Out of the Blue (Ever Green Book 1)

By Lyra Evans

Detective Niko Spruce has a love-hate relationship with pain. That is, he hates that he loves it. His last case was a success, but it turned his life upside down and taught him some things he wishes he could forget. The best way to move on is to close yourself off and pretend it never happened, right? So when he’s called to the beach for a body they can’t trace to any of the Three Courts with a cause of death no one can explain, Niko thinks he’s set. An impossible case to disappear into.

Only then Cobalt Sincloud shows up. Appearing out of the ocean, Cobalt is gorgeous, powerful, and mysterious. He claims to know the victim and identifies himself as a Selkie. Which is weird because as far as any Fae know, Selkies aren’t real.

Cobalt is exactly the kind of guy Niko knows can give him the pain he craves. He’s also determined to find the killer and gets himself assigned to the case. Now Niko’s got a politically charged murder to solve and a distracting partner who’s more than a little interested in him. To make matters worse, the investigation drives them back into Niko’s past, this case inextricably linked to his last. Questions pile up, and if Niko wants answers, he’s going to have to face down demons he thought he’d buried. And as the tension mounts, Niko starts to wonder if he should stop punishing himself and let Cobalt do it instead.

The stakes are high; the unsteady peace of the Three Courts is on the line. Can Niko and Cobalt trust each other enough to solve the mystery? Or will the reality of the investigation bring more pain than even Niko can handle?

Out of the Blue is a 160,000 word erotic, mystery romance in a fantasy setting. It focuses on an m/m relationship with explicit sexual scenes (and glimpses of f/f, m/f, moresomes, etc). This novel features BDSM scenes, violence, coarse language, and relationships that are not always entirely healthy. For trigger warnings, see below. It is the first novel in a series and follows the events of the Worth Series and the Three Courts series. You do not, however, need to have read those books to enjoy this one. It has a bittersweet HFN ending with a sequel to come.

Trigger warnings and possible spoilers: Blood, edgeplay including knifeplay and erotic asphyxiation, discussions of sexual and physical abuse, sex trafficking, and issues of consent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyra Evans
• Release date: Sep 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005736729

Lyra Evans

Lyra Evans has been making up stories since she was a kid and writing them down since her best friends informed her that was actually a career. Though plot and fantasy are what drive her worlds, she's got a particular love for M/M romance that she can't quite kick (though who would want to?). She tries her best to mix those three elements in her novels. A lover of books, games, food, and travel, she's always excited to try something new.For updates on her novels and what inspires her, follow her on Twitter.If you'd like to receive an email alert every time one of her books goes live, you can subscribe to the newsletter here: eepurl.com/cm-Af2 (you'll only receive emails for new books, no spam).

Book preview

Out of the Blue

Lyra Evans

Copyright © 2018 Lyra Evans

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Twitter: @WriterLyraEvans

Cover design by designacover

This book contains scenes of explicit sexual content, violence, coarse language, and instances of questionable consent. Trigger warnings for mentions of sexual assault, dubious consent, edgeplay, discussions of past physical and sexual abuse, and some gore. The BDSM interactions are not necessarily healthy, and they are not necessarily meant to illustrate healthy BDSM relationships. No instances of sexual assault are described in detail. This book is not suitable for readers under 18 years of age.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Niko heard the key turn in the lock of the front door. His shoulders fell slightly, a sigh escaping him before he could stop it. Eyes shutting against what was coming, he finished packing the bag with his clothing and set it atop the box filled with his odds and ends. He thought he’d managed to be quick, but apparently not quick enough. Hoisting the box in both hands, he took a steadying breath and walked out of the bedroom.

Ash and Oak, Niko! Uriah cried out, pulling his earphones from his ears, one hand dramatically clutching his chest. A thin sheen of sweat covered his face and arms, soaking through his thin tank top to create a valley of darkness across his chest. His chartreuse hair was cropped short enough now that the sweat made it stick up in tiny spikes all over his head. What are you doing here? he asked, before his eyes found their way to the contents of the box in Niko’s arms. When they did, he visibly deflated.

Niko braced, his expression neutral. There was a time when seeing Uri deflate the way he did would have sent a pang through Niko’s chest. There was a time when the way Uri looked at him was significant to Niko. That time had passed.

I thought you were on a run, Niko said. He couldn’t help the detachment in his voice. He couldn’t help the minute flinch in Uri’s eyes either. But maybe he could have tried.

I was, he answered. His jaw was tightening before Niko’s eyes, his expression searching. Niko’s expression gave nothing away. He was good at that now.

With a glance at the clock on the far kitchen wall, Niko said, You’re ten minutes early.

Uriah narrowed his eyes slightly. I did my usual Wednesday run… Niko chastised himself internally. He should have checked the timing for every week day, not just three of the five. As though almost reading Niko’s thoughts, Uri said, Wait, were you watching me?

Niko’s jaw flexed momentarily. He shifted with the box and tried to get around Uri. I thought it best to do this while you were out, Niko said, finally sliding past Uri in the cramped hallway. He’d always thought this place had a poor layout. As he moved, though, Uri caught his arm and stopped him. His hand was warm and damp against Niko’s skin, probably from the run. Despite the sweatiness, he didn’t smell bad. Not like regular body odour. Just like his usual musk. Sweet and lightly spiced with a woodsy scent. Too sweet for Niko.

