Chapter 31

I'm in the hallway,my back to Kain and my heart drumming with terror.

I just died in my dream. Does that mean I'm homicidally insane?

Examining myself for murderous desires, I don't find any—no more than usual, at least.

Whew. I must've merely lost my powers.

Touching Pom, I attempt to enter the dream world.

Nothing happens.

So that's that. No more dreamwalking until tomorrow. With a sinking feeling, I face Kain.

"Who's the killer?" he barks.

I brace myself. "I checked almost everyone. They're all clear."

His fangs pop out. "I didn't ask you who isn't the killer. I asked who is."

"I think it's Eduardo." I wish I sounded more certain.

"You figured out how to enter his dreams?"

I shake my head. "He woke up before I could."

Kain's eyebrows snap together. "Then…?"

"I have reason to believe he was having an affair with Tatum. He was jealous of Ryan and didn't like Leal for stealing some secret."

Kain's upper lip curls, exposing more of the fangs. "You could say that about most of the Council. How did you arrive at him?"

"By process of elimination."

"That's not much of a proof." But the fangs slowly retreat.

Emboldened, I suggest, "Why don't we go talk to him anyway? The least he can do is not fight me when I enter his dreams again."

"Fine." He grabs my shoulder and drags me to the werewolf's apartment.

At the doorway, he sniffs the air and rushes in, leaving the door ajar. In the bedroom, Eduardo is still sleeping—or looks like he's sleeping. Kain must've sniffed out something else, because he checks Eduardo's pulse.

"Dead." He spins around, his face a mask of fury. "Your alleged murderer was murdered."

I back away.

His eyes turn into mirrors. "Do not move."

The glamour roots me in place, despite every instinct screaming for me to run.

Kain rips open his own wrist and forces blood into Eduardo's mouth. Just as with Albina, nothing happens, apart from my mouth watering in a disturbing way.

Kain curses and flashes out of the room, leaving me alone with the corpse.

I still can't move. My nose starts to itch and I can't even scratch it, which feels like a creative form of torture.

Soon, Kain comes back with Isis. As before, she shoots the victim with her power, but he doesn't stir. They bustle out, paying no attention to me.

A while passes.

My legs cramp, and the itch on my nose gives birth to a daughter itch under my left boob. On some level, I'm grateful for the discomfort, because it keeps my mind off the fact that I'm standing next to a dead guy. And the fact that I'm going to be dead myself soon for so spectacularly failing at my job.

Kain comes back with a new group of people. Gertrude is with him, and the siren as well, plus a person I've never seen: a pale, ginger-haired dude with glasses so thick they make his eyes look tiny. He's carrying a suitcase.

"Roger," Kain says to the new guy. "Tell us why he died."

Roger hovers over Eduardo's body with a magnifying glass. Zooming in on the crook of his elbow, he says, "There's a puncture wound. Strange. I didn't think he was a drug user."

"I don't think he was," Gertrude says.

"He used steroids to get even bigger than he already was," Kain says disapprovingly. "Maybe that went wrong?"

Roger shrugs and sets about systematically searching the room. Kneeling to peer under the bed, he grunts approvingly and stands, clutching a syringe. When he holds it up to the light, there are a few ounces of liquid inside.

"Let's have a look-see." He opens his suitcase and takes out some high-tech gizmo that looks as though it came from Gomorrah. Placing a droplet of the liquid into the instrument, he waits.

Beep.

He pushes his glasses farther up his nose and squints at a tiny screen on the side of the device. "Interesting. I know this formula. I made this substance myself for Leal, your dearly departed dreamwalker. He was using it to try to put his birds into REM sleep for a few hours, at which point they would die. I'd been trying to improve the formula before he stopped needing it anymore. You know, on account of being dead."

Right. Leal's notes did mention someone named Roger working on the sleep drug—the one I couldn't locate in his lab. And now I know why: because the killer took it and used it for one of the murders.

No wonder Eduardo had been in REM sleep and wouldn't wake up.

Gertrude points at me accusingly. "It was her. She murdered poor Eduardo."

If the glamour weren't stopping me from speaking, I'd ask her why I would want to kill the werewolf—especially since he was my only suspect.

As if she heard my question, she continues. "I bet she found this drug in Leal's lab and used it on Eduardo because she had trouble entering his dreams without it."

I know I didn't do it, but I guess it's vaguely feasible. Keeping him in REM sleep for so long would give me the most opportunity to dreamwalk in him. But why would I be so dumb as to give a lethal drug to a member of the Council?

"It doesn't matter if she did it." Kain's fangs are so prominent his speech slurs. "Besides, she couldn't have killed the others."

Gertrude puts her hands on her hips. "Still, if she—"

"What do you want?" Kain barks. "If she killed Eduardo, she'd be executed—but we're going to execute her anyway, for allowing another murder. Do you want to kill her twice?"

Gertrude scowls. "I just don't want her to weasel out of her rightful punishment like she did before."

"Oh, she won't," Kain says coldly. He points his finger millimeters from my itching nose. "She's done."