“Then I guess I won’t be able to help you find your daughter. See how that works?” I smiled at them. I was going to get yelled at by my boss if they left, but I didn’t care. I hated when clients kept shit from me. I was some special sort of over it. They huffed at me, but I could tell just by looking at them that they were going to cave and tell me.
“We can’t tell you.” I guess I was wrong. “I really wish we could, and if it were merely our lives at stake I’d say it, but we can’t,” the female spoke smoothing her cream skirt over her near luminescent white thighs. Her fingers went to the pearls at her throat as the male’s hand closed over the ones still clutching her hem.
“It’s a complicated situation. Surely you can understand. If it’s a matter of payment, we can double your fee. Money is nothing to us. We simply want our little girl back.” The male squeezed the female’s hand, and for a moment I almost envied them. Maybe envy wasn’t the right word, but their closeness certainly fascinated me. Unfortunately, it made me open my big mouth.
I nodded. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Now I need you to tell me everything that happened the last day you saw her.” I didn’t have the heart to say I was going to approach this like the girl was dead. The life span of a kidnapped child is not a very long one unless it’s a custody dispute. For those outliers who survive more than a few days when not taken by family, the picture usually isn’t rosy—so death was the best-case scenario.
“It was the fall festival at her school, she goes to Dartford. We were running late because I was finishing up her costume. She wanted to be a princess which is—” she was cut off by a sob.
“Ironic because she is one.” The husband finished, practically cocooning around his wife.
“She got so upset because I wouldn’t let her wear my crown, she didn’t understand that having it could put her in danger. There had been issues this year.”
“Issues?” I asked, handing the woman a tissue.
“Yes, some members of the PTA wanted the names of non-human students released after someone found out that there were a few at the school.”
“Are you not out?”
“No. I just… it’s been a week. We reported her missing to the police, but they haven’t found anything and—”
“You couldn’t tell them why you might have reason to be a little more frightened than most parents of missing children. Gotcha.”
“It’s not just about us. If I thought it would help get my little girl back, I’d shout from the rooftops what I am.” But you’re certainly feeling guilty about it.
“So, there were some anti-nonhuman tensions at the school. Tell me about those.”
“Bullying mostly. Right before Tatiana went missing some older children harassed one of her classmates whose father is a vampire. They wrote horrible things on her locker, held her down and forced her to eat garlic. From my understanding, the parents rewarded their children with gaming systems instead of punishing them for this harassment. There were also protesters with signs talking about how nonhuman children are a danger to the other children. We moved here because sidhe are more likely to be violent toward humans if they aren’t exposed to them at an early age. We could have gone to LA, or London, New York even, but we wanted her to not have the option of cliquing off with her own kind.”
“Let me guess, you were worshiped as a goddess of love?” Shit, did I say that out loud?
“Kindness and understanding,” she smiled at me.
“And you?” I looked at the male and the moment our eyes locked I knew it wasn’t something as fluffy and plush as Kindness or Understanding. There was no doubt in my mind, he was at the other end of the spectrum. Under that expensive Armani was probably a body built for destruction and war.
When I was younger, I thought it was neat that the Sidhe were old gods who walked amongst us. My interest in them had faded long ago. They were so nice to look at, but some of those pretty faces and forms hid dark natures that weren’t going to be tamed by a few hundred or thousand years.
“Vengeance.” Be still my heart, if only he weren’t married.
“Nice.” I pursed my lips, swiveling back and forth in my chair. And then something immediately clicked in my head. Their powers were from opposite sides of the spectrum, they shouldn’t have been able to conceive period. “Sarah will have a few forms for you to fill out at reception. If you don’t feel comfortable putting something in the form but feel it would be pertinent that I know it”—I scribbled my number on a piece a paper and ripped it off—“text it to me or give me a call. Unless you have any questions, I believe we’re done here.”
“I have to talk to Ms. Black about something, darling. Can you start on the forms?” The male spoke to his wife after placing a kiss on her lips. She nodded and stepped out into the hall. He remained silent until the door clicked closed. “I’m not my wife.” He turned to face me. “I know chances are my daughter’s already dead. I won’t say it to her because she needs hope right now—but I did some reading after the second day passed. Death is the best scenario we can hope for. I want the names of who took her, I don’t even need an address, just their names.”