Frozen by Uri’s hand, Niko stared straight ahead as Uri whispered, Don’t do this, Nik. Please.

The please nearly got through to him. It nearly pierced through the implacable surface. But Niko wouldn’t cave. This was the only way.

Let me go, Uri, Niko said, his voice even. Uri’s grip tightened slightly.

I’m sorry, he said. And it sounded like he meant it. But words and actions were different things. I’ll never not be sorry. I’ll spend every minute of every day making it up to you. Please. You don’t have to leave.

There was pain behind his eyes, and Niko shut them again. He tried to fight the wave that threatened to overtake him. He’d had enough practice by now; it came more easily. He had no desire to hurt Uri, but the part of him that would once have held back to spare Uri’s feelings was gone now.

You didn’t have to fuck that guy at the club while I was in the hospital, but we all do things, don’t we?

The reaction was instant. Uriah released him and pulled back as though Niko was burning hotter than a star. His eyebrows knitted together, his mouth falling open, Uri looked at Niko as though he was a different man altogether. And he was. Uri couldn’t even know how much he was.

Taking his chance, Niko pushed forward through the living room toward the front door of the apartment. But the edge of his comment only stayed Uri for a moment. And he was on Niko again, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. A tiny spark flared in Niko’s chest, but it was quickly doused by the pained, desperate look on Uri’s face. His black eyes pooled with barely controlled tears, his cheeks turning redder with every passing second. Niko’s detachment grew. There was a moment where he felt as though he was watching from faraway, behind a two-way mirror.

I fucked up. I know that! Uri said, his grip on Niko’s arm almost vise-like. Niko barely noticed. But I apologized and I will continue to. I told you, I will work every day to make amends for what I did. You just need to let me.

Unmoved, Niko said, I can’t.

He didn’t say that it wouldn’t matter, that it would only make things worse. The cheating wasn’t the primary reason Niko was leaving, but it made for an easy answer. An understandable one.

Except to Uriah, apparently. His expression morphed from pain and desperation to anger and desperation, which made a dangerous combination. Why can’t you? If I can forgive what you did, why can’t you forgive what I did?

Niko stilled, like water suddenly going flat amid a hurricane. "What I did?"

If Uriah noticed the ice in Niko’s words, he ignored it, favouring the double-down method of arguing. I know you slept with that guy when you were—

"I was undercover, Niko snapped, the wave of rage rearing beneath the surface of his carefully curated mask. He leaned forward, pressing the edge of the box in his arms against Uri’s chest to get in his face. Uri, slightly shorter than Niko, only then realized the mistake he’d made. But it was too late. I did what I needed to survive."

Without another word, Niko spun and flung the door open. As he passed over the threshold, he tossed his key to the apartment back over his shoulder behind him. The rage bubbled still, his mind racing with flashes of what he’d done, actions barely old enough to be memories. Even as he reminded himself what he’d done was necessary, he didn’t necessarily believe it himself. He didn’t know for sure there was no other alternative. He had no solid evidence. But there was no going back now. No undoing what had been done.

Throwing his belongings into the trunk of his car with more violence than was necessary, he shut the top and got into the front seat, still fuming. The taste of acid stung his tongue, followed by another flavour he didn’t think he’d ever forget. It was bitter and chalky and no matter how many times he washed out his mouth, brushing his tongue until it bled, the taste wouldn’t leave him.

Hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, Niko stared out the windshield and began counting out his breaths. The department shrink had come to see him in hospital to go over some techniques for dealing with what had happened. She’d suggested the breath-counting. Said it would help bring him back from the edge. And it did. Most of the time. And for the times it didn’t, well—he wasn’t about to go back to her for more tips. No way that was happening.

A low buzzing drew his attention away from breathing. He pulled out his cellphone and stared at the number on the screen. Taking only another moment to ensure his breathing was back to normal, he swiped the screen and answered.

Spruce, he said by way of greeting.

Hope you haven’t eaten yet, his captain’s voice said through the receiver. Captain Baobab was usually relatively easy-going and pleasant in demeanour, and his tone told Niko all he needed to know about how bad what was coming was.

Where and what? Niko asked.

After a deep sigh, Baobab said, Get down to Sickle Beach. We’ve got a body, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

Chapter 2

By the time Niko arrived at the parking lot nearest Sickle Beach, the city around him was properly awake. The sun glared down from a cloudless sky, and tourists and would-be beach-goers were already being turned back at the entrance. They flip-flopped their way back across the already searing asphalt, their inflatable beach toys and sand umbrellas poking out at odd angles from beneath their arms like unlikely extra limbs. The scent of sunscreen—coconut and vanilla and just a hint of jasmine—wafted on the ocean air, sticking in Niko’s throat.

He adjusted his navy t-shirt and jeans, pulled out his black sunglasses, and slid them over his eyes. The world immediately took on a dark blue shading. Having lived his entire life in Maeve’s Court would normally have been enough to acclimatize him to the constant brightness, but Niko’s cornflower blue eyes were so pale he found he could never get by without the shades. It did give him an added protection from tourists, though. They tended to avoid asking him for directions, and he thought it might have something to do with the rarity of seeing Fae in sunglasses. Of course, the ‘get the fuck out of my way’ expression constantly on his face might have been the more likely culprit.

