Between Floors (The City Between Book 3)

by W. R. Gingell

  JinYeong chose that moment to saunter back into the living room from the kitchen, raising an insolent brow at the two fae as he passed them to stand by Zero.

  That reminded me that I was pretty close to hiding behind the wooden beam, and I shuffled a bit closer to Zero as well.

  The golden fae said in a rich, plummy voice, “What is that thing doing with you?”

  Okay, that was rude.

  I glared at the fae, crossing my arms, but held my tongue. Zero had said not to talk if I could avoid it. I was not gunna talk.

  It wasn’t until I saw JinYeong baring his teeth at the golden fae that I realised I wasn’t the one being talked about, after all. He said something snarly and bloody, prowling a few steps back toward the fae, and Zero held out one arm to stop him.

  “Don’t stop it,” said the golden fae, his top lip curling back in disgust. “I’ll be happy to put it out of its misery once and for all.”

  “Hyeong,” said JinYeong, a laugh trembling on his voice and his eyes bright with death. “Ah, hyeong, jinjja andwaeyo?”

  “Sit down, JinYeong,” Zero said.

  JinYeong, very elegantly, very deliberately, sat down on our usual couch and crossed one leg over the other, watching the golden fae through his lashes. His mouth was pursed mockingly as usual, but I could see the bloody darkness to his eyes.

  “I really don’t know why you make such things a part of your unit,” the golden fae said.

  I nearly grinned. For once, I wasn’t the one who was being treated like I wasn’t there—or like I was something someone had scraped off their boot after a walk through the back paddock. It was nice for a change.

  Hang on, though.

  Who did this prissy little fae think he was, to come into our house and make remarks about JinYeong?

  “Who’s this galah?” I demanded.

  The fae looked down the bridge of his nose at me, a slight, well-bred frown between his straight golden brows. “What is that?” he asked, in a pained voice. It sounded like he’d been trying not to notice me as much as he could and regretted that he couldn’t do so any longer.

  “I’m a pet,” I said, and champed my teeth at him. “I bite, too, so watch it.”

  I mean, JinYeong is an annoying little git, but he’s our annoying little git, and no one should be allowed to bother him except us.

  “It’s our pet,” said Zero briefly. “Ignore it. Coffee, Pet.”

  “And refreshments,” said the fae sharply.

  I was pretty sure I wasn’t imagining the way the female fae’s eyes flicked briefly toward the ceiling. I met her eyes by accident as she smoothed out her expression again, and for the very smallest amount of time I saw a gleam of amusement to them.

  If it comes right down to it, I’d rather have my masters than hers, anyway.

  I took myself off into the kitchen to see what I had around. Good thing I’d been shopping yesterday. And that I already had a few things ready in the fridge.

  Good thing there was a decent blood supply, too. I grinned and took out one of the bags. I’d been meaning to try something—might as well do that today.

  I wasn’t grinning when I came back out with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and coffee, though. That would have been stupid. Athelas wasn’t here to have tea, but I brought out a pot as well; I figured the female fae would probably like it, and it wasn’t like she’d done anything to annoy me.

  I was right; she went right for the pot while the golden fae went for a cup of coffee and the hors d’oeuvres. She might even have tipped her head slightly at me in thanks, and that was more than my three psychos usually did, either. I gave her a bit of a grin and pushed the butter shortbreads toward her. Athelas always likes those, too.

  Plus I was pretty sure she wouldn’t like the other stuff I’d brought out.

  Zero took his usual biscuits, too. He asked the golden fae, “Why are the Enforcers suddenly interested in my unit again?”

  Rats. I’d missed stuff while I was in the kitchen. I should have been listening.

  “The Enforcers are always interested in your unit,” said the golden fae. “Particularly when it seems as though it’s beginning to mimic a unit you once formed with—”

  “This unit is different,” Zero said harshly.

  “Is it?” The golden fae reached for a butter shortbread, then drew his hand back and took one of the darker snacks on the tray—one of the savoury ones with mince and a few other things in them.

