The eagles let out shrieks of rage and dove for him, stretching out feet tipped with curved black talons.
I watched as those talons found purchase in his flesh, forcing a cry of pain from Harley’s perfect lips. He didn’t use magic to defend himself, didn’t change form to escape. His feathered attackers drove him to the floor, and he tried to keep his face and neck covered, protecting important veins and arteries.
“A fey who wants to help, pulls at inner desires, and has no defensive magic.” I snorted. “And he called himself Harley. A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”
“And I thought harlequins were supposed to be clever.” Peasblossom scoffed. “He’s rubbish, isn’t he? Someone should tell him to go find a crossroads to sit at and wait for someone stupid enough to make a deal.”
“Don’t encourage him. I’m sure he makes enough deals right here.”
I headed for a table in the corner where I could sit with my back to the wall and have a good view of the whole room. The bartender hadn’t stopped drying the glass in her hand as she watched the showdown between Harley and me, and she still looked vaguely bored. The handful of people in the room watched with varying levels of amusement as the blond crawled under a chair, trying to find protection from the furious birds. The spell wouldn’t last long, but if the harlequin had any sense at all, he’d leave before his bloody wounds attracted something worse.
A waiter skirted around Harley, giving him enough berth not to become the eagles’ next target. He stopped at my table, and I noted with relief that he stood a little farther back than usual, giving me plenty of personal space.
“Would you like to see a menu?” he asked.
My phone chose that moment to ring, and I glanced down as I pulled it out. My stomach tightened when I recognized the number flashing across the screen. Detective Blake Giles.
The waiter twitched as if ready to leave me to my phone call, but he didn’t walk away. Based on the glance he shot toward the circling eagles, I was guessing he’d wait until I told him he could go.
I swiped my thumb over my screen to answer Blake’s call with one hand and shooed the waiter away with the other. He fled without a sound.
“Hi, Blake” I said, pleased when my voice came out normal.
“Hi, Shade.” There was a short, awkward pause. “Agent Bradford left a voicemail for Liam and he mentioned you needed some help. Liam isn’t available right now, but he asked me to call and see what you needed?”
I’d have bet chocolate that Liam was in the room with Blake right now, listening to the call. My cheeks heated, and I silently cursed Andy for putting me in this situation. “I’m sorry, that was a misunderstanding,” I lied. “I’m fine, no worries.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Another pause. I imagined Blake looking to Liam for instruction. The alpha werewolf was probably standing behind his desk chair, gripping the back of it as he leaned forward, focusing on the call. Liam was as nosy as any other werewolf—more so because he was their leader, responsible for their safety. He wasn’t going to let it go without some details.
“Doesn’t seem like Agent Bradford to overreact,” Blake said finally.
I sighed. “No, it isn’t.”
This time when Blake fell silent, I had to dig my fingernails into my palm to keep from snapping at him to just put Liam on the damn phone. I knew he was listening, and it felt childish to keep playing telephone like this.
I was still battling my temper when Blake spoke again.
“Call if you need police assistance. Okay?”
Police assistance. Not pack assistance. A very important distinction.
“I will,” I promised, hoping the strain in my voice wasn’t as apparent to Blake.
I ended the call and let the phone clatter onto the tabletop. Remembering where I was, I let my irritation show on my face, slammed one hand down on the table for good measure. No one messed with an irritated witch.
I flung my hand up, signaling to the waiter that I was ready for him. He pivoted away from the bar and headed straight for my booth, polite smile pinned in place, back ramrod straight. I was so pleased with his efficiency that I almost didn’t notice the reptilian shape of his pupils.
Almost.
There were a lot of creatures with serpent blood, so the eyes alone didn’t tell me anything. It did, however, remind me that I didn’t move very fast, and I was downright sluggish compared to anything with reptile blood. I pressed my palm against the table, letting a spell hum between my skin and the hard wood. Better ready than dead.
“I’m looking for information,” I told the waiter without preamble. “A woman named Morgan. Unseelie, black hair, pale skin, works at the Cleveland Art Museum.”
The waiter nodded. “She comes here a lot. Doesn’t talk to me, but the oracle could tell you more about her.”
He inclined his head toward the corner of the bar opposite me. The curtain was pulled back just far enough to cast the occupant of the booth in shadows, but open enough for them to see the rest of the bar. I thought I caught a hint of shining silver eyes.
“Thank you. That will be all for now.”
Relief washed over his face and he used some of his reptilian speed to return to the bar. His intense look at the bored bartender made me think he was bursting with the need to tell her who I’d asked about, but he resisted.
I addressed Scath where she sat in front of the table, like a stone lion guarding a massive library. “Show time.”
I held the energy I’d gathered in my hand, cupping my palm around it as I slid out of the booth and stalked across the room. As a general rule, I tended to slouch more than I should. It gave the impression I was even shorter than I was, and had the benefit of adding to the dramatic effect when I straightened up and leveled the witchy look on someone. I strode across the room to the oracle, walking with the confidence of someone who could bring the place down if provoked.
Which in my current mood, I very well could.
