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"It's ricin," Elrick says, tossing the bagged white rose on the table in the main room of the lab.

"What's that?," Jacob asks from his seat next to me.

"A concentrated protein extracted from a castor bean," Elrick answers, taking a seat next to Selina across from us. "It's highly lethal and there is no known cure."

"But I feel fine," Selina assures us, pointing to herself. "Are you sure it wasn't just pollen or something?"

"Definitely not," Elrick replied, shaking his head at the table. "You feel fine because the protein hasn't spread to your heart yet."

"What are the symptoms?," I asked.

"Giving the fact that she inhaled the ricin," Elrick explained, "in a couple of hours, she should start experiencing respiratory distress, fever, harsh coughing, nausea, and tightness in the chest. And that's just the beginning."

"What do we do?," I questioned further.

"Monitor her health, for now," Elrick says. "When the ricin protein reaches her heart, it'll basically commandeer her blood cells and neutralize their ability to produce the proteins her body actually needs. When that happens, without the proteins, her cells will begin to die off."

"Then what?," Selina asks.

"A number of things could happen," Elrick said. "Pulmonary edema, low blood pressure, respiratory failure. None of which is likely to end well."

"So what do we do?," I asked again.

"The best option, or rather our only option is to flush her system as quickly as possible," Elrick told us. "I'll give her a scheduled amount of cleansing medication. When the symptoms begin, I'll have to provide her with the proteins she's missing and the cleansing meds. Once her condition begins to worsen, she could seize into a coma or, worse, she could seize into respiratory failure in which case the only way to keep her alive is to pump the oxygen directly into her lungs until we've flushed out the ricin. From there, all we can do is pray."

"Elrick, be honest with me," Selina says, staring at the table then looking up to him, "what are the odds I'll live?"

"Slim," Elrick says, unable to look her in the eye. "We can't be sure of what exactly will happen until it happens. But that doesn't mean it's impossible, there have been few cases in which the patients survived the poisoning and came out as perfectly healthy as they were before."

"There must be something we can do, dammit!," I complained, smashing a fist into the table. "Anything, I refuse to let her die."

"I'm sorry, Nathaniel, but mankind does have its limitations," Elrick says. "I will do all I can to ensure her recovery. We can only wait."

"Then I'm staying here," I announced. "You guys didn't leave me when I was lying on my deathbed, I won't leave her."

"You have to, Nate," Selina told me with a sad smile. "Anthony is expecting you to solve this case for him, you can't let him down."

"The hell I can't!," I argued, shooting her a look. "He'll get over it, it wouldn't be the first time."

"Nate," Selina calmly says.

"I'll be damned if I give two shits about what happened to a dead man when you're literally about to deprive yourself to death," I said, jamming my finger down on the table. I looked back down at the table and sighed. "Just because I wasn't paying attention."

"This wasn't your fault, Nate," Selina says, reaching over the table to hold my hand. "How could you have known?"

"We knew it was poison," I said, pointing a finger, "we knew it was somewhere in his home or workplace and we knew something like this would happen if we weren't careful. The only thing I was wrong about was the contact poison."

"What do you mean?," Jacob asks.

"Ricin isn't usually absorbed through the skin," I informed him. "I don't know a lot about it but I know it's only lethal if inhaled or ingested. Skin and eye contact will mostly burn and itch like hell."

"You're right, Nate," Selina says, calling back my attention. "We knew all those things, that's why it's not your fault, it's mine. I was the one looking for the poison, I should have been more careful, I should have -

"Just stop!," I yelled. "I'm not going anywhere, bottom line! Not until I know you're going to be okay."

"Nathaniel," Elrick calls to me. I looked over to him. "Go make your report to Anthony. I'll start giving her the cleansing medication but there is nothing more any of us can do. When the symptoms hit, I'll have Jacob here with us, he's learned more than enough from me to help handle the situation."

"Elrick, I -

"I'm not asking," Elrick calmly cuts me off. "As long as you're here escalating the situation, you're only speeding up the process."

"How the fuck do you figure that?," I questioned with attitude.

"The yelling and arguing is accelerating her heart rate," Elrick tells me as he crossed his arms. "I don't have to feel for her pulse to know that. You're a intelligent man, Nathaniel, you tell me what'll happen if the pace keeps."

"It'll flow through her system faster and reach her heart sooner than we think," Jacob answers for me, looking at me with critisicing eyes. "He's right, Nate, you're not helping here, as much as you want to, you can't. Let us handle it and find the mother fucker who did this."

I took in Jacob's words as I spared passing glances between him, Elrick and, mostly, Selina. I don't want her to die. I can't watch her die and do nothing. I have an anvil of guilt weighing down on my shoulders and its heavier than anything I've had to carry as baggage. If Selina dies, I won't be able to live with it, it's too much.

"Please, Nate," Selina urges me with the same sad smile. "I'll be fine. I'm a tough bitch, remember?"

"Go do your job, son," Elrick says. "We'll be right here at her side through it all."

I sighed, dropped my head to the table and dug my claws into the back of my head. "God dammit, fine!," I finally gave in, throwing my hands into the air. "I'll go make my report but I'm coming right back." And with that, I rose from my seat, stormed off towards the door and disappeared behind the smoothed wood and metal.

How did I let this happen? From the beginning, I've been fearful for her safety being involved in this new mixed up world of mine. Given, the girl can handle herself like a champ, but her training isn't going to help her survive this. My training isn't going to help her survive this. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do and it's killing me as much as it is her.

I swear to God, if she dies because of some stupid prick, I'll kill him. Someone. Someone else will die if she does.

As I had made my way to the first floor of the castle and stormed off down different corridors, I realized while I was bitching in my head, I must have turned an unfamiliar corner. I have no idea where I am.

I stopped and looked ahead of me. A long spacious stone hallway riddled with red and gold silk curtains hanging on the wall above paintings like the ones in Trevor's house accompanied by an enormous red rug that stretched the length of the hallway just like every other corridor in this giant building. I looked behind me. It's exactly the same.

"God dammit!," I hollered to no one, echoing my voice through the halls and throwing my hands in the air again, "Can't we get some directional signs put up in here or something?"

"You get yourself lost again?," a familiar female voice asks.

I looked behind me to see the Queen standing at the center of an intersection between two corridor, staring my way in her elegant posture.

How does she always pop up when I'm lost?

"'Fraid so, My Lady," I reply, bowing as she began to approach me. "Don't suppose you could help a guy out?"

"Of course, darling," she says with a smile. "Where are you headed?"

"Anthony's office," I told her. "I have some vital information about a case he's had me looking into."

"Very well," the Queen says then turns back around, "follow me."

I power walked up to her side and synced our pace as she lead me through unfamiliar territory. As we went, I caught her passing disturbed glances my way. At first, I thought she was just trying to remember my name or something but it clearly was more than that.

"Is something wrong, My Lady?," I asked, sparing her my eyes.

"Anthony informed my husband and I of your involvement in the case and the details thus far," the Queen tells me. "Henry seemed to be quite intrigued but I am not as enthusiastic about it as he is. Have you ever handled an investigation like this before?"

"No," I admitted, watching the paintings on the wall pass by as we walked, "but I have a good idea of how to go about it."

"And how has it worked out for you?," she curiously asks, looking over to me.

"Not as well as I could have hoped," I said, averting my gaze down to the carpet passing under my feet.

"Oh?," the Queen questions, "How so?"

"Well, we found the poison used to kill Trevor," I told her, "turns out it's ricin, a very lethal powder with no cure."

"How was he poisoned to begin with?," she continues to question as she cuts a corner. "I'm quite curious with all this talk about contact poisoning."

"Actually, we were wrong about the contact poison," I replied. "Ricin is only lethal if inhaled or ingested. We found it sprinkled over the petals of a vase of white roses."

"Clever," the Queen mumbles to herself then looks at me again with a raised eyebrow. "Correct me if I'm wrong but shouldn't this be good news? You're now that much closer to solving the puzzle."

I sighed heavily then stared back down at the ground. "Well, it would be," I finally responded, "but one of my teammates inhaled the ricin by mistake while we were searching Trevor's home."