  In his seat, JinYeong suddenly leaned forward, his eyes flickering from the hors d’oeuvres to the golden fae, and then up at me. I blinked back at him expressionlessly, and he sat back again.

  “That’s a shame,” said the golden fae. “I was sent to give you permission to start such a unit once again—on the strict understanding that it won’t be officially acknowledged.”

  Zero, his voice quiet and dangerous, asked, “What makes it different from the last one, in that case?”

  “They won’t countenance it, but they won’t obstruct it, either. Not this time. Things are becoming messy Between, and the human world needs closer policing.”

  “Why not make a proper unit—or units, in that case?”

  The golden fae sipped his coffee. “Even someone as far away from Behind politics as yourself must realise that Behindkind don’t appreciate humans being protected at the expense of Behindkind.”

  “More than anyone,” said Zero, with the same kind of emphasis as the other fae, “I know exactly how much Behindkind don’t appreciate humans being protected at the expense of Behindkind.”

  “Thus it happens that I come to see you,” said the golden fae, and finally bit into the savoury snack.

  I counted to about three before he spat it out, retching against the back of his hand. Behind him, the female fae went very stone-like, her face as still as a statue’s. I was pretty sure she was trying hard not to laugh.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, to the retching fae. “That’s one of JinYeong’s. You probably shouldn’t eat those. They’re a bit fresh.”

  He got himself under control, face red and eyes watering. “There’s fresh blood in it!”

  “That’s what I said. JinYeong likes his refreshments with a bit of blood in them. You want the ones that are on the other side of the plate.”

  “I am no longer hungry!” snapped the fae.

  “Pet,” said Zero, and although his voice was quiet, it wasn’t dangerous quiet. Actually, I wasn’t sure exactly what tone it had to it. “Take these refreshments back into the kitchen. Leave the coffee. Stay in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, boss,” I said cheerfully. I gathered up everything that was edible—plus the golden fae’s cup, which he put back on the tray with an expression of disgust—and took myself off into the kitchen again.

  I mean, I could still eavesdrop from the kitchen, and at least there I didn’t have to look at the golden fae’s smug little face.

  I heard his nasty plummy voice say, “Is it safe to be keeping that where it can see so much?”

  “The pet is useful to me,” Zero said, his voice flat and unanswerable.

  “I suppose you can always dispose of it when it has reached the end of its usefulness,” the golden fae said, but he sounded dissatisfied.

  “I’m more use than you are,” I muttered to myself. “At least I can cook. At least I can tell the difference between cooked and uncooked pastries.”

  “As for your offer—”

  I held my breath. Take it, Zero. Take the offer. We could look after humans who are being hurt by Behindkind.

  “—we’re declining it.”

  I let out a small, bitter huff of air. That would have been too much to ask, I suppose. Maybe he could be convinced. Maybe he just needed to be reminded of his human side. Maybe—

  “Perhaps you feel like you can’t make a decision at once,” said the golden fae, a disagreeable ally.

  “I’ve made my decision.”

  “I’ve been instructed to revisit you in a month’s time
to hear your final answer.”

  “I’ve given you my final answer.”

  “Even so,” said the golden fae, his voice straining to remain polite. “I will return again in a month’s time to hear your final answer.”

  I grinned at the wrong scenery outside the window. I might not like Zero’s answer to the proposition being offered, but I was pretty happy about how much it annoyed the fae. I was also fairly certain that when the fae came back to meet us again, he wouldn’t find it as easy as he thought to get back.

  There was a faint rustling from the living room, and I caught the play of shadows against the wall. I wondered if Zero knew the shadows were set off by foliage on the breeze, caught in streetlight from the real windows instead of the ones that looked like they were there. It was all fake daylight out there, and I wouldn’t put it past the fae to realise the light and shadows weren’t quite in the right place.

  Should I go in there and make a distraction?

