I sighed and leaned my head back against the tombstone. “What am I doing, Robert? Am I too old for this?” Yeah, that worry was still hanging over me. I couldn’t help it. Each day that passed took me a day closer to forty-two, then forty-three, and before I knew it I’d be like Hattie and Gran, unable to stand the heat, complaining about aches and pains and stupid men . . . I snorted. Who was I kidding? I was partway there already.
A quick peek over the edge of the tombstone showed that Corb’s blue Mustang was gone. I hadn’t even heard it start up. Then again, I’d been busy feeling sorry for myself. “And then, to top it all off, Crash had two women hanging off him whose combined age is probably still not as old as me. How the hell do I compete with that?”
Robert slowed his swaying. “Don’t.”
I frowned. “Don’t compete?”
His swaying continued. Only it took on a more circular motion as he repeated that one word. “Don’t.”
Don’t compete with them. Damn, when a skeleton had more emotional intelligence than you did, it was a sign that you did indeed have some social issues. I smiled. “Thanks, Robert. You’re right, I shouldn’t be competing with anyone. That’s not why I’m here.”
I pushed to my feet, my lower back seizing halfway up. Too many years of hard physical work grooming dogs were catching up to me now. I had to pause there, crouched like Quasimodo, and breathe through the tightness as it slowly released and allowed me to stand all the way up. The first few steps sent tingles up and down my legs, and I hobbled as if I were a heck of a lot older than forty-one. Robert walked with me to the far edge of the park/cemetery and the gate that led out to the east end.
“You coming with me, or staying?” I asked, much to the amusement of more than a few tourists. Of course, they couldn’t see Robert.
“Coming.” As he finished the word, he collapsed down into that same small finger bone that I scooped up and slid into my leather bag. Hoisting a bag over either shoulder, I stepped out of the cemetery. The walk back to Gran’s wasn’t long, but felt longer with the duffel bag.
Suzy beat me back to the house, and miracle of miracles, the backseat of her car was mostly empty. I only saw one bag still in it. Damn, she’d moved in fast.
Feish stood on the top step of the house as I let myself in through the wrought iron gate. “She has a lot of stuff. Lucky that I like her.”
Eric was in the east side of the yard, working away, humming to himself. “This is great, I love this garden!”
That made me smile. At least someone was happy.
I dropped both my bags at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going to work in the garden, Feish. We all need to take care of it. If the ghosts from next door can come over now, it will only get worse the more we let the garden slide.”
Feish’s eyes went wide. “That would be bad.”
“Yeah, that’s what I think too.”
I pulled the finger bone out of my leather bag and set it on the ground. “There you go, Robert.” I blinked and he stood there, swaying in the sunshine.
Feish flapped her arms as she all but flew down the steps. “What are you bringing him for?” So she could see him, then.
“Because he looks out for me. And I think he might be lonely.” I grimaced. “Don’t you think you would get lonely if everyone was afraid of you all the time?”
Her face almost collapsed under the sadness that washed over her. “Yes. I think very lonely.”
Crap, I’d stepped in it there. I cleared my throat. “So we stay together, all of us. Friends.” I grabbed her webbed hand and gave it a squeeze as Robert muttered “friends” under his breath. Not Friend, singular. Friends, plural.
Before I could acknowledge the tears that welled up in those big round eyes of hers, I hurried into the front yard, which was all garden, all over the place. Feish, I was beginning to realize, had a lot of pent-up emotion that I wasn’t always sure what to do with.
My grandmother’s garden was made up of four sections, one for each direction on the compass. Not that there was any one type of plant in each section. Nope, far as I could see there was no rhyme or reason to what was growing there.
I recognized most of the plants, if not by sight then by smell. More than anything, I wanted to make sure whatever was keeping the next door monsters out continued to do so. Which meant I started on the fence line against the Sorrel-Weed house. I bent down by a patch of sage and began weeding around the edges of it, stripping the invasive plants out by the roots. The heat of the sun soaked into my back as I gave up and went to my hands and knees.