His black leather boots were much too heavy for the beach, and though they were worn enough to move silently over the asphalt, he braced himself for the shifting sands ahead of him. A uniformed officer, sweating a small monsoon in his traditional blues, stopped Niko at the yellow-tape barrier. He made to wave Niko off, as though he looked like a tourist. Pulling his badge from his pocket, Niko flashed it at the officer. It took only a moment of dumb embarrassment for him to then lift the tape enough for Niko to pass by.

Sickle Beach was so called because of its shape on a map. Cut off from the city’s main beach attraction by a sliver of a bluff rising straight out of nothing at one end, the beach slowly curls and thins to a near point at the opposite end. The sharpened point is crested by more bluffs, creating almost more of a cove than a regular beach. Despite the beach’s placement off the main strip and just beyond the hotel district, tourists still flocked to Sickle Beach for the strange behaviour of the waters. Surfers and swimmers and sailors all inevitably found their way to Sickle Beach to test their mettle against the bizarre currents and waves. Niko had seen professional surfers flail and fall into the waters of Sickle Beach, as though they’d never surfed before at all. There was a competition every year, in mid-Fall when the water was at its most erratic, to see who could last the longest at simple ocean athletics. It was popular with gamblers for the freakish odds.

Predictably, Niko’s boots slid and slipped on the loose sand as he made his way across the beach toward the gathered group in the distance. A large wave crashed roughly against the sand to his left, reaching far higher on the beach than it should have at this tide and spraying Niko with seawater. The taste of salt speckled his lips, and Niko spat minutely to clear his mouth of it.

Captain Baobab stood a striking figure against the blazing horizon, his almost perfectly black skin giving him the look of living shadow. He wore a dark, well-tailored suit that did not fit his personality at all. Niko narrowed his eyes, searching the others gathered in the group to answer his question. When he found Dipa Banyan, Chief of Police for Maeve’s Court, standing in her crisp white skirt-suit to Captain Baobab’s other side, the Captain’s clothing choices were explained. Niko sighed to himself, wondering whether Chief Banyan would bother to comment on his attire or not.

Detective Spruce, Captain Baobab said, spotting him as he approached the gathered officers and forensic techs.

Captain, Chief, Niko said, nodding his head in deference to each of them in turn. What do we have? He took up a position next to the Captain, keeping himself out of the perimeter created by the forensics team. He wouldn’t have access to the actual body until they had completed their sweep of the scene. But beyond the crouched photographer and evidence collectors, in front of the alarmed medical examiner, lay the body of a young man. Or what had been a young man, once. From his position, Niko could only see the man’s face and legs, the techs blocking the rest of him. His face was that of someone in the prime of their youth, maybe his very early twenties, maybe not even that. His hair was cropped unevenly, though in a stylized way, and was full of sand and dirt and—it took Niko a moment to realize—a wash of blood. His actual hair colour was somewhat unclear beneath the mess, but a few locks stood out as very pale. Maybe blond, maybe white or silver.

Niko reluctantly removed his sunglasses to get a clearer picture of the scene. The victim’s eyes were half-closed, staring blankly toward the water, the irises a startling aquamarine. He was quite beautiful, if Niko were honest, though his features were perhaps more delicate than Niko usually found attractive on men. His lips were parted slightly, slack from death, and they were ringed inside with blue speckled with red. His legs showed mostly clear, pale-ish skin tinged only slightly with blue, as though he’d been in cold weather rather than hot. Blood splattered against his bare legs as well, but Niko could not yet see where the wound might be.

Unidentified male victim, case name John Alder One, approximately twenty years of age, Captain Baobab said, his arms crossed over his chest. He stood a few inches taller than Niko, his bulky frame somehow diminished slightly beneath the suit. Niko nodded along with each detail. Not much else to go on. Found early this morning by a beach-cleaner. Already interviewed. He didn’t have any relevant information. Was his usual shift and confirmed working his other job during our approximate time of death window. The Captain exhaled low and slow, staring blandly out to the scene. Not much to go on until the techs have finished.

And why is top brass here? Niko asked, pulling no punches. Chief Banyan’s perfectly manicured eyebrows raised very slightly at the question, but her painted lips remained pursed as she looked him up and down.

This beach is a public space and very popular tourist destination, she responded primly, having decided, he supposed, that his appearance was either satisfactory or—more likely—so dissatisfactory it didn’t bear remarking on. It is also the first time in fifty-four years there has been a death connected to one of our public beaches. And the first time in more than three hundred years said death is the result of murder. Why wouldn’t I be here?

Niko considered this. So it’s been confirmed murder then?

Absolutely not, the medical examiner piped in, her expression cross. Her long pink hair was tied back in a simple ponytail and her glasses—used more for magnification than to aid sight—sat far down her pale nose. "I can’t even confirm cause of death yet, much less whether or not it amounts to murder."

Captain Baobab pressed his hand to his face. Chief Banyan’s lips pursed to the point of nearly disappearing.

