arched his neck to look down at me, pulling back slightly so he could see me.
I sighed. “Sorry to wake you.”
He propped himself on his free arm and continued to look down at me. “Did you reach Tyr then?”
“Yeah.” Skipping the conversation about the alternate realities, I told Bahlin about the statement Tyr had made regarding reassurance.
Bahlin’s brow creased in concentration, and he tapped his fingers against my hip. This went on for several minutes before Bahlin finally said, “Let’s get a piece of paper and work this out.”
He grabbed the notepad the hotel had provided on the telephone desk and we sat at the small table. Putting my name in the middle, he said, “We know you’re worried about Hellion.” He wrote Hellion’s name above mine and drew a short line connecting the two. He did the same for Tarrek and Imeena. “Who else are you worried about?”
I thought about all the monsters I’d met in my short time here. I glanced at Bahlin and immediately looked away. Without a word he wrote his name on the pad of paper.
“It’s only fair,” he said softly.
“Honesty?” I asked.
“Remember? Always.”
“Brylanna.”
Bahlin’s head snapped up like I’d slapped him, and he looked at me closely. “My sister has nothing to do with the disappearances.”
“True, but she’s done nothing to help either. Shouldn’t a Seer—or would that be Seeress?—be more involved with solving a series of crimes that affect her brother?”
Bahlin dropped the pen and shoved away from the table, nearly sending it over on its side. He stalked to the balcony window and threw it open making the glass vibrate heavily in its frame. “Sodding hell,” he yelled to the sunless sky. He spun to face me, his eyes wild. “No,” he whispered. But the seed of doubt was cast.
His body shivered and muscles moved beneath his skin as he fought not to shift. He turned away from me and the fabric of the shirt stretched, seeming to strain to contain the twin mounds his wings made as they tried to push through his skin. He was as close to losing it as I’d ever seen him, and it frightened me.
I picked the pen up off the floor where it had landed when Bahlin had shoved away from the table. I wrote Brylanna’s name at the bottom of the page and drew a connecting line to me. Bahlin stood there, chest heaving, pleading with his whole being for me to say it wasn’t a possibility. But we’d promised each other honesty.
“Come back to the table,” I said gently. “We have to discuss this, Bay.”
He walked back to the table with jerky movements, nothing like the graceful predator in motion he normally projected. “Give me another name,” he said, his voice gravelly.
“There’s no one else,” I said, reaching over to lay my hand over his clenched fist. He relaxed incrementally, and I squeezed his hand. “The other Seer is dead, the Council all but disbanded in the wake of Imeena’s disappearance. Whoever has planned this has done a very thorough job of dismantling the only semblance of organization in the paranormals’ society.”
We sat staring at the names on the paper. The killer’s name was on that sheet. I was sure of it.
“According to Tyr, one of my skills is determining truth when it’s in front of me. Let’s see if he’s right,” I said. I tore off the top sheet of paper, setting in the center of the table. Then I wrote each individual’s name on a separate sheet of paper and each sheet in a corresponding circle on the table. I picked up Bahlin’s sheet first.
“You’re serious,” he said, his voice flat and emotionless.
“I have to rule you out officially.” I reached for his hand again, but he withdrew it before we touched. “Bay, I am about to sentence someone to death. I have to be able to defend my position without prejudice. You taught me that first rule. Tell me why you didn’t do it.”
“Because I love you,” he roared in that gravelly voice. I crossed my arms under my breasts and met his heated gaze with my own cool one. He slapped his hands on the table and the little eddies of air he created sent the paperwork fluttering about. He stood and towered over me. “I love you, and that should be enough.”
I held my ground despite my fear that this would create a new, irrepairable fissure in our relationship. “It is—for me. But explain it to me as if