“I see.” Sergeant Davis pressed his lips together. “Can you tell me the caretaker’s name? Or at least describe him?”

  “I don’t know his name. I’d never seen him before, so I’m pretty sure he was only masquerading as someone who worked at the school. He was also wearing a hat, so I’m not sure about his hair, but he had light brown, sort of amber-coloured eyes, and he was moderately tall, five-eleven maybe?”

  Sergeant Davis wrote down the description before motioning to the woman next to him. “Our medical assistant here, Mrs Rose, will take a blood sample so that we can test for poison and other substances.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Please roll up your sleeve,” Mrs Rose requested.

  I did as instructed, and when she finished taking my blood, she quietly packed up her kit and departed, leaving only Sergeant Davis and me in the holding room. I grew nervous under his steely gaze, hoping I wasn’t inadvertently acting guilty.

  “Do I get a phone call?” I asked, my throat dry.

  “Your parents are outside,” he replied. “I presume that’s who you plan to call?” I nodded. “You’ll get to see them after I finish questioning you. To start, I’d like you to describe again your memory of the events leading up to Miss Williams’s killing. Be as detailed as you can manage.”

  I drew in a deep breath, making eye contact with Sergeant Davis before I recalled the events earlier in the day. He asked me a few clarifying questions, then appeared to steel himself.

  “So, we had our magical experts examine the crime scene, and judging from a few other incidents we’ve recorded of late, we believe you were framed for the murder of Belinda Williams.”

  I stared at him, unsure of what to say or how to manage the sheer relief that descended upon me at his words. I thought it would take an awful lot more struggle to prove my innocence. “How?” I inhaled sharply. “How do you know I was framed?”

  “Whoever stabbed Belinda was right-handed, and your weapons teacher, Mr Roe, is adamant that you favour your left,” he replied. “Your arresting officer stated that when he found you, the dagger was in your right hand, so the person who framed you must’ve placed it there, unaware of their error. There was also a strange ectoplasm found on Belinda’s body, which isn’t associated with any supernatural creature we’re aware of. Furthermore, if the test results come back with any unusual substances in your blood, there will be even more evidence of foul play.”

  I frowned, remembering how I’d woken up with the dagger in my right hand. Whoever framed me wrongfully assumed it was my dominant hand, as it was for ninety percent of the population. Then my mind went to one detail he mentioned. “What do you mean by ‘other incidents’?”

  Sergeant Davis blew out a steady breath. “There have been some unusual activities at the Prison of Thorns.”

  Immediately, my heart stuttered. If he was mentioning the prison, that meant it had something to do with Vasilios. “What kind of unusual activities?”

  “Just a few small suspicious incidents, like doors being found left open when they were previously locked by prison officers, certain items going missing from the kitchens. It began after Vasilios and Sven entered the prison, which leads me to believe Vasilios has discovered a way of overturning the wards and magical blocks within the building. We believe he can still use his magic, if not all of it, then at least some. We thought he might use it to escape, but he hasn’t made any attempt so far. Now, we suspect he used his magic to get a message outside the prison, a message to orchestrate you being framed for murder, making him, ultimately, the one behind today’s killing.”

  “You think Vasilios framed me?” It made perfect sense. He’d despised me after I betrayed him, playing a part in his arrest. I always knew he’d try to get his revenge. I just didn’t expect it to come so soon.

  “We do. The ectoplasm strengthens the theory. Vasilios is from another dimension. We don’t know many things about the kind of demon he is.”

  “But he didn’t kill Belinda. He might’ve given the order, but someone else clearly did the dirty work. Does that mean there are more people travelling from his dimension? People willing to do his bidding?” A chill went through me at the thought, especially since Vasilios had described Oreylia to me, and it didn’t sound like many nice people were there. Not the sort I wanted coming to my world anyway.

  “It’s a possibility,” Sergeant Davis replied, and a silence fell between us.

  At least a full minute elapsed before I asked, “So, why am I here if you’re sure I’m innocent?”