Oh, really, Dr. Aspen, the Chief responded, "and what would you call it when your victim’s had a hole blown clean through his chest?"

Aspen opened her mouth a moment, then immediately shut it, her white cheeks colouring like her hair. "Well, it could have been accidental—"

But Niko stopped paying attention, his mind on the more relevant detail. Blown clean through? he asked, just as the crouching techs moved out of the way. The victim was completely naked, lying open to the world and the sun. A curling line of black and dark blue tattoos, like some kind of permanent livery collar, wove from his shoulders toward his collarbone. At the collarbone was a diamond-like pattern in his skin, tinted a much darker blue than the rest of his flesh. From where he stood, Niko had the impression of scar tissue, though he couldn’t say why. One arm extended out to his side while the other was bent over his chest, his hand hanging limply into a very large and bloodied hole at his centre. As though instinct had him trying to put pressure on the wound, to stem the flow of blood. But the blood was—minimal.

Niko paused, staring at the scene. The sight of the massive hole in the victim, with layers of skin and muscle and organs breached and destroyed by some unknown force, was so jarring, it was almost possible to overlook the lack of blood evidence present. Most of what was there had seeped directly into the sand beneath and around the victim’s body. But where Niko would have expected a bloodbath with this level of injury, there was barely enough for a spritzing.

He wasn’t killed here, Niko said, more to himself than anyone else. That would suggest a murder, wouldn’t it? He cocked a navy eyebrow up at Aspen. She blinked at him behind her glasses, looking somewhat flustered.

As I said, I have not completed— But she abruptly cut herself off, rolling her eyes and hanging her head. Okay, it’s like ninety percent certain he was murdered. But I will not claim that officially until I finish my examination and write my report!

We would never ask you to, Chief Baobab told her fondly, much like a father placating a child.

Niko bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes travelling over the length of the young man’s body. He was strikingly attractive, even in death. In the way that some people viewed fashion models and celebrities, the victim radiated a surreal kind of appeal. Without touching the body, Niko leaned in closer, stepping around the blood staining that did exist, to get a better view of the details of the scene.

No other noticeable wounds or marks on the body, apart from the primary injury to the chest, Dr. Aspen continued on, trying to regain the professionalism that served as her comfort. No defensive wounds to speak of on the hands or forearms. I have to examine his back more thoroughly to be sure, but the only other damage I could find to the body was focused in his ears.

So either he knew his attacker or it was a surprise, Niko murmured, or both. With a quick glance up at Aspen, Niko shuffled closer and crouched down by the victim’s head to examine his ears. A small trail of blood had dripped down there. But the blood wasn’t the most interesting part of the ears. The more relevant detail, to Niko, was that they were not pointed. He’s not Fae.

Dr. Aspen shook her head. No, she said. At best guess, he’s of Nimueh’s Court, but we can’t rule out Connor’s Court either. We’ll need more tests to determine—

I’ve never seen a Werewolf with tattoos like this, Niko said, the urge to run his fingertips over the lines of the printed collar rising with every moment. And collars are of particular importance in their culture. Maybe Wizard…but something seems off. Niko wiped one hand over the other palm, making a temporary trade of his physical touch for magical touch instead. He ran his newly enhanced hand through the air over the victim’s body, sensing for magical traits instead of physical ones. The magic on the air crackled and ruffled in the movement of his hand, pressing upward and downward at once, engulfing, swirling, both hot and cold. He had the sense of placing his hand inside a freezer and of moving his hand through a heavy current of water all at once. This isn’t like any magical signature I’ve ever felt. It doesn’t feel like Wizard.

He is no Wizard, a voice informed them. The sound was like waves on the sand, smooth and soothing, with just a hint of the rocky shells underneath. Niko straightened abruptly, his instincts fighting the calming effect of the voice immediately. With a quick glance back where he’d come from, Niko confirmed there was no one else joining them. But noticing the Captain and Chief’s reactions, he turned swiftly toward the ocean.

Standing calf-deep in the surf was a man. Niko was somewhat at a loss to describe him more fully than that, because the moment his eyes met the man’s, his mind and body were assaulted with images that set his entire being alight. Niko saw the man on him, pressing him roughly to the sand and penetrating him from behind, holding him close and steady, dragging his teeth over Niko’s shoulder, and causing Niko to cry out in ecstasy. In less than the time it took to blink, Niko felt himself grow hard, the bottom falling out of his stomach.

He released a silent, almost unnoticeable groan, urging his body’s reactions back in check. Through sheer force of will, he tamped down his erection and regained some of his dignity. Throat tight, jaw wired like a vise, Niko realized it was much too late in the game to pull out his gun. If this man had been a threat, they’d all already be dead. At the back of his mind, he realized that he wasn’t the only one who’d fallen prey to whatever strange trance this man triggered. Captain Baobab was only just stepping forward, in line with Niko, to confront the stranger. Chief Banyan was smoothing her skirt unconsciously, her eyes wide, and Dr. Aspen had nearly fallen into a swoon. The forensic techs were far enough away by now that they hadn’t even noticed anything behind them.

