Gift of Secrets

by Amir Lane

  Ariadne opened my door and helped me out.

  “You’re coming?” I asked, trying to keep from sounding like I didn’t want her to.

  “You can barely stand. I’m coming.”

  She wrapped her arm around my waist. It didn’t seem important to tell her I could actually walk fine on my own, and it did make it easier to walk when I could lean into her. The smell of her deodorant was a familiar comfort.

  The building was nearly empty at this hour, most people having gone home by now. It wasn’t difficult to find Kieron hunched over the end of the bar. There was a glass in his hand. Ariadne let me go, but she stayed close. I sat in the empty seat next to Kieron. My stomach trembled from the pain. I sucked it up. Just a few minutes. I could handle it.

  This close to him, I could see the white hairs along his temple and in his short beard. He wasn’t that much older than me, was he? Stress could age a person terribly.

  “How many of these have you had?” I asked quietly.

  He shrugged. In the hand not swirling the brown liquid in the glass was what looked like a loonie. He held it up between two fingers, and I saw it wasn’t a coin. I’d never seen one before, but I thought it might have been an Alcoholics Anonymous chip.

  “Three years, four months, and twenty-one days,” he said. “Been sober since I found out about Gwendolyn.”

  There was a story about his daughter, about how he hadn’t known about her until her mother’s death. The officers at the 52nd division still laughed about the tiny Irish girl who’d walked up to reception and asked if they would be so kind as to call her father, Detective Kieron Harper, to collect her. Having met Gwendolyn Harper myself, I absolutely believed the story.

  “You wanted to be the best you could for her,” I said.

  “I wasn’t good enough for Elias. Me step-sister took him in. All us said it was ‘cause of me job, but… I was a drunk. Couldn’t stay sober a day if my life depended on it.” He sniffed and tapped the glass against the bar. “Was terrified of becoming like my ol’ man. He was a mean drunk. Used to beat on me. All of us. Mum died when I was young, brother was smart enough to get out when he could. Dad married again, but it didn’t last. Banshees don’t take shit.”

  A lump the size of a golf ball stuck in my throat. I swallowed it down and cupped my hands over his to take his drink from him. He tightened his grip for a moment, but relented. I pulled the glass away and rubbed his shoulder.

  “You didn’t deserve that,” I assured him.

  “He knew I was witchbreed long ‘fore I did. Mum was, too. You can’t be witchbreed in Ireland. An’ for a man to be a hearth witch, it’s—” He shook his head.

  I had never heard the words ‘witchbreed’ or ‘hearth witch’ but I didn’t need to to understand the context. Not all parts of the world were as accepting of the parahuman. Back home, the constantly-changing political climate always made it a risk. Many parts of the world colonized by the British were still struggling with the aftermath of witch hunts. Even Canada had its issues. From what I’d heard, most of the British Isles had similar problems.

  Hearth witch must have been another word for kitchen witch. Elias had explained that they used the energies that naturally existed in plants to create spells. I wasn’t sure where that fell in the United Kingdom’s hierarchy of acceptability, but based on the tremble in his voice, it wasn’t high. I squeezed his hands with both of mine. I was vaguely aware of Ariadne’s presence behind me, but I didn’t turn to see her reaction to Kieron’s words.

  “You aren’t your father, Kieron. You are nothing like him. Gwendolyn and Elias are lucky to have you in their lives. We all are.”

  He let out a dry chuckle. I gave in and looked back at Ariadne standing a few feet behind me. Her expression was sympathetic.

  “I didn’t even know Gwendolyn’s mother was pregnant. It was before I… Before Merrick. If I’d known, I’d have done right by her.” He looked at me like it was important for me to know that. “I’d have married her if I’d known. Never woulda’ left Ireland.”

  “I know,” I said quietly. “You’re a good man.”

  It was important for him to know that. I closed my eyes against the dizziness that washed over me. The chip clicked against the countertop. How could the bartender give him drinks? It was irresponsible at best.

  “Flor was my best friend back in the army,” Kieron said quietly. “He’s probably the reason I got out of there alive.”

  I didn’t want to know if he meant Finín helped him survive his service or kept him from killing himself. It had never occurred to me before that Kieron had been suicidal. He’d never seemed like the type, though I supposed they never did. Now, it was all I could think about when I looked at him. Was there going to be a day when he—

  No, I couldn’t think like that. Kieron didn’t need me tiptoeing around him. He needed me to be his friend, the same as always. All of us — him, me, Rowan, Indira — had seen some of the worst things the world had to offer. It was only natural for us to feel suicidal. Whether we gave into the urges or not, it didn’t make us weak or fragile. He didn’t need me treating him like he was. He needed me to do exactly what I was doing; be there for him when he needed the support.

  “I haven’t seen him since I left Ireland. We emailed, but it wasn’t the same. If I’d kept in touch better, maybe I would have—”

  I squeezed his hand as tight as I could. He didn’t even seem to notice.

  “None of this was your fault, Kieron. He fooled Interpol for months. They saw him every day, and they didn’t know.”

