The horse swimming toward me had a glossy coat, dappled grey like a harbor seal. Ceff’s lustrous coat was marred by terrible scars, a parting gift from his each uisge captors. But instead of detracting from his beauty, the scars seemed to draw the eye and show off his smooth coat and rippling muscles by contrast. As he drew near, I could see the gill slits along Ceff’s neck move with the exertion of swimming a long distance in such a short time. I looked into his large, dark green eyes and smiled.
He was beautiful, and he was mine. My hands fisted and skin flushed hot at the memory of Melusine on the street today. How dare she come into my city and threaten our happiness?
Ceff tilted his head to the side, studying my reaction. I shook off my anger as he approached the dock. Ceff shimmered and hands replaced hooves. He gripped the side of the dock and pulled his, now human, body from the water.
Ceff’s water horse form was beautiful, but his human body was drop-dead gorgeous. Even in human form, he bore the scars from his abduction by each uisge, and the subsequent battle, but those scars didn’t detract from his beauty. Water ran down his chest, though his dress slacks appeared dry; just another peculiarity of fae magic.
I looked up from his chest—I was looking at the scars, really—and into his eyes. Ceff’s eyes were the one thing that remained unchanged when he shifted, large, midnight green pools in a handsome, otherwise human, face.
Ceff winked and I blushed, heat rising to my cheeks.
“Did you miss me already?” he asked.
His voice was like a burbling stream sliding across stones worn smooth with time. It made things churn and heat low in my belly. He started to reach toward me, responding to the heat rising between us. I flinched and took an involuntary step back.
“Sorry,” I said, sounding breathless.
I bit my lip. The apology was automatic, though heartfelt. I did feel guilty about my touch phobia—god knows I wanted to run my hands over his chest and fingers through his wet hair—but I’d nearly lost my sanity while touching his bridle. I didn’t know what would happen if I touched the man himself.
Immortals tend to accumulate painful memories in their long lives, and Ceff had experienced more loss and terror than most. Part of me wanted to reach out and share all of that with him, but most of me was a sniveling mess, rocking and shaking in the back of my mind. I wasn’t prepared, not yet.
Thankfully, Ceff was patient.
“Do not apologize,” he said, lips quirking upward. “We have all eternity.”
That sounded like a promise.
I stepped forward slowly, Ceff meeting me partway. We stopped within inches of each other, his hands in his pockets. Perhaps to keep them from straying? The weight of them pushed his pants lower on his hips and it was all I could do not to reach out myself. I drew in a calming breath and smiled at the peculiar mix of salt brine and cool skin that was Ceff’s personal scent.
Tension eased from my shoulders and I sighed. Ceff’s presence was calming, though I slid my gloved hands into my pockets as well.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. “I know you just left.”
Ceff traveled like the tides. He spent time here on land with me, but inevitably returned to the water and his people. Currently, we were trying a schedule of one day on land followed by six days at sea. It worked well for both of us. I was used to being on my own, and work kept me busy. Plus, Ceff had his royal duties as king.
Speaking of royal duties…
“I will always come when you call,” he said.
Yep, I was melting—big puddle of sappy goo over here. Ceff had that effect on me. But I did have questions which only he may be uniquely qualified to answer. I tried to decide where to begin. Focusing on my current problems helped to pull me back on track, and feel less like a love-struck puppy.
I nodded and took a deep breath.
“I met a cat sidhe today who may know something about my father,” I said. Ceff raised an eyebrow, but I pushed onward. “Kaye believes the cat to be Sir Torn, Lord of the local cat sidhe. If it’s the same cat, he holds court at a place called Club Nexus. But getting inside the club will be tricky.”
“Cat sidhe,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “I do not trust the shadow-walkers.”
Right, cats and fish probably weren’t the best of friends.
“I don’t trust him either,” I said. “But I need to learn how to control my wisp abilities, and that means finding my father.”
“Why did you not ask this cat sidhe earlier?” he asked.
I sighed. This was the part of the conversation I’d been dreading. I turned toward the harbor, but continued to watch Ceff from the corner of my eye.