Who are you? How did you get over here? Captain Baobab asked, his tone quickly recovering from whatever visions had assaulted him. Niko finally managed to focus his mind enough to take in more details about the stranger.

He was tall and muscular, his shoulders broad, though not bulky. His face was a map of perfect planes and smooth skin. His eyes were alarmingly bright, even lighter than Niko’s, in a staggering crystal grey colour, and his hair, shaved very short at the sides but longer along the crest of his head, was silver-white. It moved on the air as though light as cloud. These details were even more striking against the rich, deep colour of his skin, like the sky on a clear night. Niko allowed his eyes to roam down the length of the man, unperturbed by clothing or obstacle. The man was nearly naked before them, wearing only a pair of skin-tight trunks in an iridescent aquamarine that matched the colour of the ocean around him.

As Niko scraped at the inner walls of his mind in search of the right word to describe this man, every term seemed to fall flat. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Hot. Attractive. Handsome. Sexy. Nothing seemed right. The best Niko’s addled brain could manage was magnetic. That and something else. Powerful. The kind of power he knew how to use. For precisely the right ends.

A not unpleasant shudder ran down Niko’s spine, and he clenched his jaw tightly, searching to quell the rush of blood to his nether regions. Again, his mind flooded with images of just how this man might have power over Niko. And exactly how Niko responded to that.

My name is Cobalt Sincloud, he said, nodding gently in deference to Captain Baobab. And I swam until I could stand, then I walked.

The Captain stared a moment. His expression shifted from confusion to frustration. This is supposed to be a closed crime scene, he said, sidestepping the answer he got previously. Who let you in?

Cobalt Sincloud, whoever he was, tilted his head minutely, glancing back over his shoulder at the open ocean. I did no pass any barriers, he said. Perhaps your officers did not anticipate a possible incursion from the waters, he offered as a possibility. Niko was having increasing difficulty understanding what this man was saying.

Chief Banyan stepped forward at this point, clearly past her limit of nonsense for one day. I am Chief Banyan of the Maeve’s Court Police Department, I am ranking officer on scene, and I demand that you explain yourself immediately. Who or what are you, and what connections do you have with this case?

The man nodded once to her as well, bowing slightly deeper than he had to the Captain. As he did, sunlight hit against something on his chest. There were lines written in black and blue and gold across his shoulders and collar bone, swirling and branching toward the dip below his neck, just like their victim. And there, at the centre of the lines, where the victim had a diamond-like pattern of scar tissue, Cobalt Sincloud had a pearlescent, oval blue stone set into his skin. The stone shimmered with contained magic that Niko could feel in his enhanced hand, even from several feet away. Unnerved, Niko swiped his hands together, making the trade again to get his regular sense of touch back.

Forgive me, Chief Banyan, he said carefully. I am a Selkie of the Northern Reef and Captain of the Royal Guard. And the man lying on the sand is the Prince.

Chapter 3

There were no words that came immediately to Niko’s mind. Save, perhaps, a string of curse words he didn’t think were particularly useful. There was so much to unpack in the few words Cobalt had spoken, Niko couldn’t decide where to begin. In the end, he settled on the main point that the other Fae gathered seemed to have snagged on. Selkies weren’t real. They were the stuff of legend.

Excuse me? said Chief Banyan.

Fascinating, Aspen mused.

Is this a joke? Captain Baobab said, and unfortunately all three of them spoke at precisely the same moment, essentially lobbing a cacophony of disbelief at Cobalt, self-proclaimed mythical creature.

Niko, meanwhile, stood silently considering him. There were perhaps a few advantages to be gained by lying here. If Cobalt Sincloud was involved in the death of their victim, then lying about being a Selkie might serve as an effective distraction. For a short while at least. But to what end? They had already discovered the body, already collected evidence and begun their analysis. There were police surrounding the area; it would have been called in to dispatch. Any telling evidence would already be on its way to the station with the forensic techs who departed before Cobalt arrived. And if Cobalt needed to escape the crime scene without becoming a person of interest, he certainly could have swum out beyond the limits of the crime scene tape or otherwise disappeared without the gathered police noticing him. They hadn’t, after all, noticed him coming up on them, had they?

But a lie as outrageous as ‘I’m a Selkie and so is your victim’ would serve only to draw more interest and scrutiny from the police. Which, to Niko, indicated that it wasn’t actually a lie. The only conclusions he could therefore draw of Cobalt were that either he was mentally unstable—possible—or else actually telling the truth—unlikely. Still, nothing else about Cobalt’s behaviour indicated he was suffering some kind of psychological break.

I understand this may be difficult to believe, Cobalt said, apparently seeking to assuage all of their concerns at once. He looked them each in the eye, one by one, his expression conceding the oddity of the situation. When he met Niko’s gaze, he lingered an added moment. Or was that just in Niko’s mind? Another trick of the strange visions he was having? And what caused those? Niko had been around his fair share of Wizards and Werewolves and had never experienced anything like it before.

I’ll say, Captain Baobab said, crossing his arms over his chest and making himself seem much larger than he was, suit or no suit. "This is some kind of ridiculous prank we don’t have time for. Selkies aren’t real."

