“This isn’t a social call,” I said.
“Too bad,” she purred.
“I told you already today, that’s not happening anymore,” I said.
She walked through the open floorplan to the couch. The whole apartment felt cold and high maintenance. It was a perfect representation of Cain herself. Large windows spanned the wall and a massive open space was dotted with furniture to differentiate the spaces. A kitchen island with pendant lights blocked off the massive kitchen. Nearby there was a long dining table that I was pretty sure had never been used.
The only space I was intimately familiar with was the leather couch that faced a glass coffee table and massive television. Another item I was sure she never used. I often wondered if the television had been left by the previous owners.
Cain folded herself onto the couch, tucking her feet under her as if she was going to get comfortable for the next few hours. She picked up a tablet and set it in her lap.
I walked over and sat next to her. “Where’s this video from?”
“Three hours ago, jewelry store on High Street,” she said. “And yes, we tried to catch her but she evaded us. I was hoping to have better news for you than just a video.”
I frowned. “Three hours ago and you’re telling me now?”
“Just watch.” She pushed play.
A black and white video of the interior of a jewelry store appeared on the screen. Glass cabinets covered in countertops filled the space. From the view of the camera, I could see the bars covering the windows and glass door.
Suddenly, a hooded figure appeared in front of the door. After a moment’s hesitation, the person lifted their hands and flames roared to life. They were white in the camera’s monochrome, but based on how they incinerated the bars, I was willing to bet it was hellfire.
The flames faded and the figure kicked in the door. Glass shattered to the ground and I watched with rapt attention as the person stepped over the glass.
As soon as they entered the shop, they turned as if looking for something. They were staring right at the camera. With a quick movement, the figure removed the hood and my heart leapt into my throat.
The fair hair and delicate features of my sister were staring back at me. Her eyes reflected like a cat’s as she stared down the camera for several heartbeats.
She smiled and winked before walking to the counters and kicking in the glass. It was her.
I had no doubt the female in the camera was Clara. How was this possible? And why was she cramming jewelry into a bag? She was a princess. Her bedroom at home had more jewels than this store. She didn’t need any of this. Something happened to her. This wasn’t her doing.
As she walked back to the door, she paused, then turned toward the camera one more time. She blew a kiss before turning and walking out of the store.
I held my breath, staring at the screen long after Cain had turned it off.
“The only reason the video was sent to us was because of the fire,” Cain said. “For all we know, she’s been doing this a while.”
I looked up from the screen and searched Cain’s expression. I was hoping it was some ploy. That none of it was real. But then again, if it was, it meant that all this time, Clara had been alive.
“How do you want us to proceed?” Cain asked. “Because of our history, I’m leaving the call to you. We can put out a mark on her or we can brush this under the rug.”
“No, no mark,” I said. “I don’t want some bounty hunter to take things too far.”
“She has diplomatic immunity,” Cain said. “We’ll keep it quiet as long as she doesn’t escalate.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I do need to tell Marcella,” she said.
My brow furrowed. “You haven’t yet?” That was a surprise. Cain never kept things from the queen. She knew being blood wasn’t enough to maintain Marcella’s favor long term.
“Fine,” I said. “But no hunters.”
Cain nodded then set her hand on my shoulder. “You okay?” Her hand slid down my arm before settling on my thigh. “Anything I can do for you?” There was a touch of seduction in her voice.
I stood, letting her hand fall away from me. “No, I have to get to work on this.”