Chapter 16

My breathing speeds up.

Am I a victim of my own success? The first person I formally question turns out to be the culprit?

It could be. Kit could've turned into Leal, the dreamwalker, to get close enough to push Ryan, the elf, off the cliff. She could've turned into a bird, pecked Leal to death, and opened the cages to blame it on the doves. And she's just proven that she could've turned into an orc to rip Gemma, the animal controller, in half. The only part I'm not clear about is how she could've shot Tatum, the succubus, with an arrow from so far away—but perhaps she'd turned into an elf and got their perfect marksmanship?

But if Kit is the killer, why did she root for me at the trial? Reverse psychology, maybe?

One thing's for sure: If she kills me now, it will prove I'm right.

I back away. As much as I love to be right, this is too high a price. Maybe I can still run? She's blocking the door, but—

Instead of lunging forward and ripping me to shreds, Kit transforms back into her tiny round-cheeked self. "I only get the physical qualities of whatever I turn into, not the powers."

Does this mean she isn't going to kill me? That's good. Now if only my racing heart would chillax.

"Is elven marksmanship a power?" I ask warily. "Or is that like orc strength, something you develop by having the right body?"

"That's a great question." She turns herself into a female elf. "Do you have a bow and arrow?"

I pantomime patting my pockets. "Let me just pull out the bow and arrow I carry on me at all times. It's right next to my sword and ax."

"Don't be mean." Elf Kit walks past me and sits on a chair, seductively crossing her legs. "As flattered as I am to be a suspect, why would I want to kill those four? Especially Tatum."

I take a seat across from her. "Why especially Tatum?"

"She was the best lover I'd ever had," Kit says wistfully and turns into Tatum, but without the signature succubus scent.

"Kit's a sex addict," Felix chimes in. "No surprise there."

I know that; it's the reason she was in rehab when we met. How does Felix know, though?

Hmm, maybe I don't want to know the details.

Kit shifts back into herself, and her expression turns unusually fierce. "Killing Tatum was an atrocity akin to destroying an irreplaceable work of art. When I find out who did it, I won't just kill them—I'll turn into a drekavac to do it."

I suppress an instinctive shudder. Drekavacs are horrifying creatures that are said to kill victims through unspeakable pain. They're even scarier than pucks.

"I don't think she's bluffing," Felix whispers. "She's killed someone that way before. Someone who deserved it, but still."

So Kit can torture-kill if she feels like it. She's looking more innocent by the second. Not.

"Can you please tell me where you were and what you were doing at the time of the murders?" I ask in as steady of a voice as I can manage. "Kain said Tatum died six days ago, at—"

"I know when every one of the victims died." Kit's face darkens further. "We all do. When Tatum died, I was having sex."

I blink.

"Not with Tatum, obviously." She turns into a blond bombshell. "I got embroiled with Lola two weeks ago and only wrenched myself away from her the other day."

"Lola's a nymph who's an enabler for her," Felix whispers.

I debate muting him again; he keeps telling me things I already know.

Refocusing on Kit, I ask, "What were you doing when the elf—"

"Lola. In every case." She flashes back to her normal self. "As you well know, when Lola and I get together, things can spiral a bit out of control."

A bit out of control? Sure, we'll call it that. I saw some of Kit's dreams featuring Lola when she was in rehab. To me, it seemed like Kit wasn't the one with the addiction—Lola was. That, or being insatiable is part of Lola's nature. The word nymph isthe root of nymphomaniac, after all.

"Can you give me some details?" I ask as Felix uncomfortably clears his throat. "Was there anything memorable about those lovemaking sessions? What did the room look like?"

When Kit smiles at me in an overly friendly way, I also clear my throat, adding, "It's for dreamwalking."

She tells me about the rooms they used; then, with relish, she details the positions she and Lola got into, which toys went into which orifices, how many orgasms each of them had, and how often she changed shape into something or someone Lola felt like having sex with—as well as how many phalluses each of those forms had. Though Felix usually only faints at the sight of blood, he's so deathly silent in my earpiece that I wonder if Kit's details have knocked him clean out.

