Page 33 of This Monster of Mine

“He was placed on ice as requested,” she said. “The body is exactly as we received him, which is to say, there isn’t much.”

The door scraped open, a glacial blast rushing out from the gap. Ice encased the narrow chamber within, massive blocks rising from the ground like frozen coffins. She focused on a shapeless form atop one, and her heart dropped.Jovian.

The first thing she saw was a finger, severed at the second knuckle. Bone peeked through the nail, pointing toward the remnants of a hand. Trying not to vomit, she followed the hand up to Jovian’s shattered upperarms, the fragments of ribs hanging from a broken chest.Gods.What had happened to ruin his hands so horribly? If she didn’t know better, she would have thought this was— She froze.

Slowly, she dragged her gaze to Jovian’s face. The eyes shoved into their sockets, the chin buried somewhere in his neck, lower jaw unhinged in a scream that had ended violently. Her breath fanned out shakily. Because there was only one explanation for the mangled hands and missing face, while the back of his skull was in one piece. Because people always threw their hands out at the end, in the vain hope of easing their collision with the ground.

“Four oak bookcases and a dagger to the chest.” Geena’s voice seemed distant. “Why would he choose to die this way?”

This wasn’t the work of any bookcase.Sarai’s hands shook.This is …

“A fall,” a beautiful voice pronounced.

Kadra was staring at the corpse, face grim. The air in her lungs was suddenly scalding as a single realization crystallized.

He did it.

Her. Jovian. And very likely all the other Petitors. Harion was right. It wasn’t suicide. Kadra had killed them all.

“But he was found in his study.” Geena looked bewildered.

“He didn’t die there.” Kadra examined Jovian’s broken legs. “He fell to his death.”

“Tetrarch Kadra, I beg your pardon, but a body has to fall at least a hundred feet to look like this,” Geena stammered. “No building in this Quarter is that high—”

“Aoran Tower,” Sarai whispered. A prickling at the back of her neck told her that she had Kadra’s full attention. “Sidran Tower. Lisran Tower. From what I’ve seen, the Academiae’s towers are the highest points in Edessa. Well over a hundred and fifty feet.”

“And not one magus noticed a Petitor falling off?” The Lugen scoffed.

Sarai steeled herself. “No one saw the Sidran Tower Girl fall either.”

“Don’t bring that dead guttersnipe from gods only know where into this,” Geena snapped. “Petitor Jovian was someone ofstanding. He mattered.”

Sarai was suddenly the temperature of erupting lava.“I don’t thinkstandingdetermines if someone matters.”

Geena snorted. “Look, I understand that you northerners don’t know how things work, but we Lugens investigate the dead, and Petitors handle the living. And it’s myprofessionalopinion that Jovian was crushed to death under four bookcases …”

A dull buzzing filled Sarai’s ears.You’re wrong.Clenching her shaking hands into fists, she tried to breathe, failing which she searched for a blade nearby, anything sharp to impale the man who’d brought her here to show off akill. She found only ice.

What if it isn’t him?hissed the black part of her Kadra had roused.Why would he throw you off and have you healed afterward? If he’s been killing Petitors and disguising it as suicide, then why leave only you alive?

Because no one would believe me, she retorted. But her fury faltered. Kadra was too wily to risk a loose end. Especially when a Petitor could drag out her scant memories of that night and identify his voice.

It doesn’t make sense.She stared at Jovian’s ruptured eyes, realizing what had made Kadra’s companion retch at the sight of her. How had the healers even put her back together?

“Why do you think that he fell from a tower?” Kadra cut in.

“Because …” Her voice dwindled to a croak.

The ground teetered. Jovian’s corpse elongated into shadows that fled to every corner of the room. Kadra’s voice was a dulcet blur. She dug her nails into her arms.Not here. Not now. Not in front of them.

“He …” she tried again, only for the word to end in a wheeze.

Something clamped onto her wrist, firmly propelling her forward and out of the room. Warmth returned to her fingers in a painful rush as the door swung shut. She released a tight breath. Her vision cleared.

The grip on her wrist registered first. She followed the large hand circling it until the shape before her settled into the harsh planes of Kadra’s face.Shit.

Before he could speak, she cleared her throat. “His hands.”

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