Free Aspen by Skye Knizley

with feet that felt like lead. Visiting the Mistress of St Louis wasn’t in her plans when she’d decided to take a break from her life in Chicago. When she reached the throne she gave a partial bow.
    “Aspen Kincaid-Tempeste, familiar of Fürstin Storm and servant of the House Tempeste,” she said.
    Shirina nodded once. “Well met, Aspen. I must admit I was dismayed to hear an emissary of House Tempeste was within my borders and did not present herself, but you are here now and no harm done.”
    Aspen straightened. “Apologies, Mistress Blackwood. I am not here formally, I am working on a case—”
    “Yes, the death of Kristof Martel, Bruno told me. Surely Valentina or Fürstin Storm told you protocol requires you to acknowledge the local Mistress, if there is one, upon entering their domain?”
    Aspen blushed. “Mi ‘lady, my Fürstin isn’t much for rules, as I am sure you are aware. I was not told, nor did I think it was necessary. I am flying under the radar, as it were.”
    Shirina stopped petting Rowan and stood. To Aspen’s surprise, the vampire was just a shade over five feet tall. “I see. Well, you should know that not all of the Court agrees with Fürstin Storm’s attitude toward the Totentanz. While within my domain I expect you to behave accordingly and swear fealty to me. Is that clear?”
    Aspen met Shirina’s eyes and wasn’t sure what to think. Was this a test? Or was the vampire really trying to force her to swear fealty?
    “With respect, Shirina, my loyalty is to Raven and Lady Valentina. My business here is not privy to the Totentanz nor do I owe you fealty,” she said.
    Shirina held her gaze a moment longer, then her delicate features broke into a wide smile.
    “Well done, Faramo Tempeste! Well done.”
    She sat and crossed her legs, gesturing at something Aspen couldn’t see. “Here is Lydia with the tea. I assume you prefer that to Claret? Share a cup with me and tell me what you know of this Martel.”
    Aspen turned to see an older woman in a Victorian maid’s uniform. She was pushing a cart laden with a silver tea set and a carafe of claret. She stopped beside Shirina and began to serve while Rowan placed more cushions for Aspen to lounge on. Aspen sat cross-legged on the cushions and accepted a silver cup filled with a warm, aromatic brew. A brew her nose told her was not entirely tea. She held it, but was careful not to touch or sip from the cup.
    “I don’t really know much. I found Mr. Martel’s corpse and started an investigation into what killed him. As of now there isn’t much to go on, I tracked him to the Four Seasons where I met Bruno and that is about all I know. My investigation will continue from here,” she said.
    Shirina took a cup of claret from Lydia. “I see. And where did you find Mr. Martel?”
    Aspen spread her hands. “I promised I wouldn’t share that information, or the location of his remains.”
    Shirina arched an eyebrow. “Really? Well, I suspect it is at that fleabag hunter motel or somewhere close by. Regardless, I am not interested in the disposition of his remains. I want to know why one of my lycans was found dead in his Colorado apartment.”
    Aspen blinked in surprise. “One of your lycans? How did he die?”
    “His throat was cut, similar to the man you found in his hotel room this morning. At first, I thought Martel had done it, but now I believe that to be unlikely. Perhaps whoever killed Martel was involved. How did Martel die?” Shirina asked.
    “I don’t know,” Aspen said. “He had no visible injuries, it was as if he just wasted away.”
    Shirina leaned forward. “Was he human? Could he have killed my lycan?”
    “He was human and no, I doubt he could best a lycan. My research indicates he didn’t even believe they exist,” Aspen replied.
    “The tea is not to your liking?” Lydia asked in a quiet voice.
    Aspen kept her eyes on Shirina. “Flunitrazepam isn’t to my liking. I prefer to keep my wits about me,