When I reached the table, I inclined my head to the older woman sitting there. I could barely make out flowing grey hair made dull by the silver shine of her eyes, the lavender shawl that had seen better days wrapped around her body. I caught a hint of a faded Alice Cooper shirt under the shawl, and fought not to let my eyebrows quirk at the observation.
“I’m looking for information on—”
“I know,” the woman interrupted, smirking as she nodded at the booth. A faint Boston accent colored her words. “Sit down.”
“Oracles,” Peasblossom grumbled. “Bunch of show-offs.”
“Does your master know you’re here?” the oracle asked.
I narrowed my eyes as I lowered myself into the booth, keeping my back to the cushion and my body angled toward the rest of the room. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re here for gossip, and your master rarely misses a chance for a good dish. A real good-time Charley, that one. Such a flirt.”
“He’s not here,” I said shortly. “And you seem to know what I want already.”
She leaned closer and her shawl gapped. Definitely an old Alice Cooper shirt. From the album “Killer” if I wasn’t mistaken. Hard to forget an image of the shock rock singer with his head in a hangman’s noose.
“I wouldn’t be a very good oracle if I didn’t, now would I? And as I can also tell you’re very busy, I’ll get right to the matter of payment.” The smile fell from her face. “I don’t accept money. I trade information for information.”
“What do you want information on?” I asked warily.
The oracle looked at Scath. Her silver eyes pulsed with light, and a flood of images swarmed her irises, forcing me to look away before I fell into those twin mirrors. “Her.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
“Then it’s fortunate that what I want to know is how much you know.” She nodded toward Scath again. “What do you know about her? And don’t hold back. I’ll k
now if you try to cheat me.”
“I have no reason to lie,” I said, bristling at the accusation. “I know she’s Unseelie sidhe, and she’s stubborn. She’s saved my life, but she seems to have no warm feelings toward me beyond not wanting me dead.”
“And what abilities does she possess?” the oracle pressed.
I shrugged. “Shapeshifting, though I’ve only seen her in feline form and human form, so I don’t know if she has other shapes beyond those. She appears out of nowhere, so I think she can teleport.” I shrugged again. “There could be more, but that’s all I can swear to.”
“That’s an interesting combination of powers,” the oracle said casually. “Where does she get her abilities from?”
I paused. Now that was an interesting question. It wasn’t unusual for a sidhe to have multiple abilities, and neither shapeshifting nor teleporting were that uncommon. There was no reason for the oracle to think Scath hadn’t been born with both. Which meant the oracle believed Scath’s abilities were not inborn. Either she knew Scath had come by them some other way, and she wanted to know how—or she knew how, and she wanted me to wonder.
“I don’t know,” I said finally.
The oracle nodded, apparently satisfied. “Morgan used to come in once a month. Since the beginning of this year, she’s been in at least once a week, usually more. Always coming to me with the same questions.” She nodded to Scath. “About her. And you.”
“What does she want to know?” I asked.
“Everything. Where did you come from, what are you doing. What is your relationship like.” The oracle tapped a long fingernail on the table. “She won’t tell me why she wants to know so badly.”
I leaned forward. “What have you told her?”
“Nothing,” the oracle said simply. She crossed her arms and leaned back in the booth. “Morgan can be very convincing when she puts her mind to it, but there’s nothing she can offer me, and nothing she can do to me, that would make it worth the risk of upsetting the Queen of Air and Darkness.”
My stomach bottomed out, and I gripped the edge of the table to keep from swaying. The Queen of Air and Darkness. That was the second time today I’d discovered a link to the ruler of the Unseelie Court. I wanted to ask for more information, but I didn’t want to say her name out loud, not sitting here in the shadows. The shadows knew the queen, and they would carry the mention of her name to her court.
“Why would she care about me?” I fumbled one hand toward Scath. “Or her?”
The oracle shook her head. “I can’t tell you any more than I could tell Morgan.” She paused, then leaned closer. “But I’m not the only source of information open to you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
Her face grew serious, absent of all amusement, all condescension. “Ask Baba Yaga.”
Chapter 10
I burst out of Nightcap’s front doors into sunlight that sent shards of pain into my eyes. My heart was pounding so hard it was difficult to breathe, and my fight-or-flight instinct urged me to break into a run just to burn off the adrenaline.
Scath paced beside me, Majesty running between her legs underneath her. She didn’t even look at me.
“Shade,” Peasblossom started.
I came to an abrupt halt, shoving a hand through my hair. I couldn’t hold still, so I paced in a tiny path back and forth in the alley. My foot brushed a crumpled beer can. I should have picked it up, dropped it in the recycling bin that wasn’t twenty feet away. Instead, I kicked it, sending the aluminum sailing through the air to make a less than satisfying thunk on the dumpster’s privacy fence.
“The Queen of Air and Darkness, Peasblossom,” I whispered, wincing at the name even though I was standing in full sunlight. “The Queen of Air and bloody Darkness.”
“Ask Baba Yaga.”
