Chapter 3
“Miss Trent.” Bertrand’s voice came out muffled through the thick leather of his mask. “I was hoping you’d see fit to find me. I would have attempted to find you, but I had rather more pressing matters to attend to.”
“Like a costume party, because that’s pretty―” the thin thread of Maggie’s mirth snapped as she looked down into the fountain.
A body lay drifting face up in the water. Black tinged the unshaven face, creeping out from his nostrils and coloring his ears.
“That’s the man who was ranting about the Siren’s will.” Maggie fought the urge to look away. Death was not a foreign beast to her, but death in the sparkling pool seemed somehow obscene.
“Perhaps the Siren didn’t appreciate him speaking so freely on her behalf.” A silver rod appeared in Bertrand’s hand. Keeping