The Queen looked at me with empathy and held a hand to her mouth when I said those words. "The winged wolf I assume?," she asks. I nodded and the expression on her face grew sadder. "That poor girl... Please give her my condolences."

"I will, Madam," I assured her.

"I can only imagine how this effects you," the Queen said.

"She's much more than my teammate, My Lady," I explained. "She's a very dear friend. If we lose her, I may never forgive myself for letting it happen."

"You cannot place the blame where it is not welcome, Nathaniel," the Queen warned me, waving a finger.

I guess she does remember my name.

"Whether she lives or dies, neither of you are responsible," she continued.

"I understand," I replied, looking away back to the wall. "I just don't want to watch her die. I don't want her to die, period."

"And she doesn't want to die but that doesn't rule it out as a possibility," the Queen points out. "Worrying over something where you have no control will achieve nothing. Focus on what you are here to do, do it, then you can stand at her side."

"Why can't I do both?," I ask in all seriousness, turning another corner as I begin to recognize the sequence of paintings on the wall. "I feel so useless not being there for her."

"Tell me something, darling," the Queen says, "why are you not there now?"

"Because Elrick banned me from seeing her," I said with slight attitude towards the Old Man.

"And why do you think he did that?," she asks again.

"He thinks I'll get over emotional and worsen her condition," I answer again.

"And you don't think he's right?," the Queen asks once more, glancing over to me.

"I'm not sure I can answer that, My Lady," I said. "I don't want to believe he's right but a part of me is saying he is."

"That's because he IS right," she exclaims. "Listen to your elders, darling, we're smarter than you think."

I chuckled lightly and managed to work out a vague smile. "I'll keep that in mind," I replied.

"If there's anything I can do to help, just send the word," she tells me then looks straight ahead as she turns down another hallway. "But stay focused. The more you worry for her, the less good it does for everyone."

"I understand, Madam," I acknowledged.

"Do you have any other news?," she asks.

"Just one thing," I said reaching into my pocket. I pulled out a small zip lock baggie with a rectangular piece of white construction paper trapped airtight within. It had been folded in half to fit between the flower stems and on one side, the paper is blank, the other is riddled with red ink. I handed the baggie to her. "We found this in the vase with the roses."

The Queen scanned the blank side for a second then flipped the baggie around and read the red words on the other side out loud, "'From ME to you'. Why is 'me' in all capitals?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "I'm hoping Anthony can provide some insight."

"Well then, I can only wish you the best of luck, darling," the Queen says, stopping midway through the corridor in front of a wooden door like Elrick's. She handed the bag back to me and I slipped it back into my pocket. "I will pray for Selina tonight. You find the bastard who did this and he will meet justice."

"Of course, My Lady," I replied with another bow. "I intend to find him. I WILL find him."

The Queen smiled one last time and waved to me as she double backed the way she had lead me. I watched her until she disappeared around the corner then stared at the door in front of me. In shiny silver letters it read, "Admiral O'Heir", across the top of the door.

His last name is O'Heir? Eh, suits him, I guess.

I knocked three times.

"Enter," Anthony's Irish voice calls from the other side.

I turned the knob, walked in, closed the door and sat in a chair across from Anthony's desk where he sat scribbling on a piece of paper. I waited for him to say something. I waited longer than I was expecting to so I cleared my throat to grab his attention.

"One minute," Anthony said with an inflicting tone.

I cleared my throat again, much more obnoxiously.

"Dammit, I said," - Anthony began to yell as he lifted his head and looked into my eyes - "Nathaniel," he calmly recognized. "Forgive me, I didn't know it was you."

"You're fine, Admiral," I assured him, leaning back in my seat.

"How is Selina?," he asked me, leaning forward with genuine sorrow for her.

"Fine, for now," I told him. "She has about two hours before she starts the symptoms, give or take."

"What happened?," he asks.

"Twitch and Cole didn't tell you?," I replied with a question.

"No," Anthony shakes his head. "They simply said she had been poisoned and where you found the poison, nothing more."

Jesus Christ, the ignorance of some people.

"We found the poison mixed with the pollen of a vase of white roses," I explained. "Neither of us were paying attention to what she was doing and it just... happened."

"So it is not a contact poison?," he assumes.

"No, it has to be inhaled or ingested to kill," I said.

"What is it?," he asks.

"It's ricin."

"Can it be treated?"

"Treated, not cured."

"Known survival rate?"

"Single digits."

"Then she will be lost to us," Anthony finalizes, looking down in depression.

"DO NOT FUCKING SAY THAT!," I screamed at him, jumping from my seat and slamming my hands down on his desk. "She will NOT die! She's stronger than that and you damn well know it! Even considering the idea is an insult!"

"Are you telling me you haven't?," Anthony questioned in a calm voice. I instantly fell for a loss of words. "I do not want to believe that she will succumb to this ricin, she is a sweet lass, but I am prepared to accept it as an inevitability. A military life requires such sacrifice on the field. Can you say that you are prepared for her passing?"

No. No, I can't.

"I'll take the silence as a no," Anthony said. "It appears I have a few things to teach you as well."

"Well, ain't that just fuckin' ironic," I sarcastically replied, falling back into my seat with irritation.

"Calm down, son," Anthony told me with a stern voice this time. "This does not have to become a conflict."

"I'm sorry," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose and holding a hand up to him. "I'm sorry, I just feel so much at fault. You're right, Anthony, I can't make that sacrifice. If it kills her, it'll kill me."

"I hope that was a figurative comment," Anthony said.

"Don't be stupid," I told him.

"This obviously isn't helping," Anthony announced, "let's just get to work. What else did you find other than the ricin?"

"This," I said, reaching into my pocket and tossing the baggie with the construction paper on his desk. "It was with the roses."

Anthony picked up the baggie and looked straight at the red words scribbled on one side. "What the bloody - why is 'me' capitalized?," he questioned, looking at the riddle with confusion.

"No idea," I reply, looking away. "I was hoping we could figure something out together."

"Hm...," Anthony scratched his chin as he stared at the four red words on the sealed piece of paper. "Perhaps it is an alias of some kind. Or maybe initials to one."

"Making the killer obvious to the victim but oblivious to us," I added as I scratched the back of my head. "That makes sense but why would Trevor accept anything from the guy whose trying to kill him? Let alone, smell it."

"He might not have known he was being targeted," Anthony suggested. "They could have been friends and, for some reason, the killer turned on him."

"Well, that's one theory based off a piece of paper," I said, unenthusiastically.

"Well, don't get too excited," Anthony sarcastically said.

"What do you want to do, Admiral?," I asked him, refusing to go off subject.

"I think I will take a look through some of our criminal records," he replies, setting the bagged note aside and opening a drawer of his desk. "See if I can't tie this M.E. to any of our known assailant's alias'."

"Good luck with that," I said as he pulled out a file as thick as a dictionary.

Holy shit. I didn't think Canniban had THAT much criminal activity.

"What about me?," I asked.

"Wouldn't you rather be at Selina's side?," Anthony questioned.

"Of course," I reply.

"Then why aren't you?," he questions further.

"Because I came here to do my job," I enunciated.

"Yes, I get that," he said, impatiently staring at me, "I meant why aren't you on your way there now? I have nothing more you can help with until we've found another lead."

"Elrick won't let me back into the lab," I said, trying to avoid the subject. "There has to be something. I didn't just watch one of my best friends poison herself to sit back and watch everyone else but me do something to help the situation. Give me SOMETHING, Anthony, if the guilt doesn't kill me, the anxiety will."

"Uh...," Anthony mumbled as he searched himself for an idea. "I guess you could handle the interrogations. I just sent Cole down to the courtroom to do just that a minute or two before you came in."

"They STILL haven't gotten that done?," I asked, feeling my eyes pop out of my head then quickly waving off the question. "You know what, don't answer that, I'll do it."

"You do know you'll be speaking for the King, right?," he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You can't just mindlessly blurt out questions, they must be dignified and to a point."

"No, I didn't know that," I said, feeling quite nervous now.

