rattled inside. Even though this world looked kinder than the last two, I sensed it was a front to lull us into a false sense of security. Evil undoubtedly lurked here, lying in wait like a tigri.
I leaned over a stack of papers and thumbed through them until I found a folder labeled Cruz Vega. My eyes widened. Was this the same Cruz Vega who’d helped Iba and Nima liberate Neverra and who’d died to save Neenee’s life? The one who’d brought Pappy back to life after Stella had slit his throat? The fallen hero we paid our respects to each year on the anniversary of his death?
I flipped open the file and flicked through it until I came upon a mugshot of a handsome man with black hair and green eyes, the very same man Iba had a picture of in his office. Although I was grateful he’d sacrificed himself to allow my aunt back into Neverra, a piece of me had always wished he could’ve found a way to survive.
“What did you find?” Remo asked, spinning a pen he must’ve picked up in the drawer.
“Unless this is part of the decor, Cruz Vega seems to have been arrested for”—I skimmed the file until I found a sloppily handwritten note—“murdering and impersonating a medical examiner.” I scanned the rest of the page, my gaze widening when I caught the bailee’s name and signature. My father’s. “Think this is real?”
Remo approached and peered over my shoulder. “Maybe. Too bad your dad can’t bail us out of here.”
“That would be convenient.” I scraped my hair back and studied Cruz’s picture again. The fae had been male-model gorgeous, not to mention kind, generous, intelligent, and selfless. If he’d survived and had been my age, or around my age, I would’ve fallen head-over-heels for him.
“You have some drool on your chin.”
I lifted my gaze off the picture and set it on the fae who had, unfortunately, survived. “Funny.”
He obviously thought it was funny since he was smirking. “While you were staring at the dead fae, I took inventory of the place, and besides this pen”—he twirled it again between his fingers—“there’s nothing here.”
I wanted to take the file with me, as a sort of memento for Nima and Iba, but had no bag and didn’t want souvenirs of this place. Besides, this was all fake, or deepfakes, so it would probably not survive transportation through the portal. I set the file down and walked over to the door Remo propped open.
“After you, Trifecta.”
Oh . . . the horrid nickname. “Why do the good men die but the bad ones persist?” I asked as I brushed past him.
“Just because he died heroically doesn’t mean he was a good man.”
“I beg to differ. That’s exactly what it means.”
“Then according to your logic, that makes me a good man.”
I stopped walking and whirled to face him. Although the back of his body was coated in mud, his front was surprisingly clean and devoid of scrapes. “How does that make you a good man, Remo?”
“Well.” He clicked the top of his pen, sliding the ink tip out, then clicked again, sliding the tip back in. “I saved you from breaking your neck in the last cell and died doing it.”
“Except you didn’t die.”
“I beg to differ.” He clicked his pen again. “I came back to life, but I most definitely died.”
Even though he did have a point, calling me bad company canceled out any heroic act. “If you want to be a hero, stay dead next time.”
He shot me a lopsided grin. “But then you’d be awfully lonely.”
“Unlike you, I’d rather be alone than in bad company.” I took off toward the next building, the one sandwiched between Bee’s Place and the jail—a mint-green two-story house that read ANGEL SPA.
“You seem awfully bitter I called you bad company.”
I spun around. “Was it supposed to be a compliment?”
His eyes darkened. I waited a couple seconds for him to apologize. When no apology came, I turned back toward the spa and shoved the door open. The bell over the door tinkled. I inhaled, expecting the scent of warmed candle wax and exotic oils. All I got was dry plaster and musty air. Glass jars lined the walls, but all were empty. I went up a set of carpeted stairs that creaked underfoot. The small landing gave onto three rooms—two had massage tables and empty cupboards, one had a small iridescent-tiled bathroom. Excitement tore through me at the sight of