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He lounges back in his chair, one ankle thrown over his knee, his thumb rubbing his lower lip while he watches me. Judging from the heat in his eyes, he’s vividly remembering that evening as well. And unlike me, he doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by it.

One of the vines extends the cup of tea to Mara. She takes it, sipping daintily from it.

“So,” she says, “festivities aside, I’ve also heard you are actively looking for the Thief of Souls.” Mara watches me over the rim of her teacup.

I nod. I mean, technically, Des and I are investigating this together, but when I look at him again, I get the impression he wants me to take full credit for this.

“So you’re aware guards from all four kingdoms have gone missing during the Solstice festivities. All men.”

Again, I nod.

“I was hoping to avoid this situation.” She takes a sip of her tea and shakes her head. “I wanted to discuss with you the testimony of the last people to see these soldiers alive. I think you’ll find it most interesting.”

Deliberately, she leans over and picks up a silver stirring spoon from the tea tray then dips it into her cup. “You see, many of them say they last saw their comrades with a single individual. Thesameindividual.”

I grip the edges of the armrest, already dreading, alreadyknowing, what she’s going to say.

“Who?” I ask anyway.

“Your mate, Desmond Flynn.”

Chapter 36

Des continues to languidly sit in the chair across from me. One of his eyebrows arches. “You thought to tell my mate about thisalone?”

Nothing about this situation makes any sense. Not the testimony, which I can barely wrap my mind around, and not Des’s unruffled reaction to it.

Mara ignores him. “Can you account for your mate’s whereabouts over the past several evenings?”

Wait, seriously? She wants me to give an alibi for Des?

My eyes move between Mara and Des—Mara, who looks like a shark who’s scented blood, and Des, who’s not giving away anything.

“Yes,” I say, my voice unfaltering. “He’s been with me. You’re looking at the wrong man. Janus was the one who took—”

“Desmond was with you the entire night?” Mara probes, talking over me.

My siren stirs at my agitation, wanting out. If I were back on earth, I’d repress her, but here in the Otherworld, where my magic is mostly useless, I don’t have to worry about my power getting out of hand. So I let her out.

My skin begins to shimmer. “Do youreallythink I would let the King of the Night out of my bed once he was in it?” I say, glamour riding my voice.

I amnotone to be interrogated.

Across from me Mara smiles a little, her eyes shrewd.

Glass shatters, interrupting the moment.

A pretty, young servant stares at me, her eyes wide, a shattered vase at her feet. She steps closer, glass crunching beneath the soles of her shoes.

Mara rolls her eyes. “Insolent thing,” she says under her breath. “Clean that up now,” she orders.

But the servant doesn’t clean up the vase. She’s not listening to the Flora Queen at all. Her eyes are trained on me, completely under my spell.

My dark, seductive power laps beneath my skin.

Finally, someone to bend to my will.

Mara sets down her cup of tea, the vines around her beginning to slither and snap in agitation.