"Still want the task?," Anthony asks. I grasped my confidence and nodded. "Get moving then, the King, the Queen, the Council and four colorful individuals are all waiting on you."

"With gusto," I replied as I stood from my chair. I nodded to him and walked out, closing his office door behind me.

Colorful individuals? I hope I don't regret this.

I began to make my way to the courtroom, paying attention to my direction this time. I don't need to get lost again. While I walked, I began to think ahead of the things I'd ask.

Dignified and to a point, huh? If that's the case, I could just stick to the basic things. Where were you at the time, who was with you, what were you doing, who can confirm your alibi, those kinds of questions. I doubt that's what the King would expect of me though. If I want to impress him, I'm going to have to think outside of the box. But what could I ask? It has to be relative to the investigation yet at the same time, completely unexpected. If the individual is lying, then they would have rehearsed they're alibi continuously until they've memorized it.

What if I asked something that corresponds with the investigation but not their alibi?

That could work, they wouldn't see it coming right off the bat. Neither would the King. But I can't just ask all four the same questions. I get the feeling Anthony meant something more when he said, "colorful" so I should choose my words carefully with each interrogation. The better reading I get from these people, the better off I am so I think I'll begin with the casual details first, those that have no relation to the interrogation whatsoever, get to know them, basically, so I can determine what questions to ask whatever type of person they are. That might annoy some of the Council members but I believe the King, or even the Queen, would find enough interest in my approach to overrule their bitching. Then I can switch to those about the investigation and mix in a little towards their alibi.

Hmm....

"Fuck it," I said aloud to myself as I turned a corner, "I'll wing it."

Around the next bend ahead I found the spiral stone staircase leading down to the courtroom floor. I cruised down the steps, flashing back for just a moment to when I literally ran into Anthony on these stairs. I think I might have felt the pain of rolling down a flight like I did as I stomped downward followed by a disturbing chill of deja vu. Within moments, the feeling passed and I stepped down onto the carpeted surface of the castle's first floor that looked no different than the ones above.

The King should think about remodelling.

I turned the corner where I ran into the knight who called me a kid and travelled across the balcony then down the large stone stairway in the middle of the wide open room. I then turned hard at the bottom and into the tunnel of the hall outside the courtroom underneath those very steps. At the end in front of the large bolt locking doors, I saw Cole confirming his entry with the guards.

"Cole," I called to him as I jogged down the tunnel to the doors.

"Nathaniel?," Cole seemed surprised to see me as he turned his attention from the guards to me. "How is Miss Selina?"

"Let's not get into that right now," I told him. "If you really wanna know, ask Anthony."

"Alright," Cole replied. "Then what can I do for you, sir?"

"Sir?," one of the unfamiliar guards, a very large hippo, with more fat than muscle, repeated. "The hell do you mean sir, who is this kid?"

What did he just say?

I shot my eyes directly at the guard with an instant glare of rage burning in my pupils. I felt Cole grab my arms with a tight grip as I lunged at him. "Call me kid again and see what happens, you beached whale!," I yelled at him, baring my fangs and pulling on Cole's grasp.

"Leave it be, sir!," Cole tells me, pulling back a little harder. "He doesn't know who you are!"

"I'm getting so sick of being called kid," I complained, giving the hippo a death stare as I slowly eased back and shook Cole's grip off of me.

"Why do you keep calling this, KID, sir?," the hippo asked Cole, looking at me as he emphasized.

How is HE even a soldier? He barely fits in the uniform!

"I will eat you," I said to him in a low, intimidating voice, staring with the same enraged dead eyes. "I will jam a rod up your fat, blubbery ass, tie you to a tree log, hang you over a camp fire, cook you till you're crispy and brown and chew the meat off you're bones like a kabob as I piss in your eye socket." I took a step forward and leaned in an inch away from his face. "Call me a kid again."

The hippo began to open his mouth. Then I felt Cole grab my arm, pull me away again and hold a hand up to him. "If you say it again, he will hurt you," Cole calmly said to him. "The Admiral gave an order only a few hours ago to treat this man as our superior while he's working this case so I can only assume you two haven't gotten the memo yet. If you value your well being, you will keep your mouths shut and do as he says."

"Take the advice," I said in a cocky attitude, one much like Jacob's. "And be thankful you're not burning alive."

"I... am sorry?," the hippo stutters as he shrugs. "I don't get why Anthony would put him in charge. How do I know this isn't some ploy?"

"Are you fucking retarded?," I asked with Jacob's attitude. "Do you seriously want to find out why he gave me authority?"

"Yes, I do," the hippo insisted.

Cole held a finger up to the hippo again. "No, you don't," Cole insisted to him.

"No, step aside, Cole," I told him, walking back up to the hippo. I held my hand out to him like I wanted to shake. "Give me your hand."

"Why?," the hippo questioned.

"You want to see what the Irishman sees in me, right?," I reminded. "Give me your hand." The hippo lifted an eyebrow and placed his large palm against mine. He locked his grip like he expected me to shake but instead I tightened mine.

"What are you doing?," the hippo asked.

I said nothing. Instead, I tightened my grip harder as I stared blankly into his eyes.

"Okay, so you gotta strong grip," the hippo said, shrugging again.

I tightened again but this time with great force, enough to feel his knuckles crack and pop under the pressure.

"Ah, dammit!," the hippo shouted, trying to pull away.

Each time he pulled I tightened more and more. My grip had become so firm, the veins in my arm practically popped out of my skin and showed through my fur. The hippo started to pull harder and began to panic under the crushing dull pain.

"Apologize or I break it," I told him with utmost certainty, staring at him kneeling on the ground in agony.

"I'm sorry!," the hippo pleaded, pulling and tugging under the grip. "I'm sorry!"

"I don't buy it," I replied, kneeling down and locking my hold on him. I lifted his chin to meet my eyes with his shocked ones and gave Cole an oblivious look. "Remind me, who did the boss man put in charge again?"

"You, sir," Cole replied calmly with a slight hysterical grin.

I guess he finds this funny.

"And what did Anthony tell you when he informed you of my authority?," I asked as the hippo continued to cower.

"That you could, and I quote, 'tear us apart with your pinky finger', unquote," Cole replied again.

"Funny, that's exactly what he told the last soldier who disrespected me," I pointed out, looking back down to the hippo still forced under my other hand to look back at me. "So tell me, hippo, who could tear you apart with his pinky finger?"

"You can, Jesus, I'm sorry, let me go!," the overweight knight pleaded.

I released my grip and let him fall to his knees and elbows, attempting to sooth the pain in his hand. "And that is where arrogance gets you," I said to him. "You got a problem with it, talk to Anthony." I looked over to the other guard, a short, skinny sloth who looks like he has more energy than he should. "You have anything to say?," I asked him.

"No, sir!," he announced, stamping his foot on the ground, placing a hand on the handle of his sheathed blade and looking ahead at attention.

"Good," I said then turned back to Cole, "now then, Cole, I'm taking your place in these interrogations. I still want you to go in with me, though, you've had experience in this type of thing and I want your input."

"Not a problem," Cole smiled. "You're the boss."

I'm definitely enjoying this too much.

I smiled then cocked my head to the side. "By the way, what took you so long to get down here?," I asked him. "Not that it's an issue, I'm just curious. According to Anthony, you were already in route when the Queen started making her way here."

"Truthfully, sir," Cole grinned, "I stopped by the castle's greenhouse to catch a buzz first. My wife's brother is the 'head chef', as he likes to call himself, and I'm pretty close with my in-laws."

"Interesting," I said with a smile as I chuckled at Cole's prioritizing skills.

This guy.

I nodded at the sloth to unlock and open the doors to let us in. He pounded on the doors three times then the bolts on the other side were heard clanking and grinding against other metal. I watched the hippo slowly rise to his feet and look at me in astonishment then to Cole as the door was pushed open from the inside.

Maybe I should tone it back a notch.

"I warned you," Cole told him then followed behind me as I walked through the door.

The large hunks of wood thudded behind us as they closed, clanked some more as they locked then all fell silent as Cole and I approached the King and Queen sitting in their jeweled thrones. The only others in the enormous courtroom were the other two knights guarding the inside of the courtroom's doors. We approached the foot of their elevated royal pedestals and bowed in unison.