  He clasped his hands together. “I recall you being eager to join the Guard after you graduate,” he said, piquing my interest.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Well, how would you feel about working for us a little sooner than anticipated?”

  I stared at him for a beat, my eyes widening. “Obviously, that’s something I’d be very interested in.”

  “I wouldn’t go agreeing until you hear my proposal,” Sergeant Davis warned, pausing a moment to rub his jaw before continuing. “Our expert witches and warlocks have no idea how Vasilios might still be accessing his magic while inside the prison. The only real way to find out is to have him confess his methods to another prisoner.”

  “So, you’re going to recruit a prisoner to work for you?” I surmised.

  Sergeant Davis shook his head. “There isn’t anyone we can trust inside that place. Most of them are in there for life. We have no sway with them. What I’m proposing is to send you in under the pretence of being found guilty of Belinda’s murder.”

  I stared at him again as his words sank in. Then I stared some more. Had he really just suggested I go undercover to the Prison of Thorns? Was he out of his mind? Admittedly, a part of me was intrigued by the plan, but the other, more logical part knew entering a prison full of notorious criminals—and not just average human criminals but supernatural ones—was a very bad idea. There were witches and warlocks, demons and vampires, shapeshifters and elves. All variety of nefarious beings dwelled within the Prison of Thorns. It was a terrifying place to enter merely as a visitor, never mind masquerading as an actual prisoner. And my mortal enemy, one Vasilios Acacius Girard, just so happened to be a resident.

  “Wouldn’t it be wiser to send in one of your trained officers? Don’t get me wrong, I’m highly motivated by the idea of joining your ranks early, but I’m just not sure I’m the right person,” I told him honestly.

  “Yes, it would be better if I could use a trained member of the Guard. Unfortunately, those in our ranks have already crossed paths with many of the inmates. All it would take is for one person to recognise our undercover agent, and the entire operation would be toast. You, however, are a brand-new face. No one in the prison knows who you are.”

  “Right, except for Vasilios and Sven. I mean, they might not suspect that I’m undercover, but they could decide to tell the other inmates that I’m Ethan and Tegan Cristescu’s daughter. My father was involved in putting many of those people behind bars, and they’d be more than happy to use me to get back at him.”

  Sergeant Davis ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “That is a possibility, but I feel it’s unlikely. I don’t think Vasilios means you harm in that way. He has a fondness for you.”

  I stiffened, my lips flattening. “How do you know that?”

  He shot me a pointed look. “We know about the letter and the flowers Vasilios sent you. Your parents informed us of them a while ago.”

  A small shiver trickled down my spine as I remembered that haunting letter and the strange, bespelled flowers. The letter had creeped me out so much that every word was imprinted in my memory. And I’d received them on Valentine’s Day, no less.

  Dearest Darya,

  Is it too soon to ask if you miss me? I have been wallowing in this cell for only a week, and already, the walls are closing in. But never fear. I have a plan to reunite us sooner than you think. In the meantime, I hope you like the roses. I’ve bespelled them with a little surprise. Simply pluck a petal from one of the stems to reveal it.

  Happy Valentine’s Day,

  Yours always,

  V.

  xxx.

  I hadn’t been brave enough to pluck off one of the petals, but my mother, with all her vast magic, didn’t share my fear. She plucked off a petal, and the roses began to hum with a haunting tune, an old song Vasilios seemed to have a penchant for called “Sealed with a Kiss.”

  I brought my attention back to Sergeant Davis as I swallowed down the lump lodged in my throat. “What about the letter?”

  “In it, he said he had a plan to reunite you,” Sergeant Davis explained. “I believe pinning this murder on you is his way of doing that. He wants you to be sent to the prison so that you can be together. That’s why I don’t think he’ll reveal your identity. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants you there with him.”