“I ran into him while I was chasing after a perceived threat, someone from your past,” I said. I cleared my throat, swallowing hard. “Melusine is in Harborsmouth. I’m so sorry.”
Ceff’s face paled and he slumped forward as if the words struck a blow. But when he looked up again his face was flushed, eyes dark with fury. He thrust his shoulders back and held a clenched fist to his lips.
“Did she threaten you?” he said. “If so, she will pay.”
“Not…exactly,” I said. I thought back to the encounter. Ceff’s ex had looked like she wanted to rip my body to shreds and eat me. But since none of that actually happened, I didn’t bother to mention it. “She started to rush toward me through heavy traffic, but once I got Jinx to safety and stepped out to meet her, Melusine had disappeared.”
He didn’t ask how I had known it was Melusine. He knew I’d shared in his memories of his ex-wife when riding the visions from his bridle. I’d recognize the crazy bitch anywhere.
It wasn’t like lamias typically slithered the city streets of the north eastern US. There were two types of serpent fae, desert dwellers and ocean dwellers. Melusine was the latter, a half-woman half-sea serpent who normally spent her time in water. A lamia should not have been seen coiled and ready to strike on the busy, non-desert, non-ocean streets of Harborsmouth. The woman really was crazy, or I was chasing ghosts.
Crap. Where the hell was my brain? The cat sidhe had mentioned ghosts, and I’d been too keyed up to ask the right kinds of questions. I needed to get Melusine out of town. Being able to think quick on my feet and problem solve under pressure was what made me a good detective. But now I was making foolish mistakes because my head wasn’t in the game. Having that bitch in my city was too much of a distraction.
Not only had I missed an opportunity to ask Torn about my father and the ghost sightings, but I’d also forgotten to mention the ghosts to Kaye during my late night visit. I’d have to remedy that soon, but it could wait until morning—which was fast approaching. I wasn’t risking the witch’s wrath again in one night.
“Melusine ran, but you remain unharmed?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m fine, really. But seeing Melusine stressed me out enough to kick-start my wisp powers. I…I started glowing on a busy city street, in front of a crowd of humans, and a cop. If it wasn’t for the fog, and the cat sidhe, I’d be in deep trouble right now.”
Ceff knew all about fae law and the implications of my skin glowing unglamoured. He grew restless, running a hand through damp hair, bare feet shifting on the wet sidewalk. I froze, waiting for his reply.
As kelpie king he had a duty to uphold fae law. I held my breath while myriad emotions shifted across his handsome face. This time Ceff held my fate in his hands.
“Melusine will pay one of these days, but you are right,” he said. “First we must find this Sir Torn and learn what he knows of your father. The wisp king was reputed to be a solitary man, a lone traveler often seen wandering the moors and fen land before his disappearance. With no known friends or allies to contact, my own inquiries have turned up dry. The cat sidhe must be found. We must find a way into this Club Nexus.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“We?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said. “I will help, if you will have me.”
Need stirred low in my belly, but I tamped it down. Thoughts of taking Ceff home to my bed rose unbidden. I bit the inside of my cheek to clear my head. I was just feeling grateful that Ceff wasn’t going to report my crime to either fae court. By turning a blind eye, he had saved me from possible execution. And now he was offering to help me on my quest to find my father, starting with questioning Sir Torn. I felt grateful, that was all.
I looked down to see my traitorous hands start to reach for Ceff, and shoved them back into my pockets. I was tired and emotional, a natural reaction to the day’s adrenaline rollercoaster. I needed a shower and my bed, alone.
My stomach growled and I mentally added food to my list. Ceff laughed, dispelling the serious mood that had settled on our conversation. I grunted and turned away from the harbor.
“Are you coming with me then?” I asked. “Or should we meet here in the morning? I need a few hours sleep. If you’re coming along, you’ll have to sleep on the couch.”
“I like the couch,” he said, eyes glowing green.