  Bad idea, said a voice inside me that had an edge of Zero’s voice to it. Luckily, Zero herded the two fae back toward the linen cupboard before I had the chance to do more than take a few steps back toward the living room.

  Neither of them looked in my direction as they passed the kitchen, which was probably just as well since I was supposed to be being unnoticeable. I mean, I hadn’t done that great of a job, but no one had actually tried to kill me today, so that was a win.

  I took some mince out of the freezer for dinner, feeling pleased with myself. There was still going to be a bit of a battle when it came to convincing Zero to take what he’d been offered, I had no doubt about that, but in general, life felt vaguely promising.

  Down the hall, the door to the linen cupboard closed with a distinct snap, and the play of light and shadow from the windows fluttered. I looked toward the closest window and saw the normal view; mostly darkness with a bit of tree and shrub lit by the streetlights. Things felt a bit colder, too, but that could have been the shadow falling across the floor from the direction of the living room.

  Zero stood in the doorway.

  I smiled hopefully at him, and the smallest of lines formed between his brows, like he was in pain. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  With the air of a man who gives up on everything, he vanished from the door.

  I would have followed him out, but in his wake came JinYeong, prowling into the room to lean elegantly against the kitchen island.

  I looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

  JinYeong narrowed his eyes at me. “Noh mwohya?”

  “What?” I demanded again.

  His eyes flicked away, mouth pursed in discontent, and I saw his gaze fall on the plate of remaining snacks. His face brightened, and he reached for one of the ones the golden fae had spat out in disgust earlier.

  “Wouldn’t eat that one, ’f’I was you,” I advised.

  Suspiciously, JinYeong asked something I was pretty sure was blood snack, yes?

  “Nah,” I told him. “That’s one with holy water.”

  He flicked it back down with a hiss, then looked at me and reached for it again. “Anin ko,” he said.

  I don’t think so.

  I grinned at him. “Wanna bet on it?”

  He stopped with his hand halfway there, eyes on me. He was almost completely certain there was nothing bad in it. But with me grinning at him, he couldn’t be sure, and there was no way he wanted to give me the satisfaction of spitting it out in front of me.

  I blinked innocently at him, and that did it.

  JinYeong said, “Aish!” and turned on his heel, stalking away into the living room.

  “Sure you don’t want it?” I called after him. “Made fresh today!”

  He threw himself into our couch, taking up the whole thing by way of revenge, and regarded the ceiling coolly as if that’s what he had been going to do with his morning, anyway. I put away the piece he’d been about to pick up for later. It didn’t have holy water in it. I mean, I don’t have a death wish or anything.

  I followed him out into the living room again, since the house had stopped being another house and was back to being itself. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about shadows being in weird places or my foot going through the carpet again.

  “You lot going to be looking after humans now?” I asked. I knew he wasn’t, but maybe if I could—

  “No,” said Zero. “We are not forming the kind of unit that protects humans.”

  Hopefully, I suggested, “Not officially?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Oh,” I said sadly.

  “Pet—”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re big important fae, and you don’t have time to make sure burbling humanity isn’t taken advantage of.”

  “Ne,” said JinYeong.

  “Protecting humans is a useless venture,” said Zero brusquely. “One is saved, and ten die. They run headlong into danger and disregard common sense, and they die on a breath. There’s no sensible way to take care of them.”

  “I haven’t died yet,” I reminded him.

  Zero looked at me for a silent moment, then said, “I told you to stay unnoticed.”

  “I’m not the one who was nearly puking on the carpet,” I said. “It was that galah. I was flamin’ quiet.”

  “Jal haesso, Petteu,” said JinYeong, and patted me on the head as he sauntered past on his way to the bathroom.

  “What, is he going out?” I asked. “What for?”

  “He’s looking for some information for me,” Zero said. “Don’t change the subject. Insulting fae Enforcers and giving them blood to eat is not staying unnoticed. You’re fortunate he thought you’re an idiot.”

