Autumn Whispers o-14 Read online

Page 22


  After she headed to the kitchen, I glanced at Camille. “We have to break her password. Remember? Her letter from Supernatural Matchups? And we need to talk to that boyfriend of hers.”

  Camille nodded. “How are we going to break into her account? You’re handy with a keyboard but let’s face it, you aren’t a hacker.”

  “No, but we know someone who is.” I grinned. “Tim is mighty handy.” Tim Winthrop was a friend of ours. At one time he’d been a female impersonator while he put himself through college. Now, with his degree in computer science, he’d opened his own consulting business. He also ran a lingerie shop, though he hired someone to work there. We’d been at his wedding, and his husband, Jason, was a mechanic and he was the one working on my Jeep.

  Camille snickered. “Tim is a whirlwind with a computer. Give him a call while I run to the bathroom.”

  As she left the table, I pulled out my cell phone and punched in Tim’s number. He came on the line within two rings. “Hey, Tim. Got a favor to ask. Need you to hack an account. We’re following up on a missing persons case and need to get into her account on Supernatural Matchups.”

  Tim laughed. “I just love how you assume I’ll happily dive into your illegal investigations.”

  “Well . . .” I paused, not knowing how to respond. “Um, will you do it? I’ll have Hanna make you cookies.”

  A snort, “How can I resist such a desperate ploy? Okay, but they’d better be peanut butter chocolate chip, and I’d better see more than just a couple dozen.”

  “Deal. I’ll call you with the info when I get home. And, thanks.” I hung up before realizing I hadn’t even asked him how he was. But when Tim found out what was going down, he’d understand.

  Camille returned as Marion brought over our drinks. She set them in front of us. “Your food will be along shortly, girls.” Then she was off again to welcome a large group of werewolves who had just entered the café.

  “Tim said sure, for cookies. I need that letter to give him the info.”

  “I think it’s still in the car, to be honest. What else do we have to do today?” She took a long drink of her latte. “I need this. Caffeine.”

  I stared at the page, doodling a stick man in the corner. “We still haven’t told Menolly about our cousins. We need to do that tonight. We should ask Vanzir if Carter found out anything about the cigarette butt or footprint casts we found at Interlaken Park.”

  Camille nodded. “Doesn’t it seem weird to sit here talking about all this crap? Father’s missing, the Keraastar Knights are vulnerable and scattered, and Elqaneve is trashed. Sharah’s on her way home to become a queen . . . Chase has a baby and no one to help him with her. I know they’ll provide a nanny and wet nurse but . . .”

  I glanced up at her. “Speaking of Chase, what do you think about asking him if he wants to stay with us until everything gets sorted out? We could put him in the parlor. Hanna will be there to oversee meals and what’s one more mouth at our house? If he has a nanny and wet nurse, Hanna wouldn’t need to bother with the baby. We’d just need to make sure Maggie can’t get in there.”

  Camille cocked her head. “I dunno . . . we’ve got a full house as it is. And do we really want him there when we’re always under Shadow Wing’s bulls-eye?”

  She made a good point, but . . . “He’s going to be a target anyway, since he’s known to be Sharah’s lover and has her child. In fact, who’s to say some zealot elf with a grudge toward Windwalkers won’t try to kill the child? I promised Sharah I’d look after him.”

  After a moment, Camille shrugged. “I’m fine with it. I’m sure Menolly will be too. Are you sure Shade will be okay?”

  “You mean because Chase used to be my lover? I doubt if Shade has any worries in that department.” And truth was, he didn’t need to. At least for me, Shade was twice the lover Chase had been.

  “Okay then. So we ask Chase to move in. After we eat breakfast, let’s drop by Carter’s to ask if he’s had any luck with the cigarette and the footprint casts. And then, let’s start hunting down the dreglins. We’ll need help. I wonder if Ivana knows anything about them.”

  “Oh, you have to be kidding. Not her again, especially after what we found out about her when we were hunting down Gulakah.” I shuddered. Ivana Krask—the Maiden of Karask—gave me the creeps.