"Nathaniel," the King acknowledged me with a smile. "I had a feeling Anthony would send you. How are you?"

"I've had better days, My Lord," I answered, rising to my feet with Cole.

"Haven't we all," the Queen asks, making more of a statement than a question.

"And how are you today, Cole?," the King asked, looking to him standing at my side.

"I'm afraid I've had better days as well, Sire," Cole says. "Today's events have taken a toll on many of us."

"Yes, I assume you mean the young woman, Selina, in particular" the King said then shifted back to me. "My wife told me what you told her, Nathaniel. Truly, I am sorry this has happened."

"Much obliged, My Lord," I said with another lazy bow. "I'm sorry, too. I'm terrified for her."

"I can understand, son," the King says. "She is very dear to you and your compassion is admirable. But do not let your concern for her well being distract you. Remember what you are here for."

"Of course, Sire," I respond. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Very well," the King said with a nod. "Our first guest is a very eccentric man. His name is Caesar Draufht, Trevor's uncle and only living relative."

"Eccentric like how, if you don't mind my asking?," I questioned, raising a finger.

"Well...," the King mumbled then looked over to his spouse.

The Queen looked over to her husband and realized he was at a loss for words then looked back at me. "Let's say he's very excitable," she tells me. "Keeping his attention might be a challenge."

"Good thing I like to challenge myself," I reply with a smile. "What else can you tell me about him?"

"He's forty-nine, not too much older than Trevor,", the King continued. "He's self employed as a small time chef for the failing restaurant his father left him in his will, he lives in a cabin west of the city in solitude and claims that he hasn't spoken to Trevor in almost a decade."

"By the sound of his livelihood, I doubt he was lying," Cole pointed out. "Though, he may be able to provide a suspect or two."

"What makes you say that?," the Queen asks, tilting her head in curiosity.

"You said he claimed he hasn't made contact with Trevor in about a decade, correct?," Cole asked the King to confirm.

"That's right," the King nodded.

"Unless I'm mistaken, that would be around the time Trevor's business began to take off," Cole informed us. "Perhaps he would know of someone Trevor had a conflict with relating to his success."

"A jealous competitor?," I asked.

"Exactly," Cole answered.

"I do like the probability of that," the King said, contemplating as he scratched through the long hair of his sunflower like mane.

"But why would they have waited ten years to act?," the Queen asked. "It seems unlikely anyone would hold a grudge for so long, does it not?"

"I, actually, wouldn't be surprised, Madam," I said. "In any scenario, competition is very likely to elevate to hostility at some point. Especially if the competitors are known for aggression. Add a few years of loss after loss and someone is bound to get hurt. Like a child refusing to let his younger brother win at a game. Eventually, things are said, as juvenile as they are, and fists get thrown. If Cole is right, this could all just be over some childish need to be on top."

"Well put, Nathaniel," the King praises. "Let's just see what we can find out."

The King lifted a hand and waved a finger at one of the knights guarding the door. I turned around to watch the knight pound on the doors two times, pause, knock two more times then return to his post.

"Any other questions before he's sent in?," the King asked.

"No, Sire," Cole replied.

"I do have one," I answer, looking back towards the thrones. "Where is the Council? I was lead to believe they would be here for the interrogations."

"Something came up while we were still rounding up Trevor's acquaintances," the King tells me. "I had no other option than to have them handle it themselves in the war room until I or Anthony is available."

"War room?," I repeated. "Forgive me, Sire, has something more than just a senseless murder happened today?"

"Do not worry about it, Nathaniel," the King says. "It is not yet your concern."

"Of course, My Lord," I acknowledged his will with a nod.

Yet?

Three more knocks were heard from the outside of the courtroom. I turned around again and watched one of the guards unlock and drag his door open. From the other side, a duck man resembling few of Trevor's features literally scurried into the courtroom, dragging his feet as the door closed and locked behind him.

What the hell...

This hunchbacked, filthy, greasy haired, cross-eyed, energetic caveman in overalls stood in the sloppiest posture after storming past Cole and I then got down on his knees and... well, most people would call it worshiping.

Bowing up and down with his arms extended over his head, he repeated the same sentence over and over.

"Hail the King and Queen!," he shouted as he bowed continuously. "Hail the King and Queen!"

The King looked at his wife who looked back at him with their jaws dropped in humorous confusion. I looked at Cole with a frown and raised an eyebrow when he looked back with his hysterical grin from earlier.

I don't know if I should pity this guy or not. Both seem like a dick move.

"Please stop," the King said, raising a hand.

"Hail their royalty!," Caesar continued without a breath. "I love you both!"

"Dude!," I shouted over him. He flinched in shock and looked back at me. "Stop!"

"Uh, yes, thank you, Nathaniel," the King mumbled.

"Caesar, I assume you know why your here," I said, catching half of his attention.

"Well, I can't really say for sure," the duck man gibbered in a quick breath. "They told me you had some questions but then the knights started complaining we had to walk so far and why we couldn't have horses, personally, My Lord, I agree with them, all the walking around is killer on my thighs, I'm not as mobile as I used to be, you know."

Oh, God, I had to have something to do. I should have just let Cole handle it. Now I get to chat with this charming fellow.

"Mr. Draufht," I called to him, gaining his divided attention once more. "My friend and I are the ones you'll be talking to today so please pay close attention."

"Oh, yeah, sure, no problem," Caesar replied with a stupid smile. "I can't remember what the knights said you wanted to know, though, I think it was something about my pop or ma, it was something like that, right?"

"Uh... yes," Cole stuttered. "Your nephew, Trevor."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, that's right!," Caesar exclaimed, "I remember now, but like I told those knights, I don't know nothing about lil' ol' Igor as we called him, oh, and I remember how much he used to hate that, that was the entire reason ma starting saying it when he was little but once he grew up and found out what it meant -

"Caesar!," the King hollered, echoing through the courtroom. The duck man flinched much harder to the King's stern voice and cowered under his arms as he looked back at him. "You need only to answer their questions, nothing more. If you continue to speak off term, you will be considered to be withholding information and spend the night down below."

A horrified look spread over his face and it looked like he was sprouting tears. "You mean Heck, Sire?"

"No, you-," I almost said "idiot" as I pinched the bridge of my snout, "he meant the dungeon, Mr. Draufht, and he's asking you to please close your beak unless we ask you to open it. Understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," the duck nodded continuously, wiping away the wasted sorrow, "I can definitely do that so what did you want to know?"

"When was the last time you spoke to Trevor?," Cole asked, placing his arms behind his back.

"Well, years and years ago," Caesar answers, waving his hands everywhere. "The last time we spoke was when pop died way back when, Trevor took off with pop's life insurance and disappeared into the wild blue yonder to start a new life in another kingdom."

"No he didn't," I replied, shaking my head with a pitiful expression.

This poor guy is clueless.

"Trevor came to the city," I informed him. "He built a successful business but was found dead two and a half hours ago."

"Oh, yes I remember the guards telling me that," Caesar said then shrugged. "Oh well, I guess when life hands you lemons."

What... what? What the fuck are you talking about? Give him as many fuckin' lemons as you want, he's dead! What do you expect him to do, suck on it? Cause he sure as shit ain't making lemonade!

"Are you not distressed at all to discover this?," Cole asked.

"Well, I'm just not really surprised, you know?," Caesar immediately responded. "Lil' Igor was a lil' asshole."

"Of course he was," I mumbled.

I'm going to regret this.

"Tell me, Caesar, how has your week been?," I asked him with a fake smile. "What did you do?"

"Oh, well, so kind of you to ask," the duck said, all peppy and annoying. "Well, I did my usual things, I get up and I bathe (he does?) and I get dressed and go to the restaurant and cook up the usuals for my usual customers and usually I have a few drinks with my buddies and actually I don't remember after that, it's always just a blur and I wake up the next day, get up, bathe -

"We get it, Caesar," Cole said, raising his hand to stop him. "Is that all you do? You haven't done anything different recently?"

