Page 25 of The Cursed Fae

“I saw him the afternoon of his death. At Maven Institute. Getting his weekly infusion.” She paused and gave me a pointed look that I couldn't interpret. Missy's exasperated expression suggested she wanted to apply for a better spirit whisperer. “I also received a huge transfusion the night I died.”

Whether it was exhaustion or otherwise, I was still missing the significance of her words.

Missy gave an annoyed sigh. “There is no way a person can drain themselves of that much magic in just a few hours. Someone drained us. On purpose. Someone found out about my condition, about Ray's condition, and they killed us because of it.”

“Who?” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Who drained you? Was it Ewan?”

My spirit friend blinked. “Ewan Wynn?”

Her tone made me rethink the accusation. Missy shook her head. “I don't think so. I don't know how that would work. He's a shifter. He can't use magic, so he can't take it. Only fae and casters can drain each other. Well, and vampires, but that's different.”

“Right, of course,” I said, pretending I'd taken that fact into account. “But the rumors...” I tapped my incisor. “You know, the ones about Ewan and his fanged lover?”

Missy laughed. “Most rumors at this school are false, Winter. Remember that.”

My cheeks flushed. She was right, and I knew better than to believe everything I was told. Still, I noticed she didn't outright refute the gossip. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs; sleep deprivation was not helping me.

“Okay, then tell me who it was, Missy. Who found out about your condition?”

She threw her arms up in the air. “I don't know, Winter. My killer didn't sign the threatening note they left on my car.”

Blood rushed to my head. “I'm sorry, you received an anonymous letter? What did it say?”

“I didn't memorize the words,” she shot back. She inhaled a long, unnecessary breath. “It was a riddle or a—”

“A poem,” I finished for her, my own breaths coming faster. This was not good. Whoever sent me the paper airplane had drained Missy and, according to her, Ray Cantrell.

“How did you know that?” Alarm was clear in Missy's question.

A door opened at the far end of the hallway, another student wandering the floor in the middle of the night.

“Doesn't matter right now,” I said in a low voice only meant for Missy's ears. The last thing I needed was someone to catch me sitting in the lounge talking to myself. “Just tell me what you remember about the day you died.”

“I was trying to hide how frequently I needed the infusions, so I didn't go to Maven for it. Instead, I received the infusion at my parent's house. They were out of town for the weekend, and Morgan was over. Afterwards I was exhausted. It was late, so she left and I went to bed.” Missy frowned and lifted her hands to the sides of her head. “The pain woke me up. My skull felt like it was splitting in half. I think I passed out.”

Footsteps grew louder, the nighttime wanderer coming closer to the lounge.

“Ewan found your body in Gemini Forest. Do you remember going to the forest?” I hated forcing her to relive the traumatic details of her own death, but our time together was ending.

Missy shook her head. “I don't remember leaving my house. I don't remember anything after the pain.” She met my gaze, eyes frantic and pleading. “Why can't I remember?”

I had no answer, of course. Magic draining wasn't my area of expertise, but I refrained from making a snarky comment to that effect.

A silhouette came into view, and then a scratchy, familiar voice said, “Winter? Everything okay? Were you just talking to someone?”

Morgan. Of course. She clearly hadn't been sleeping much since Missy's death.

The spirit's dark eyes grew sad, longing coloring her expression. I glanced between the two women and felt their shared misery.

“Don't tell her about me.” Missy whispered the words like Morgan could hear her, and then the spirit vanished, leaving me alone to lie to my new friend.

Smiling over at Morgan, I gave an embarrassed little laugh. “I was talking to myself. I do that sometimes.”

I spent the following day replaying my conversation with Missy in my head. She had received a threatening poem on the day she died. Someone had known about her condition and killed her. Same with Ray. Except the poem part.

The supernatural world was too new, too foreign, and I didn't know whether there was a rational explanation for parts of Missy's story that sounded nefarious at face value. I also didn't know who to ask. Who could I trust to tell the truth without being interrogated in return? I wasn't ready to share my spirit-talking abilities with the world.

To be on the safe side, I avoided Ewan as much as possible, even arriving early to Professor Tartan's class so I could grab a seat near the front. Missy's information alleviated some of my anxiety regarding the shifter, but I still didn't believe in his innocence. Even if he had nothing to do with Missy's death, Ewan preferred the company of vampires. That alone was a big red flag telling me to stay far away from him.

---