  Ivana was one of the Elder Fae. They were all entities beyond the realm of mortals, and they played so far out of social niceties that it was amazing they even tried to coexist with humankind. When you had dealings with them, you had to watch every word, every phrase, because it was easy to seal yourself into a deal that was most definitely not in your favor. They weren’t always evil, though some like Jenny Greenteeth, the Black Annis, and Yannie Fin Diver, were definitely not on the best-behaved list. Mostly they were chaotic, and they played outside of human rules.

  Camille shook her head. “Let’s face it, Ivana is our best touchstone for finding out what we need to about the dreglins.”

  “And you really think she’s going to give us information on other Elder Fae?” I still didn’t buy it, but then again, I didn’t like Ivana. “Fine, you call her. I don’t want any more to do with her or her garden of ghosts than I have to.”

  Camille dialed her number as Marion set our food in front of us. It still amazed me that one of the Elder Fae had a cell phone. But then, the world didn’t run on fairytales, and reality was much stranger than fiction could ever purport to be. A few seconds later, she glanced at me and pointed at her phone.

  “Yes, Ivana? . . . Yes, it’s the Witch Girl . . . Um hm. That’s right. Listen, we were wondering if you would meet us. We have a deal to propose.”

  Ivana did nothing without recompense. We just had to watch what we offered her, because if there’s one thing the Elder Fae could do, it was twist the meaning of words. Especially when there was a deal involved.

  “Yes, we can. We’ll see you there in an hour.” Camille hung up. “I agreed we’d meet her in the park in an hour.”

  I glanced outside as I tore off a piece of the cinnamon roll. It was so good, I thought I’d just have to buy a second for the road. “It’s pouring rain.”

  “I’m not going to melt and neither are you. Now, let me call Carter and see if he’s going to be home.” She stabbed one of her sausage links and ate it down before she picked up her phone again. A few minutes later, we were set to meet with Carter at around 4:00 P.M.. We finished our meal and I ordered a second cinnamon roll to go, then we left a good-sized tip and headed out to the car.

  “We still have half an hour before we need to meet Ivana. Can we stop by Jason’s and see if he’s done with my Jeep?” I was getting really tired of relying on others for my rides.

  “Sure thing.” She scooted out of the parking spot and we were off.

  Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the parking lot at Jason’s garage. We headed into the office and he was there, poring through some parts catalogue. Jason was a fine-looking man, dark and bald, his skin the color of coffee. He and Tim had been together for a number of years now, and he treated Tim’s little girl like his own. She was somewhere around six or seven now, and while Tim’s ex-wife still had issues with him, she never took it out on his relationship with his daughter. He got her every weekend, and did his best to be a good father.

  Jason smiled when he saw us come in, waving. He’d finally come to accept Tim’s involvement in the Supe Community, and even accepted that Tim’s best friend was now a vampire. Erin Matthews—Menolly’s “daughter.” In fact, we’d met Tim through Erin, when she still owned the Scarlet Harlot and both he and Camille had shopped there.

  “Hey girls, what’s shaking?” Jason turned around and grabbed a set of keys off the pegboard behind him, tossing them to me. “Don’t even ask. Your baby’s ready.”

  I laughed. “You’re the best! What was wrong with her?”

  “Do you really want to know, or do you just want the bill and the lifetime guarantee?” He snickered, pulling out hi
s ledger.

  I laughed. “Got me there. Okay, I trust you. How much do I owe you?” I pulled out my wallet and took out my credit card.

  He grimaced. “It wasn’t cheap, girl. I had to order a lot of parts. Whatever the hell you did to it, I’d like to know. Or maybe not. Anyway, bill comes to nine-hundred fifty-eight dollars and thirty-nine cents. And that’s with your friends and family discount.”

  I coughed, but handed over the credit card. Jason was a good guy, and he didn’t stiff anybody. Which is why he had repeat clientele, and a damned fine reputation. As he rung up the service, I turned to Camille.

  “I’ll take my Jeep and follow you. I’ve missed her.”

  “I had that mess on the side of it detailed, girl.” Jason gave me a smile. “You’ve had that bad cover-up job on there too long.”

  I gaped at him. “But that had to cost . . .”

  “Shut your mouth, sugar.” He winked. “I will not let one of my friends carry around the memory of a hate crime.”