Pulling out my phone, I make a few notes to avoid forgetting anything, as unlikely as that seems. "I'll have to check all this in your dreams," I tell Kit when I'm done. "But if you were with Lola the way you say, you're not guilty."

"Great." She stands up. "Now who do you want to interview next?"

"Who else is strong enough?"

She turns into Kain, hooked nose and all. "An old vampire?"

"You suspect him?" I glance furtively at the door.

She turns back into herself. "I'm just telling you who's strong."

"But still, would Kain be working so hard to solve this case if he's the culprit?"

"Cute." She turns into me—a well-rested version, without bags under my eyes. "You're assuming that hiring you is the same as ‘working hard to solve this case.'"

I narrow my eyes at her.

"Don't be mad." She turns back into her usual self. "You're an amazing therapist, don't get me wrong, and you can surely steal secrets when you try. But since when are you a detective?"

Up yours, lady. "You yourself called me a detective at the trial."

She shrugs. "I was trying to save your life. If Kain really wanted a detective, he could glamour a human one or find someone on—"

"But I can tell when people lie to me. I can go into dreams and compare stories with memories."

"There are more direct ways to figure out if someone is lying," Kit says. "I'd say hiring you isn't that."

She's probably talking about the man I playfully call Bowser, a member of the Council who's currently on vacation. He simply knows, without a doubt, if someone is telling him the truth. If he were here, the case would be as simple as having him ask everyone, "Was it you?"

I wonder if that's why the killer chose to strike now, with Bowser away indefinitely. It's his or her only chance to get away with it.

"Let's see if Kain lets me dreamwalk in him," I say. "As a vampire, he doesn't need to sleep, so it would have to be voluntary."

"Good thinking." Kit turns into a giant, albeit a small one, and says in a voice deep enough to sing death metal, "Another strong person is obviously Colton."

"Who totally looks like the giants from the Skyrim game," Felix says conspiratorially.

"Who else?" I ask.

"There's Eduardo." Kit turns into a shaggy-haired man not much smaller than the giant, who then morphs into a huge wolf.

"I think Eduardo looks like Donkey Kong," Felix chimes in. "But never mention this to him, or I'm dead."

Sure, I was totally about to walk up to a werewolf and tell him he looks like a video game gorilla. I'm that suicidal. "Okay, who else?"

Kit transforms back into herself. "Does it have to be physical strength?"

"What do you mean?"

She turns into a striking black-haired woman with thick dark eyebrows, a small hoop in her right nostril, and silver studs in the upper and lower lips. "Nina isn't physically strong, per se," she says in a melodic voice that I assume belongs to Nina. "But her telekinesis is so strong she could use that to rip someone in half."

Oh, a telekinetic too. Fun. "I'd like to speak to her as well. Who else could rip someone apart?"

"No one I can think of," Kit says.

I stand up. "Then let's start with Kain, Colton, Eduardo, and Nina."

"Sure." Kit assumes her big-eyed, overly cute anime guise and dashes for the door.

I follow her through a couple of corridors. When we reach a massive door, her phone rings.

She pulls it out. "Hello?" She listens for a few seconds, but I can't hear the other side. "Sure, I'll get the usual. If they have sashimi-grade salmon, five pounds."

"Someone's hungry," Felix mutters. "Or, like me, has a cat with exquisite taste."

Kit listens for another second. "Yep, she's with me." She covers the phone. "Kain sent Firth shopping. Do you need anything?"

I ask for a case of bananas, six gallons of distilled water, a dozen bottles of hand sanitizer, and—just to mess with Filth—every feminine hygiene product I can think of, plus laxatives and adult diapers.

Kit doesn't blink an eye as she repeats my list to Filth. Sadly, I can't hear if he complains.

I sneak out my phone and text Felix:

See if you can hack into the store camera to record Firth buying all that stuff. Bonus points if the adult diapers don't scan, so the clerk has to look up the price manually.

