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He sighs heavily. “No, I’m not. I just want you to consider that you might be better off with us. The Noctu wouldn’t treat you like that.”
“Sure,” I mutter. “Because we’ve just established that they’re nothing like the Tempes Council.”
In a way, I can understand why he’s so intent on convincing me to switch sides. But I’ve already made it clear to him that’s not going to happen. And to keep trying, especially at a time like this…
“Have you talked to your parents about Kate’s prophecy?” I say to change the subject.
Noah’s hesitation is all the answer I need. “No, and honestly, I just don’t believe it’s true.”
I nod sadly. “Still, you still ask them. Kate’s never been wrong before.”
“I will,” he mutters, then falls silent again.
Neither of us seems to know what to say. It’s weird – something I’ve never felt between us before, and it makes me incredibly sad.
“Let me know how the interrogation goes.”
“I will,” I reply, but Noah’s already ended the call.
Chapter 4
Iglance at the clock one last time before making my way to the gym where the interrogation will take place. The dread starts to surface, but I force it back down. Being nervous won’t help. What I need is a clear head, and I can’t afford to show any weakness. I square my shoulders and walk purposefully down the corridor.
The door is closed, and I’m about to knock and open it when I hear footsteps behind me. A relieved smile passes across my lips when I see Ayden. He stops beside me.
“Let’s hope we can quickly put this behind us,” he says.
“I wonder if we’ll find out what story the Fabrici family told the Council. I’m guessing they figured out pretty quickly what their son was up to. The dead key spirits paint a pretty clear picture.”
“I doubt we’ll hear much from them,” says Ayden.
He’s probably right. Alessandro’s family will do everything in their power to keep his name, and theirs, out of the mud. I exchange a brief glance with Ayden, knock on the door, and we enter.
I stop in my tracks, taken aback by the scene before me. On the far side of the room, a row of tables has been arranged in a semicircle, and the individual Council members are sitting behind them. And there are a number of them: Alessandro’s parents, naturally. But their son Alfredo is present too. Beside him sits a woman of around sixty with snow-white hair, and a guy with ash-blond hair who looks about fifty. I recognize Mr. Montrell and his daughter, then there’s a tall man with sunken cheeks. The last couple of tables are occupied by Albert and Lennard Cunningham and a slender woman with pronounced cheekbones and long blonde hair. I count eleven people. With Mr. Collins, who’s sitting off to one side, it’s twelve. These are the most influential Council members before me. I glance at Alfredo, who regards me with a smoldering glare and a bitter expression. I guess he insisted on being part of this interrogation. And that can’t be a good thing.
“It’s a pleasure to welcome you both here today, although I would have preferred to meet under different circumstances,” Albert Cunningham begins. “Some of us are already known to you, Miss Franklin.” He turns to me. “Of course you know the Fabricis, who have granted their son’s request to be included on this panel. Mr. Montrell and his daughter have been introduced to you, as have I and my nephew Lennard. The man beside Leonard Montrell is his brother Eric.”
I catch myself in time before my eyebrows shoot up because the brothers look absolutely nothing alike. In fact, they’re almost the opposite of one another.
“The lady seated beside the Fabricis is Vanessa Tumberland,” Mr. Cunningham continues.
She looks at me keenly and gives a curt nod. Her greenish-blue eyes aren’t just attentive and piercing, they also suggest a sharp mind. She’s not easily fooled.
“Beside her is William Tumberland, Vanessa’s cousin. And finally, Matilda Cunningham, my daughter and the mother of my granddaughter Claire.”
The resemblance is unmistakable. They’re both very pretty, but whereas Claire comes across as carefree, her mother looks serious, even a little severe. Her eyes are completely devoid of warmth, and I wonder whether she’s always this stern or if it’s a manner she’s assumed for the interrogation. Either way, it’s not a good sign.
She takes this opportunity to interject. “I think that’s enough with the introductions. “We’re here today to investigate the death of Alessandro Fabrici. I know you’ve both given a statement already. But as I’m sure you understand, we need to examine things a little more closely in this case. After all, a hunter was critically injured, and Alessandro Fabrici was killed. We have a few more questions for you.”
“Of course,” I reply. “The incident weighs heavily on me too. It was a horrible experience for all of us.”
“We can’t help wondering,” Mr. Montrell chimes in, “how the Noctu managed to break into the house unseen. Although I’m sure more stringent security measures could have been taken…” Apparently, he can’t resist this little dig at the rival family. “…the house wasn’t unprotected.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t answer that,” Ayden replies without hesitation. “And it’s not really our job – that’s up to the hunters and the Council to investigate. The fact is, Teresa and I left the party to talk privately. We had a personal matter to discuss,” he explains, looking at me as if we have a difficult history. Which we do. “Then we heard what sounded like a fight. I can’t tell you why Alessandro was in the cellar or how the three Noctu got in. The situation struck me as strange at the time, and I sensed a lot of anger in that fight – hate even. It seemed kind of personal.”
Surprised, I glance at Ayden out of the corner of my eye. It’s obvious what he’s implying.
“So you’re suggesting that Alessandro knew the Noctu and that he may have let them in himself?” Mr. Cunningham asks with interest.
