Nineteen.

Garrett followed Artemisia from FirstLevel Healer Heatheras office, at a loss for words. Head had no idea that Artemisiaas job was in jeopardy, that she wasnat as solid in her career as it seemed. That her whole life wasnat set . . . though he should have gotten a clue since she hadnat trusted him with information about the murder, shouldnat he have? Maybe.

Before he pulled the door shut, he heard Lark Holly say, aA moment of your time, Aunt.a Garrett frowned. If Holly was going to fight a battle on behalf of Artemisia, the womanas timing was off. Anything Lark Holly could say just now would make Heather more entrenched in her dislike of Artemisia. He hesitated but saw his HeartMate take a fast corner and he had to catch up.

With her face still smooth of expression and not meeting his eyes, Artemisia stopped in the hallway before a door. She opened it and held it for him to proceed. Irritation rumbled through him and he said what was on the top of his mind rather than what head planned. aI am sorry you are in the power of such a FirstFamily n.o.blewoman as FirstLevel Healer Heather.a Artemisiaas gaze flashed to his. aSheas . . . not her father or niece.a Artemisia stood even taller. aI have options in work . . .a A faint smile he didnat like curved her lips. aAnd options in my personal life.a She hesitated. aThis is not the time or place to speak, but it will do since I never intend to broach the subject again.a She wet her lips. aThank you for stating your position last night. Now I can move on with my life.a A shadow darkened the door and Garrett saw Captain of the Druida guards, Ilex Winterberry, face as impa.s.sive as Garrettas own, but eyes glinting with curiosity. Garrett had no doubt that the guardsman had heard Garrett and Artemisiaas exchange and filed it away in his memory in case it became pertinent to any case he was working or would work on in the future.

But the current case was murder. Garrett wanted to put his arm around Artemisia, indicate more than with body language that she was under his protection. She wouldnat allow that, and head forfeited the right, and that gnawed on him as much as guilt.

aYou wished to see us about the murdered man we found in Apollopa Park yesterday, Captain Winterberry?a Artemisia asked.

Winterberry frowned. But if head wanted to keep the whole mess more confidential, he shouldnat have come to the HealingHall, shouldnat have spoken with Heatheras a.s.sistant, and definitely shouldnat have blocked the way into the conference room. He stepped back.

Artemisia inclined her head to Garrett, as if he were of higher status than she and she had to be wary around him. Another thing he deserved but didnat like.

aYes, I have some questions for you, SecondLevel Healer,a Winterberry said. aGlad to have you here, too, Garrett.a The guard waited until the door was closed and Artemisia and Garrett sat. Winterberry pulled up his own chair across from theirs. He wasnat as solidly built as Garrett, nor as tall, and looked younger than his white hair indicated. Prematurely grayed, then, though he was significantly older than Garrett.

aMy first question is for you, SecondLevel Healer Mugwort.a aYes?a Artemisia asked.

aYou donat use your birth surname.a This time her smile was quick and bitter. aNo. Healers tend to be status conscious. Either extremely proud of their n.o.bility or flaunting their common origins and emphasizing their accomplishments in the field. As a woman born n.o.ble, then stripped of the t.i.tle, I am . . . looked at askance by all.a aI see,a Winterberry said.

Earlier than Garrett had, but then Garrett had been trying to ignore Artemisia when theyad met.

aThe guards didnat take your detailed statement yesterday?a Winterberry asked her.

aI was called here. I would have stayed had I been asked and had they informed FirstLevel Healer Heather or FirstFamily GrandLord TaHeather.a aBut you werenat forthcoming otherwise.a She lifted and dropped a shoulder.

Winterberry sighed. aIam not here to hurt you in any way.a aToo late for that,a she said and Garrett heard a hint of rancor there, too. He leaned toward her. Winterberry noticed but Artemisia didnat.

aMy apologies.a The guard sounded sincere. His voice lowered, gentled. aWould you please tell me in your own words of the discovery of the murdered man?a aYou still havenat determined who he is?a Artemisia asked, innate sympathy shadowing her expression.

aNo.a aThatas sad.a aYes, and why we need everyoneas help.a aAll right.a She didnat relax. In a calm, uninflected voice, she reported the discovery of the bodya"and didnat omit that shead recognized the scent of pylor, that shead guessed that the man had been hit on the head, then drugged into a stupor and his veins slit.

Winterberry didnat comment that shead failed to inform the guards of her observations.

aYou didnat notice anything else?a Winterberry asked.

aOnly what the others did.a Another shrug. aHis general age, weight, state of health, and I agreed with the guards in those particulars.a There was a small and awkward silence, an interrogation technique. Artemisia didnat hurry to fill it, merely sat with a serene expression as if her mind was somewhere else. Garrett began to realize how little he knew or had learned of her. Head felt her presence to the depth of his bones, in the depth of his sickness, had trusted her, but hadnat spent time getting to know her. But then, he hadnat been at his best.