  Well, if the letter and flowers hadn’t creeped me the hell out, that statement did. “So, what is this, some kind of twisted revenge mixed with a romantic gesture? Honestly, I don’t buy it. Vasilios hates me. The letter was just a way of messing with my head. Sure, he might’ve framed me, but only because he wants to ruin my life for what I did to him.”

  “I disagree. I believe Vasilios still harbours feelings for you, which means he’ll be much more likely to reveal his secrets, mainly how he’s still accessing his magic. However, if it turns out you’re right and he’s done all of this out of hatred, then your challenge will be to redeem yourself in his eyes. Convince him to trust you again.”

  Oddly, my stomach twisted with a strange sense of guilt at the thought of using whatever feelings Vasilios may or may not have for me against him. I quickly quashed the sentiment. If Sergeant Davis’s theory was to be believed, he’d had Belinda killed just to achieve his goal of having me convicted. He deserved whatever punishment was coming to him.

  “I’ve run the idea by your parents,” Sergeant Davis said, interrupting my thoughts. “They’ve both outright rejected it, of course, but the decision lies with you, Darya. We’ll provide you with training and knowledge of the prison before you enter. You’ll be equipped with every possible tool to ensure your safety. Should you decide to do this, that is. You can say no, and it won’t affect your chances of being recruited after you graduate from St. Bastian’s. You have my word on that.”

  I fell into thoughtful silence, my mind racing as I weighed the pros and cons. On the one hand, I’d be getting experience no other Guard member had before. But on the other, I’d be entering a place where I’d be dealing with dangerous criminals daily. It would be a fight for survival, no doubt about it, and though I was strong, I was still very young compared to those who dwelled inside the prison. Some of them were hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years old.

  Also, the thought of spending time with Vasilios made me uneasy. He had, after all, plotted to murder my parents and actually thought I’d still fall in love with him one day. He was deranged. The entire framing me for murder thing proved it.

  But if I took my personal feelings out of the equation and looked at it solely from a career perspective, the idea of being instrumental in solving a crime was exhilarating. Going undercover and completing an assignment would feel like being a fully-fledged member of the Guard, which was what I’d aspired to for years.

  “If you do this,” Sergeant Davis said, almost like he read my mind, “you’ll be guaranteed a place in our recruitment drive. Only fifty new applicants are approved each year.”

  I chewed my lip. That was true. They did only accept fifty new recruits, and if I wasn’t one of those fifty, I had absolutely no idea what I would do with my life once I graduated.

  “How long would I have to be in there?” I asked.

  “It’s hard to say. It all depends on how long it takes for you to get close to Vasilios.”

  I frowned, feeling torn. It was a rare opportunity, but it was also incredibly risky. My insides were in turmoil over the idea of putting on an act for someone as dangerous as Vasilios. What if he saw through it? What depraved form of punishment would he dream up for me then? I lifted my gaze to Sergeant Davis. “I’ll need to discuss it with my parents before I decide.”

  “Of course. Though, as I said, they were both fervently against the idea when I brought it up.”

  “I know, but I might be able to talk them around.”

  Sergeant Davis nodded. “Right, well, I’m going to escort you to a washroom where you can clean yourself up, and then I’ll bring you to see your mother and father.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  A few minutes later, I stood in a small washroom staring into a mirror. There was blood spatter on my face, dotting my school uniform. Did that mean I was in the room unconscious while Belinda was being slaughtered? Or did the blood get on me when I bent to inspect her body? A heavy feeling of sadness settled in my gut. Belinda and I were far from friends, but the idea that she was dead left me hollow. She hadn’t deserved to die, and the fact that another member of the Williams family had been killed because of Vasilios’s sick obsession with me made me angry. No, furious. His fixation on me needed to end before anyone else lost their life, and the only way to do that was to ensure he could no longer use his magic. His freedom needed to be removed completely, and while he could still access his magic, he would never be truly imprisoned.

