Sasha listened as she stared at the body, going over each detail of the intact ash, and then an eerie symbol on the victim’s body drew her attention. Was it a tattoo or some other strange marking on Desidera’s belly that, for some reason, hadn’t burned?

Moving carefully so as not to disturb the ashes, Sasha pulled out a small notepad from her jeans’ back pocket and extracted the small pen that had been wedged in the spiral at the top of it. She sketched the symbol quickly and then placed her hand inches above the symbol, trying to feel any vibrations that might have been coming off of it. But just as suddenly as she’d reached out to cover it, the symbol collapsed in on itself, making her jerk back her palm.

“Where’s Penelope?” Sasha said, glancing up at Ethan.

“Every other night she works at the teahouse. It closed at ten.”

“So she’s probably home in bed,” Sasha said, now glancing at Hunter. She returned her gaze to Ethan. “So nobody called her yet to tell her what happened?”

“No. I wanted to wait until you had a chance to…” Ethan motioned to where Desidera’s body lay on the floor and then brought his fist to his mouth for a moment. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could tell Penelope that would make sense of this.”

“You’re sure no one else went by there or spoke to her? They were coworkers,” Hunter said flatly, crossing his arms over his stone-cut chest. “You said Desidera was well liked, others would know Penelope would be-”

“No. We’re the only ones, save the king and his best man, that know. We didn’t want to start a panic… Rumors would fly, and if there is a killer in our midst, we need him to be comfortable, not go into hiding.” Ethan said quickly, “I’ve been sworn by oath before the king not to divulge any of this to a soul… as it could hamper the investigation. But eventually it will leak out. I must tell Penelope, as well as the rest of the staff here, and Sir Rodney understands the need for this.”

“All right,” Sasha said. “I understand, but I’d like to talk to Penelope first thing in the morning, if not tonight.”

“Of course,” Ethan said, nodding.

Sasha let out a hard breath and stood, stretching her cramping legs and back. “Then was she dating anyone? Any current or ex-boyfriends?”

“No… not really,” Ethan replied carefully. “She hadn’t been dating anyone for some time… However, she and Sir Rodney sometimes got together.”

Again, Sasha shared a glance with Hunter. That was the last thing she’d expected Ethan to tell her. But now it made sense why the Seelie monarch was so upset.

“Was it serious?” Sasha asked, pushing for details.

“Oh, no,” Ethan said quickly, seeming more uncomfortable by the moment. “Desidera knew that she was one of many he cared for. She was very sophisticated about the whole thing, which is probably why Sir Rodney liked her so much.”

“So they were hooking up tonight,” Hunter said in a deadpan tone.

Ethan shrugged. “I would have to assume so.” Ethan’s gaze held Sasha’s for a moment and then went to Hunter’s before seeking a far-off point in the small, dank cellar. “It is my understanding that they were to meet at her apartment after her show. That was all Sir Rodney said on the matter.”

“Okay, then… like I said, we’re gonna need a list of people she might have talked to-a friend, coworker, anyone she could have confided in.” Sasha looked at Ethan, studying him hard and guessing that Desidera’s boss, whom she worked with daily, would probably know more than the kingly lover who only visited her for trysts.

“Penelope would be the best start,” Ethan said quickly, blotting the tears from his face. “Our Phoenixes are rare, and she and Penelope are from the same rookery, like I told you. If there was any girl talk or shared secrets, Penelope would have been her most likely confidante.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” Sasha said absently, returning her gaze to the ashes.

If she didn’t catch Penelope at home, she was going to have to go hunt her down at the teahouse and the last place she ever wanted to revisit was the teahouse… the place where an indiscretion had happened that almost made two alpha wolves go to war over her. Two brothers. It didn’t matter that meddling garden Fairies and outraged Pixies had been the culprits; the event was still a sore spot-one that neither she nor Hunter ever discussed. Damn, this was so not how she’d envisioned returning to New Orleans with Hunter for Sir Rodney’s annual Fae Midsummer Night’s Ball. In her mind’s eye she’d envisioned having the time of her life for her twenty-fifth birthday, a milestone that Doc had assured the general would pass without incident.

She caught Hunter’s expression with a sidelong glance, but said nothing. The muscle in his jaw pulsed a steady beat. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion about the possibility of having to go to the teahouse. Okay… so investigating at the tea house was going to be fun. Sasha let out a soft sigh.

“I trust that you understand the delicate nature of this investigation,” Ethan said, clasping his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping between Sasha and Hunter. “I have spoken at length to Sir Rodney, as I am sure you will… and he’ll tell you that this situation must be handled with the utmost discretion… News of this event, just before the ball, could cause undue panic, rumors… It is not a shallow matter of a social event coming before the death of a beautiful young woman-the death of anyone would be and is considered tragic, but…”

“But this has to be handled diplomatically,” Hunter said, finishing Ethan’s statement. “As clan leaders, we understand. Some things are not meant for public consumption until all the facts can be coherently presented.”

Hunter gave Sasha the eye, which she immediately read as his unspoken reference to the teahouse incident.

“Precisely,” Ethan said, oblivious to the couple’s undercurrent, and then closed his eyes, releasing a long breath and turning away from the charred body at Sasha’s feet. “Thank you.”

Quiet surrounded them and in those few awkward moments, Sasha’s thoughts strayed, wishing that just once there’d be no drama… that New Orleans would be a vacation destination, instead of a hotbed of paranormal intrigue. That was such an awesome fantasy. A grand fête, a sexy escort-Hunter-an enchanted village, her best friends… what was not to love? It would have been perfect. But Sir Rodney was a friend. A dear friend. And if something had happened to someone close to him, in Ethan’s bar-another dear friend-then it was like somebody messing with her family.

And, yeah, she knew the brass would want to monitor her, so between her and Doc’s fabrications and assurances that “going live” in a known paranormal zone was the best test that she wouldn’t flip out and turn into a demon-infected werewolf, it had still taken every theatrical ploy she’d known to get them to allow her and her team to return to the Big Easy so soon. Now this?

“She was such a dearheart,” Ethan said softly, walking away to catch his weight against the wall. “How could something like this happen in The Fair Lady?”

“We’ll solve this,” Sasha said, trying to offer some comfort. “You keep your head, man, all right.”

Ethan nodded, but the gesture was unsure.

All of this had to be smoothed out and kept below the military radar, while they were probably doing everything in their power to track her.

“You’re sure your human superiors will remain uninvolved?” Ethan asked, his question loaded with concern.

“Yeah,” Sasha replied, holding his gaze for a moment. No one in the room, except her, had to deal with the human population; she was the only one straddling the fence by dealing with the brass and having a human team of paranormal investigators-which had remained a sore point between her and Hunter from the beginning. “I have it under control,” she finally muttered, giving Hunter a quick, sharp glance.