“I didn’t kill anyone.”
“It doesn’t even matter if you did. You’re the one who sent out the invites. You’re the one who planned this auction. If it wasn’t for you, none of us would even be here.”
“Thierry needed to pay for what he did.”
“Read my lips, Sebastien. Somebody might have shoved you into that tomb, but it wasn’t him.” I took a step closer to him, all fired up now. “Who found you, anyway? Who knew where you were? And why did it take them so long? To me, that sounds kind of fishy.”
He shook his head. “What you’re suggesting is impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “Really. So why do you constantly and incessantly protect Thierry when it’s possible he could be guilty?”
Talking to Sebastien was like talking to a toddler having a very passive-aggressive temper tantrum. “I don’t have the time or energy right now to drill down into that thick skull of yours. Are you so blind that you can’t even see something when it’s staring right at you?”
“Roo-raooo?” Melanie commented.
Sebastien blinked. “Question. Why is Melanie in wolf form right now?”
“She’s helping me search the mansion for dead bodies. Unfortunately, I don’t think she can smell a ghost. But . . . he’s not a ghost. I know he’s not . . .” I looked up at him. “Whoa. What did I just say about something staring right at you and you can’t see it?”
“I forget. Something about my thick skull.”
I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Skull. Staring at me. Earlier tonight and then poof, he disappeared.”
“And—?”
“But what if he didn’t really disappear?”
“Huh?”
I didn’t wait for him to figure out what I was saying. My feet started moving, out of the room, down the hall, down the stairs. Melanie and Sebastien were both following me, but I didn’t pay them any attention.
If I was right about this . . .
But how could I possibly be right? How could the head have been in the freezer all this time and nobody had seen it?
Only one reason that made sense and, well, it made zero sense.
Or maybe it made all the sense that it needed to!
“Where are you going?” Sebastien called after me.
“You don’t have to come with me,” I told him. “You can go back to alternately feeling sorry for yourself and rubbing your hands together with glee about your little blood spell. Just who cast that blood spell, anyway? Was she a reliable witch? Did she charge you a lot of money?”
His jaw tensed as he followed Melanie down the stairs. “No money at all. And yes—I trust her. I trust her exactly like you trust Thierry.”
“Vampires trusting witches,” I mumbled. “Yeah, that usually works out well.”
I went directly toward the kitchen. It seemed like a small eternity since I’d been here. Twice tonight I’d entered this stainless-steel oasis. It was dark and empty and cavernous with the lights off and no one here. I moved toward the freezer, standing before it for a couple of moments and attempting to center myself.
“If this works, this will prove one very important thing,” I said under my breath.
“What will it prove?” Sebastien asked.
I glanced over my shoulder to see that Sebastien and Melanie were still with me. He currently looked deeply mystified by everything I did.
“If you’re the bad guy,” I told him.
His expression tensed. “Sarah, you don’t understand . . .”
“Oh, I understand perfectly. You’ve done some shady things tonight because you’re in pain. But you’re not evil—not really.”
“Rur-aooo,” Melanie added.
“See? Melanie doesn’t think so, either.” I inhaled slowly and tried to summon whatever courage I had left tonight. “Now, let’s confirm it one way or the other, shall we?”
I pulled open the freezer and peered inside.
Sebastien gasped.
Melanie let out a throaty woof.
It was very nice to be right about something tonight. Even if it was . . . this.
“I’m so cold,” the head said, shivering. “So very, very cold.”
“Hey . . . you,” I managed. “You’ve been in there the whole time, haven’t you?”
“It was dark, so I had no idea where I was. I thought I was in Hell.”
“No, but pretty close, I think.”
I grimaced as I reached in and . . . oh, gross.
He was officially not an incorporeal ghost. No, he was definitely a solid head. A very cold, solid head covered in ice crystals.
I pulled the head out of the freezer, holding it gingerly between my hands.
On the plus side, this gave me a whole lot more confidence that I’d been correct about him.
He looked up at me and smiled, despite his chattering teeth. “Thank you! You are a goddess!”
Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “And you are the missing djinn. Hi, there. Nice to finally meet you.”
“The missing what?” he asked, frowning, which broke some ice particles off his forehead.
Right. He had some faulty memories. Or no memory, as the case might be.
“Djinn,” I repeated.
“That,” Sebastien said, his voice strained, “is definitely a severed head that talks.”
“It is,” I agreed. “And this is my proof that you didn’t kill him.”
He gave me a very confused look. “How is this proof?”
I’d been working on the hows and whats and whys for a while now, ever since the head disappeared—and yet whenever I heard his voice, he always mentioned how cold and dark it was. “Whoever killed him didn’t do a good job, since he’s still, well, existing and thinking and talking. If the murderer knew that, they’d want to finish him off. How crazy is it to think he has some sort of survival instinct that kicks in like a chameleon hiding from its enemies. Does that make sense?”