It was a little weird, and kind of great, to be doing something so mundane when there was so much going on. Being shot at. Killing O’Sean. Losing my job. Falling into a fae orgy pit. Being chased by men in black. It all felt so far away out here.
Feish brought me out a drink, and then she brought out buckets of water that I poured around the sage, peonies, and climbing ivy covered in impossible flowers. A rainbow of colors burst above my head like fireworks as I weeded around the base of the ivy.
Suzy joined me, weeding with me, and Feish kept bringing us water to pour over the roots. A little effort from all made the hours slide by, particularly since Suzy entertained us by talking smack about the Hollows Group trainees and mentors. How Louis thought he was going to be in charge but Eammon wouldn’t back down. How the trainees, minus yours truly, had gone out after that first night of passing the entrance exams. They’d danced in a club for supernaturals and Luke had ended up disappearing with someone. No one knew who, but he’d come back a few hours later with a grin on his face. They’d teased him mercilessly about it. She told us how Tom secretly (or maybe not so secretly, seeing as Suzy knew) wanted to bring the Hollows more dignity and respect. “He’s tired of us all being the butt of some grand joke,” she said.
All good info, but it was that last bit that caught my attention.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked as I pulled a particularly deep weed out. A flutter of wings turned us all to the left as Kinkly dropped out of the branches of the peony tree that sat between the two houses. Eric, who’d joined us from the far side of the garden, slowed in his gardening and blinked rapidly at her. “She did come.”
“The Hollows Group is a joke,” Kinkly said softly, as she gave Eric a wave. “But seeing as the council ignores the majority of those they are supposed to protect, it’s all the rest of us have.”
I sat back on my heels, grimaced, and let myself fall back onto my butt, which also made me wince. Suzy snickered. “New definition of having a hot ass, isn’t it?”
Carefully I leaned back, doing my best not to react. “So the Hollows is a joke.” I turned to Eric. “Why did you come to them for help?”
Eric grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t want to say it.”
Suzy shared a look with Feish, who shrugged. “You tell her, she might not believe me.”
“That isn’t fair,” I said. “You are my friend, why do you think I wouldn’t believe you?”
Suzy sat with her back against the wrought iron fence. “Because she works for Crash, and Crash and the Hollows are known to butt heads. And what I’m about to say sounds like bashing.”
As if Crash’s history with the Hollows meant anything to me. “Just tell me what you two mean. And why would you want to work for them if they’re a joke?” And really, why would Corb? Or Eammon? The remaining mentors all seemed like they had it together, except for Sarge, who’d pulled a Jekyll/Hyde act. Which I was still attributing to some sort of spell with the O’Seans, even if I couldn’t figure out why he’d turned on me, in particular.
Something wasn’t adding up.
Kinkly landed on my bent knee. “The council has its own police force. Savannah Council Enforcement. SCE. They handle most of the legitimate cases. The ones that intersect with the humans a lot. They get paid well, have benefits, have all sorts of status in the shadow world.” Her eyes darted to Feish, who nodded. Interesting. Kinkly tapped my knee, drawi
ng my eyes back to her. “People only come to the Hollows if they’re desperate. The jobs they get are on the fringes of even the shadow world, they don’t pay well, though they tell the recruits that they do, and they’re few and far between. You changed that when you took Hattie out. Not everyone likes that the Hollows Group is gaining some status.”
That made me think of Eric’s case, of the way he’d been ignored by Eammon and the others. They hadn’t wanted to take it on, and not because of the money . . . because they thought he was full of shit and didn’t want to look worse than they already did. How many cases had they let go because of that reasoning? Probably a lot.
Which meant a lot of people had been hurt while they were trying to gain status. Anger thrummed through me as I considered all the implications.
“Then why did you sign up with them?” I tossed the question at Suzy, who smiled, though there was no happiness in it.
