. Now that’s something I wanted to find out. Though with every slow, weary blink, I saw pooling blood on the pavement and eyes covered with large gemstones.
Such a gruesome death, yet artistic in its brutal wake. Who would do such a thing? No, a better question was, what were they trying to say by this act of violence? I’d decided to close my eyes and roll it over in my mind. Lunette’s breathing slowed as she rested warm and heavy on my chest. Safe, she was safe… and I could always nap and then wake up in the middle of the night and see if she wanted to fuck. Yeah, a nap sounded good.
Something startled me awake. My shoulders were shaking—no, someone was shaking me. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes before finding Lunette’s frightened gaze. “What is it?” I asked, my heart suddenly beating rapidly, adrenaline sending me from a dead sleep to wide awake in five seconds flat.
Lunette stroked a calico cat she held at her chest. “I heard a noise.”
“Probably the cats, don’t you think?”
“No, it’s a loud clanging sound. I’d go look but…”
“I got it. I’ll go give the house a once over,” I assured her, getting up and grabbing an iron tool from the basket at the fireplace. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just a frisky kitten.”
Lunette held the calico tighter. “Hurry back.”
Stepping out into the dark hall, I clicked her door shut behind me. I didn’t want to leave her, but I had to make sure it was just a kitten, and not the unknown killer from my nightmare. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Reluctantly, I traversed down the stairs. Cats sleeping on windowsills and in wicker baskets didn’t so much as wink an eye open at me. Well, if the animals weren’t alarmed, that gave me some measure of peace.
Carrying the metal fire poker felt silly then as I waltzed through the downstairs entryway and down the hall, checking the reading areas and finding nothing but snoozing piles of purring fur. I was just about to go back upstairs when a loud clatter sounded. Then another. And another.
