Tithes

by Claire Farrell

  After a moment, he said, “I see. I’m not sure what I was expecting you to say.”

  “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. But it’s all the truth.”

  “You don’t need me anymore,” he said. “That’s basically what you’re trying to say. Why does that hurt so much?”

  A lump in my throat ached. “I’m sorry.”

  “You keep saying that,” he said. “But I don’t think you need to. Not anymore. But I’d like to remember that girl, the one who doesn’t exist anymore, because for a long while, she was the most important person in my life.”

  His name was called. “Want company?” I dared ask.

  “I’d love some,” he said.

  I was pretty sure that meant something good had come of me baring my soul to him.

  An orderly brought us to a tiny room three corridors away, where a nurse inspected his injury. He exchanged pleasantries while I sat in the corner, trying to make myself invisible. Without even trying, I had dragged Wes into drama. That gun had been for me only; I was certain of it. Something odd was going on, and I couldn’t make sense of any of it. The incident with the gun could have been a way to get rid of me and steal back a baby—except the protection racket had started way before the baby showed up on my doorstep.

  We had been in the room for a few minutes when the door burst open, and a tall, willowy blonde came in like a whirlwind. “Oh, my God,” she said, sinking against the doorway with relief. “You’re okay. I got a phone call saying you were shot? What happened?”

  “I’m fine,” Wes said, unable to stop a huge smile from crossing his lips. “Come here.”

  She went to him, and he kissed her. “I was so scared.”

  “I promise you, I’m fine. We had trouble, but my friend Ava came to help us. It could have been worse.”

  My cheeks burned as the woman looked at me. “Thank you,” she gushed.

  “Actually, I didn’t do anything,” I said. “Wes was responsible for the heroics today.”

  She turned to him and grinned.

  “Ava, this is my girlfriend, Diane,” Wes said gently.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said, and I could tell she was completely unaware of who I was—in relation to Wes and the supernatural.

  “Well, I should head on,” I said. “You seem like you’re in good hands. If you have any more trouble, you know where I am, but I think Shay will be on top of the situation in future. Nice to meet you, Diane. Good luck, Wes. No more stopping bullets with your body.”

  Laughter followed me out the door. I experienced the weird sensation of floating on air; I checked to make sure I was actually walking on solid ground. I was over Wes, and over the past, but a part of me mourned for the girl who had loved him, the one who would have been heartbroken to meet his girlfriend.

  I walked home slowly, trying to make sense of the last couple of days. I was missing something. I had to be. The shooter was too well-spoken—posh as Moses would say—and the rest of her wimpy little gang had been wearing clothing from brands I couldn’t even afford to say, never mind buy. If they were hassling people for money all over the city, somebody out there had to notice. And the gun had to have come from somewhere. Too much of it was bothering me, so I called Moses.

  “What’s up?” he answered.

  “I have questions.” The ex-scumbag was in the know about a lot that went down on the streets of Dublin, and I hoped he could give me some ideas—and a distraction from the niggling details that didn’t fit together in my brain.

  “Ask away, darlin’.”

  “Seriously, don’t make me vomit.”

  His husky laughter forced me to hold the phone away from my ear for a moment. “All right, love. What’s going on?”

  I ignored his teasing mood. “Somebody tried to shoot me today,” I said. “Contrary to popular belief, it’s not an everyday occurrence for me.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ. Are you all right?”

  “Friend of mine got in the way instead. He’s okay, though.”

  “Carl?”

  That made me sad. I doubted Carl would be inclined to stop bullets for me. “No, not Carl,” I said. “This protection racket thing has been going on in my old neighbourhood. They’re looking for money to protect the community from any gangs who might pop up. But this place isn’t exactly crime central. And if it wasn’t for the gun, this group wouldn’t exactly have come across as hardy criminals. Any ideas?”

  He blew out what was likely a puff of smoke. “Nah, but we’ve having our own trouble here, so I haven’t been clued in to what’s going on elsewhere.”

  “What’s going on in the flats?”

  “Ah, we’re inundated with loan sharks. They’re like rats, invading every corner of the place. Half the people around here don’t understand interest rates and all that shite. A lot of people have lost their jobs around here lately, so a bit of easy money helps tide them over, ya know?”

  “A lot of people? That’s some run of bad luck.” Suspiciously so. I quickly thought of everyone else in my life who was having a string of bad luck. Could it be something more?

  “But these sharks are fucking pricks,” Moses continued, “tricking them into taking more than they can pay back, letting them have the first loan cheap and all. Suckering them in to bigger loans that’ll never get paid.”

  “What happens when they don’t pay?” I asked.

  “I’m waiting to find out. I haven’t seen any of these scummers myself, but they came to the door, wouldn’t leave me ma alone until she signed off on a loan. And the thing is, my ma’s not that foolish. Knows what’s up, does my ma, and she signed up? Doesn’t make sense. I’m warning her not to pay a fucking penny because I want to see these shitheads meself.”

  “You could talk to Shay about it,” I said.

  “Ah, what can Shay do? This is my home, my problem. I don’t know what’s getting into people these days. Everyone’s on edge, being secretive all the time. I can’t get a handle on what’s going on.”