  Back in February, shortly before Iris’s wedding, my car had been the victim of a hate-filled graffiti artist who had tagged it with, “Go home, Faerie Sluts!” in red paint. I’d covered it up the best I could with spray paint but it never had looked right. Now, the door matched the rest of the paint job—a turquoise blue.

  I hopped over the counter, surprising Jason, and gave him a quick hug. He froze at first, then hesitantly returned the embrace.

  “Damn girl, you are strong. I can feel your muscles through that jacket.” He grinned at me then.

  “You’re pretty fine, yourself. Those are some big guns you have there.” Jason was built like a body builder and I had no doubt his biceps were ooo-baby worthy. “You work out a lot?”

  He nodded. “I do. In fact, I teach Thai boxing. You interested in learning?”

  I cocked my head to the side. I’d always wanted to take up one of the Earthside martial arts classes. “How much time is required? If I’m out on a case, or have to be in Otherworld, am I going to get kicked out for not showing up? I don’t want to commit to something that I might have to flake out on.”

  He pursed his lips, smiling. “We could schedule private lessons. Then we can reschedule as needed. When you have the time, it would be best to go for two classes a week, plus keeping up with your regular workouts.”

  I slid my credit card back in the holder. “Sounds good. I’ll give you a call later tonight or tomorrow to talk some more. Thanks, Jason. Tim has himself a good man.”

  “I know, love. I know.” And then he shooed us out. “I have work to do. And I know you do, too. Off with you now.”

  As we left the shop, I glanced back. “I hope to hell he and Tim weather knowing us. I’d hate it if—”

  “Don’t say a word. Don’t even think it. They will be all right because we need them to be okay. I can’t handle seeing another friend hurt. Not now. Especially not with Father missing.”

  As I climbed in my Jeep and started her up, enjoying the purr of her motor, the rain turned to hail, the pea-sized ice balls bouncing off the hood and windshield, covering the pavement. I followed Camille out onto the road, the silver of the sky glimmered like light shifting onto layers of crinkled foil.

  We headed to the park to meet Ivana, and all the way there, I couldn’t stop thinking about Father. Had he managed to get out? Was he searching for us? And if he had, surely he would have contacted us by now—or contacted Trenyth.

  Was he trapped, unable to escape? Would he die, starving to death, while rescue workers frantically tried to dig out those who lived through the carnage? Or was he already dead and buried, at the bottom of a heap of rubble?

  I tried to keep my focus on the road, to shove the thoughts out of my mind. Worrying wouldn’t speed up finding him. Worrying wouldn’t do anything but interfere with what we were supposed to be focusing on.

  Our father was a guardsman most of his life. He had been fully prepared to give his life in the line of his work. When he’d become Ambassador, even for the short time it had lasted, he had been prepared to give his life in service to Queen Tanaquar. And now, as head of the OIA, Otherworld Division, there was the chance he’d be killed. He’d known the risks, and he’d taken them.

  Just like we knew the risks when we joined up.

  Just like we knew the risks when we chose to fight the war against Shadow Wing. We could have gone home to Otherworld. We could have let Smoky take us all away to the Dragon Reaches where we would be safe. But we were bound to our honor, to our duty. And we took our responsibilities seriously. No, we all knew how precarious life was, and we never took it for granted.

  At the same time, we were ready to lay down our lives in this battle. All of us—my sisters, our lovers; even Iris and Hanna. We knew what we were facing, and we still pressed on. We’d lost friends along the way and every time it hurt like hell, but what else could we do?

  And so, if Father was dead, we’d weep and we’d mourn, but we would accept it as part of who he was, and what he did, and what he stood for. And we would carry on, through the dark nights of war, as we walked through the fires the demons were pushing before them.

  Chapter 15

  Ivana Krask was waiting in the park. Camille and I darted through the rain to where she was sitting. The Maiden of Karask was dressed like a bag lady. Her face was a gnarled map, covered in burls and knobs. She had a pointed chin, reminding me of a bird, and her eyes were beady, sharp, and piercing. But we now knew just how illusionary her appearance was. Underneath that shabby persona was a brilliantly powerful Elder Fae who could shatter our hearing with her voice, who could rise up like a beautiful and terrible monster.