I have not had enough coffee to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare that this case is becoming, Banyan said, more to herself than anyone else. She pressed a finely manicured nail to her temple and took a calculated breath through her nose.

It is no prank, Cobalt said, his tone remaining even despite the slightly ruffling of his hair at Baobab’s comment. And I assure you, Selkies are indeed very real.

I’m still asleep, Baobab said, staring out beyond Cobalt, then turning slowly to Niko, squinting at him as though he might see through him like a ghost. It’s the only explanation for today. I’m having some Ash-awful nightmare. No offense, Spruce. Though why would you take offense? You’re not even here.

This is unprecedented, Aspen chimed in, studying Cobalt from behind her clipboard the way a scientist might approach a new specimen. Not so much the way you would expect to approach another person. Forgive me, but can you prove yourself in some way?

A very long second passed where Cobalt stared at Dr. Aspen, and Niko shut his eyes and sucked the insides of his cheeks.

Prove myself? Cobalt asked, looking increasingly confused. His eyes travelled now and again to the body lying on the ground behind them, shielded by the Fae standing before him. He hadn’t moved from his position in the water since arriving. It was almost as though he’d simply manifested there.

How did you get here? Niko asked suddenly. Cobalt raised a silver-white eyebrow, glancing back over his shoulder at the water. He opened his mouth, no doubt to offer his previous answer, but Niko shook his head. I mean, how did you get here without any of us noticing you? We didn’t hear any splashes or unexpected sounds on the water. We didn’t see you until you spoke. How did you do that?

A light dawned in Cobalt’s bright eyes, and he nodded. I swam most of the way in Selkie form, under water. We move–differently–through the water than land-dwelling creatures. And in return, the water responds differently to us. He gestured to his feet, still fully submerged in the surf, and began to move forward. As he did, the water shifted effortlessly with him. Instead of his legs pushing through the water, it was as if the water carried his feet forward. There was no sound but that of the waves.

Fascinating, Aspen said again, and Baobab frowned.

I’m sure there is magic that can accomplish that, Banyan said.

Slightly frustrated, Cobalt’s expression flashed momentarily annoyed, but it was gone so quickly Niko wasn’t sure he’d read it correctly.

Possibly, he said, but I doubt magic would afford you gills like ours. That was enough to silence them all, and Cobalt gestured to his neck, turning his head to each side slowly. Along the curve of muscle, on either side, were three faint diagonal lines, almost like scars.

Can you show us how these gills function? Aspen asked, her eyes bright and her pen poised to scribble findings on her clipboard. Are they similar to shark gills? Or perhaps they function more similarly to whale blowholes? No, that doesn’t make much sense with the sizing and placement of them—

We don’t have time for show and tell, Baobab said, clearly past his limit now. Banyan, standing next to him with her lips pursed to the point of sucking them inward, looked as though she was about to burst an artery.

You said the victim was a Selkie, Niko said, trying to move things along. Would he have gills too?

Cobalt nodded slowly, his expression clouding over. He does, he said, and his eyes found the body again. Now that he is passed, the magic binding them closed in his land-walking form would have released. A hitch in his voice at the word ‘passed’ caught Niko’s attention, but he let it go for the moment.

Dr. Aspen? Niko asked pointedly, and she jumped to attention and rushed to the victim’s side, a stainless steel implement in hand. She crouched down and worried gently at the lines she found on his pallid, blueish skin. Niko chanced a glance back at Cobalt only to find him shutting his eyes, his jaw tight.

Oh my! They really are gills! Aspen cried out. When I first identified them I thought they might be scars, either from some old injury or some kind of superficial surgery for aesthetic reasons, because of the tattoos, but—

"Those are not tattoos, Cobalt said, suddenly right next to Niko. He stood in the shallows of the surf, only a few feet away from the body now. Niko was overwhelmed with the smell of the sea—salt and hot sand and clear air with a whisper of wet wood. Deciding it was probably from the waves behind them, Niko tried to brush off the feeling of freedom it suddenly instilled in him. They are his mantle. Every Selkie is born with unique markings that envelop the shoulders and collar, known as a mantle. At the centre of the mantle lies our Soul Stone, which—"

His words cut off abruptly, his entire demeanour changing. Tightness spread out from his shoulders to his limbs, and his eyes widened when he actually saw the full scale of the injuries to the body. Some kind of instinct overtook him, causing him to reach out with one hand, but he caught himself. Fingers balling to a fist before he slowly dropped his arm back to his side, Cobalt seemed to be lost for a moment.

What is it? Baobab said, apparently more willing to buy the Selkie story now they had some more convincing evidence. Have we missed something?

Cobalt collected himself, and Niko watched the effort of his will travelling over every inch of his body. He was perfectly in charge of himself, and a frisson passed down Niko’s spine.

His Soul Stone is gone, Cobalt said, averting his eyes from the body a moment. Then, as though deciding he would not be conquered by it, he turned his attention back to the victim and stared directly at the chest wound.

Is that important? Banyan asked.

