“Explain,” he hisses.
“Kit. I verified her alibi, and it checks out.”
“I see.” His fangs retreat. “I spoke to Lola the day after the murder, but it’s good to confirm Kit’s story. That nymph would say anything to protect her insatiable girlfriend.”
He knew? Then again, Kit has never been shy about her adventures. Oh, well. I grab a water bottle and pocket my hand sanitizer. “I’m ready to connect with others and check alibis.”
“Let’s go to my quarters.”
His quarters again? Why?
Given the earlier threat of glamour, I don’t ask.
When we reach our destination, he leads me toward his dungeon/bedroom—which makes all my earlier concerns resurface.
Just before entering the dreaded room, he wheels around, so quickly I nearly smash into him.
“This is going to stay between us,” he says harshly. “Understood?”
Chapter Nineteen
I stare at him, my heart rate doubling.
“It’s a delicate situation,” he continues. “The woman hates dreamwalkers with a passion.”
I blink at him, even more confused.
“Just go inside,” he snaps. “Go, or I’ll make you.”
With Pom turning pitch black on my wrist, I enter the cursed room and freeze, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
It’s Gertrude.
She’s lying on Kain’s bed, staring emptily at the ceiling.
“She’s my primary suspect,” Kain says as though she’s not there. “She envied Tatum and Ryan’s marriage—don’t ask me why—and she fiercely and openly despised Gemma. You already know how she feels about dreamwalkers.”
“But no one died by rotting to death,” I say.
“Of course not. She’s not stupid enough to kill that way—she’d be the only suspect.”
I peer at her unmoving body. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I had to glamour her,” Kain says. “She has a huge problem sleeping in front of others, to put it mildly.”
“She’s got good reason.” I step to the side and back, putting him between me and Gertrude. “Between her REM Sleep Disorder and the gangrene-giving, it would be dangerous for any witnesses.”
“And yet I’ll make her sleep, and you’ll check to make sure she’s not behind the murders.” He turns to the empty-eyed woman and instructs in a honey-laced voice, “Gertrude, cuff your right ankle to the right bottom corner of the bed.”
She sits up and does as ordered. Another command, and she locks her left ankle and right hand, leaving herself mostly spread-eagled. I expect Kain to do something about her left hand, but he doesn’t.
“With that arm free, she can still grab one of us and make whatever she touches rot,” I tell him. “You’ve got to lock it up.”
“Do you want to lock it up?” he asks with a sneer. “I’m not getting anywhere near her skin.”
So vampires can rot. What a gross discovery.
I look Gertrude over. With her short skirt and sleeveless top, she’s showing way too much skin to approach without a hazmat suit.
“Gertrude, sleep,” Kain croons.
She closes her eyes right away, her breathing evening out.
Wow, I’d give a lot for that particular power.
“Now do your thing,” Kain orders.
I gingerly step closer to observe her eyelids.
“What’s the holdup?” he asks.
I turn back toward him. “I have to wait until she’s in REM sleep.”
“Isn’t REM sleep when that free arm becomes a problem?”
I sigh. “If I go in now, I’ll have to deal with the subdream, which carries its own danger.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I could die in the dream world.”
The eyebrow goes almost comically high.
“If I die there, I’ll become homicidally insane.”
The eyebrow comes back down and meets its neighbor in a frown. “Is that how things work for all dreamwalkers?”
“As far as I know.”
Kain’s gaze sharpens. “Could that have happened to Leal? As in, he died during dreamwalking and became—”
“Didn’t Gemma get killed after he was already dead? Besides, are you suggesting he killed himself using those birds?”
“We do have to consider the possibility that there might’ve been more than one killer,” he says with less enthusiasm.
“If it was Leal, the murders would’ve been a lot more brutal,” I say. “All of you would’ve known he’d gone crazy. He’d have acted like a puck.”
“I see,” Kain says. “Still, I say it’s a good thing you’ve been focusing most of your attention on Gemma’s murder.”
“Right.” I go back to watching Gertrude’s eyelids.
“So what are you waiting for?”
“I just told you. The subdream—”
“Go in,” he snaps. “And don’t die. Waiting is riskier, trust me.”
I back away from the bed as his eyes turn to mirrors. “I’ll do it—”
His eyes fade to normal.
“—but there’re a few more problems. If I survive the subdream section, my power will force Gertrude to snap into REM sleep. That means her loose hand will become an issue.”
“I’ll pull you away from her as soon as I see signs of REM sleep,” he says. “You can then come back into her dreams from a distance, as I know you can do.”
He knows? I was trying to keep that under wraps.
“That might work,” I say grudgingly. “But there’s another, bigger problem. For me to use my power, I have to touch her—and if I touch her, I’ll lose my finger.” I glance warily at Gertrude’s exposed skin.