  “I can’t believe you killed me,” came a voice, and I jumped in fright. There, standing behind me in my reflection in the mirror, was Belinda’s ghost, her dark hair framing her face, her uniform drenched in blood. Ghosts must keep the image of how they died because she looked exactly as I’d seen her on that classroom floor.

  When she spoke again, her words were small and airy.

  “You murdered me, Darya.”

  Her ghostly voice sent shivers down my spine, not to mention her grisly appearance. “I didn’t murder you. Don’t you remember what happened?”

  She frowned, her brow furrowing before she answered, “No. It’s all a blank. The last thing I remember is sitting in the cafeteria with Anna and Liz.”

  I remembered her sitting there, too, the three of them casting me snide looks and giggling away to themselves. It had been a mild irritation. Certainly nothing to make me so mad that I’d stab her to death.

  “Someone set me up. The Guard has verified that I was framed,” I told her gently while turning to face her. I was both fascinated and unsettled by her strange, incorporeal form. “I’m going to help them figure out who killed you. The Guard wants me to go undercover.”

  “Oh, wonderful!” Belinda’s ghost replied sarcastically, and I was somewhat amused to find her personality lived on, even in death. “I’m so happy you get to actualise your sleuthing fantasies. The fact still remains that I’m dead, and it’s all your fault.”

  “Hey! How is it my fault? I told you I was framed.”

  “If someone framed you, that means they had some kind of vendetta against you. Ergo, I was killed because of you.”

  Okay, well, her logic made sense, and if Sergeant Davis’s theory about Vasilios was correct, then Belinda was right. She lost her life because of me. Guilt threatened to overwhelm me, like a tonne of bricks collapsing on top of me.

  “Listen, I’m sorry this happened to you. Really, I am. I never would’ve wanted—”

  A knock sounded on the door. “Everything okay in there?” Sergeant Davis asked. Great, now he thought I was talking to myself.

  “Everything’s fine. I’m just finishing up,” I replied.

  When I turned back to the sink, Belinda’s ghost had vanished again. I couldn’t deny I was glad. Most likely, she’d reappear at some point. Seeing her ghastly form only functioned to deepen my guilt, sorrow, and anger over what had happened. She was an innocent casualty, and I wouldn’t rest until her killer was brought to justice.

  I cleaned the blood from my hands as best I could before changing into the grey tracksuit Sergeant Davis provided. I shoved my blood-stained uniform into a plastic bag, and when I was done, I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. My mind was made up. I would enter the Prison of Thorns as an undercover agent for the Guard.

  I feared convincing my parents to let me go would be the hardest part.

  5.

  Sergeant Davis provided my parents and me with a private room to talk. Needless to say, we were in there for quite a few hours. I was fairly certain I should’ve been given some kind of debating award when I finally managed to convince them.

  There was shouting, tears, and pleading. Now, the three of us sat in sullen silence. Many compromises were made, more on their part than mine, but still. I had to promise that if my mission took longer than a few weeks, I’d redo my final year at St. Bastian’s. Needless to say, I was highly motivated to get it done quickly.

  “I’ll be monitoring the reports from the prison daily,” my father said. “And if I get even a hint of trouble, I’ll remove you personally.”

  “That makes two of us,” my mother added, and I was grateful for how much they cared about me, but at the same time, I needed to do it. Belinda had lost her life because of me. I couldn’t just continue as normal and allow the possibility of others being hurt, too. I needed to finish this thing with Vasilios to move on finally.

  There was a knock at the door, and my father went to open it, revealing Peter, his face full of concern.

  “Darya!” he exclaimed as he barrelled into the room.

  “We’ll give you two a moment,” Mum said, taking my dad’s hand and leading him out. As soon as they were gone, I launched myself at Peter, melting into his familiar comfort and warmth. His arms and chest, his scent that I knew so well.

  We stayed like that for a long time, absorbing one another. I wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed before Peter broke the quiet. “What the hell’s been going on? Everyone’s saying you killed Belinda, but I know that can’t be true.”

  “No one out there filled you in?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting up.