  “You should set up a community loan thing,” I said.

  “What, like a credit union? Sure, we have those.”

  “Yeah, but you know the people in your area, the ones who are hard up and who can pay it back. The sharks might leave you alone if they’re not needed.”

  “They’ve already put the shits up everyone.” He coughed into the phone. “I’m not in a good mood at all about it. Did you see that write-up in today’s paper about crime increasing this year? What a load of shite. No wonder there’s a protection racket going on around when even the papers are scaring the crap out of everyone.”

  That made me pause. It wasn’t completely unlikely that whoever was connected to the article had something to gain from it.

  “The guns, though,” he said thoughtfully. “If somebody’s gun-running, I can try to find out. I still have a few contacts lying around. Here, I’ll make a deal with you. You see if you can find out where these loan sharks are coming from, and I’ll find out what I can about your scumbags. Somebody out there knows something, but these loan sharks are smart enough to hide their tracks. And the way me ma signed up so quick makes me think there’s magic or something involved. That’s more your bag, yeah?”

  “We need to set up something to stop shit like that from happening,” I said. “Sell a house alarm along with a magical relic or two for total protection.”

  “I’m telling ya, that’ll be a winner. So do we have a deal or what?”

  “I’ll do what I can,” I said. “Thanks, Moses. You’re right. There is something weird going on. I’ll text you everything I know later on, all right?”

  After the phone call, I went into the nearest shop to buy a newspaper. Standing outside, I flipped through the pages to find the article Moses had mentioned. It definitely gave a heavy spin on the crime issue, but the article didn’t clearly pin the blame on supernaturals. I wondered if the reporter had been encouraged to write up the article by somebody who wanted to stir up trouble
in Dublin.

  As soon as life cut me some slack, I was going to find the answer to that question, too.

  6

  Back at the cul-de-sac, I spotted Peter working on his car, his sleeves rolled up and his tattoos covered with patches of oil. He glared at me as I passed, and I realised he knew something was going on, but he was too stubborn to ask what it was. If he was going to be so mad at me, then he could keep wondering. After a few steps, I decided I was being beyond childish and turned back, but he had already gone inside. Maybe it wasn’t time to try with Peter yet. I had to tread carefully to avoid making things worse when he was obviously on the edge of exploding.

  In my living room, I found Leah with Val, Anka, and Dita. By the looks of things, Anka had made everyone dinner. By the smell, it wasn’t something she had learned to cook in Ireland.

  “I left some in the oven for you,” she reassured me as I relaxed on the sofa.

  I made an effort to look pleased. “Great, thanks. How was Noodle?”

  “Oh, you were serious about that, too.” Val made a face. “Sleepy.”

  Anka folded her arms over her chest. “Too sleepy for a baby.”

  “We were discussing the possibility that there may be the remnants of some kind of spell over the child,” Val said. “Something that may have made it easier to take her and leave without anyone hearing her cry.”

  I sat up and frowned. “That sounds dangerous.”

  “It sounds desperate,” Leah said from where she sat cross-legged in the armchair.

  “There’s blood on your jacket,” Dita piped up.

  I looked at my sleeve and ineffectually scrubbed it with the other one. “Not mine.”

  “What happened?” Val asked.

  I leaned back and stared up at a massive web tangled around the lightshade on the ceiling. I hadn’t had the heart to clean it up, and I knew the spider that had made the thing was probably laying a million eggs somewhere. But it felt rude to brush away what amounted to another living creature’s life’s work—pretty much what I felt was happening to me lately.

  “It was weird,” I said slowly. “I got the feeling that the gang were waiting on me, and I’m not sure if I’m just being paranoid.”

  “What made you think that?” Val asked.

  “My gut is suspicious of everything right now. But they were so… bland. A couple of humans, a whiff of something extra about the others, and most of them not far off from their teens. Nothing about them screamed what team they were working on.”

  “Perhaps they’re not on a team.” Val didn’t sound convinced.

  “They were just hanging around, winding people up, until I arrived, then suddenly, one of them points a gun at me and shoots. No warning. I felt as though that was why they were there, using Wes and the others to lure me. Wes pushed me out of the way and got skinned by the bullet. When they heard the sirens, they just ran. I caught the shooter, but I’ve no idea if Shay’s IAs managed to pick up any of the others.” I sank my fingers into my hair and squeezed. “Shit, I forgot. I was supposed to go back to Shay to give him a statement.”

  “You should tell him about the baby.” Anka reached out and slapped Dita’s hand from her stitches without missing a beat. “I think we’re all agreed that Shay is unlikely to be working for any slave trader.”

  “Not knowingly,” I murmured.

  “I can watch the baby if Val needs to leave,” Anka said, “while you go to Shay and finish your business with him. Perhaps he can help find this child’s family.”

  I stretched. “Thanks. I hadn’t thought about it, but it’s possible the baby was kidnapped, and the police are keeping it low-key. After all, Shay’s been crazy busy every time I ring him lately. Leah, anything I can bring to Shay?”