Artemisia rose. aIf youall excuse me, I have patients I must attend to.a aOne moment.a Winterberry stood, too.

Garrett got to his feet.

aThis isnat the first time your Family has been linked to murder,a Winterberry commented.

A quiver went through Artemisia. Garrett stepped closer.

aNo,a she said. aThis isnat the first time.a aBut the link was previously false,a Winterberry said mildly.

Artemisia blinked, took a step back from him. aWhat?a aRather it was true in only one aspect. Strong evidence did connect you Mugworts to the Black Magic Cult murders,a Winterberry said.

aWhat?a She sounded stunned. Garrett took her arm to steady her and she didnat appear to notice.

aLong after the case was over, after your Family had disappeared, we guards eventually determined the evidence against you was planted by Modoc Eryngo, one of the Black Magic Cult conspirators.a A low buzzing started in Artemisiaas ears, a reaction to shock. She didnat want to ask aWhat?a again. aI didnat know that,a she said in a voice that sounded too thready.

aModoc Eryngo also anonymously informed the newssheets of the aproofa that your Family, and perhaps the cross-folk, were implicated in the murders. This was at the height of the scare, and the newssheetsa frenzy.a aOh.a After the mob took their house, when they were in hiding. Irreparable damage had already been done.

aModoc Eryngo,a Garrett said.

aWhat?a This time Winterberry asked the question.

aModoc Eryngo,a Garrett repeated slowly, patiently. aThe missing man.a Winterberryas mouth twisted, his eyes slitted. aYou mean the culprit who escaped me, who got away. None of us guards who worked that case were unaffected by it. All of us recall the bodies of the sacrificed teenagers and their nearly dead Fams. Weave all been haunted by that case.a Garrett said, aI studied the Black Magic Cult murders. Every detective worth his spit did. Modoc Eryngoas face was splashed all over the newssheets, sent by the guards over every scry in Druida, circulated in Gael City and the other towns when he was discovered to be a member of the Cult and after he ran. The man we found yesterday looks like an older version of Eryngoas holo.a aWhat!a Artemisia and Winterberry said at the same time.

Garrett nodded. Excitement ran to her from him. From his hand on her arm. She pulled away and he let his hand drop from her.

aIam sure of it. The murdered man is Modoc Eryngo.a aFligger,a Winterberry said, glanced at her. aI beg your pardon.a aA lot of people would like him dead,a Garrett said. To her horror, his gaze rested on her thoughtfully. Her stomach lurched. She took another couple of paces aside. He didnat reach for her again and she told herself that was good. She shouldnat be wanting his touch, as angry and hurt as she was.

aYes, there are now a lot of suspects,a Winterberry said with suppressed feeling. aAll the relatives of the people he murdered.a His gray brows lowered and he looked at Artemisia. aThe Mugworts were greatly affected by Modoc Eryngoas actions. They were ruined.a She caught her breath, lifted her hands. aNo. We had nothing to do with his death. We didnat even know he was here. How could we? We are a law-abiding Family, a judge and Healers and a priestess. We would never kill anyone. It is against our most basic nature.a She sucked in a breath. aIt is against the Ladyas and Lordas tenets, and cross-folk spiritual law, too.a Once again she felt betrayed, as she had in Heatheras office when she believed Garrett had been talking about the rumors of murder. She grabbed hard on her control, vanquished incipient fear. aI donat know what youare speaking of. I didnat recognize the man, didnat know head hurt my Family.a aBut you found him, didnat you?a Winterberry said. aAnd you might have led GentleSir Primross to the body to find him.a aNo.a She was firm.

Garrett watched them as if at a play, cynicism in his eyes. The man had a wide streak of that. She was better off without him. He angled his head. aAs you said, a lot of people would have a motive to kill Modoc Eryngo. Including you, Winterberry.a Winterberryas eyes flashed fury. Garrett sank a little into a fighteras balance, challenged, aCan you deny that youad want someone whoad tortured and attempted to kill your HeartMate dead? And also nearly killed your cuz?a aNo. I canat. And if youare right, the FirstFamilies Council needs to be informed of this immediately.a Without another word, Winterberry teleported away.