Cobalt’s gaze passed slowly over the body toward Banyan, offering her a withering look, before returning to the remains of what he called a Prince. Yes, he said. Every Selkie is born with a Soul Stone. It is believed all our magic, all of our Soul is contained within the confines of the Stone. Here he pressed the tips of his fingers to the edge of the blue oval stone on his chest. It flickered with added light for a moment, more beautiful than anything Niko had ever seen. We and it are born of the Great Reef, and when a Selkie dies, both are returned to the Reef so that our Soul and Song might live on, until the time another is born to claim it. He pressed his lips together, his eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. Niko followed his gaze to the face of the victim. What was their victim to Cobalt? Just a Prince to a guard? Or something more? To deny the rite of passing to the Selkie is to deny them eternal life or rebirth. It is a betrayal of the deepest kind. He turned to the Captain and the Chief, his expression set. I must retrieve Prince Indigo’s Soul Stone and return it to the Reef with his body.

Captain Baobab’s eyebrows shot up, his expression almost comical. This Soul Stone you speak of may very well be evidence in the possible murder of this man, he said. "We will investigate the case as usual, and should we come upon the Stone, and should it have no bearing on our case, then the Stone will be turned over to any next of kin. If the Stone does have bearing on our case, then it will be stored in evidence until the case is closed and all possible avenues of prosecution are exhausted. At that time, the Stone will be return—"

That is unacceptable, Cobalt said, and his tone implied there was no negotiating the subject. Chief Banyan did not take kindly to that.

I’m afraid that is how it will have to be, she said firmly. Barring royal intervention, the law clearly states—

Ah yes, Cobalt said, walking back through the water several feet until he found something in the shallows. Reaching down, he picked up what appeared to be a bag of some kind. The surface was silvery-blue, like the trunks he wore, and reflected light like the surface of the ocean. From within the bag, he drew out a badge of some kind, adorned in gold and encrusted with pearls and some kind of opal-like stones Niko had never seen before, as well as what looked remarkably like a scroll. It was tied with sparkling green thread, and the paper—if that’s what it was—shone like mica in the sun. I think this will satisfy the requirement of royal intervention.

He handed the scroll to Banyan and the badge to Baobab. Each took what was offered to them as though in a haze. Banyan unfurled the scroll, which might have been made of some kind of plant-life, though Niko couldn’t identify it. As she read, her face steadily lost colour.

This—this is an ordinance…from the King of the Selkies? Banyan asked, half-way between disbelief and exhaustion. Cobalt nodded. She nodded along slowly, because of course it was. King Azure has, apparently, instilled royal authority into the Captain of the Royal Guard, one Cobalt Sincloud, to act as an intermediary and investigator on the matter of his son’s, Prince Indigo of the Vast Reefs, disappearance. Cobalt is to represent the interests and rights of Selkie law while on land and for the duration of any investigations regarding Indigo or his associates. Banyan stared at the scroll for several moments before shaking her head and saying to no one, This case is a jurisdictional nightmare.

Not at all, Cobalt reassured. As whatever happened occurred within the borders of your Court, you are rightly the lead investigators on the matter.

Niko did not like the direction this was taking. Cobalt’s presence next to him was increasingly unsettling, the flashes of inappropriate imagery in his head growing more erratic and apparently uncontrollable. He did not know why Cobalt had this effect on him, but it certainly wouldn’t do to have to—

And your involvement in the case will be? Baobab asked.

I shall partner with your lead investigator, Cobalt answered.

That. That was what Niko was afraid of. He’d been working alone for years now, and it served him well. Since his last major case—well, Niko just operated better on his own. Alone, he didn’t have to worry about someone else’s limits and decision-making. He could do what needed doing without needing to explain himself or justify his actions. It’s why he worked so well undercover.

Baobab turned his attention to Niko. Niko fought the urge to grimace. His jaw tight, Niko waited for Baobab to make his decision. With a steady look, Baobab considered both of them.

The scroll seems genuine, Banyan said. I’ll have to confer with our regional Councilman to work out the logistics of how to proceed in terms of legality and what this might mean for the Three Courts Treaty, but as it stands now, he is an official representing a separate Court…

Baobab sighed. I guess that settles it, he said, offering Niko what might have been an apologetic look. Niko cracked his neck to one side. You best get yourselves down to the station to make it official.

Cobalt nodded. Who is to be my partner, then?

Baobab nodded toward Niko, who maintained his stony expression for his official introduction. This is Detective Niko Spruce. Probably the best detective we’ve got, if lacking in some other regards.

Unruffled by the prod, Niko merely nodded at Cobalt. His crystal-grey eyes drawing a long, slow line up and down Niko’s frame, Cobalt’s expression quivered with something. Another flash of Cobalt on top of him, pushing into Niko and biting his neck, and Niko tensed. Nice to meet you, Cobalt said, offering his hand.

Niko stared at the Selkie’s outstretched palm and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He nodded once more, with something like a grunt, and made to leave the crime scene.

Come on, he said. We’ve got work to do. Barely surprised, Cobalt took one longing look back at the victim before following Niko along the beach. His unshod feet moved much more easily over the sand than Niko’s boots, which annoyed Niko. But first, Niko said, you’re going to need to put on some clothes.