Mab’s bones. Ceff’s eyes had glowed like that, with passion, once before. It was during the Winter Solstice and we had been sitting on that very couch. In fact, that one piece of furniture had become a repository for the memories of that night. Sometimes, when no one was around, I’d sit there, remove my glove, and place it against the upholstery. My own private movie of that night imprinted there.
I swallowed hard and waved for Ceff to follow.
Chapter 8
The smell of the harbor was left behind, replaced by the unpleasant combination of stale beer, grilled meat, and urine. We were firmly in the Old Port quarter when my phone rang. According to the ringtone, it was Jinx. But she was calling from our office phone, not her cell.
What was Jinx doing at the office this early in the morning? Even if she hadn’t been nursing a hangover, Jinx being at the office at this hour was odd. We occasionally stay late for clients with a sun allergy, but Jinx never opened early. She wasn’t a morning person. For that matter, neither was I.
I stifled a yawn, frowned, and took the call.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m almost home. Ceff’s with me, and we’re on our way to the loft. What are you doing at the office?”
“We’ve got a problem,” Jinx said. “Hold on.”
Something brushed across the phone, probably my roommate’s hand. I could hear her dry heave in the background and paper rustling. Did she just puke into one of our wastebaskets? Maybe I shouldn’t have left her home alone.
“Sounds like you’re the one with a problem,” I said lightly, when she came back on. “How’s the hangover?”
“Har, har,” she said. “I’ll never drink with a clurichaun again, that’s for sure. But that’s not why I’m calling. The office phone’s been ringing off the hook. We have emergency cases, plural. I’m calling these clients back as fast as I can, and I have more calls to make, but the freaky thing is...I think the cases are all connected.”
“I’m on my way,” I said. I hung up and turned to Ceff. “Change of plan. I have to go in to the office.”
“When was the last time you slept or ate?” he asked.
I stuck my tongue in my cheek, thinking back over the past two days.
“I caught a nap the day before yesterday, and I think I ate some toast yesterday morning,” I said. I shrugged. “Duty calls.”
Ceff understood all about duty. He didn’t argue, though he did look at me appraisingly, scrutinizing me from head to foot.
“I will find a place to purchase human nourishment,” he said. Ceff must not have liked what he saw, because he was slipping into more formal speech—a habit I’d noticed when he was stressed. “I shall return to your place of business when I am done.”
“And coffee?” I asked, crossing my fingers.
He nodded and strode up the street toward an all-night pizza joint. Tomatoes and grease were good for a hangover, so it was a good choice. Jinx might be able to keep some down.
I spun on my heel and dragged myself to the offices of Private Eye, our up-and-coming detective agency. Business had been good lately, but that didn’t prepare me for the crowd gathered around our door.
People were huddled in front of our office. Some were wringing their hands, others were crying or comforting the more distraught, but they all had one thing in common. Every one of the distraught clients was fae. That was unusual. We had a booming supernatural clientele since our role in finding Ceff and stopping the each uisge invasion of Harborsmouth, but fae, with the exception of pixies and pookas, tend not to gather in large groups. A mob made up entirely of fae was odd.
What the hell was going on?
“Excuse me,” I said, approaching the crowd. “Please form an orderly line. I promise that we will meet with every one of you as soon as we can.”
As soon as the gathered faeries realized who I was, they pushed forward, all talking at once. I lunged to the side, dodging grasping hands and pleading voices. I held up my hands, letting the sleeves of my jacket slide down to reveal the silver and iron of my blades.
“Stop!” I yelled. “I can’t help you like this.” Which wasn’t a lie. If they all touched me at once, I was likely to end up a gibbering mess for days. “Please form a line at the door and wait your turn. I promise to do my best to help all of you.”
I swallowed hard and held my breath, waiting to see if they’d listen. I wanted to run away and wait for the crowd to disperse, less chance of unwanted visions that way, but I didn’t want to leave Jinx alone with this mess. I had no idea what had worked these fae into such frenzy, but whatever was going on it had to be bad. I crossed my arms and waited.