  “He took a personal leave. Nobody had reason to notice.”

  “Exactly. If they had no reason to notice, how could you? Kieron, how could you have been expected to notice what they didn’t? You weren't even on the same continent.”

  He didn’t answer. The pain on his face made my veins burn. I imagined there was some investigation going on into how O’Rourke had managed to infiltrate Interpol for three whole months. I tried not to think about what else had happened three months ago. If I hadn’t killed Bromley, would the Birches have felt the need to send in O’Rourke? Audra might have had some more answers.

  Where is Audra?

  I had some vague recollection of someone, maybe Indira, telling me she was going to France to sort out everything that had happened since Finín Quinn had mysteriously removed references to her in Interpol’s system. The only reason she wasn’t sitting in a cell somewhere was because there were enough people at Interpol who remembered her. What was she going to do now? Could she go back undercover after this? She didn’t have much of a life in the outside world. It made me feel sorry for her. I would have to see if there was anything I could do for her. It wasn’t fair that yet another life should be ruined over the Black Birches. They couldn’t keep doing these things and getting away with it.

  “I loved him, you know. First man I ever kissed. First man I ever—“

  He cut himself off with a swallow. He stared out absently at the wall. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  I wished more than anything that there was something — anything — I could do to fix this.

  Kieron let out a long, shuddery breath.

  “They found his body in a freezer in his own basement. Been there for months. I’m— I’m flying out next week for the funeral.”

  I nodded, unsure of what else to say. When I looked back at Ariadne for guidance, she was wiping tears from her face.

  “We should get you home,” I said softly. “Did you drive?”

  He shook his head. “Took a cab.”

  Which meant he’d planned on drinking from the start of the night. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. At least it meant he’d never had any intention of driving himself home in this state.

  Kieron stood and left a crumpled handful of twenties on the counter. The bartender wished us a goodnight, which I returned with a dirty glare. Ariadne took Kieron’s arm.<
br />
  “I am so happy you two found each other,” he said to her. “Love is the most important thing. Blood don’t mean shit. You make your own family. And you found a good one. She’s an idiot, but she’d do anything for you.”

  Ariadne only agreed with a nod. She didn’t look at me. I wondered if she was thinking about the blood that had abandoned her, and the family she was finding with mine.

  The drive to his apartment was quiet. The radio was the only thing breaking the silence. I was too focused on breathing through the pain in my stomach to say anything. Every now and then, I lifted my head to look in the vanity mirror to check if Kieron was asleep. He was resting the side of his head against the window and looking out of it. He lifted his head when we pulled up to his apartment. I’d never seen him nervous before. He was probably wondering what Merrick was going to say.

  I undid my seatbelt and slipped out of the car. When I opened the back door, Kieron’s head jerked as if he’d been half-asleep. He didn’t lean his weight into me as I helped him out of the car, though he did press against me.

  “Your parents should be proud of you,” he said. His words weren’t as slurred now as they had been. “If Gwen’s half as decent as you when she grows up, I’ll know I haven’t fucked her up.”

  “She’s already an angel,” I said.

  He snorted with a grin. “She’s a nightmare and a half. Her an’ Elias. I don’t know where they get it.”

  “You encourage them to be themselves.”

  He laughed tiredly, but didn’t argue. We took the elevator to the third floor. His keys wouldn’t fit into the lock. The noise must have been enough for Merrick’s ears. The door swung open. Relief and anger mingled on his glamour-smoothed face. I didn’t know many faeries who wore glamour but I’d never seen Merrick without it. Even his sharp teeth looked human when he smiled. The only indication that he wasn’t actually as human as he looked were the emerald eyes that almost glowed as he looked at me.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked.

  His accent wasn’t quite like Kieron’s. It was similar, but different. He was from Wales, if I remembered right.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “He… I’m sorry.”

  Merrick nodded. His eyes were locked on mine. It made me uneasy until I realized he was trying not to look at Kieron. His reaction was too calm not to have known Kieron had relapsed before now.

  “Thank you for bringing him home. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  When I got back to the car, Ariadne was gripping the steering wheel and her jaw was hard. Tears still rolled down her cheeks. My heart sped up.

  This was it. This was going to be the moment she decided I was too much for her.

  I settled back into the passenger seat without a word. She didn’t say anything either, or start the car. The silence was physically painful.

  “Are you mad?” I asked quietly.

  “I’m furious.”

  I winced. Here it was. She slammed her palm against the rim of the steering wheel.

  “Those people are poison! They ruin everything. They— They are monsters. Every last one of them.”

  The venom in her voice caught me off guard. I had seen her angry plenty of times before but I’d never seen her so angry it made her cry. I dragged my thumb over the seam of my jeans.

  “I don’t want to quit,” I said. “I’m sure the department won’t let me investigate officially, and the Black Birches will keep sending people after me, but—”

  Ariadne twisted to face me. Even crying from anger, she was, without a single doubt, the most beautiful woman on the planet. I wiped her tears with my thumb. She leaned into my hand, then inched forward to kiss me. It was brief, and didn’t last nearly long enough. When she pulled back, her expression was stern.