"No, not at all, why, why do you ask, am I in trouble?," he questioned.

Fucking clueless... Dammit, I'm getting a hangover just listening to him.

"No, Caesar, you're not," I told him, fighting the migraine. "Can you tell me if Trevor was always as bad as you describe him? Did he ever make someone really, really mad over something stupid?"

"Oh, yeah, all the time!," Caesar exclaims again. "He used to fight with me over all kinds of stuff like toys and food and drinks and everything! And he was like nine years old at the time and I was sixteen or seventeen, it was ridiculous!"

"What about as an adult?," I asked. "Did he ever have someone he fought with more than anyone? About anything or everything?"

"I can't say, really, he stopped talking to me long before pop died," Caesar said while rolling his eyes. "I didn't see him for years until pop died and I ran into him at the funeral and we talked a little and took our earnings from pop's will and left and I never seen him since."

"And of course not," I said, pinching the bridge of my snout again.

This is pointless. We're never going to get anything useful out of him.

"Cole, do you have anymore questions?," I asked, pinching harder to focus my nerves off the pounding in my head.

"Uh, no, not really, sir," Cole answers, seemingly unmoved.

"Fantastic then," I said, raising a hand and waving a finger in the air. "You can go, Caesar."

"Well, thanks a lot, fellas, I'll see you later," Caesar said as the bolts of the doors were heard unlocking.

God, I hope not.

"Goodbye, Your Highnesses!," Caesar exclaims one final time, waving wildly as he scurried away. The King and Queen seemed as aggravated as I was, so much so, they didn't acknowledge him before he disappeared behind the doors as they closed.

"Thank God," the King mumbled, chuckling over his words and rubbing his temple as the bolts relocked. "I'm sorry we all had to go through that."

"Are you alright, sir?," Cole asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, feeling blood trickle down my face from my claws digging into my snout. "Just... he gave me a tumor just now." I wiped the blood away and nodded to Cole. "I'll be alright, though. Whose next?"

"Someone a little more bearable," the Queen laughed. "Caesar means well but one can only take so much of that."

"Our next guest is Maria Juan," the King said.

...Of course...

"She was Trevor's maid and I believe you've already had a discussion with her Nathaniel, correct?," the King asked.

"Yes, I have had the pleasure of meeting her," I replied, losing my enthusiasm by the second. "She's very cooperative but unfortunately she only speaks Spanish."

"Well, it's a good thing Anthony sent you then," the Queen smiled. "We would have had to call on a translator anyway so this is perfect."

"What all has she told you?," Cole asked me. "Anything I wasn't there for?"

"Nothing important," I replied. "She mostly just bitched about how much of an ass Trevor was." I turned my attention to the King and Queen, "Excuse my language."

"Well, let's get this over with," the King said, waving his finger again. One of the knights behind Cole and I knocked on the doors four times again, taking a pause after two. "While you are questioning her, I ask that you translate everything you ask and everything she says. And I apologize in advance, Nathaniel. I know you are not used to this sort of task."

"I'm gonna have to adapt sooner or later," I said with a shrug. "But thank you, Sire, I can't imagine this is any easier for you."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," the King laughed. "I have met some odd characters in my day."

Three knocks were heard once more. The guards behind me unlocked the bolts and the doors squeaked as they pulled them open. I didn't dare turn around to watch Maria walk into the courtroom for I already knew what was coming.

"Hola, Maria," I greeted her without turning around. "¿Como esta?"

"Muy bueno, Señor Nathaniel," she replies as she walked up between Cole and I. She raised the skirt of her maid outfit, which apparently she has yet to change out of, by pinching it with her fingertips and bowed in a curtsy. "Buenos días, Señor, Buenos días, Mi Señora."

"She said, 'good day'," I translated. The King and Queen waved and smiled to her seeing as they knew no other way to greet her. I looked to Maria who now stood between the thrones and Cole and I, facing us. "Maria," I began "¿Cómo dirías que tú sabías a Trevor?" I looked over to the thrones, "I asked her how well she knew Trevor." I looked back at Maria.

"Mejor que nadie, creo que," Maria replied. "Nunca habló a mucha gente. Sobre todo volvía casa despotricando sobre cosas al azar."

"She says she believes she knew Trevor better than anyone," I informed. "And that he usually came home ranting about random things. ¿Alguna vez se quejó en Español, Maria?"

"No," she said. "Pero lo he escuchado repetir nombres."

"I asked her if he ever complained in Spanish," I said, "she says no but he used to repeat names. ¿Con qué frecuencia?"

"Todos los días," she answers. "Tanto es así, les he memorizado."

"That's interesting," I mumbled, scratching my chin. "She says Trevor would come home everyday complaining about the same people and that she's memorized their names."

"Si," Maria said, nodding. "Sus nombres son Johnathan, Jebediah y Ashley."

"I assume you caught that part, My Lord?," I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Yes, son," the King nodded.

"Jebediah," Cole repeats. "And Ashley... I think those are the names of Trevor's top competitors."

"Well, I believe we finally have a lead," the Queen said.

"We might," Cole says. "But it seems too obvious. Too convenient. Who doesn't come home from work complaining about a rival?"

"Very true, Cole," the King pointed out. "We should also consider this Johnathan fellow. Can you ask her what his last name is?

"Absolutely, Sire," I agreed then continued to speak in her native tongue. "¿Puede decirme el apellido de Johnathan, Maria?"

"No, lo no siento, señor Trevor nunca habló apellidos," Maria said with a frown.

"Trevor never spoke last names," I said. "But maybe one of the others will know of him."

"Very well," the King nodded, "please continue."

"Nathaniel, ask her if she knows Trevor's usual daily schedule," Cole tells me.

"¿Podría indicarme qué Trevor hace en un día normal?," I asked Maria.

"Si él no estaba en su oficina en el trabajo, estaba en su oficina en casa," Maria says with a shrug.

"She says if he wasn't in his office at work, he was in his office at home," I told Cole. "Why, what are you thinking?"

"I was hoping we could find out if he ever fell off schedule at some point," Cole says. "Perhaps if we can determine his time of departure and arrival to and from his home and workplace, we can ask her if he ever came home late. Maybe he went to a bar. If that's the case, he could have just really pissed someone off. Enough to go to these great of lengths."

"That sounds reasonable," I said. "Unless our killer is an idiot, he wouldn't make it obvious. If it was just some random guy in the street, he would have hardly any tracks to cover."

"But does it sound farfetched?," the Queen asks. "It does to me."

"Just another theory, I suppose," Cole says.

"I'll ask anyway," I said then looked back at Maria. "¿Tiene Trevor vuelves a casa tarde por cualquier razón que sabes de?"

"Sólo para alimentos," Maria answers. "Aunque llegó a borracho a casa esos días."

"She says he only stayed out late for groceries," I translate. "But he often came home drunk."

"Yet another convenience," the King says. "Or maybe a coincidence. Either way, we should not rule out any possibilities."

Selina said the same thing.

"Any other ideas?," the Queen asked, looking around the large open room.

"Maria, ¿hay alguien con que Trevor pasó su tiempo?," I asked her. "Nadie en absoluto, ni siquiera por unos momentos."

"Que yo sepa, no," Maria said with a frown.

"I asked if she knew anyone he would spend his free time with, even for a few minutes," I echoed through the room. "She said, 'not that I know of'."

"What about before his business took off?," Cole asks. "Ask her how long she's been working for him."

"¿Cuánto tiempo han estado trabajando por Trevor?," I questioned, waving a hand to her.

"Me contrató cuando tenía veinte años," Maria replies. "Eso sería ciudad hace unos años."

"And another convenience," I said, rolling my eyes. "Or coincidence. She says it's been about ten years."

"Then maybe she would know of his acquaintances from his past," Cole insisted.

"¿Sabes si tenía amigos cuando te contrató?," I ask.

"No necesariamente un amigo," Maria responded. "Más parecido a un amigo."

"Disturbing," I mumbled. "He didn't have any friends but he had a, uh, sexual partner. And no, those weren't her exact words. ¿Su nombre?"

"¿Te refieres a su?," she replied with a question. "Fue Jason o algo así."

