Page 22 of The Shattered Kingdom
I knew it. I spin around, my budding anger growing as I lock eyes with the smirking shifter.
“Don’t push me!”
Mason blinks, not looking the least bit apologetic. I may have technically pushed him first, but I’m half his size and he didn’t even stumble. I almost ate shit.
“Don’t be such a drama queen, Abby,” he taunts. “It’s unattractive.”
I grind my teeth, mentally picturing his death as he saunters past me, taking the lead. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
Chapter Eight
KIERAN
EARLY MORNING SUNLIGHT shines through my office window. Several people are walking through the courtyard, heading toward the front entrance of the long building where most offices are located. Mine included.
I frown, shifting my attention to my oak desk. Lillian wasn’t lying. Every bit of her story checks out, even the tiny details I was convinced were too ridiculous to be true. We went as far as to test the blood from one of her discarded bandages, and sure enough, hints of delysum were found mixed within her blood.
I flip through page after page of the toxicology report, reading every sentence in excruciating detail. I was pleased to see it waiting for me on my desk this morning, but my stomach has since dropped.
I can’t fathom why. I should be relieved to discover my mate is being truthful with me, that she had no intentional part in my father’s death. Who did, then? Probably Callie, but I have no leads to her whereabouts.
Lillian claims she’s dead, and Abby’s parents confirmed that. The missing person reports they’ve recently filed for Abby and Lillian contained all the information we needed, and the faeriewho impersonated an investigator and spoke with them found nothing suspicious.
Callie died, or vanished, almost ten years ago. Abby’s parents raised Lillian, and she’s grown progressively sicker with each passing year.
The deadly side effects of delysum have been well established, and I’m surprised Callie took the risk of drinking it. Even when the leaves are steeped and their potency diminished, the plant still reacts too violently with existing magic. Lillian only survived because there was none in the human realm.
Why remain with the humans, though? If what Lillian says is true, she had no reason not to return once her mother died. She’s hiding something from us, and I can’t fathom what it could be. I’ve been flirting with the possibility that Callie is still alive, but I’m trying to trust Lillian. She insists her mother is dead, and I want to believe her.
We’re mates, and that has to mean something. I have to make it mean something, even if instinct tells me not to trust it.
A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.
I reorganize the toxicology report, then tuck it into the folder where I keep all my files on Lillian. “Come in.”
Mason comes sauntering inside. He wasn’t in his bedroom this morning, and I suspect he chose to sleep on the couch in the guest house where Lillian and Abby are staying.
“Somebody wishes to see you,” he says, stepping aside to reveal Abby.
Oh? And he chose to escort her himself? When did Mason become the human’s personal bodyguard?
Abby purses her lips, her eyes flickering around my office. The space is bland, and I can tell she’s judging it. My desk faces the door, and behind me are shelves filled with decorative books I’ve never read. There’s a long table along the right side of theroom for when I hold private meetings, but the surface is empty.
Mason welcomes himself to my things, and he fingers through the paperwork on my desk before snatching up Lillian’s report. Abby awkwardly lingers in the doorway.
I have to meet with my mother and Anox in fifteen minutes, and I glance at the clock on the corner of my desk to confirm the time.
“What can I help you with?” I ask.
“I’d like to go home,” Abby says. “When can I leave?”
I lace my fingers together and rest my hands on my desk. “We’d like you to remain here until we confirm Lillian’s story.”
Mason pauses, his movements stilling. He’s already put two and two together that Lillian’s story has checked out and I’m lying to Abby. I wait for him to contradict me, but he doesn’t.
“If this is because of Jackie’s behavior in the bathing house…” I start.
Abby’s eyes narrow, the human silently daring me to continue. I clear my throat instead, letting the rest of my sentence die out. I shouldn’t acknowledge it. Jackie was out of line, and I’ve already had her removed from the estate. Her open access has been revoked, and she can only enter on business.
