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“That might not be the reason for her death.” I snapped my fingers. “Maybe they had another motive, and when she stepped outside alone, they finally had their opportunity to act on it.”

Ace nodded.

“That sounds most likely, but it still doesn’t give us much on the motive.”

“But it does raise another problem,” Ace said, concern pinching his expression.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Whomever did this had to be watching the Death House. They had to be in a place ready to act when the coroner stepped outside.” He looked up and met my gaze, his dark eyes flashing. “They would’ve seen us enter and exit the Death House.”

A chill ran over my skin. If Ace was right, the unknown killer would now suspect or assume we knew whatever Carla knew.

The queen had known we were there. Did she also know who killed Carla?

Or was she the killer?

I shivered and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. The queen seemed an unlikely suspect, but I wouldn’t automatically discount her just because it didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

But one thing was certain. I needed to speak to my brother. “I need to sleep for at least five hours or I’m going to fall over. After that, let’s go to Paul’s place. He should be back from Wast by then.”

“I’ll sleep on your couch,” Ace said.

I opened my mouth to protest.

“Something’s going on and I think it’s best if we stick together.”

“Then I’ll stay, too,” Orion said. “I’ll take the armchair.”

Just great. Like I needed these two hovering around while I slept. “Can you two manage your territorial issues over the living room without damaging the place?”

They both scowled at each other, which didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.

“Of course,” Ace assured me.

Orion nodded.

I didn’t believe either of them.

34

I banged my knuckles on the weathered door of Paul’s cabin for the third time. The sound echoed through the quiet forest, but there was no response. Ace and Orion stood behind me, silent and tense.

After a fitful four-hour nap, I’d splashed cold water on my face and pulled on leather pants, and a vest to go over my long-sleeved shirt. My hair was a mess, but I managed to wrestle it into a ponytail. With a frustrated sigh, I reached forward and grabbed the handle. It turned easily in my hand, and I pushed open the creaky door. “Paul! If you’re there, say something.”

Silence greeted us.

A wave of unease prickled my spine and tugged at my scalp. The cabin was unusually cold, with no fire lit recently. Paul hadn’t come home last night or this morning.

“Maybe he’s still in Wast,” Ace suggested. “You know your brother, Mouse. Don’t jump to conclusions yet.”

But I couldn’t stop my mind from running off to the worst-case scenario. My thoughts raced with images of my brother lying dead in some back-alley surrounded by filth and decay while pick pockets looted his belongings, and the rest of the world continued on, oblivious to my loss.

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Let’s check the cabin.”

The men spread out to search the living room and kitchen while I went straight to the main bedroom. The thick curtains were drawn shut, blocking out the light. The bed had been hastily made, the cotton sheets rumpled and uneven. But Paul wasn’t here. He wasn’t sprawled across the covers with his usual cheeky grin or asking me about my day in that teasing tone of his.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the memories away.