I stared at him, half believing he was joking with me. He wasn't, of course. His face was all seriousness.

"Murdered? Are you sure? How? By who?"

"That is what we have asked you here for," Monish said, setting his pen down and lacing his fingers together on top of his portfolio. "It has come to the attention of the L'au-dela committee that you were a suspect in two recent murders in Paris."

A horrible, dreadful feeling of deja vu crept over me. It couldn't happen again, could it?

"Because of that, and because of your involvement with the two Guardians who were killed, the committee views you with extreme suspicion. I do not believe you are responsible for the Guardians' murders"—

I relaxed into an ungraceful slump.

—"but I believe you had something to do with them, even if it is a connection you yourself do not yet recognize."

"But—but—"

The horrible feeling swelled. It was happening again! Dammit, it couldn't! I wouldn't let it!

"The committee has recommended a course of action that I hesitate to take."

The loathing in his voice pulled me out of a temporary wallow in self-pity to take note of what he was saying. "What course is that?" I asked, dreading the answer.

Paolo and he exchanged glances. Meaningful glances. "I believe that information is not relevant. Know simply that it would be most, . . unpleasant."

Oh, great. He was talking about supernatural torture. The head of the Otherworld's government wanted to torture me because of what had happened in Paris.

"That thing in Paris—it was just a coincidence." I started to explain, but Monish wouldn't let me Finish.

"I have read the report filed by the wiccan Amelie Merllain. I am familiar with the happenings of that time. But you must understand my position, Aisling. The committee members are calling for your head. They believe that you have an uncontrolled power that with or without your knowledge was used in conjunction with the Guardians' deaths. They want me to take you into custody and .. ." His gaze shifted to Paolo for a second or two before returning to me. At the implication of something so awful, I went from merely being sick to my stomach to sheer, unadulterated terror. "I have obtained their agreement to refrain from committing you to such a regrettable course of action by promising them that you would, under the authority of the watch, identify the murderers of both Guardians."

My heart dropped down to my feet, joining my stomach. "But, Monish, I'm not a detective! I don't know the first thing about finding murderers! And I don't have any uncontrolled powers! Well, all right, I'm not terribly in control of the power I do have, but it's not a big power. And it couldn't kill anyone. I wouldn't know how to even go about making someone sick, let alone kill them. Intentionally or otherwise. I'm just a Guardian wannabe, pure and simple."

"You are also a wyvern's mate," Monish pointed out. Paolo nodded.

"Yeah, but—"

"A portal was opened and a demon came forth before you during a lunch."

"The dragons—"

"And it has not escaped notice that mortal men seem to be, if you will forgive the impertinence, unduly attracted to you."

"That's the amulet," I interrupted quickly, pulling the amulet's chain up so they could see it. "I was supposed to give it to its owner today, but my demon got sick and I had to take it to the vet."

"The fact that you are also a demon lord is an added concern to the committee," Monish said softly.

I slumped even further into my chair. "It's just the one demon. I don't know why they insist that binding one little, insignificant demon to you makes you a demon lord."

"It is not everyone who has sufficient power to control even a little, insignificant demon."

I wanted to melt into the floor. It was no use to try to protest my innocence. The damned committee I had just agreed to recognize had set me up for a fall, and they weren't going to be happy until I tumbled into their grasp.

"There is a positive side to this, you know," Monish said, chivalrously refraining from gloating over my acquiescence.

I looked up at him, heartsick, soul-sick, entire-rotten-life-sick. "No, there's not."

"Yes, there is," he said, and for the first time that evening he smiled. "You solved the murder of a very influential member of the Paris L'au-dela. Surely it will present no difficulty for you to use your powers to identify the murderer of two simple Guardians."

   Chapter 17

My meeting with Monish didn't end on that ridiculous note, thankfully. Instead, once he sensed he had emotionally beaten me into numbness and compliance, he shared with me all the information the Otherworld watch had gleaned thus far.

It wasn't much, just background material on the two women and the fact that they had both been discovered dead in their beds by maids who had let themselves into the rooms to clean. Neither woman had any signs of trauma, wounds, or obvious cause of death.

Detailed examination showed one similarity between them: They had both recently engaged in sex.

"Well.. . they were both pretty and, according to your records, single. It's not surprising they kicked up their heels a little," I said, flicking through the two files Monish had handed me. Most of it was in French, which I did not read, but he translated parts he felt were pertinent. I avoided the autopsy pictures he'd somehow managed to get a hold of.

Monish looked vaguely embarrassed. "When I said there was a link between the two women, I did not mean that the fact that they had both engaged in sexual relations was it. That alone would not be sufficient evidence of a connection." His eyes did a subtle little dance. "I suspect that many people attending the conference have spent their evenings in such a fashion."

I slapped an innocent look on my face. "Mmm,"

The light in his eyes died as he continued, "What ties the deaths of the two women together is the manner of their ... er ... relations."

"Manner?" I asked, my forehead wrinkling as I tried to read between the lines. "You mean they were into something kinky? Bondage? That sort of thing?"

A faint blush stole over Paolo's cheeks. I watched it, intrigued, more than a little amazed that the man who had taken to plaguing me could blush over the mention of a little kinky sex.