"And more disturbing," I said with an unsurprised flat expression. "Trevor liked to experiment. Apparently. His lover's name is Jason."

"I did not see that coming," Cole says with his drugged hysterical grin.

Man, I wish I could still get that high.

"Neither did I," the King mumbled, still taking in the surprise. "Does she know his last name?"

"¿Sabes el apellido de Jason?," I asked.

"Perry o Paxton...," she guesses, scratching her head. "O Perkins... es algo con una 'P', eso lo sé."

"It's either one of the three she just said or something else that starts with a 'P'," I informed.

"That's somewhat helpful," Cole said. "We can go through the records for a Jason P. and make a list. We bring her back and have her look it over, maybe she can zero in on the right man for us."

"Not a bad idea," I said, tilting my head with a shrug. "I like it."

"Very well," the King says. "That'll do for now. You can tell her to leave, Nathaniel."

"Vete a casa, Maria," I told her. "Quizá necesitemos llamar otra vez en el futuro cercano así que por favor siéntase disponibles."

"Por supuesto, señor Nathaniel," Maria smiled then bowed and headed for the doors as the guards unbolted them to let her through and locked them behind her.

"Two down," Cole pointed out.

"Two to go," I finished for him. "Whose out next colorful guest?"

"This one may not be as cooperative as the last two," the King informs us. "He's not too much older than your friend, Jacob, but his temper is..."

"Short fused?," I suggested.

"Yes, thank you," the King nodded with a smile. "He is not the friendliest person either. He's known to talk down to others."

Uh oh.

"Cole, you should probably take this one," I said, looking over to him.

"I was just thinking that," Cole replied. "No problem, sir."

"What else, My Lord?," I asked, turning back to the thrones.

"He's unemployed," the King continued. "His parents are very wealthy and he likes to get his way."

"Yeah, all you, Birdman," I said, grinning back at Cole.

He chuckled then looked back towards the King. "What is his relation to Trevor?," he asked.

"While going over Trevor's file, we found his name on a lease agreement," the King answers. "Sterling Walkar. Trevor rented an apartment out to him when he was seventeen."

"Curious," Cole mumbles. "Maybe he can provide some insight on this Jason."

"Maybe," I repeated. "Let's find out."

The king raised his finger and waved once more. The sound of the four knocks was heard again then all fell silent. A minute later, three more knocks on the door signalled the arrive of Sterling. The guards on our side unlocked the doors, dragged them open and closed them again as a peach colored jackal walked through.

He is the definition of pretty boy. Along with his primary peachy color, the fur around the inner and outer lining of his ears are colored a bright orange as well as his tail and hands.

I bet the curtains match the drapes.

I spit over myself as I held back the instant impulse to burst out laughing at the thought and hunched over my arm to keep my mouth shut.

His "masculinity" is accompanied by a fine pressed button up collar dress shirt in the lightest blue ever imagined. The shirt even has little golden cufflinks. His slacks are tan, rolled up at the bottom over his fancy black designer dress shoes. As he walked in, he held his arms behind his back, walked forward with his idea of dignity and completely ignored Cole and I. He stopped at the very bottom step of the royal thrones, took a knee and waved his bow like arrogant actors do after performing for an audition.

"Good evening, My Lord," a semi high pitched voice erupted from his mouth. He then repeated the bow again, "And to you as well, My Lady."

Okay, this isn't so bad. He's clearly been spoiled his whole life. I'd love to see him walk in my shoes. Wait, no, I take that back. He'd be dead within minutes.

The overgrown child turned around and looked at Cole and I with the strangest expression. "And who are you?," he asked, jamming his finger in our direction. "Why are you here?"

Oh, it just got bad.

"A 'hello' would have been nice," I mumbled, crossing my arms and trying to fight the urge to put him in his place.

Not physically, of course. Again, he'd be dead in minutes.

"My name is Cole," my eagle counterpart introduced himself. "This is Nathaniel."

"And you are here because?," Sterling asked again, jamming his finger.

"We'll be asking the questions today," Cole says. "We ask you to refrain from speaking to the King and Queen directly."

"Very well," the self entitled prince replied. "Ask what you must."

"Where were you today?," Cole asks.

"At home, tending to my floating garden," Sterling said, practically paying Cole no attention.

"And after that?," Cole continued.

"Yoga class," he answers. "Then the country club afterwards."

"Did you have anyone with you?," Cole asked.

"My girlfriend, Alesha," he said.

"Your what?," I asked in shock, popping my head up to meet his seemingly prissy eyes.

"My girlfriend," he repeated then gave me an annoyed stare. "Are you deaf?"

I chuckled as I dropped my head again. "Yeah," I replied, "yeah, dude, I'm a little hard of hearing, sorry 'bout that."

"What's so -

"Sterling!," Cole calls out to him to distract his rage, "can you tell me about your time spent in Trevor Draufht's apartment? We have reason to believe you rented from him."

"Well, of course I can," Sterling replied, oblivious enough to forget about my subliminal mocking. "I'm not a dimwit, I assure you."

You show me one person who agrees and then I'll believe that.

"Go ahead, then," Cole urged him. "Start from when you first met Trevor."

"Trevor was an ignoramus," Sterling began. "When I first met him, he gave me the most obnoxious remarks. He WAS a dimwit but I took the lease anyway."

"Why?," I asked, possibly with a little criticizing attitude. "Your family's rich aren't they? Did your parents kick you out and cut you off?"

"How do you know about that?," the jackal questions. His enraged face returned with a tint of red. "What right do you have to skulk in my personal business?"

Am I really his fucking target?

"He has the right of military," the King announced firmly. "Given by my Admiral and, yes, I have approved it. So you will show him respect."

Awesome.

Hearing the King say that raised my spirits from the flaming inferno that had began to burn inside me for this contemptuous man child. He found it much less appealing as he frowned towards me which deflected off my confident smile and drilled into his over inflated ego.

"If it's any consolation, I just guessed," I told Sterling, becoming pleased to see my statement annoys him.

"Yes, my parents cut me off when I was younger," Sterling said, peering at me with a death stare that did not phase me whatsoever. "And left me very little to get by on my own. I was lucky to last as long as I did. I almost died, you know."

"Sorry, that's not really relevant," I gave him a fake apology then turned to Cole. "How 'bout we cut the crap and ask him what we really wanna know?"

"Yes, sir," Cole nodded then looked back at the jackal. "Sterling, while staying as Trevor's resident, did you ever see or hear of him with another man named Jason?"

"I can't say for sure," he shrugs. "But I have seen someone jump his wall during the night. Quite a few times. Does that count?"

"Yes," I answered, holding in my laughter.

"How often did you see this figure jump his wall?," Cole asks.

"Almost every night," Sterling replied with a face that seemed surprised we didn't know. "Around the same hour as well."

"Did it ever stop happening?," Cole continues.

"Not that I am aware of," the jackal says then peers at me again. "I am not the type to lurk in other's personal affairs."

"How often did you see Trevor in person?," Cole asks.

"Once a month to pay rent," Sterling says, looking away in a "polite" manner. "I had rather not be around the brute any more than necessary."

"Was there ever anyone else with him when you paid?," Cole asked.

"One man, a couple times but hardly often at all," the princess exaggerated. "I believe he was a bird like yourself. But of what species, I do not know."

"Could you describe his features as best as you can, please?," Cole urged him.

"He was short and chubby," Sterling says, waving spirit fingers through the air.

Not literally but he might as well be.

"He had a short black beak, mostly blue with some white -

"A bluejay?," I asked, giving him a stupid look.

"I said I don't know what he was," the jackal restated with emphasis and an ugly stare. "It's very rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking."

So is thinking you're better than everyone. This really needs to end, he's very little help as well.

"Well, that about answers all my questions," I said as I looked over to Cole. "How about you?"

"I have one question left," Cole replied, turning back to Sterling. "When you paid your rent, where did you meet up with Trevor?"

"His house, of course," Sterling says. "I was only down the street from him and if he wasn't home when I knocked on his door to pay, he would come to me later that evening."

