Mal bit back a snicker. She had a point.
‘Anyway, that’s what goes on at the Century Ball.’ Her jaw tightened a fraction. ‘After we returned to Algernon’s estate, I immediately went to my suite. I had already packed a few things in anticipation and seeing those bags made me realize what I was giving up if I stayed. I decided to run. I waited until I was sure daysleep had him, then I headed out. I planned to tell the servants I was headed to Primoris Domus. There would be nothing unusual about that. And that’s when I found him in the great hall.’ She shifted uncomfortably. ‘He’d been murdered. Beheaded.’
‘The body was still tangible?’ The older a vampire was, the faster they went to ash. Fast, fast, fast for you. ‘How young was your patron?’
‘He wasn’t young.’ She shook her head. ‘He was—’
‘There’s only one way—’
‘—killed with a hot blade.’
Mal studied her face. Dread etched the corners of her mouth. That revelation had cost her something. Good. About time she started telling a few truths. ‘Vampires can’t use hot blades.’
‘No.’ She didn’t meet his eyes.
‘You think a mortal killed him? A slayer?’ There hadn’t been a successful human slayer since … ever, really. The covenant prevented it.
‘No.’ Still no visual contact. So much for truth.
He leaned forward, forcing himself not to inhale. ‘Then what do you think?’
‘That it looks like it was meant to put the blame on a comarré.’
‘Then they did a poor job. That Golgotha dagger is too small for a beheading.’
One quick glance up, then her gaze went right back to her fingers. ‘That’s not the only hot weapon we have. The sacre, our ceremonial sword, is quenched in holy water.’
What other fun toys did she have up her sleeve? ‘Where’s your sword?’
‘Unless someone moved it, it still hangs in my patron’s house on the wall of my apartment.’
‘Was it used?’ A blade made hot with magic or something sacred left a wound that would fester unhealed for a very long time. In a clean cut, it seared the flesh as it passed through. If the flesh belonged to a vampire, that meant leaving a corpse or a stump behind. A great way to send a message, or set someone up.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t think to go back and see if there was blood scent on it and there was no way to take it with me, so I just ran. I swear I’m innocent. I had no reason to do this.’
‘You had reason. He didn’t offer you freedom.’
‘I planned to leave anyway. Why would I kill him and complicate things?’ She glanced up. ‘And just because I own such a sword doesn’t mean—’
‘What happened after you saw the body?’
‘I was scared, but I went to the Primoris Domus as planned, grabbed a few more things, then went to the airport.’ She brushed the ends of her hair back and forth over her fingers.
Scared, but not so scared she couldn’t formulate a plan. ‘Why go to your house at all?’
She stared at the backs of her hands, but her eyes had a very faraway look. ‘To get cash for the ticket and to cover my signum with the foundation my friend had sent me. And to buy myself some time. It’s not unusual for one of us to spend several days at our house.’
‘Why would your friend send you makeup to cover your marks? How would she know you’d need to cover them?’
That made her look up. ‘How do you know my friend is a she?’
‘Who else would send you makeup?’ He shifted, crossed his legs. ‘Now answer the question. How did this friend know you’d need to cover them?’
‘She didn’t know. She works at a big cosmetics company, and every once in a while she’d send me samples like that.’
He watched her for a moment. She kept eye contact with him. Maybe she was telling the truth about the foundation. Still, it was a pretty interesting coincidence. ‘What did you use for ID at the airport?’
More fidgeting with the hair.
‘Whether or not I help you depends a lot on how much truth you give me.’
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘All comarré have false papers.’
More fun toys. He leaned back. ‘In case you behead someone and need to flee the country?’
‘In case our patrons need us to travel,’ she snapped back. ‘I am not guilty.’
‘You realize trying to kill me in that alley doesn’t help your case.’ He could still see her in that dim light, the speed at which she’d come at him, the sleekness of her movements. That was no lucky shot. That was practice. Most likely years of it.
Fire lit her eyes. She bowed toward him, fists planted on the mattress. ‘I didn’t intend to kill you. If I had, I would’ve moved the blade up two inches. I know more ways to kill a vampire than you’ll ever … ’ Her jaw went slack, her eyes unblinking. Closing her mouth, she sat back.
And there was the proof. Nodding slowly, he watched the anger fade into the sinking realization of what she’d just said. He lifted his palms nonchalantly. ‘But you’re innocent.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, slumping against the headboard. She covered her face with her hands.
Time to change the subject before she shut down. ‘A hundred years with your patron. That’s a long time to be with one person.’