eighty-nine years old, never mated, has one sibling, and no children. Anything else?"
"Was she in a relationship?" Hank asked. "Have any friends outside of the Kinfolk that she hung out with?"
Pendaran shook his head, straightened, and leaned back against the counter behind him. "No."
Completely absolute. His response was like saying grass is green, so sure he was in his knowledge. But then, he wasn't the Druid King for nothing. Nymphs in general didn't exactly make a big attempt to foster any ties outside of the Kinfolk, and they rarely mated outside of their own race. Their pack-like mentality meant that whatever happened within their circle, Pendaran would know about, even something as mundane as who liked who.
Fine. Moving along. "And the sibling?"
"A brother. Orin. He moved here from Elysia last year."
"Did she keep an apartment in the city?" Hank asked. The only thing we had to go on was the apartment from Daya's final memories. I wanted to cross my fingers that he'd say yes.
Pendaran let out a snort. After another swig, he tossed the empty bottle in the trash can. "Kinfolk do not live outside of the Grove unless they're loners. She lived here like everyone else." His eyes narrowed on us for a hard, calculating second. "How did she die?"
My thoughts went back to the dragon screaming at the sky. The last thing I wanted was to have him go all medieval and scaly again. "We're not sure yet."
"Murder?"
"It's too early to say, but we'd like to take a look at her apartment."
One corner of his mouth dipped down. He knew I was bullshitting him. But he let it slide and pushed away from the counter and marched to the door. "Come."
We followed him from the private apartment to the main hall surrounding a large open-air courtyard with trees, gardens, and a fountain in the center where several nymphs were gathered. Heads bowed in respect as he strode by and stepped onto a raised area topped with a vine-covered pergola and fire basins on each side. Within the pergola there were chaise lounges and chairs but he remained standing, a commanding presence over the courtyard.
All eyes fixed on their king. No one spoke. The sound of the fountain became extremely loud, and the faint sounds of traffic invaded the courtyard.
Hank and I waited.
"Daya is dead," he announced without preamble.
Horrified gasps lifted in unison. Immediately a male nymph shot to his feet, his face draining of color. "No."
I focused on him, taking in his body language and aura. "Did you know her well?"
The nymph flicked a questioning glance at his king, waiting for the slight nod of approval before answering. "She ... was my sister." His voice broke, but his chin lifted a notch. "My twin."
My entire brow rose, and my gaze went to Pendaran. Orin's sister was dead and this is how he tells the poor guy? Guess leadership and empathy didn't go hand in hand here in nymph territory.
"Orin," I began, allowing the sympathy I felt into my tone. I'd had a twin. I knew what it was like to lose your other half. I'd never get over Connor's death. Never. And I knew that, after the shock wore off, Orin was in for a lifetime of grieving where Daya was concerned.
Hank took over when I failed to expand on the sentence I'd started. "Did your sister have a second place outside of the Grove or maybe a friend she stayed with sometimes?"
Orin's glassy gaze went from me to the ground where he stared intently at the grass cradling his bare feet. A tear slid down and hung off his chin before he sniffed and swiped it with the back of his hand. "No." His answer was barely audible.
"Was she seeing anyone?" Hank asked.
Orin's eyes closed slowly. His face went a shade paler. The air in the courtyard flared from grief to fear, and panic. Underlying it all, I detected a faint wisp of aura gathering. It pricked the hairs on the back of my neck. I glanced around and my gaze found Pendaran. His nostrils flared slightly. His arms were crossed over his chest, legs braced apart.
"Was she in a relationship?" Hank asked. "Have any friends outside of the Kinfolk that she hung out with?"
Pendaran shook his head, straightened, and leaned back against the counter behind him. "No."
Completely absolute. His response was like saying grass is green, so sure he was in his knowledge. But then, he wasn't the Druid King for nothing. Nymphs in general didn't exactly make a big attempt to foster any ties outside of the Kinfolk, and they rarely mated outside of their own race. Their pack-like mentality meant that whatever happened within their circle, Pendaran would know about, even something as mundane as who liked who.
Fine. Moving along. "And the sibling?"
"A brother. Orin. He moved here from Elysia last year."
"Did she keep an apartment in the city?" Hank asked. The only thing we had to go on was the apartment from Daya's final memories. I wanted to cross my fingers that he'd say yes.
Pendaran let out a snort. After another swig, he tossed the empty bottle in the trash can. "Kinfolk do not live outside of the Grove unless they're loners. She lived here like everyone else." His eyes narrowed on us for a hard, calculating second. "How did she die?"
My thoughts went back to the dragon screaming at the sky. The last thing I wanted was to have him go all medieval and scaly again. "We're not sure yet."
"Murder?"
"It's too early to say, but we'd like to take a look at her apartment."
One corner of his mouth dipped down. He knew I was bullshitting him. But he let it slide and pushed away from the counter and marched to the door. "Come."
We followed him from the private apartment to the main hall surrounding a large open-air courtyard with trees, gardens, and a fountain in the center where several nymphs were gathered. Heads bowed in respect as he strode by and stepped onto a raised area topped with a vine-covered pergola and fire basins on each side. Within the pergola there were chaise lounges and chairs but he remained standing, a commanding presence over the courtyard.
All eyes fixed on their king. No one spoke. The sound of the fountain became extremely loud, and the faint sounds of traffic invaded the courtyard.
Hank and I waited.
"Daya is dead," he announced without preamble.
Horrified gasps lifted in unison. Immediately a male nymph shot to his feet, his face draining of color. "No."
I focused on him, taking in his body language and aura. "Did you know her well?"
The nymph flicked a questioning glance at his king, waiting for the slight nod of approval before answering. "She ... was my sister." His voice broke, but his chin lifted a notch. "My twin."
My entire brow rose, and my gaze went to Pendaran. Orin's sister was dead and this is how he tells the poor guy? Guess leadership and empathy didn't go hand in hand here in nymph territory.
"Orin," I began, allowing the sympathy I felt into my tone. I'd had a twin. I knew what it was like to lose your other half. I'd never get over Connor's death. Never. And I knew that, after the shock wore off, Orin was in for a lifetime of grieving where Daya was concerned.
Hank took over when I failed to expand on the sentence I'd started. "Did your sister have a second place outside of the Grove or maybe a friend she stayed with sometimes?"
Orin's glassy gaze went from me to the ground where he stared intently at the grass cradling his bare feet. A tear slid down and hung off his chin before he sniffed and swiped it with the back of his hand. "No." His answer was barely audible.
"Was she seeing anyone?" Hank asked.
Orin's eyes closed slowly. His face went a shade paler. The air in the courtyard flared from grief to fear, and panic. Underlying it all, I detected a faint wisp of aura gathering. It pricked the hairs on the back of my neck. I glanced around and my gaze found Pendaran. His nostrils flared slightly. His arms were crossed over his chest, legs braced apart.
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