Garrett pivoted toward Artemisia. aAre you going to flounce away, too?a Her mind boggled at the thought of Winterberryas teleportation being called a flounce, but she only murmured, aI wonder to which FirstFamily he teleported to. Or perhaps the FirstFamilies Council is in session and he teleported there.a Garrett stared at her as she babbled, but replied, aDonat know about the Council. Probably aported to the Hollys. Heas a distant relative to them.a Artemisia headed toward the door. aAnd Iam not flouncing out. I have work.a She gave Garrett a steely smile. aIall need to see how my caseload has been revised.a With an inclination of her head, she continued, aIall let you know when the HealingHall has any word back from the starship Nuadaas Sword or Culpeperas labs.a He nodded, his expression searching. His gaze went to the corner of the conference room where a viz camera was. He opened his mouth, shut it, then said, aIall check in with you daily. And we can make a trip to Nuadaas Sword together. But I wish to speak with you privately.a Anger sizzled in her brain, frying thoughts. aI believe you wanted to ignore me. Why are you doing this?a aBecause Iam contrary?a he said. aBecause I want to apola"a She opened the door . . . saw a lot of Healers lingering in the hallway, heard the buzz of curious conversation. No, she would not talk to him about anything here in the HealingHall. She needed fresh air and open s.p.a.ce, so headed fast for the back door to the Healing Grove and yanked it open.

Garrett couldnat let Artemisia go. Not before head had a few more apologetic words with her. aOne moment,a he snagged her arm as she whisked through the door to the Healing Grove.

She stopped, her jaw flexed, and she stared down at his fingers around her elbow. He took his hand off her.

aYou said you didnat want to speak of what was between usa"a Pain flashed across her face. She glanced at him and away. aI donat.a Her shoulders straightened and she put her hands in her opposite sleeves, began to stroll with deceptive casualness down the path to the shade in the center of the grove. aI donat care for cruel people. You made yourself perfectly clear.a Her voice was clipped.

He winced. aWhat if I have something to say?a he asked.

aYou said quite enough last night,a she answered.

aToo much.a And he was too sharp now, too. aPlease, I wish to apologize.a That didnat relax her back, stance, or entire manner, which was stiffer than head seen before. She met his eyes, then her glance slid away. Lifting her chin, she turned her gaze to meet his squarely. Her round chin quivered, then she set it. aYou were cruel last night.a He winceda"thought of the hideous nightmares of sweat and sickness and bloodred and wet and rotting people. Still, no defense for what head done. He jerked a nod. aYouare right. Unnecessarily cruel. I apologize again.a With a tilted head she studied him. aProbably a bad night.a He grunted.

Her lips compressed and brows came down; she touched above her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s. aYou hurt me.a No use, he had to say it until she understood he was sincere. aI apologize for being cruel.a aBut you meant what you said,a she said quietly. aYou donat want me as a HeartMate.a He sc.r.a.ped the answer from his throat. aNo.a After a cough, he jerked his head up. aSo you get some free shots.a Her lower lip curled and she settled into her stance. aAll right, then. But since it was an emotional hurt, I get to inflict the same on you.a He shifted his shoulders; head rather have a few jabs in the gut. But she wouldnat want to injure her hands.

aYou love Dinni.a aYes.a The words came automatically. aI did. I donat knowa"a aAnd she was . . .a Easy answer, aMy childhood girlfriend and first lover.a aBut not your only.a That was a blow. He kept anger from his tone. aI was true to her while we were together.a Looking sad and determined, Artemisia said, aDinni had a son.a He would not remember his last sight of the baby. Better to let his mind fog with the grayness of old despair. aYes.a Artemisia said, aDo you realize that you always speak of Dinni as a girl, Garrett? But Dinni was a woman. One who married and had a child. And Iam not a girl, Garrett. Iam a woman, with a womanas heart and feelings and needs.a Needs. He couldnat catch his breath, dreading what was coming. Artemisia and her needs that he didnat want to think about.

aAnd since you canat provide what I needa"love and partnership and childrena"Iall find someone who can. So now we understand each other.a He watched her sweet backside as she walked away.

And without her, the day dimmed and he became aware of an awful ache and a terrible hollowness, and the idea that head made a hideous mistake.

Twenty.

Garrett teleported back to his office, hoping there would be cases to take his mind off this latest disaster, his emotions that were even more tangled this morning than the night before. Stuff he couldnat wrap his mind around.

He knew only that he had to figure out his life, and he had to keep Artemisia in it. At least she was still stuck with her liaison job with him.

When he got to his office, the first message in his scrycache was from the guards confirming the murdered man was Modoc Eryngo. The second was a notice from his bank that an incredible amount of gilt had been deposited into his account. Enough to make him thump down into his chair.

His creaky chair with the hard cushion.

That would go.

And cats were warbling demands outside his shut door. He had to feed his feral brigade, and soon.

Easier to deal with details, do minor things, than to acknowledge a deep truth. His life had changed, wrenched into a new shape. Completely and irrevocably.

Not just having the gilt to do whatever he wanted. That was so secondary to meeting his HeartMate, learning about her, and his revelation to Artemisia of their HeartMate bond.