A few fae bared their teeth, but they all stepped back and formed a line that stretched around the block. It was then, as I examined the long line, that I noticed the items clutched in hands, tentacles, mouths, and paws. Every fae held a child’s toy, blanket, or piece of clothing.
Mab’s bones, I had a bad feeling about this.
With the weight of each red-rimmed eye on me, I cleared my throat and strode to the office door. I fumbled for my keys with shaking fingers, but Jinx came to my rescue. She opened the door and hurried me inside.
“Sorry, I told them to wait outside and not to touch you,” she said.
Jinx looked pale, but she had showered and dressed in a clean, black and red, floral halter dress before coming to the office. The place smelled faintly of air freshener, but I avoided taking a deep breath. I pressed a hand to my mouth and stifled a sigh. Running the gauntlet of clients had left my stomach unsettled. If I smelled the underlying scent of vomit hiding below the air freshener, I’d probably foul my own wastebasket.
I dropped into the client chair facing Jinx’s desk, keeping the faces of anxious fae at my back.
“Do you know why they’re here?” I asked, hooking a thumb over my shoulder.
The phone rang, but Jinx let it go to voicemail. She pulled her eyes away from the blinking phone lines and chewed a ruby red lip.
“Yeah,” she said, voice a whisper. Jinx cleared her throat and met my gaze. My partner didn’t just look hung over, she looked haunted. “They are here because their children have gone missing.”
“Wait,” I said, gripping the arms of my chair with gloved hands. “You’re saying that they are all parents of kidnapped kids?”
Jinx nodded.
“Dude, someone took them all,” she said, voice shaking. “All in one night. These faerie kids were safe in their beds and then, poof, they were gone. How is that even freaking possible?”
I’d heard of faeries stealing human children from their beds, but not the other way around. A mass kidnapping of faerie children didn’t make any sense.
“And the clients on the phone?” I asked.
“More children missing from their homes,” she said. “I asked the parents to bring something from their kid’s room, something for you to touch. The ones outside are the first to show up. They came faster than I
expected.”
I closed my eyes, dizziness making the room spin. Stress and fatigue were catching up with me. Jinx sucked in a breath and my eyes sprung open to see what was wrong now. I hoped whatever it was could wait. I couldn’t face much more without a strong cup of coffee. I looked down at my wrist and sighed. The reason for her gasp was evident by the glow rising from my skin.
“Crap, I don’t have time for this,” I said.
“You didn’t eat anything today,” she said. Jinx tapped a long, red fingernail on her desk blotter and gave me the stink-eye. Tap, tap, tap. “You didn’t sleep last night, either.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway.
“Nope,” I said. I released my grip on the chair, pushed hair from my face, and pulled it into a messy bun. “Ceff’s bringing food, sleep will have to wait.”
There would be no chance for sleep until I’d interviewed every last parent standing outside my office. I glanced out the window and sighed. The crowd of fae wasn’t getting any smaller.
This wasn’t a case of one runaway juvenile bugbear. We were dealing with the kidnapping of dozens of fae children. To say we were unprepared and understaffed was an egregious understatement. I was glad that Ceff had decided to stay. We could use all the help we could get.
I pulled myself up and went to sit behind my desk. I wasn’t running away from Jinx’s reproachful stare, really.
I thumped down in my chair and prepared myself for the case. For though we had numerous clients, it was one case—it just had to be. I closed my eyes and thought about frantic parents finding the beds of their children empty this morning. I imagined frightened kids huddled somewhere cold and dark. Rage burned in my chest and I watched the sparks of gold behind my eyelids begin to disappear. I bit the inside of my cheek and remembered the families outside, desperate to save their children. I grasped my anger with both hands and held on tight.
Pain and anger had saved me before. Hopefully, they could burn away the stress, worry, and fatigue until this was all over. If embracing my anger toward the kidnapper—the true monster here, no matter what my clients looked like—helped to control my wisp powers, all the better. Walking around the city with glowing skin would make my job more difficult, especially if the fae courts stepped in.
Ghost Light (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective) Page 6