Chapter 4

His car sat right where he left it in the beach parking lot in one of the prime parking spots. As the sun edged its way toward its zenith in the sky and the warmth of the morning broiled up toward a cooking heat, the lot should have filled up with vehicles and tourists looking for some real estate on the sand to soak in the rays. Most citizens of Maeve’s Court would be heading in from the beach at this point, looking for a shady spot to get a drink and some lunch and to wait out the peak of midday heat. But thanks to the crime scene, Sickle Beach’s car park was completely empty save for police vehicles.

A temperature controlled truck marked Coroner pulled up on the opposite side of the lot. The man behind the wheel hopped out the side closest to Niko and Cobalt, waving distantly as he spotted Niko. His partner was already around the back of the truck, opening the rear doors and pulling out a stretcher and cover. Niko half-waved back at the pair, realizing that a nod probably wasn’t terribly visible from this distance. In another life, he’d been on friendly terms with the Coroner’s assistants and lab techs. But after his last case, after the examinations they’d put him through, he couldn’t quite help but pull back. There were some things you just didn’t want your coworkers knowing about you.

Pressing the automatic unlock button on his keyring, Niko paused at the edge of the sand and considered the black asphalt ahead of them. With a glance at Cobalt’s shoeless feet, he looked up at the Selkie. Cobalt was studying the Coroner’s truck and the men as they made their way over the barrier and toward the crime scene along the beach. When he drew his eyes away from them and found Niko staring at him, he raised his eyebrows in question.

Have you been to Maeve’s Court before? Niko asked, though he was relatively certain of the answer.

Cobalt met his gaze without hesitation or discomfort. It unsettled Niko. Most people not law enforcement themselves had difficulty doing so. Perhaps the Royal Guard in—what would they call it? Azure’s Court?—were similar to police.

I have not had the pleasure, he said, though I have travelled Nimueh’s Court rather extensively.

That, Niko had not expected. He considered this information carefully. The fact that Prince Indigo of no last name, apparently heir to the Selkie Court, was found on Maeve’s Court land indicated that he had been travelling Maeve’s Court for some reason or another. The fact that the authorities only found out about this via his death and probable murder indicated he was doing so secretly. That Cobalt had travelled Nimueh’s Court, but no Wizard or Witch Niko knew of had ever mentioned the existence of Selkies being a reality, suggested that Nimueh’s people did not know of Cobalt’s travels any more than Maeve knew of Indigo’s. Which begged the question of why? Why was a foreign kingdom sending people to travel their lands without official announcement? Why were the Selkies so secretive in the first place? And why would they come forward with their existence now specifically? Was Indigo’s death a situation remarkable enough for them to break their centuries of silence?

Putting all those unanswered questions aside, Niko brought himself back to the matter at hand.

I imagine in order to do that you needed access to clothing, Niko said, hoping Cobalt would come to the appropriate conclusion on his own.

For the most part, he said, which gave Niko pause. But as he did not elaborate, Niko was forced to ask.

"So, do you have clothes?"

An expression of subtle amusement played around Cobalt’s lips. Again, a flash of explicit images flooded Niko’s mind. He looked away abruptly.

When Cobalt spoke, there was a tinkle of mischief in his words which told Niko he knew, at least to some degree, the effect he was having. I was under the impression Maeve’s Court was rather liberated in terms of clothing restrictions.

Niko’s jaw tightened. His fingers pressed into the grooves of his keys. Suit yourself, he said, turning determinately away from Cobalt and walking toward his car. Heat radiated in waves off the surface of the roof and hood. You want to stay half-naked, stay half-naked. But I’d put shoes on if I were you. The white sand might not be painful, but the asphalt will probably burn your feet at this time of day.

Swinging open the doors to his side of the car to air out the intense heat built up inside, Niko walked around to the passenger side to do the same. When he looked back at Cobalt, he found him looking only mildly put out as he rummaged in his iridescent bag. Eventually he pulled out a pair of pristine, dark blue, flat-soled sneakers, light-wear brown khaki pants, and a blue button-down shirt. He set them carefully atop the bag on the ground, then proceeded to peel off the iridescent swim trunks he was wearing.

Niko froze, staring in disbelief as Cobalt got fully naked in the middle of a public parking lot. Again, Niko’s mind supplied a wealth of images, now helpfully adjusted with new information. Cobalt was toned and muscular everywhere, and just as Niko felt himself tracing the length and outline of Cobalt’s cock with his eyes, he snapped himself back to reality.

What the fuck are you doing? he asked, almost as alarmed by his own reaction as he was by Cobalt’s decision.

Cobalt looked up, having stepped into a pair of soft-looking boxer briefs he only half-managed to pull up his legs. Completely unbothered by the display he was making of himself, he cocked a silver eyebrow at Niko.

You suggested I dress, he said simply, and Niko shut his eyes in frustration.

I meant for you to do it privately, Niko gritted out.

Cobalt glanced around. There is no one around, he said.

Niko was going to have an embolism before the day was out, he was sure. There are laws against public nudity, he responded, as Cobalt pulled his boxers up the rest of the way, flattening the band against his lower stomach. Niko’s mouth felt thick.

Do you wish to issue me a citation? Cobalt asked, the note of mischief back in his voice and on his features. Niko felt the muscles in his back tighten, every motion an effort of will. Or is this a crime worthy of arrest? He offered up