Jaded [The Moonlight Breed 9] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Gabrielle Evans (good novels to read TXT) 📗

“Right,” Nikola agreed, finally relaxing his defensive posture. “I saw him, too. He was with that one guard.”

“Wait. Which guard?” Zuriel had only met a few of them, but he’d caught something about a guard in Spiro’s thoughts.

Nikola’s brow furrowed, and his nose crinkled. “I don’t know his name, but I don’t think he’s even part elf. He’s a lot bigger than the other sentries.” He held his hands apart in measurement. “Broader in the shoulders, ya know?”

“Oh,” Jacobi cooed. “I’ll have to make his acquaintance very soon.”

And everyone thinks I’m the slut. “Yes, you do that.” Chasing after hot men had been a fun pastime, but Zuriel was finding he was much happier being a one-man kind of guy. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t try to murder you in your sleep.”

Jacobi smirked and rocked his hips suggestively. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

He was barely paying attention anymore, though. A stray thought—a completely absurd idea—was swirling around in his head. “We could find some answers.”

If this was an attack of some sort, it was clearly aimed at members of the royal family. Zuriel wasn’t a fighter, but he’d be damned if he’d sit back and twiddle his thumbs while someone was plotting to kill his mate.

“I like where this is going.” A mischievous grin stretched across Jacobi’s face. “I always wanted to be a private dick.”

The guy was completely incorrigible, but Zuriel liked that about him. A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing Jacobi’s bed, either. In fact, he’d practically thrown himself at the shifter. Hell, he’d attempted to seduce anyone with two legs and a dick. He wasn’t proud of it, but playing the whore was much easier than wallowing in self-hatred.

Then Spiro had blown into his life like the cool breeze from a storm and swept him away. No matter how hard he’d fought against it, his mate had refused to let him self-destruct, had refused to allow him to hide behind his mask of outrageous behavior.

In essence, Spiro had saved him. The least he could do was return the favor.

Rubbing his hands together, he rolled his shoulders back and lifted both eyebrows. “Okay, where do we start?”

* * * *

The meeting in the infirmary had garnered zero results. The doctor was just as perplexed as everyone else, proclaiming that she’d never seen anything like it before. However, she had promised to conduct a slew of tests and get back to him quickly. Her lack of knowledge on the situation was troubling, but Spiro couldn’t say he was surprised.

The pretty female was married to one of the sentries, which was the reason she’d come to the island in the first place. It wasn’t often that the paranormals required her services, but she was good with wounds and injuries. Plus, there were several human mates on the island, and it was much more convenient—not to mention safer—to have a doctor nearby rather than travel to the mainland.

Not that it mattered anymore. No one was going anywhere until he had some answers that satisfied him. “I hate this job,” he mumbled under his breath as he trudged along the pathway that would lead him home.

His companion said nothing, but he did grunt, which Spiro took as acknowledgment of his complaint. He didn’t care, though. He wasn’t looking for validation. Taking charge was something he excelled at, but it was the rare occurrence when he actually enjoyed it.

The guards had successfully shut down all transportation on or off of the island. Spiro and Rissian had personally interviewed everyone on staff in the palace, paying special attention to those who’d had contact with Thalian before his death. Of course, no one knew anything.

They’d combed the courtyards, searching for anything that might be amiss. Either he had a horrible eye for detail, or everything was just as it should be. The kitchen was ransacked and food tested for contamination. A group of volunteers had even dug through the trash but had found nothing useful.

Making little progress within the house, Spiro had taken a handful of guards through their small town, and they’d conducted a very quiet observation of the residents. So far, no one else was showing any signs of illness. In fact, they’d all looked at him very strangely when he’d inquired about their health. After all, most of them were immortal.

Having so many people rely on him was a lot of goddamn pressure, and the lack of helpful information was frustrating, to say the least. It had been the longest day of his life, and it wasn’t nearly over yet.

“You should rest, Your Majesty. We can meet in the morning.” It was the only thing Nithron had said throughout the entire walk home.

“Call me Spiro.” It might be his birthright, but any royal title or address just sounded hollow to him. “I’m tempted to take you up on that offer.” He’d promised Zuriel he’d be back after his trip to the infirmary, but he’d gotten caught up in his quest for answers. There was a good chance he had one highly irritated mate waiting in bed for him.

“I think we’ve done all we can for today. Some sleep to clear our heads might make for a better start tomorrow morning.”

Spiro really didn’t need convincing, but he was intrigued by the way Nithron spoke. From appearances, Spiro wouldn’t have guessed he was any older than twenty, but looks were deceiving, especially when it came to supes. After spending the majority of the day with the guard, he highly doubted his original estimate of maturity was anywhere close to accurate.

While Nithron’s age was unimportant, spending the day with him had provided Spiro with a chance to study his chaperone. He supposed anything was possible, but watching the guard with the islanders, seeing him smile and laugh with the children, Spiro was having a hard time picturing him as a cold-blooded murderer.

“Clear heads sound good,” he finally answered, wanting more