  “I don’t want you to quit. They deserve everything they have coming to them.”

  I swallowed a little. It wasn’t enough to get my hopes up over. She couldn’t have been saying what I thought — hoped — she was saying.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She took my hand and squeezed it.

  “Let’s give them hell.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It felt like a lifetime since I'd been home. The painkillers were wearing off, and all I wanted to do was lay in my own bed for a few hours. I didn't even care about showering yet, even though I smelled like the bar and my own sweat.

  Of course, as soon as I stepped inside, I realized I couldn't do either of those.

  I grabbed the back of Ariadne’s shirt and pulled her behind me.

  “What—?”

  I pressed my index to my lips and motioned for her to stay back. She hesitated for a moment, then ran to the car.

  I couldn't say what it was that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. It could have been exhaustion or a fear that had sunk into my subconscious after days on the run. I didn't think that was it, though. I trusted my gut, and my gut told me somebody was in my house. Without my gun, all I had to rely on was my barriers. Reaching down for the magic thrumming beneath my skin was a mistake. A stab of pain ran through my temples. I swallowed down a hiss as Ariadne reappeared at the edge of my vision with something in her hands.

  “I told you to get back,” I said.

  “You don't have your gun.”

  “Is that a taser? Where did you get a taser?”

  “I bought it. Should we call the cops?”

  “I am the cops.”

  “The ones who aren't half-concussed?”

  The correct answer was yes, of course. The odds of anybody other than somebody from the Black Birches breaking into my house right after I'd been released from the hospital were slim at best. There weren’t many options as to who else could be here. I knew who I was hoping for, though, and that thin glimmer of hope made me shake my head. Besides, after the entire debacle with Rutherford Bromley making Former-Inspector Vance try to sabotage my career, not to mention Iain O’Rourke infiltrating Interpol, I didn’t know if I could even trust the police.

  “Call Indira,” I whispered.

  Right now, Indira, Kieron, and Sabine were the only people I trusted. With Kieron currently drunk and Sabine’s loyalties being to the department above anybody else, Indira was the best choice. Besides, he lived closer than Sabine did. He wasn’t closer than the nearest police cruiser would be, but he would also be less likely to shoot Rowan if he was the one inside. Of course, if it wasn’t Rowan who had broken into my house but a member of the Black Birches, shooting them might not be so bad.

  Ariadne was right behind me, taser in one hand while she called Indira with the other. Even when I shot her a look that should have told her to stay back, she stayed at my heels.

  We should have waited for backup. We really should have. But we were already inside, and there was no doubt whoever else is in here knew it too.

  “Toronto Police,” I called. “Come out with your hands up.”

  A creak from my left told me the intruder was in the dining room. I held my hand out for the taser. She didn’t give it to me.

  Really? I wanted to say. We’re doing this now?

  There was absolutely no way in hell I was going to put her in this kind of danger. After a moment of tense silence and an annoyed huff, she pushed the taser into my hand. I pointed toward the still-open front door and nudged her toward it. She hesitated again, but relented after another moment. Most of me was glad she was moving away from danger, but part of me really, really wished I had any kind of backup right now.

  Whoever had broken into my house had done it for a reason, either to kill me or steal something. I didn’t have too many things of obvious value. Thee house itself was the only thing worth insuring. Sure, I liked my fancy jewelry, but it wasn’t as though I had money to burn. My charmed rings were worth a small fortune to anybody who might recognize what they were. What else would somebody want from here?

  My blood ran cold at the realization of what else I had here. All my research into the Black
Birches. The box Rowan had left me had no doubt been destroyed in the fire, but few people might have known them. If word hadn’t gotten around about the fire, the Black Birches might have thought I still had it.

  If they were willing to send Iain O’Rourke after me, if they were willing to send somebody to break into my house to look for it… Ariadne could have been in danger this entire time. God, I was so stupid. I never should have mentioned the damned thing. How could I have thought I could trust ‘Finín Quinn’? How could I have thought I could trust anybody?

  I forced the thoughts out of my aching head. I had to keep calm. I could put up a barrier long enough to hit them with the taser.

  “Toronto Police. Last warning. Come out with your hands up.”

  I took a deep breath and rounded the corner into the dining room. Pushing the barrier into my hand made me feel like I’d taken a baseball bat to the head. I grit my teeth against the pain.

  Iridescent eyes glowed against the light of it.

  “Don’t shoot! I’m not armed! I mean— I think I’m not armed? I am very sure I’m not armed.”

  The familiar Italian accent made me drop the barrier. I stepped back and fumbled against the wall for the light switch. Light flooded the room. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

  “Angelo?” Ariadne said. “What the hell are you doing here? What happened to you?”

  The man in front of me didn’t quite look like the self-assured flirt who had helped me kill Rutherford Bromley or who had come to visit me in prison or who had—

  The image of Angelo holding a gun in his mouth came out of nowhere. The click of the gun, the way his brain matter sprayed out the back of his head. The way he lay there, most of his skull in pieces, blood and brain all over the floor and walls.