Page 31 of Home Is Where the Witch Is
She could feel Declan bristling with annoyance beside her.
“Hello Alain,” Emperia said, having stepped forward to take the lead with this interview. “Thank you for making time for us.”
“But of course,” he said earnestly, taking the allocated seat at the end of the table. "This istresimportant, no? A young witch taken from us far too soon. A tragedy.”
“Yes, it is.” Emperia pursed her lips. “Can you tell us where you were between ten and eleven yesterday morning?”
“I was… in my accommodation. Indisposed.” He smirked as though debating whether to keep his secret, but then he shrugged and smiled devilishly at Hella. “With a woman.”
Hella smirked right back, but Emperia didn’t seem to share her bemusement.
“And this woman can corroborate your alibi?” the Arctic witch prompted.
“Mais ouis.”
“Her name?”
“Adrienne Sauville.”
“Thank you. Alain, do you have an objection to us performing a Calling spell?”
“No,” he replied, before he thought better of the question. He flushed slightly, gesturing with his hand as though to beg for clemency. “Though please, I ask you not to judge.”
“Intriguing,” Hella grinned wickedly.
The Council joined hands once more to perform the Calling, and once again the last spells of the subject were revealed.
There was a spell designed to conjure alcohol from water, and another to adjust some kind of temperature from what Rosie could gather. Then there was a spell she didn’t recognize. It seemed to involve ropes of some kind, because the spectral image of Alain’s magic formed something that looked very much like… bonds. Rosie’s eyes widened as she realized exactly what they were seeing, and she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing as she politely looked away before she could see just what—or who—the ropes were attached to.
“Wellthatwas an education,” Declan muttered to Rosie quietly, sounding intrigued.
“You’re tellin’ me,” she whispered back, feeling a little heat creeping into her own cheeks.
“You promised you wouldn’t judge,” Alain said, pretending to be wounded even though the members of the Council had promised no such thing.
“OhIain’t judgin’ sugar,” Hella told the French witch. “I’m takin’ notes.”
“I see,” Alain smirked, letting his head fall back slightly so he could appraise Hella all the better.
“Back to the matter at hand—a murdered candidate.” Emperia interrupted the flirting session with her usual crisp and business-like tone. “Monsieur D’Louncrais, did you know that Mr. Taylor was a Taniwha?”
Alain’s expression changed so fast that Rosie would have accused him of acting if his new look hadn’t been so… well,murderous. His eyes darkened and his lips pressed together into a thin line of hatred that made his otherwise handsome face look far more like a Disney villain than a Disney Prince.
“Ouis,” he growled in French, before continuing in English. “Yes, I knew. But it was not my place to say anything to the others, no matter ‘ow sorely I was tempted.” Alain sat back in his chair, the dark expression flickering over his face once more.
Rosie frowned lightly. “What do you mean?”
“One half of my heritage and one half of his are mortal enemies,” he explained. “Sworn against each other for all time.”
“Werewolves and Taniwhas?”
Alain nodded somberly.
Sothatmust have been what Medea had been alluding to when she had mentioned creature infighting and told them to question Alain. Rosie felt herself getting more and more annoyed with the Greek witch the more she thought about all her thinly disguised information.
“Sounds like a fair motive for murder if you ask me.” Emperia was watching their suspect closely, her gaze frosty before she glanced in Ivy’s direction.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Alain agreed nonchalantly. “If I had killed him, I would say so. For all my faults—and I have many,” he threw a cheeky glance in Hella’s direction, “I am honest.”