“Magical self-preservation.”
“Exactly.”
“And you’re saying he’s the djinn from the amulet.” He gave the befuddled-looking head a squeamish once-over. “So where’s the rest of him?”
“Yes,” the head said. “Where’s the rest of me?”
“Good question.” I scanned the kitchen.
Melanie had found Anna’s body, but she hadn’t happened on the djinn’s yet. There had to be a logical reason for that. And I think I’d finally figured out what it was.
I slowly moved toward a large chest freezer in the far corner. Melanie kept pace with me, her claws scrabbling over the smooth tile. I nodded at Sebastien. “My hands are full. Do you mind?”
Wincing, he slowly opened the freezer door, lifting it up like the lid of a coffin.
I peered in. Sebastien peered in. Melanie jumped up and put her front paws on the edge and peered in.
Out of the dark, misty interior a frosty hand reached up and grabbed hold of the front of my dress.
Chapter 21
I swear, I nearly dropped the head in my frantic rush to pull away from the hand.
“A little help?” I managed.
Sebastien reached in and batted at the hand until I got loose.
Melanie ran around in circles, then stopped and shifted back to human form in five seconds flat.
Sebastien’s eyes bugged at the unexpectedly naked woman. He pulled off his suit jacket off and tossed it in her direction.
I had mostly recovered from getting grabbed, and I peered down into the deep freezer again.
“You found me!” the head exclaimed happily. “Hooray!”
“I guess I couldn’t smell a frozen body,” Melanie said, cringing. “Sorry about that.”
“You
never checked this freezer?” I asked.
“No. All the food and drinks for the party were kept over there.” She nodded toward the opposite side of the huge kitchen. “And Thomas told me not to touch anything else.”
I looked down at the body that reached up helplessly toward me. “Did Thomas do this to you?”
“Are you asking me?” the head asked. “Because, in case you forgot, I’m having some memory issues at the moment. I wish I knew.”
That made two of us.
Sebastien drew closer again, his attention going between the head and the body, his expression stunned. “A djinn who wishes for things. Ironic?”
The head frowned. “Why do you keep calling me a djinn?”
I eyed the kitchen suspiciously. We couldn’t stay there. Someone might be watching us. “Sebastien, can you and Melanie get the body out of there?”
“You should really put some clothes on,” he suggested sternly to her.
“I will in a minute.” Melanie looked down at her borrowed jacket that covered everything it had to. “Is it that difficult to look at me?”
Sebastien cleared his throat. “Trust me, difficult is not the problem I’m having.”
Despite any references to past loves, it was obvious to me that he was attracted to the pretty blond werewolf. If this was another time and place, I might try to act as matchmaker. “Headless body now, naked body later. Okay?”
With no further protests, Melanie and Sebastien heaved the body out of the freezer and placed it on the floor.
It gestured frantically at its empty neck . . . well, as frantically as a mostly frozen body could.
I had a flashback to the performance of Sleepy Hollow that my drama group put on back in high school. “I think it’s trying to tell us something. Any thoughts, head?”
“This is a guess,” the head replied, “but maybe put me into place?”
Why was I asking somebody who didn’t have any memories? “And you think you’ll snap back on like a Lego?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Melanie said with a shrug. “Tonight, anyway.”
“Good point.” Carefully holding the head between my hands, I placed it atop the neck.
“Wait,” Sebastien said. “How do we know this isn’t a bad idea? Can we trust a severed head?”
“A bad idea is better than no idea,” Melanie said pointedly.
He eyed her. “Are you sure about that?”
The body’s hands came up and held the head in place, swiveling it until I heard . . .
Yes, that was definitely a click.
So, pretty much exactly like a Lego.
A red line still circled his throat, clearly showing where the injury had been. I took a shaky step backward, waiting for him to show some sign that Sebastien was right about it being the wrong move to help him.
“That kind of stings.” He winced, then his eyes widened. “Somebody cut off my head!”
“I’d say that’s a safe assessment.” I watched him warily, but saw nothing suspicious yet. “Can you stand up?”
“I . . . I’m not sure. I’ll try.”
Sebastien gave him a hand and he slowly and shakily got to his feet.
Finally, I took a good look at him—all of him. He was tall and he wore loose, emerald green pants. He was shirtless, but his arms and chest were covered in tattoos, black winding symbols and patterns. Some were faded to gray, some were dark black.
“Somebody cut off my head!” he said again, gingerly holding that head between his hands. “Who would do that to me?”
Good question. I scanned the kitchen again nervously, but less worried he was an immediate threat to the three of us. “Can you walk around without that thing falling off?”
“I think so.” Slowly, he removed his hands and tested his head, craning it to the right, then the left. He turned grateful eyes to me. “Thank you, Sarah. You did exactly as I asked of you.”
A warm feeling took hold of me, chasing my misgivings away. “Sorry it took me so long.”