"That's what I figured," Cole says. "Alright, Mr. Walkar, you may leave. Have a good day."

"To you as well, my feathered friend," Sterling said with a nod. He turned to the King and Queen and gave two long waved bows. "Good day, Your Highnesses," the jackal says.

"Good day," they replied together.

Sterling turned around to leave and as he passed me, he gave me the most childish face, like a four year old trying to creep out his older sister. I stuck my tongue out at him as I smiled confidently and let it hang until he disappeared behind the courtroom doors.

Smug punk.

"Only one left," Cole smiles proudly. "This is going much faster than I anticipated."

"I heard that," I agreed with a grin. "Whose our last victim, Sire?"

"Trevor's daughter," the King says. "Since Trevor was found dead, young Ms. Draufht inherited all of her father's assets and quit her job."

I though Caesar was his only living relative?

"It's only been a couple of hours," I pointed out, slightly surprised. "Her first instinct was to quit her job?"

"It would appear so, yes," the King nodded.

"Interesting," Cole says. "How did she react to her father's death?"

"According to the report, she cared little," the King informs.

"How old is she?," I asked.

Of course, the Jake in me is wondering for other reasons.

"Twenty-five," the King replies. "Her name is Amber. And don't be fooled by first glance, she was adopted."

That makes a little more sense.

"Let's bring her in, shall we?," Cole suggests.

The King nodded and waved his finger. The usual process of communicating through the doors pounded on wood behind me and a minute later, I turned around with Cole and watched Amber walk in.

She was definitely adopted. Instead of a duck like her father, a long legged blue and black pattern cheetah made her way towards us. She is nearly my height and would have a good couple of inches on Selina. It's all in those long, slender legs. On top of those is a tiny plump booty and on top of that, a bouncy pair of C cups. In a contest of size, I think Selina has her beat, not by much though.

She's wearing an outfit like the cloths I've seen in the Phillip's twin's shop. A jean skirt that looks like it had a pair of scissors taken to it to force a low cut look, black leggings sprout from her ankles and travel up her legs and under the skirt, flip flops in an aqua camouflage design that curved between each toe of her paws, and to top it off, a low cut multicolored spiral tie die blouse over a much less revealing plain black tanktop.

Maybe she's why Anthony said "colorful".

As the doors were dragged shut, Amber rocked from side to side on her hips and stood before all of us as the bolts locked. She seems like an innocent enough person, great posture, pretty smile, big eyes, but just looking at her is throwing me off. A girl like that looks back at me and I would usually be knee deep in the gutter in my head but I couldn't be any less aroused at the moment. Of course she's attractive. But other than the fact she's perfectly calm in the face of her father's death...

I feel like I'm missing something.

"Good evening, Ms. Draufht," Cole greets her with a kind gesture.

"Just call me Amber, please," she replied, instantly frowning at the use of her last name.

"Forgive me, Amber," Cole defended himself with the same gesture.

"It's alright," she says then lazily glances my way. "So what am I here for?"

"We have some questions regarding your father's murder," I answered. "But usually the first thing people do when they walk in here..." I pointed to the thrones with my eyes a few times then cracked up inside a little bit when I saw the startled expression on her face as she realized the King and Queen were present.

Okay, either that was the worst acting I've ever seen or she just might be a bit heedless.

Amber gripped the bottom of her skirt with her fingertips and bowed in a curtsy the way Maria did but with much more grace. "Pardon me, Your Majesties," she excused herself.

Carry on," the King urges us all.

"Amber, my name is Nathaniel," I introduced myself. "My charming friend here is Cole."

"Great to meet you both," Amber bowed again with a pleasant smile.

"Likewise," I smiled back then looked over to Cole. "You wanna kick it off?"

"Amber, where were you today?," Cole asked.

I was hoping for something a little less basic but okay, I'll roll with it.

"My apartment," she replied with ease. "I worked second shift so I was just about to leave for work when the other knights knocked on my door."

"We were told you quit your job when they told you what happened," Cole pointed out.

"That's right," Amber calmly assures him.

"And the first thing you did was stop by your workplace on your way here?," I questioned.

"You got it," she nodded. "I stuck it to the man."

"I'm sorry, I have to be blunt here," I said, shaking off the arrogance of the comment. "Did you not get the memo that your father was killed? Dead as in deceased, not living, a goner, days away from rotting six feet under for the next millennium, dead. The knights did tell you that part, right?"

"Yes," Amber replied, calm as ever.

This is weird.

"How are you not in pieces?," I asked her.

"Excuse me?," she pardoned.

"Dead means he will never come back," I emphasized, wiping my hand across in front of me. "Why are you okay with that?"

"I never considered that man my father," Amber says. "My parents died in a fire when I was a baby. Our town was raided by smugglers."

Isn't that what happened to Rick's mother... wait, did she just say "smugglers"?

"The town North of the city?," I asked, falling off subject. "Just below the mountains?"

"Yes, that's right," Amber nods.

That doesn't make sense. I distinctly remember Rick telling me the Boss found him in the remains of the atta-

"Holy shit, it was him," I mumbled to myself. "How didn't I put that together?"

"What?," Cole asks, turning to me.

"What, what?," I repeated, rising from my thoughts and looking back at him.

"Did you develop something, sir?," Cole asked.

"Uh, yeah, technically," I admitted with a couple nods. "It's irrelevant, don't worry about it."

"Alright then," Cole mumbled then look back at the curvy blue cheetah. "Amber, what can you tell us about a man name Jason?"

Amber's eyes grew wide at the question then filled with tears as she bursted out in laughter. She laughed and laughed and clawed at her sides as she bent over herself. Cole and I looked back at each other then turned around and read the confused look upon the King and Queen's faces. The King held a hand up towards Amber while she cracked up, questioning her reason.

"Amber!," I yelled over her laughter. She bent over on her knees and looked back at me with one eye open still fighting to hold it back. I raised a hand to the thrones and shook my head at her impulsive act. "For the love of God, show some respect."

"I'm sorry, really," Amber pleaded, rising back to her feminine posture. "I had forgotten all about him."

"So you know who he is?," I asked.

"You are talking about his little 'experiment', right?," she asks with a hysterical grin.

"Uh... yeah," I mumbled. "What do you know of him?"

"Well, I know his last name is Parker," Amber said, leaning on her hip.

Maria wasn't off by much.

"He would come flapping his wings over our wall almost every night," Amber continued. "Thinkin' he was being all sneaky. I laughed every time."

"Does he still come over nowadays?," Cole asked.

"He stopped showing sometime before I moved out," she answers.

"How long ago?," Cole asks.

"Six or seven years, give or take," she said. "I think they got in a fight or something."

"Any idea what it was about?," I asked in turn.

"If I had to guess?," Amber rhetorically asks. "Trevor probably realized he wasn't gay and cut him off."

"That's what I thought," I said, looking away.

"What about Trevor's professional life?," Cole continued to investigate. "What can you tell us about his work?"

"What do you want to know?," she asked in response.

"Was he an aggressive competitor?," Cole asked.

"Would he do whatever it took to be on top?," I added.

"Did he ever receive any threats from his competitors?," Cole questions.

"Was he really gay?," I asked with a curious look. Cole shook his head in confusion and gave me his confused stare. "What? It makes you wonder, doesn't it? I don't have anything against it, don't get me wrong. If crossing swords gets you off then by all means, stuff those corn dogs, it's just... he didn't look like he was the type."

"That's what I said when I found out," Amber says. "And to answer the questions, yes, yes, yes, and oh my God, yes. It's hilarious, isn't it?"

"Very," I chuckled. "Could you imagine? Did you ever hear him quack in the midst of the night?"

Amber slapped her side and started giggling again and covering her mouth.

"Uh, sir...," Cole mumbles, trying not to laugh as well.

Oh, right, the thing we're doing.

"Sorry," I said, grinning to myself then looked back at Amber still laughing inside. "Let's see, what else... has Trevor ever had an attempt on his life before this?"

"Not that I know of," Amber answered as I watched the humor drain from her being. "But I wouldn't be surprised."

"You got anything else, Cole?," I asked, turning in his direction.