He chokes with laughter. "I'll try."

Kit hangs up. "I think I know why you requested everything except the bananas." She turns into a monkey and scratches her head with her foot before transforming back into herself.

Felix groans. "I can't believe she just walked into that lecture. I'm going to put you on mute."

"If you must know," I tell Kit, "it's one of the very few things I feel safe eating on this world. You can carefully peel bananas without touching the inside. Even if the outside is crawling with salmonella, you can be safe."

Kit's eyes widen. "Really?"

I'm unable to resist the opening. "The food industry here on Earth is an abomination. Did you know there's human DNA in hotdogs? Or that the United States FDA allows maggots, rodent hair, cigarette butts, and mold in food? Did you realize that milk is allowed to have pus and blood in it, or that every meat you can think of has fecal—"

"Stop, please." Kit makes her ears disappear and reappear. "I don't want to end up eating bananas for the rest of my life."

"Sorry. Do you want to know what the sanitizer's for?"

She rolls her eyes. "That's pretty clear. I assume the other stuff is a prank on Firth?"

"That obvious?"

She assumes Filth's weaselly visage. "You know how many jokes feature a vampire and a tampon?"

I grin. "You should tell me some. But only after I solve this case."

"Right." She becomes herself and knocks on the huge wooden door in front of us.

The giant—Colton—opens up. Unsurprisingly, he looks just like Kit's impersonation of him, except he's wearing an apron.

"I have a brisket in the oven," he booms. "Is this going to take long?"

Felix snorts. "Cue the banana rant."

I surreptitiously flick the earbud to hopefully deafen Felix. "Not long. But we can do this later."

"No, come in." The giant opens the door wider.

I step in but stay vigilant about touching anything that he could've contaminated during food prep. The aroma of fried animal flesh is unmistakable.

"Sit," he urges as we enter a surprisingly modern kitchen—well, modern for Earth. Given the medieval ambiance of the castle, I was half expecting to see some unfortunate pig's head on a spittle over a fire. Instead, there are white quartz countertops, stainless steel appliances, and a sleek table with backless chairs that appear to be sized for a giant. And, I guess, a brisket in the oven.

I clutch the sanitizer in my pocket for comfort. "I'll stand, thanks."

"Suit yourself." He plunks down in one of the chairs, making it creak under his weight. "What did you want to know?"

"It all boils down to one question," I say, eager to escape the unsanitary environment as quickly as possible. "What were you doing at the time Gemma was ripped apart?"

He frowns deeply. "You think I'd—"

"She has to ask everyone," Kit says. "Even me."

He lets out a resigned sigh. "I was herding the goats."

I shift my gaze from him to Kit, who turns into one of the puckish creatures and bleats.

Colton gives her a chiding look. "Goats keep the shrubs around the mountain at bay, give the monks a source of milk and cheese, and provide everyone with occasional mutton."

"Milk, cheese, mutton—another chance for the banana rant," Felix murmurs.

If I deigned to acknowledge his existence, I'd tell him that free-roaming goat products feel way safer to me than germ-infested industrial farm food, at least as far as Salmonella and E. coli go.

"What I really need are some details," I tell Colton. "Like what the sky was like or in what formation the goats stood—anything that made that afternoon memorable."

"Sure." He tells me that the day was foggy, and that a bunch of mushrooms had sprouted on the nearby hill. As he keeps going, I take notes on my phone.

"Thank you," I say when he's done. "That's all we needed."

"You sure you don't want to taste—"

"We shouldn't keep Nina waiting. Maybe some other time."

Kit looks at the oven longingly. I carefully elbow her. She turns into a monkey—no doubt a dig at my banana eating—and scampers out of the giant's lair with me literally on her tail. She leads me through more corridors to a door as big as the one that led to Colton's abode. Becoming herself again, she presses the doorbell.

A bloodcurdling wolf howl emanates from behind the door.