“Because I am part siren, the council would never gainfully employ me. They won’t take half-men—or women for that matter—or anyone who can manipulate minds. They also don’t hire leprechauns. And I wanted to do something for this world of ours. I might be a diva now and again, but this is my home.”
I nodded, understanding that reasoning, then frowned. “That leaves spell casters. Necromancers. They’re pretty much the only ones the council would be able to hire.”
The other three women and Eric all nodded slowly. Feish crouched as if it cost her knees nothing to stay all bent up like a pretzel. “They don’t like taking women either,” she added, “not just shifter women.”
“They make a mockery of the Hollows whenever they can. But your success with Eric caught their attention,” Kinkly said softly. “Caught a lot of attention. Everyone has their eyes on you.”
“Is that why we got shot at?” I looked at Eric and he pushed his glasses up his nose even though he didn’t really need to.
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “But the rest of what they are saying is true. I’m surprised you didn’t know about the Savannah Council Enforcers. Some are even in good with the local human police. I don’t know much more than that. They wouldn’t consider my case. Told me I was being a fool.”
I looked at the ground below me, thinking. I hadn’t heard of this police force. But until recently, I hadn’t heard of the Hollows either, and I said as much. “Where are they? I mean, I haven’t seen any of them around.”
“They are secretive, they won’t let you see them until they want to be seen,” Suzy said. “Likely they are watching all of the Hollows recruits right now to see if any good ones slipped through the cracks.”
I looked at her. “You mean you don’t know where their headquarters are?”
Suzy shook her head. “If you want an interview, you have to send a letter through the council. If you’re chosen to test, then you’re taken to their very secret training facility.”
Sounded an awful lot like the Hollows Group to me.
As I lifted my eyes, Gran floated into my line of vision. “Neither the SCE nor the Hollows existed before you left.” Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “The council decided they wanted more control after the—”
Eric and surprisingly Robert spoke together a single word: “Outbreak.”
That set me back on my heels. “What outbreak?”
“‘Yellow fever,’” Eric said, his hands making air quotes around the words. “There were a half dozen cases, mostly in the shadow world, but a couple of humans were also infected. The council managed to clamp down on it, but it was a terrifying few months. After that, they decided they needed a new police force. And Eammon and his friends figured there was enough protection and policing work to go around for two groups. And there you go.”
This was a good chunk of information to take in all at once. I blew out a big breath. “That’s a lot of information. What do you mean by yellow fever in air quotes?” I remembered a couple of the mentors talking about that, but it had happened right after my interview with the Hollows Group, and there’d been enough weird to drive it right out of my mind.
Eric cleared his throat and fiddled with his bowtie. “Have you noticed there is no talk of vampires? Surely your gran told you what happened to them?”
Gran was there, but she said nothing. I frowned and pulled up a few weeds. “Nothing I can recall.”
Suzy picked up the thread. “The yellow fever epidemic is the reason those bodies were sunk in the river all those years ago, but it wasn’t actually yellow fever that killed all those people. It was a plague of vampirism. The shadow world covered it up—we manipulated the humans into believing they were sick and dying because of the plague, not because of vampire attacks. We wiped out the vampires, but in doing so we revealed ourselves. Which is why so many of us died. It’s also why . . . things are as they are now. Why the two worlds are so separate.”
Duck me sideways and upside down. I wanted to laugh and say good one, funny joke. But I could feel the truth of it in my bones, as if I’d known it before she said the words, which was stupid. There was something about vampires in Gran’s book, but I hadn’t gotten to it yet.
Kinkly flexed her wings. “The shadow world . . . is not what it once was. Things are changing, and I don’t think for the better. Not all the players are here for the reasons they should be, I think—”
Above our heads the loud blare of a crow cut her off and I found myself on my feet, the shovel raised above my head like I was stepping up to bat. Another loud caw and the bird flew away in a burst of movement that left behind a large black feather, which floated down to the center of our little gathering, a chill sliding through the air with it.