  She stood, her polyester muumuu shifting under the too-large coat. Her silver hair was tucked under a scarf, which barely kept it under control. The staff in her hand made me nervous. That damned thing could suck up spirits right and left. Ivana collected them for her garden of evil ghosts, where she tortured them, feeding off their pain for magic.

  Camille gave her a sharp curtsey and I bowed. Always paid to be polite when you were standing in front of someone who could make mincemeat out of you. A sharp wind blew by and Ivana laughed, raising her staff.

  “A ghostie on the wind, come to me, my pretty. Come to the Maiden.” And with a zap, her staff lit up and we saw something wispy filter into it. A sharp wail sounded, though it was so high-pitched that any FBHs around wouldn’t hear it. They might feel a flash of fear, a sense that something wasn’t right, but they’d just shake their heads and move on.

  We watched her smile, her razor-like teeth sparkling. She licked her lips and turned her beady stare to us. “Witch Girl and Pussy Cat. Too bad my Dead Girl is sleeping, for I would like to converse with her. I like dead things.”

  “We seek a deal, if you would be willing to listen.” Camille knew the pattern better than I did so I kept my mouth shut. It was dangerous to dabble with the Elder Fae unless you knew what the fuck you were doing, and I was the first to admit that I was clueless about effective bargaining.

  Ivana sat down on the wet bench, motioning for us to join her. Great, time to get our butts soaked. But we did as she asked. Again: you don’t quibble with those who can make you look like a dust mote.

  “What say you, Witch Girl? What do you want from the Maiden of Karask? And what will you bargain with? Bright flesh would guarantee you a deal, you know.” Her crafty smile reminded me of a crocodile.

  “We are not going to give you bright meat. No bright flesh!” Camille stared at her sternly. Ivana was always trying to get us to bargain with babies. The fact that she meant it, and that she actually ate them with relish made us even more leery, but the Elder Fae lived so far outside our realm that there was no way to get through to them how bad of an idea this was. We just refused every time she hinted around.

  “Then state your deal and I will see if it tickles my tooth.” Ivana glanced past her, coyly looking at me. “Standing back, are you, Pussy Cat? Afraid of the Maiden, perhaps?”
<
br />   Involuntarily, I scooted over on the bench, moving away. I didn’t have any desire to be the focal point of this conversation. I decided my best course of action was to remain silent.

  She sniggered and turned back to Camille. “State your deal, Witch Girl.”

  Camille cleared her throat. “Prime beef flesh, for information that will benefit us. I will tell you what I want to know. If you have the answer, payment will be ten pounds of tender steak.”

  Ivana sighed, frowning. “You drive a hard bargain. No bright flesh, today. If you were to throw in a chicken and some tasty fishes, we could strike a bargain. If I have the information and choose to share it.” She leaned back, seemingly unaware of the puddles of water that raced down the bench.

  “Very well. Ten pounds of beef flesh, a chicken, and a salmon. We want to know how to kill dreglins. What makes them vulnerable? And do you know where any might be hiding around here?”

  Ivana cocked her head, a smile playing over those thin lips, which made her seem even more nerve-racking. “So, old Jenny’s offspring have made the leap? They are here, are they? Jenny and I, we are not such good friends. We fought, long ago, over the same man. I finally decided he was not sweet enough for so much blood to flow and let her have him. She feasted well that day. But, she also made an enemy, and we have never been on terms.”

  Camille held out her hand. “Seal the deal?”

  Ivana accepted, shaking with a dark twinkle in her eye. “Witch Girl, you have too little fear. Or too much need. But yes, we seal the bargain. I will tell you what I will, and then you bring me the meat.”

  “How do we kill them?” Camille wiped a strand of her hair out of her face, where the rain had plastered it to her cheek.

  I pulled out my notebook to take notes. Granted, the pages were getting wet, I was soaked through, and the whole day was a soggy mess, but I wanted to be sure we remembered everything.

  “Dreglins . . . they are tough little bitches. They have a nasty bite to them, too.” She paused, then looked at my arm. “Perchance the Puss has found that out?”

 

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