“At least it’s before dawn. Which means . . .” He frowned. “I’m not sure what it means, but it feels important.”
I patted his arm, worried that he might be in one piece, but his mind was still messed up. “You’re still a little broken, aren’t you, Jack?”
“Is my name Jack?”
“If I’m right and you’re the missing djinn, that means you’re from the Jacquerra Amulet.” I shrugged. “I figure it’s as good a name as any.”
“Jack.” He nodded. “I like it. Maybe it is my name. But I have absolutely no idea who I am or how I got here.”
“We’re running out of time,” Melanie said, her voice tense. “We have the djinn, but now we need to find the amulet.”
I took Jack’s hand in mine. “Maybe you can help us now.”
“I can try.”
Was it fair to get an amnesiac djinn to help us find his personal prison we had to put him back into?
Trapped. For centuries.
Seemed to be the theme of the evening.
“If you didn’t hide it”—I looked at Sebastien—“it must have been Thomas.”
He nodded. “It’s possible.”
So what Thomas said had to have been a clue.
“Seven oh five. Attack.” I said these words over and over as we left the kitchen, my brain aching. Was it the ramblings of someone already half-dead? Or was it a clue that would help us from someone who knew more than he’d let on? “Attack. A tick . . .”
“Attic,” Sebastien said.
I stopped walking and turned to stare at him. “What did you say?”
“Attic? Is that what you’re saying?”
Seven oh five . . . attic.
Could it be? Or was it another false lead?
Only one way to know for sure.
I gave Sebastien a big smile. “That’s where we’re going. The attic.”
First we quickly stopped at the basement entrance and retrieved Melanie’s clothes so she could get dressed in more than a man’s suit jacket. Once she changed, we went up to the third floor and found a trapdoor on the ceiling that Sebastien yanked down to reveal a rickety set of stairs.
“Where’s everybody else?” Melanie asked.
“Not sure,” I said. “This is a big mansion. They could be anywhere.”
Or they could have mistakenly strolled into another magically created world and be fighting flowery-speaking vampire slayers this very moment.
Or they could be dead at the bottom of the pool just like Anna Dark.
A cold chill sped down my spine.
No way. If Thierry had found Veronique and Marcellus, I had total faith that the three of them would help one another stay alive.
The murderer was somewhere in the mansion. And she was trapped, just like we were.
If I was right about who to blame, she was very dangerous. Very deceptive. And currently feeling more desperate by the minute as we edged closer to dawn.
We took the stairs as quickly as we could and found ourselves in a large attic with a low ceiling. Sebastien found a few bare lightbulbs hanging from that ceiling and he clicked them on one by one to light the area, casting spooky shadows all around.
“So what now?” Sebastien asked.
Good question. I’d hoped a spotlight would immediately shine on exactly what we were looking for, but I knew nothing was that simple. Never had been, never would be.
I looked at Jack. “Any ideas?”
He gave me a blank stare. “About what?”
I sighed. He wasn’t going to be very much help. “About where to find your amulet.”
“I have an amulet?”
Like I said, nothing was simple.
“What do you remember?” Melanie asked.
Jack absently stroked the r
ed line around his throat. “I remember being really cold. I remember being in the dark. I was trapped.”
“In the freezer or in the amulet?” Sebastien asked. “You are a genie.”
“I thought you said I was a djinn.”
“Same thing.”
Jack didn’t remember anything helpful right now; that much was crystal clear. Continuing to prod him would only result in more confusion. “What I don’t understand is why Thomas was trying to help if he was the one to hide it. And why did he die? Did somebody really stake him?”
“He looked very ill,” Melanie said. “Maybe somebody poisoned him.”
“Maybe. And maybe he was working with somebody. And if it wasn’t you, Sebastien . . .”
“It wasn’t,” he said, his expression tense. “He came with the mansion. He’s the butler here normally and he seemed like a big help to me tonight, but I don’t know what his game was.”
Sebastien might be scummy when it came to putting the revenge spell on Thierry, but I’d decided that he wasn’t a bad guy when it came to the amulet.
I scanned the cluttered area where it looked like old furniture from decades ago had gone to die.
“Seven oh five attic,” I said again. “We have the attic part down. But what’s with the numbers?”
“Could it be a labeling system?” Melanie suggested. “Maybe the seven hundred and fifth box of junk?”
I hoped not, since we didn’t have the time to look through that many boxes. Still, it was worth a few minutes of looking. My magic intuition hadn’t kicked in. I hadn’t felt even a modest tingle yet.
I grabbed a nearby box. “Let’s start searching. And Jack, if you remember anything, anything at all, please speak up.”
“I remember that I’m eternally grateful for your assistance this evening, Sarah.” His voice hitched. “I was lost and now I’m found.”
Earlier, I’d assumed the djinn would be some sort of fire-and-brimstone demonlike creature, furious about being imprisoned in the amulet and ready to destroy anyone who wanted to put him back in it.