  I sat up to look at her. She was seventeen, but still as thin and childlike as when we’d first met. Her hair hung limply around her face, and her blue eyes widened as she gazed at the baby.

  “There’s something,” she said. “But it’s incredibly subtle. There may be something in the way, something putting a dampener on what she can do, but I would guess at her being descended from some kind of witch. She has that glimmer radiating from her. It’s small, but I can feel it. The problem with witches is that it’s impossible to know how it will manifest. They don’t use their power from birth. Some don’t begin to use magic until later in life. It’s almost like it’s hidden away until it’s unlocked, and every witch has a different key, so it’s something they must figure out on their own. Some never find a way to their magic.”

  “So she could run at either end of the power spectrum.” I studied the basket as though it could give me answers. “And the person who owns this brand can’t know if she’s valuable to anyone else—at least not yet.”

  I got up and rummaged in my desk for a pen and paper to sketch the shape of the brand. It wasn’t like Emmett’s or Leah’s, but that didn’t tell me much.

  “Do you think someone may recognise the brand?” Val asked.

  “It’s worth a try. If there are other slaves, they must be keeping them somewhere. They can’t be in Hell again, so they must be above ground, and as Noodle is so young, they could be nearby. Unless she was brought in from another country.” That would certainly ease my guilt. “What if it’s some kind of weird adoption scheme? Selling babies to desperate parents or something.”

  “Then why the brand?” Anka asked. “It’s no small task to tattoo a child, especially one so young.”

  “Something to hold over the parents in case they ever think about telling?” I frowned, thinking it through. “The parents claim they’ve adopted a needy child, but the brand says they’ve bought a slave. It could be a form of leverage, a way to keep people in line.” I sighed. “Or none of the above. This is infuriating.”

  “Shay has the resources to help,” Val said. “I agree that he should be told.”

  “Anyone heard from Carl?” I asked.

  None of them had.

  “No matter.” I got up to leave. “Dinner will have to wait. I might as well get this over and done with. Call me if anything happens here.”

  Exhausted, I headed out again and hailed a taxi to take me to Shay’s office across town. The Integration Unit’s base was away from any major police stations or important government buildings, and I was pretty sure that was Shay’s doing.

  We drove by the Senate’s public meeting place. Although there were no meetings planned for that evening, outside was lively. The woman I had noticed on television was preaching to a growing crowd of what I could only consider fanatics. I lowered the window and caught a couple of sound bites such as “threat to society” and “demonic influences on our children.”

  Again, Humans First were conveniently ignoring not only the fact that we had extra police on the streets, including a dedicated force to counteract supernatural threats, but also that Phoenix had worked hard at completely outlawing demonolatry. It was official—no demons allowed. And yet it was still one of the protesters’ favourite lines to spout. Didn’t anybody actually listen anymore? Or at least find out the facts for themselves?

  “Lazy,” I muttered.

  “That lot will bring Hell on their heads,” the taxi driver remarked. “Mark my words. They’re making their beds, and they won’t like lying in them. If any supernaturals organised like that, talking about how evil humans are, it’d be nipped in the bud, quick smart.”

  “Give it time.”

  “Imagine if the vampires start getting tired of this. I know I am, and I’m human. If they keep pissing off the wrong people, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

  And then the hate could truly begin. The taxi driver might complain, but the humans were doing nothing about people like the protesters. And the government appeared to be too scared to do anything, either. Until humans saw supernaturals as people, there could be no human deaths without massive consequences, no parity amongst our species. We would always be treated on a different level and our actions perceived as threats, while t
heirs were above reproach. And that was how the majority wanted it, I realised. The vampires didn’t want to be on the same level as humans. The fae would never see themselves as on par with the shifters, and people like me fit in nowhere at all. That was depressing.

  The driver continued chatting about the state of the country while I murmured monosyllabic answers in a vain attempt to stop him. When we arrived outside the Integration Unit’s main building, he chortled. “There’s me banging on about supernatural rights, and you’re probably one of them. Well, I wouldn’t be too pissed if one of you got rid of those protesters clogging up the side streets during peak times.” He laughed as though he were the funniest person in Dublin, maybe even the world.

  “If something like that happened, Humans First would multiply overnight.” I paid him and got out before he dragged me into another conversation.

  The building was quiet but well lit. It was made up of mostly offices, but I knew it had been built on a section of the city that was hidden underneath the surface. I hadn’t yet discovered what exactly was down there.

  Inside, I spoke to a cheery receptionist, who directed me up two flights of stairs. I went upstairs, bypassed yet another receptionist, and finally came to Shay’s door. I rapped sharply until he called out for me to come in.

  “I’ve a couple of things to talk about,” I said before realising Phoenix was sitting in the chair across from Shay’s desk. “Ah, shit.” I hadn’t wanted to tell Phoenix about the baby for the exact same reason I was reluctant to share the information with Peter.

  Phoenix raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say a word.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I told Shay. “I got… caught up in a few things. Do you still need my statement?”

  “Just give me something informal for now,” he said. “I’ll have someone type up one for you, and you can take a look at it and make changes some other time. My assistant’s gone home, but I’ll have him send it over to your house tomorrow.”