"No, sir," Cole shook his head. "I can't stop thinking about the quacking thing now."

"And that's perfectly reasonable," I replied then looked back at the cheetah. "You can go, Amber. Thank you for your time."

"Anything to besmirch that quack head's 'good' name," Amber joked. I laughed, Cole laughed, she laughed and I even heard the King chuckle behind me. We quickly simmered down and Amber held a hand out to Cole. "It was nice meeting you guys," she said as he shook her hand. She then turned to me and shook mine as we smiled back at each other. Finally, she turned to the King and Queen and gave another curtsy. As she turned towards the door, she shot her eyes right at me. For an instant, I saw her wink at me and smile before walking towards the large wooden doors creaking over the floor. In seconds, she vanished and the doors sealed once more.

"That was fun," Cole says.

"At least they weren't all ridiculous," I added. "So let's recap here. What do we know?"

"Well, we have a few suspects to start us off," Cole answers. "We have Trevor's top competitors, which would have been a given anyway, Jebediah, Ashley and whoever this Johnathan person is."

"Then there's the ex homosexual lover, Jason Parker," I said. "I think we should consider Amber as well. Sterling, too. Neither of them were exactly Trevor's biggest fan."

"Lord knows they both resented him enough," Cole pointed out.

"So where will you go from here, Nathaniel?," the Queen asks, grasping our attention.

"Back to Anthony's office," I answered, pointing a thumb behind me. "I'll make another report and discuss our next move."

"Do you have one in mind?," the King asked.

"I do," I nodded. "I'm going to ask the Admiral to come with me to question Trevor's competitors. In the meantime, Cole I want you to go through records and see if you can find Jason's home. If so, you have permission to confront him."

"Yes sir," Cole acknowledged.

"Will there be anything else, My Lord?," I asked, looking back up to his jewel encrusted throne.

"Just one thing," the King answered, holding up a finger. "What is your relationship with Selina?"

"I'm sorry?," I replied, a little surprised.

That came outta nowhere.

"I'm just wondering if your personal involvement in this case will impair your judgement."

"You've no reason to worry, Sire," I assured him. "Selina is very dear to me but it is my personal involvement that won't let me fail. I will find our killer and I'm hoping he fights back so I can silence him myself."

"That is what makes me worry," the King says. "Do not lose yourself in a vendetta if Selina is taken."

"Understood, My Lord," I said. "I'll do what's necessary."

"Good," he nodded. "You may go."

"Thank you, Sire," Cole says along with me. We both bowed to him then his wife and began to travel towards the courtroom doors together. The bolts clanked and the wood slid across the floor. The hippo on the other side gave me a look as we walked by him. I showed a cocky smirk and turned away as the doors locked behind us.

Cole and I ventured out into the open room of the space in front of the stairs above the courtroom and stood in the center.

"You're free until I need you again," I told him. "But don't take too much personal time, find Jason and get some answers."

"You got it, boss," Cole smiled then held a hand out to me. "Just so you know, I've had more fun working with you today than I have with anyone else."

"I try to lighten a situation when I can," I modestly shrugged then shook his hand. "That was fun, though. I could get used to you sticking around."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir," Cole says. "Good luck, Nathaniel. I'll pray for Selina."

You and everyone else.

"Thank you, Cole," I smiled. "She's going to need all of our support when she pulls through this."

Cole nodded with another smile and turned away. I stood still in the center of the room and watched him travel up the stairs, across the balcony and disappear behind a wall.

She will pull through this. Selina is not going to die. She's stronger than that.

"Nathaniel!," I hear Anthony cry out. I looked up and saw him bent over the railing of the balcony, shouting down to me.

Oh, shit, I bet that hippo actually did rat me out.

"Alright, I know what you're going to say," I said, holding my hands up to him as he stomped quickly down the stairs. "I went a little overboard with my authority and I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?," the Irishman asks.

"Uh...," I mumbled.

Should I answer?

"Me crushing the hippo's hand?," I said, making it more of a question.

Anthony raised an eyebrow and shook his head lightly. "I don't know what that means but we'll discuss it later. Selina fell into respiratory failure."

"What?," I blurted, popping my eyes out of my head. I instantly bolted past the bulky tiger and stormed up to the balcony. "That fucking bitch, if she dies, I'm going to kill her!"

"Nathaniel, wait for me!," Anthony yells as I hear him speed up the stairway behind me. "I haven't told you everything!"

Anthony caught up to my side and we both stormed the corridors towards the spiral staircase leading to the lab.

"Are you kidding me?!," I complained, shooting him a mean eye while we hurried around a corner. "What else, Anthony?"

"It began when she started to seize," the Admiral told me, stopping me in my tracks with a hand to my chest as he blocked my path.

"When the hell were you up there?," I questioned him with attitude.

"I went to check on the lass not too long after you left my office," he explains. "She seemed fine at first so I went back to my office to finish some paperwork before heading to the war room."

"Get to the point, Irishman!," I yelled, echoing my voice through the large hallways.

"I went back to the lab after I finished to check on her once more, I was gone an hour and a half," Anthony continued, "not too long after I walked in, she began to complain that she was dizzy and tried to walk towards the bed in the patient room. Then she collapsed and started to convulse."

"Then why are you standing here explaining this to me?!," I yelled again, trying to push past him.

He pushed against me again with another hand to my chest. "Because she's stable now," Anthony said. "She's unconscious, but stable. Elrick says it was the first scare of those yet to come."

In an instant, I felt rage build up inside me and got in the Admiral's face. "Are you telling me you waited until it ended to tell me?," I asked him, my tone low but clearly furious.

"It's not over yet, Nathaniel," Anthony told me. "We only waited until she stabilized to come get you, for her sake."

"For her sake?," I repeated, tilting my head.

"Your drama would have only worsened the situation and you know it," Anthony firmly stated.

I raised a fist and launched it at full speed. I hit him in the right cheek bone and sent him stumbling to the side and crashing into the stone wall of the corridor. "You have no right to keep this from me!," I screamed, pointing a finger down in his face.

Anthony rose back to one knee and rubbed his cheek as he stared back at me with bottled fury much like mine hiding behind his eyes. "It was Elrick's call," he told me.

I stared at him for a few moments longer then turned away and continued towards the lab without him.

She's going to be okay. She will be okay. She's a fighter and she will beat this.

I zoomed up the spiral stone stairway, cut the corner and hurried toward my front door. As soon as I opened the door and walked through, both Elrick and Jacob stood in front of me, blocking my path.

"Stop," Elrick ordered, raising a finger to me as the door shut.

"Where is she?," I asked.

"Where do you think?," Jacob answered first.

I peered right at him and pointed my finger at him. "Do not start with me now, Jake," I warned him. "Not now." I looked back at Elrick and waited for an explanation.

"Before you see her," Elrick began, "you should know a few things. It is not a pretty sight right now. The respiratory failure and low blood pressure caused her trachea to swell and constrict her windpipe. I gave her a trach tube to reopen the airway to her lungs and I've injected a few remedies as well as the cleansing meds and a few other things into her blood stream to counteract her low blood pressure and fight off the ricin."

"Is she going to be okay?," I asked.

Why am I questioning my faith in her?

"I don't know for sure," he told me. "It'll take time before we know if she's made any recovery. All we can do is wait and pray."

"For fuck sake," I bitched then pushed past between them. I walked up to the patient room where the door was shut. I peered through the window and what I saw terrified me. There, on the operating table, with a pillow under her motionless head, she lays, seemingly lifeless. I saw the trach tube sticking out of her throat that is supposed to keep oxygen flowing to her lungs. Around the area of the tube are small traces of dried blood crusted into her purple and white fur. Her wings look as if they were tucked under her back but one hangs lose over the edge of the table, limp against gravity pulling it towards the ground.

"Jesus Christ," I prayed, feeling tears rise up behind my eyes. "God dammit, Selina, I'm so sorry." I leaned against the door and dropped my head into the glass of the window with a thud. The tears worked their way through and began to trickle down the ends of fur on my snout. They made their way to the tip of my nose and dripped down to the wood flooring beneath me. "I'm so sorry..."