  “There’s a change,” I muttered. Imagine that. Fae thinking I was an idiot.

  Zero didn’t reply, and maybe that made me a bit too confident. It felt as though, even though he was chiding me, he wasn’t exactly angry about the golden fae.

  “What about Detective Tuatu?” I asked. “He’s gunna need some help. Someone’s trying to frame him for murder, and I don’t reckon they’re going to stop just because it didn’t work the first time.”

  “Pet,” said Zero. “You’re a stray. Don’t bring home strays of your own.”

  “I’m not a stray,” I said, with dignity. “This is my house.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “And if you make more trouble than you’re worth, I’ll erase your memories and leave you out on the street to follow someone else home.”

  “Detective Tuatu’s not a stray, either,” I said, because I couldn’t say what I really wanted to say. Not if I wanted to stay here in my house.

  Then I went back to the kitchen, with hot, tight eyes, and did the washing up.

  Just have to last a few more months, I told myself. Or maybe it would be a year or two. Who cared if Zero was cold and horrible, so long as I got my house in the end? Who cared what the fae thought, anyway? I’d have my house, and myself, and quietness again.

  I wondered if the old mad bloke had ever thought that. I wondered what he’d been like before the fae made him mad. Probably like me, trying to doggy paddle at the edges of water that was too vast and violent and incomprehensible to survive in. It was probably why he went mad.

  I waited until I heard the shower turning on for a second time before I wandered back out into the living room and sat on my couch. I’d already felt JinYeong leaving the house while I was in the kitchen, with the faint tug of reality being pulled aside, so I let myself lounge out a bit into his space, staring up at the ceiling and wondering about stuff in general.

  Stuff like the way my hearing was getting better—or maybe just growing in a different direction—and the fact that if I wanted to keep tabs on how Detective Tuatu was doing, I’d have to be pretty sneaky about it.

  I glanced across at my phone, still sitting on the coffee table, and wondered if I dared call him on it. Not until Zero had a look at it, probably. Not, I realised belatedly, at this time of day, either.
/>   When the shower turned off and Zero emerged, I could have asked him to look at the phone. Instead, I pretended to be asleep. And yeah, I know it was childish of me, but there was a raw patch at the back of my throat, or maybe it was further down in my chest, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  Zero didn’t notice. At least, I don’t think he did. I only knew he’d walked past me because I saw the flicker of darkness through my eyelids as he passed in front of the light, and when I opened my eyes just a crack, he was nowhere to be seen. He’d probably gone to bed for the few hours’ sleep he usually takes.

  I should have done the same thing, but I didn’t; I fell asleep on the couch again. It wasn’t that I was waiting for Athelas. I wasn’t. But I’d made tea while Zero was in the shower, and if Athelas didn’t come home in time, I’d have to empty the pot before the leaves got all stuck to the pot, right?

  I fell asleep instead, and maybe it was a cold morning, because I found myself walking down cold, white corridors. Kinda like hospital corridors, but shinier, and no smell of disinfectant.

  What the heck? How did I get here?

  I looked around me for some kind of sign or lettering—or even doors—but there was nothing. Just…corridor. Really shiny, white corridor.

  I was dreaming, right? Had to be.

  But the floor felt hard beneath the soles of my sneakers, and when I nudged the toe of one of them against the tiles, it was grippy, too.

  “Flamin’ fantastic,” I said sourly. “Just what I need.”

  If it was a dream, it was still too flaming real for comfort. I had a tendency to die in dreams that felt too real, and dying was just a bit too real as well.

  I turned around a couple of times, trying to find the best way to go, but it was just a corridor. And I mean, it was just a corridor: Ceiling, floor, walls along the side that continued to infinity, for all I knew. It was corridor and nothing else.

  Had to be a dream, right? But Between was pretty weird, too; and Behind was even weirder. If there was anywhere in the world—worlds? Layers?—where there could be a place that was nothing but corridor, Between or Behind would be that place.