The oracle’s words rang in my ears. There were few things as scary as the Queen of Air and Darkness. And one of them was my mentor. Neither of them was going to give me an answer. And compared to them, Scath just wasn’t scary. Not at all.
I jabbed a finger at Scath, simultaneously bringing to bear the harshest witchy look I could manage. “You knew Majesty came from the queen. She did that to him. Did she intend for Mrs. Harvesty to bring him to me?”
Scath stared at me. She blinked once.
“I’m not kidding,” I said quietly. “I have questions, and you’re going to answer them now. Or I will do everything in my power to get away from you. Whatever that takes.”
I had no idea if I could follow through on that threat. But I was serious that I would try. Dubheasa had two connections to my life now, and I wanted to know if there were more. I wanted to know why she was toying with me.
Scath seemed to sense that I meant what I said. Black fur receded, and bones snapped and moved. As was her pattern, the shift from cat to human was the opposite of the smooth flow from human to cat. It took longer, looked more painful. If I weren’t so terrified, I might have felt bad for making her change.
Might have.
When she got her breath back, she stood, wobbling a little as she regained her balance on two legs instead of four. “I told you,” she said. Her voice held a rasp that could have been residual pain from the shift, or anger with me for putting my foot down. “He is a gift.”
“From the Queen of Air and Darkness.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t offer more of an explanation, but I hadn’t expected her to. “What about you? Did she send you to me as well?”
“No.”
She answered too quickly. Sidhe couldn’t lie, but anytime they answered that quickly, that simply, it usually meant they’d latched onto a technicality, and one they’d planned to rely on when the question came up. I gritted my teeth.
“Is she…invested, in our continued relationship?”
Scath crossed her arms. “It is not my place to speculate on the queen’s investments. I mean you no harm. I will not hurt you. And when I am around, I will not let others hurt you. You have my word.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, there was a yellowish tint to her green eyes. Definitely anger. “And if that isn’t enough for you, then that is your problem. Not mine.”
Her voice softened when she referenced the queen. Most people, even the queen’s own subjects, spoke of her with some hesitation, some awareness that saying her name could catch her attention. And no one wanted her attention. But Scath didn’t seem afraid.
“What is your relationship to the Queen of Air and Darkness?” I asked.
“Private.”
I narrowed my eyes. “If she asked you to hurt me, would you?”
The question had popped into my head at the last second, and I asked it without thinking. It must have been a good one, because Scath’s brows furrowed and she looked down, her head tilting as if the question had caught her off guard. Her eyes twitched from side to side, indicating she was putting significantly more thought into the question than I’d expected her to. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the question had upset her.
“I can’t say,” she said finally.
“Why not?”
The emotion drained from her face. Sounding tired, she repeated, “I can’t say.”
“Well, that is just so terribly helpful. Thank you so much.”
I started pacing again. Scath watched me, a hint of curiosity creeping into her expression. “Why do you want me to go away? I’ve been helpful, haven’t I?”
“Yes, you have, and don’t pretend you don’t know why that’s terrifying.” I shook my head. “You keep helping me, but you never ask for anything in return. Name one time a fey has ever helped someone—on the level that you’ve helped me—and asked for nothing in return?”
“You saved my life,” Scath pointed out.
“After you saved mine.”
She fell silent for a moment, the only sound in the alley the shuffle of my boots over the asphalt. “I’m asking to stay with you,” she sa
id finally. “Does that count?”
I stopped, just before lashing out with my boot at a convenient pebble. “So you’re saying that you want…my company? Shelter? And in exchange, you’ll act as a sort of bodyguard?”
Scath considered that. It took her a long time, but that wasn’t unusual. Fey seldom agreed to an exchange without giving it a lot of thought, looking at it from several different vantage points. It actually made me feel better that she was taking the time to think it through.
“Yes.” She nodded. “You let me stay with you, come along with you on cases. And I will be your…bodyguard.” She paused then added, “And we will verbally renegotiate if either of us wishes to make a change.”
“Yes,” I said quickly, beyond grateful that she seemed willing to talk more.
After a moment, she sighed. “Is there anything else? It’s easier for me to protect you in my other form.”
I hesitated. “You favor your other form period, don’t you? I can tell you’re more comfortable in animal form.”
She nodded, once.
“Not just physically more comfortable either,” I suggested. “Right?”
I didn’t expect her to answer. It was a personal question.
“Less to think about,” she said finally, her voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear her. “An animal’s mind is…simpler.”
I wanted to thank her for answering me, but I knew that would only make her more uncomfortable. So I just nodded.
A second later, she was in beast form again, looking so much more at ease I relaxed too just looking at her. I was still unnerved by the idea that the Queen of Air and Darkness was involved with my life somehow. And annoyed that my mentor knew that and had never told me. And of course I wasn’t thrilled that Morgan seemed to have taken a vested interest either. But I was making progress with Scath—sort of. And that was something.
I checked the time and realized that Alicia should be home by now. “All right, we need to go. We’ll get Alicia’s fingerprints now, then we’ll get Catherine’s and Devanos’ at the opera tonight.”
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