I stared at the feather. “Let me guess, that’s a bad sign?”
Suzy poked at it with her toe. “Maybe? I don’t know enough about signs and omens.”
“Me neither,” Feish said. “At least not signs that birds leave. Fish, yes, but not birds.”
“Kinkly?” I turned to the fairy, but her eyes were locked on the feather. “Kink?”
“You need to be at the fairy ring tonight,” she whispered. “Karissa said the card is a warning and you need to heed it. Be careful. Please be careful. They are close.”
With a flutter of wings she shot forward, scooped up the feather, paused to touch Eric gently on the cheek, which left him blushing, and then she was gone too. I frowned. “That can’t be good.”
“The fae are a funny folk,” Suzy said, and when I glanced at her with raised eyebrows she shrugged. “I know a little about them, they are close cousins to sirens. Not enough to help you out, though.”
A cloud crept over the sun and that little bit of darkness was enough to drive us inside. Enough weeding for one day. Eric hurried ahead of us and went straight for the kitchen. I began to wonder if he baked when he was stressed.
I had no problem with that.
Back inside, Suzy went straight to her phone and scooped it up. “Luke just left me a message. The Hollows isn’t training tonight.”
“No? Any reason why?” A little chill rolled along my spine. First the raven feather, then the cloud, and now training had been cancelled for the first time in . . . well, as long as I’d been there. Sure, it didn’t affect us anymore, but something strange was happening. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
Look at me go, forty-one and rocking my intuition.
Suzy shook her head. “No reason from Luke. I think we should train here, though. We can use the backyard, practice what we’ve been learning.”
Gran bobbled between us, and though Suzy couldn’t see her, she shivered and rubbed her arms. “The girl is right. You still need to train. Your mind and your body.” She pointed up the stairs to where I’d left the leather-bound book of her spells.
A smile tried to work across my face. “I’m going to get my gran’s book. We can use it and Eric for the not-body training.”
They raised their eyebrows at me but said nothing.
“Not body training?” I muttered to
myself as I stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the second level of the three-story house. Standing there, looking up, it felt like climbing those stairs might be a task not unlike climbing Mount Everest. My body did not like all this running, training, digging, fighting, being shot. I sighed and put my hand on the banister as a floorboard above my head let out a low groan.
I might have chalked it up to Gran waiting for me upstairs, except I’d just seen her in the kitchen with Feish and Eric, showing the bigfoot where she’d stashed some good herbs.
Which meant someone else was in the house, someone who shouldn’t be. Biting back a groan, I lowered myself into a crouch and crept up the stairs, avoiding the two that squeaked no matter how lightly you stepped on them.
Right hand on the banister, left hand on the knife strapped to my thigh, I popped off the leather strap that secured it in place. Part of me—whatever was left of the Breena who’d lived in Seattle for twenty-ish years—was freaked out at the thought of pulling a knife on an intruder, never mind actually knowing how to use it.
But the rest of me was all outta ducks, and whoever this asshat was who’d climbed into my gran’s house was about to get his ass and his hat handed to him.
I stayed in a crouch at the top of the stairs, forcing my legs to take me forward. The creak had come from my room—I would have recognized the timbre of that sound even if I’d been half dead. Maybe that wasn’t the best comparison given how my life had been going lately.
Another creak and I stood and pinned myself to the wall next to the closed door of my bedroom. Someone had some serious balls letting themselves in like that. I mean, even if Crash hadn’t bought it, the house had belonged to Gran, it was haunted, and there were people living here. People who were currently in the house.
I tightened my hold on the knife and reached across to grab the doorknob as it turned. I jerked back and plastered myself as flat as I could to the wall. The person who stepped out was worse than any monster I could have come up with on my own, worse than a werewolf, a goblin, or, God forbid, a vampire.
Midlife Fairy Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 2 Page 18