And her words that had cut into revealing stuff that he didnat want to think about, either. Insights that would work on hima"awake and asleep.

The cat yowling was getting fierce, so he stopped the playback of his messages, rose stifflya"head need some workout time soon; a good bout of fighter training would sweat c.r.a.p out of hima"and went to the door.

As he opened it, Black-and-White trotted in and Sleek Black waited with the other five cats outside the door in the hallway. Garrett didnat ask how theyad gotten in . . . the building didnat have a Fam door so they all must have teleported. Better not to ask or know. Asking would mean head have to pay for the info, and, besides, Fams were not allowed in the building.

We have been very good. We have much information. And We need food, Black-and-White said.

aAll right, follow me. Iall check out the food trough.a Still, he glanced at the color of the next message on the flat scry panel and wasnat too surprised to see that it was from Laev TaHawthorn. Garrett raised his brows a little when he saw the call had come in late that morning. Must be about the murder.

He moved to the threshold and the line of cats opened for him. Black-and-White trotted after him.

In the back courtyard, he filled the trough with dry cat food, then sat on a greeniron bench that was bolted to the back wall. It was almost too hot, but he appreciated being outdoors. He stretched luxuriously, rotating his shoulders, extending his legs, even flexing his feet.

Alive and outside.

And rich.

The fact that he was financially free began to filter though his consciousness. Pure relief. His business was occasionally dangerous and head worried that head take a disabling wound that the Healers couldnat mend.

Now he could select the cases he wanted to work. More like, he could turn down those cases that didnat appeal.

When final belches signaled the cats were done with their food, Garrett sent them telepathically, I am most interested in what went on in Apollopa Park the night before last.

One of the younger female cats squeaked, aEeeee,a and bolted under the bench to shiver behind Garrettas legs. Mean and angry one walks at night. Hunting, hunting.

Garrettas heart thumped. Did you see this mean and angry one?

Not good. Felt a lot. Was stalking the man who was killed, heard the mean scary one went after racc.o.o.ns this morning.

Stalking? Garrett pounced on the word. Stalking implied that the murderer had known who Modoc Eryngo was, which confirmed the theory that the manas own murderous past had caught up with him.

Yes, stood in shadows, prowl after. She pressed against the backs of Garrettas calves.

Where did you first see the killer and the murdered man?

Late, late at old airship park. Bright lights. Prey left old ship. Killer saw and followed. I watched, but soon close to Turquoise House and did not want to be near the big red anger. You were at Turquoise House and food and the soft Healer to feed us and pet us and was much nicer than scary killer.

He imagined so. You didnat go to Apollopa Park?

Park with pretty mirrors stuck in stupid water and old Temple full of smells? Racc.o.o.n den? No. She snuck back out from under the bench, stayed close, but began grooming her whiskers.

Garrett grunted. One of his talents was the ability to meld minds with a Fam, but he didnat do it often, and this cat was skittish enough to harm them both if he tried. He mulled over her words. aWhy would he go after the racc.o.o.ns this morning?a Because they are ugly and nasty, said Sleek Black, not even bothering to look up from cleaning his stomach.

The newest cat, a gray tabby tom with big eyes and ratty ears crept closer to Garrett but stayed out of kicking range. Garrett had gotten the idea that this one had been abused. The catas voice was no more than a whisper in Garrettas mind. Because racc.o.o.ns took something the killer left by the prey.

And killer went back to park this morning to search, said Sleek Black between licks on his stomach hair.

So there were three cats whoad seen something of the murder and aftermath. The young female cat, whoad seen Modoc Eryngo arrive in Druida and be stalked by his killer; the abused gray tabby, who had seen something of the killer and his prey; and Sleek Black, who had been in the area that morning, a full day and night after the murder.

First things first, the most important item, the murder itself. Garrett stared at the new gray tabby tom. He shrank back a few steps, huddled in on himself.

You were near Apollopa Park when the murder happened?

No!

But soon after?

Maybe.

How soon after?

The catas glance slid away, but not enough that he didnat keep an eye on Garrettas feet.

Maybe I saw a strange bundle in park that looked like prey. Maybe there was a shadow dancing around the fountain, admiring self in mirrors.

The image of a capering killer sent a chill down Garrettas spine.

Do you think the bundle was dead? he asked.

Another shift away a few centimeters, one whisk of his gray-and-black-ringed tail. Maybe. Not moving.

Though tension had tightened his muscles, Garrett strove to seem relaxed, easy. He couldnat afford to scare the cat away.

Tell me exactly what you saw.

The cat hunched into a crouch, watching Garrett, ready to shoot out of the courtyard and into the alleys. All the other ferals moved closer, ears rotating, curious. They were all nearly as curious as Garrett.