“I heard through the grapevine that your little boy is quite the character,” Dion went on.

“I can agree with that,” said Knox, ignoring the prompts for him to speak more about Asher. He would do nothing to pique Dion’s interest in his son.

As if resigned to that, Dion let out a long breath. “You told me during your last visit that you don’t do social calls, so I’m guessing this is business.”

“Of a sort.”

Clasping his hands again, Dion offered him a cordial smile. “Tell me, how can I help you?”

“I’m sure you heard about what happened to Alethea.”

Distaste crossed Dion’s face. “Awful. Just awful. And to have such an undignified death be shared with the world … ” He shook his head. “It would be truly maddening to know your final moments would be uploaded onto the internet for all to see, especially for someone like Alethea.”

Knox tilted his head. “Did you know her well?”

“Not really, no.” Dion stilled, eyes widening just a little. “Am I a suspect? Again?”

“No,” Knox lied. Personally, in Dion’s position, Knox wouldn’t have been reassured, but his response immediately put Dion at ease. “I discovered from Jonas that Alethea was acting strangely before she disappeared.”

Dion’s brow creased. “Disappeared?”

“She wasn’t seen by Jonas for at least five and a half months before her death.”

“Really?” Dion blinked. “I had no idea.”

“I’ve been speaking with everyone who spent time with Alethea running up to her disappearance,” Knox again lied. “You were one of them.”

“Well, yes, but it was at least ten months since I last saw her. I was quite surprised when I received her letter, requesting permission to visit. We had history, but that history was rather ancient. I was curious about what she wanted.”

“And?” Knox prodded.

“She said she’d broken up with Thatcher but that he was harassing her, constantly reaching out to touch her mind. She remembered that I have a psychic barrier here stopping telepathic contact from reaching the island—people can talk mind-to-mind while here, but not with someone who isn’t on the island with them. She was hoping I’d give her sanctuary for a short while.” Dion spread his hands. “She said she simply wanted to be left alone. I, of all people, understand the need for solitude.”

“Would you say she acted strangely at all while here?”

“She was tense. Edgy.” Dion paused. “She spoke of you.”

“Did she?”

“She said she’d always considered you a friend, and she felt that she’d lost that friendship since you met your mate. It saddened her. Especially since, right then, she felt you were the only person who could help her.”

Knox couldn’t imagine Alethea ever admitting to needing aid with anything. He had to wonder if she’d been playing Dion. But for what purpose? “Help her with what?”

“She wouldn’t say. I tried to get her to open up about her problems, but she would always give me this sad look and then shake her head.”

Knox twisted his mouth. “Did you give her a tour of your museum?”

“Several, actually.”

“What about the incorporeal demon you keep in there? Did you show her that?”

Dion went rigid. “How do you know about the incorporeal?” he asked flatly.

“I know many things.”

When Knox didn’t elaborate, Dion cleared his throat and spoke. “Yes, well, I did show her. I keep it in a display case—you can see the demon moving around, if you look close enough.” His eyes lit up, as if just talking about one of his collectibles got him excited. “Sometimes it even glows, you know. I’m not sure if that means it’s attempting to use power, but that would be my best guess.”

“Did Alethea show any interest in it?”

“Yes, she was quite fascinated by it, in fact. She wanted to know all about how I came to own it. Wanted to know if I’d ever free it or consider making a bargain with it. Of course, I have no intention of doing either.” Dion gave him a wry smile. “According to Alethea, that makes me a bore. If that is the case, so be it—an incorporeal on the loose can never be a good thing.”

“I agree. Do you still have the incorporeal?”

Dion’s brow puckered. “Yes, of course.”

“Can I see it?”

Eyes brightening, Dion stood. “If you have the time, I can give you a full tour of the museum. But if you’re in a rush, I can simply bring the display case to you.”

Remaining seated, Knox said, “I’m afraid I don’t have very long.”

“Ah. Another time, then. I’ll just be a moment.” Dion’s shoes clicked along the marble floor as he left the room.

I’m not sure if I believe him, said Levi without moving from his spot across the room. He seems genuine, but I don’t trust him one little bit. If he is telling the truth, I’ve got the feeling that Alethea toyed with him for sympathy or something.

The comment echoed Knox’s thoughts. Alethea would never admit to needing help. And I seriously doubt that she ever considered me or anyone else to be a friend. I also can’t envision Thatcher harassing her.

Do you think she needed a place to hide? Or do you think it’s possible that she already knew Dion had an incorporeal demon and she came here with the intention of taking it?

Either is possible.

A minute or so later, Dion reentered the room, carrying a display case. His steps were slow, his expression one of utter confusion.

“This is it?” Knox asked, standing.

Dion shook his head. “No. It’s a copy of my case. A very good copy. It’s also empty.” He stared at it, expression thoughtful. Then his eyes cut to Knox. “Odd that you would ask if I’d showed it to Alethea and then also ask me if I still have it. You think she took it?”

“Yes, I do.”

Dion’s gaze turned inward. “If she had a duplicate of the case in her possession, she must have come here specifically to steal mine,” he said, though he appeared to be talking to himself. “But how could she have known about the incorporeal or what the case looked like? I’ve never taken her through the museum before.”

“She could have had someone teleport a replica of the case to her after giving them a description of it,” Levi suggested, but Dion didn’t seem to have heard him. He seemed lost in his own thoughts.

“It hadn’t even occurred to me to check if she’d taken anything when she left. I’ll have to search the entire museum from top to bottom to see what else she stole.” Finally, Dion looked at Knox. “Do you think she meant to free the incorporeal?”

“I think she did free it,” Knox told him.

“No,” said Dion with a sharp shake of his head. “No, it’s not as easy as it may sound to free an incorporeal from a container. It would not have been as simple as merely smashing the display case.”

“Why not?” asked Knox.

“For one thing, it would take an extremely strong spell to break the glass—the ritual is quite complicated. Secondly, the incorporeal would have been in no fit state to follow her instructions. It was in captivity for a very long time. The spell that kept the case locked also kept the incorporeal from dying without a host.”

Planting his feet, Knox folded his arms. “Humor me. Let’s say she managed to free it. What would have happened next?”

“Well, when first released, the incorporeal would have been extremely weak—so much so that it wouldn’t have been able to survive outside of a human host for more than a few seconds. It also would have been unable to control the host and, as such, would have been forced to simply lie in the background while it ‘fed’ on its host’s energy.”

Rubbing at his chin, Knox asked, “How long would it have taken the incorporeal to reach such a level of strength that it could maintain a physical form of its own choosing for a short time?”

Dion was silent for a moment as he considered it. “Providing it was given a strong host to drain on being freed, I’d say it would have taken somewhere between four and six months. But only if the incorporeal was extremely powerful.”