Raen

  Two hours. Two solid hours sitting across from Sevrin Laurec in the interrogation room, and Raen was getting nowhere. Tyler watched through the observation screen.

  "I'm telling you again, Arcanis Thorne — I blocked my gift years ago. I don't consider myself a healer anymore. That's why I didn't mention it to your colleague." Sevrin's voice finally cracked with frustration. He'd been remarkably calm up until now. "Since when is having an arcane gift a crime?"

  "It's not. But hiding it is suspicious. Why did you block it?"

  "That's personal. I don't have to tell you anything." Sevrin leaned back, arms crossed. "You should be looking for Lizzie's actual killer instead of wasting time on me. I have an alibi for the time of her death anyway."

  Raen slammed his fist on the table and walked out.

  "He does have an alibi," Tyler said as Raen joined him in the observation room.

  Raen was silent for a moment, watching Sevrin through the screen. The man looked too confident. Too comfortable.

  "You don't need me to explain how reliable alibis from lovers tend to be," he finally said.

  "Maybe we arrested him too quickly?"

  "We have twenty-four hours. Get the twins on his alibi — have them talk to the girlfriend. Whatever it takes." Raen turned away from the screen. "You and I are going to his apartment. We'll find something that connects him to Lizzie. Once we understand the motive, we'll have him." He paused, frustrated. "It's unfortunate the Grolas authorities gave us nothing about why he blocked his gift."

  "Lucky they responded at all," Tyler said, pulling out his commulet to signal the vampires. Raen suspected they wouldn't be thrilled — probably out enjoying their Saturday night.

  Twenty minutes later, Raen and Tyler stood in Sevrin Laurec’s apartment. The place screamed of someone trying too hard to impress. New, stylish furniture — all of it spectacularly uncomfortable. Raen couldn't imagine eating dinner perched on those high chromium stools with no backs. Like a chicken on a roost.

  Everyone has their quirks, he thought.

  Unfortunately, nothing useful was turning up. A few arcanegraphs of Emin and Liz together, but that was expected for close friends. Raen's gaze drifted across the bookshelf. A large volume with gold-embossed binding caught his eye. He had a weakness for quality printed editions. As he pulled the book out to examine it, an arcanegraph slipped from between the pages and fell to the floor.

  Raen picked it up. Looked at the image.

  Froze.

  Lizzie stared back at him, eyes bright with laughter and happiness, wrapped in Sevrin’s arms. And the way Sevrin held her — that was definitely more than friendly.

  He turned the photo over. On the back, in Lizzie's handwriting: I love you beyond the clouds. Your Liz.

  "Ty!" Raen called out. "I found something!"

  Tyler appeared, snatched the photo from his hands, and whistled low.

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  "Back to the office?"

  "No. Let's hit Lizzie's building first. Show Sevrin’s photo to the neighbors. Maybe someone remembers seeing him that night."

  Tyler nodded.

  ***

  By the time they reached Lizzie's apartment building, it was late evening. Residents weren't thrilled about Enclave’s investigators knocking on doors, and most couldn't — or wouldn't — remember anything about the night of the murder. Several recognized Sevrin from the arcanegraph, said they'd seen him with Liz occasionally. But not that fatal evening.

  Then their luck turned.

  A young woman opened one door, clearly dressed for a night out — short, glittering dress, dramatic evening makeup. A fluffy gray cat wound around her ankles, and she scooped it up.

  "Oh, you’re here about Lizzie, right?" she said when Raen showed his credentials. "I was actually planning to come by your office, but I've been swamped. I left for the coast Sunday morning, and when I got back, work has been insane. Getting home after dark every night."

  Raen's attention sharpened. "Did you see something the night of the murder?"

  "I didn’t see Lizzie’s fiancé, if that's what you're asking. Everyone here says he's the main suspect." She shifted the cat in her arms. "But around one in the morning —technically Monday by then — I saw Lizzie's friend. Sevrin, I think his name is. He didn't notice me. I was on the stairwell one floor up, and it's pretty dark there. The stairs don't get much lighting, but I had a clear view of Sevrin leaving Lizzie's apartment."

  Raen and Tyler exchanged glances.

  "What were you doing on the stairs?" Tyler asked.

  "My cat escaped. I was out there for half an hour searching floors, getting angrier by the minute. Gray fur, sits in dark corners — you can't see him." She looked sternly at the cat and flicked its nose. The cat wriggled free indignantly and disappeared into the apartment. "He's always looking for adventure."

  "Did you hear anything from Lizzie's apartment?"

  The woman thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No sounds at all. Just quiet. Sevrin came out, closed the door behind him. Stood there for a minute looking thoughtful, then left. I remember thinking it was weird — Lizzie had a fiancé, so why was this other man visiting her in the middle of the night? Even if they were just friends, it seemed strange. Not like her. That's why it stuck with me. And then I found out she'd been killed that same night."

  "I see. Thank you for the information. Can you come to the office to give an official statement?"

  "Sure," she sighed without much enthusiasm. "Does it have to be before Monday? I'm definitely not going to be in any condition tomorrow." She giggled. The fact of her neighbor's death didn't seem to trouble her much.

  She saw the killer and didn't bother reporting it for over a week, Raen thought. Remarkable carelessness.

  They thanked her and left.

  ***

  Back at the office, the twins were waiting. Both wore evening tuxedos, hair slicked back — they'd definitely been pulled away from some entertainment. Now they sat at the table playing cards with enthusiasm. When they spotted Raen and Tyler, they set the game aside.

  The satisfied, fang-bearing grins on their faces said everything.

  "Boss, you were right," Andreas said. "The girlfriend was covering for Laurec. She wants to marry him, so she agreed to lie."

  "What changed her mind?" Tyler asked.

  "She feels humiliated and insulted. Her would-be husband disappeared for over a week, keeps refusing to see her. She thinks he's found someone new."

  "His interest seems to be old, actually," Raen said. He laid the arcanegraph of Lizzie and Sevrin on the table.

  "Wow! Plot twist!"

  "Once again proving there's no such thing as simple friendship between men and women," Tyler concluded.

  "Come on, Thomas and I are friends with Alice!" Andreas protested.

  "'Friends,'" Tyler said dryly. "Tell me honestly — if there wasn't a ban on personal relationships between colleagues, wouldn't you both be pursuing her?"

  The twins looked down simultaneously, caught.

  "All right, everyone go home. It's late." Raen cut off the argument. Seeing Tyler's protest, he added, "We'll interrogate Laurec on Monday. We have our motive now. The timeline isn't pressing. I want to think everything through carefully and plan how to approach him."

  Tyler nodded, satisfied.

  As Raen gathered his things, his thoughts drifted to Alice. Tomorrow he'd drive her and Lilly home from his sister's place. The case was coming together — they'd crack Sevrin by Monday, no question. Which meant Alice's suspension would end soon. She could rejoin the team.

  The thought of seeing her tomorrow, of having her back at work, brought an unexpected lightness to his chest.

  He pushed the feeling aside and headed for the door. First, solve the case. Everything else could wait.

  Though waiting was getting harder.