Quinn shook his head. “We tested the teapot and there wasn’t any poison.”
She frowned. “That makes no sense, Quinn.”
He held up his hand to calm her. “We tested the teapot, tea leaves, mugs, tea, and water.”
“And?”
“The tea in Vott’s mug was poisoned, but not until after you arrived. By the staff reports, he’d been sitting and drinking tea for a quarter hour before you arrived.”
“Wait a second… I didn’t poison my father!” she exclaimed.
Quinn’s gaze met hers for a moment, just long enough for Becka to realize he was reading her. His innate gift gave him an ear for the truth, and because it was innate, it operated twenty-four seven. All he had to do was pay attention. Did he think she was capable of poisoning her own father? His doubt hurt her heart.
This isn’t how things are supposed to be between us.
“I didn’t think you had, but thank you for the unequivocal statement. It’ll satisfy the doubts of some others, and I believe you.” He jotted down another note before continuing. “Our techs found that the entire rim of your mug was covered in poison. Our theory is that you were the intended target. Since you poured your tea into Vott’s mug, that’s likely how his tea was contaminated.”
Becka’s head swam in confusion. “You’re saying I did poison my father?”
He rocked his head from side to side. “Inadvertently. It wasn’t your fault.”
Tears filled her eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
He leaned closer, reached out, and stroked her shoulder. “I understand.”
Becka reveled in the contact, chaste and brief as it was. “Do the enforcers have any leads?”
“We know nothing definite, so we’re casting a broader net in the investigation to make sure we don’t miss any potential suspects.”
“I’m grateful the enforcers are here. Well, that you’re here. I just hope Vott can recover from the poison soon.”
He nodded, a grim set to his jaw. “I am also hopeful, but the chances are low. He appears to have gotten a larger dose than you. Plus, there’s the nature of the poison.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? Illan said it was a mixture of nightshade and strychnine. He also said that he’d used a combination of magic and medicine to treat Vott and that he was hopeful for his recovery.”
Quinn fixed her with a look, one she remembered from the last time he gave her bad news. He leaned in and spoke in low tones. “There was a third component in the poison.”
Chapter 6
“Don’t leave me hanging,” she said.
There was no trace of humor in Quinn’s features, his prominent bone structure left harsh and grave without his usual animated personality. “We found traces of the Treatment.”
Becka’s eyes blinked in quick succession. “You can’t be serious. The Treatment?”
His chin ducked a quick nod. “The one and only.”
Every fae-touched knew of the Treatment. Humans developed it during the Great War as a last-ditch effort to eradicate the fae threat. The fae didn’t know how it functioned; the method and formula a closely kept human secret. Rumor said it was a form of genetic warfare. Any fae exposed to the substance had their powers limited. Blunted. Bound. But those weren’t the worst of the effects.
Becka had read stories of the devastation to the victims. Cruelly, they still felt a trickle of their powers, but never again had access to them in meaningful ways. They also aged at an accelerated pace, which was a death sentence for those already well along in years. The victims withered, losing their strength, night vision, and agility.
Some killed themselves, unwilling to live without elements of self they considered essential. Those that didn’t take their own lives withered away, pariahs of their generation. A warning to all fae-kind not to war with humans ever again.
The Treatment had turned the tide of the war in favor of the human contingent. Fear of being stripped of all that made them fae was a weapon they could not defeat. Thus, the Pax Hominid Treaty was born, or at least enforced.
“That’s why Maura and Astrid wanted my gift checked!”
“Yes,” he replied. “They were the first I told when the test results came in.”
She shivered. “I didn’t know the Treatment was still around. I thought part of the treaty was an agreement never to use that weapon again, as long as fae maintained the peace.”
He shook his head, his grimace nearing a snarl. “There’s an exclusion for when fae are convicted of sedition or violent crimes in human courts. Then a part of the sentence includes the Treatment. It’s rarely done; the threat alone is enough to deter most transgressions.”
“Is there enough left to reverse-engineer a cure?” Becka asked. “You must have access to labs sophisticated enough to attempt it?”
“The labs are there, but remember they are human-run, even the enforcer labs. Reverse-engineering a cure to the Treatment would not be allowed. Besides, once we realized what we had, all our samples were seized. No fae is allowed access to it.”
“Except the one who used it to poison my father and me!” Becka felt sick to her stomach. She sat forward on the divan again. “Poor Vott. I was the true target, but he got most of the dose…”
Quinn nodded. “There’s still hope for him. We don’t yet know how much he received. Only time will tell how deeply impacted his abilities and health will be.”
Becka felt the floor drop out beneath her, her stomach flip-flopping with anxiety. “If they’d been successful, at least I’d have gotten out of my engagement.”
He frowned, brows drawn together. “There are more side effects from the Treatment than simply losing one’s powers. You’d be wasting away, powerless and ailing, even more vulnerable to your enemies. Surely that wouldn’t have been worth the cost?”
“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound like an acceptable exit strategy. Quinn, I’m grateful the enforcers assigned you to this case. Seeing