“Technically that’s illegal. If they turn up murdered or missing after, I theoretically have to report this conversation.”
“But you won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because even though I can’t feel your ties to me. I know that look you have, and the darkness that swims in the inky, light-devouring pools of your eyes. You’re one of mine.” And he seemed so nice until then. You’re one of mine? What the actual fuck?
Suppressing the desire to laugh in his face I nodded, “Sure.” Now would I actually give him those names? Maybe. Another bonus to being a minus null was the ability to lie to these fun nonhuman folks and have them rarely the wiser. If the girl’s body was particularly gruesome, I’d probably give daddy dearest everything he needed to hunt them down and make them pay. On second thought, “I’ll give you the names, but you have to give me information.”
“What do you need to know?”
“Did someone powerful leave the region in the last six months? Maybe someone who balanced more than the Shadows did?”
“Maybe someone who helped keep the Shadows in check? I can’t say more.” He shook his head and reached for the door, his hand lingering on the brushed bronze knob. “Though as someone who needs you alive, I’d advise you to not look into it anymore, and to stop asking questions. As remarkable as you are, you’re still mortal, still fragile. It’s in your best interests to let this go.”
“And if it might have something to do with your daughter?”
“I hope it doesn’t. For both our sakes.” Then he left me cupping my hot mug of coffee as I stared after him contemplating my next move.
Maybe I should have let it go and did as he asked, but I just couldn’t. With the addition of Tatiana, I was almost certain it had something to deal with the fertility issues. Either that or the matriarchs of the lines orchestrated it because powerful people were shacking up with undesirables. Taking out my phone, I looked through my notes on the cases while I waited for my next appointment.
****
Destin and his wife Rebecca—call me Becky—Erikson were the sum of elaborate lies. Destin looked every bit what you’d expect the werewolf king—I’m sorry Jarl—of a Scandinavian based clan to be. He had the bright cerulean eyes and dirty blonde hair of a Viking, but in the neat suit and delicate silver framed glasses he seemed more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Those glasses weren’t prescription. I could tell by looking at his eyes, they didn’t distort them in the slightest. He kept his posture somewhat hunched, which masked his towering height.
Becky was no better—but she was lying in a different way. Her makeup was done, and she was smiling. However, there was a certain rushed nature her appearance which didn’t match the well put together woman I had seen in the background of hundreds of surveillance photos over the years. She wrote
self-help books for werewolves, and co-founded a non-profit that helped get proper education about Lycanthropy and nonhumans into schools, so they weren’t just a misunderstood chapter in health class. She was trying to say to the world “I’m okay,” but what really came across was something pathetically panicked, and sandwiched between laughing and crying. Her reaction was normal, I’d acknowledge that, but to an outsider it simply seemed sad.
They went through everything leading up to their son’s disappearance, what they had done since, including every lead they had pursued on their own. They had looked into the other clans in the surrounding areas to see if the kidnapping might have been in protest to Logan rising to power, since he was the grandson of the last chief of the local native werewolf clan and the Jarl of the Scandinavian clan which now had control. They found nothing, the people seemed happy for the most part. Everything was, more or less, going fine minus a handful of minor flare ups. Logan was even popular at school.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t want either of you to take offense.”
“Of course, whatever you need,” Becky spoke with a bit of a nod. She kept toying with an old neon colored, plastic, macramé lanyard, probably something Logan made at camp as a child that she instantly hated when she saw it even though she clipped it to the ring all the same.
“Did you experience difficulty conceiving?”
“Yes,” she answered quickly, that cheery expression never faltering as she continued to worry rub the lanyard.
“Did you see a specialist about it? Maybe consult a local practitioner, or one passing through?” I was so proud of myself for the way I worded it.
“We saw several specialists who could find nothing wrong. After we had given up, it just happened. It was miraculous.” As she spoke my attention focused on Destin who had fallen silent, his attention focused on his shoes. My money was on Destin doing something Becky didn’t know about.
“Okay, I’ll take your case. Sarah has a few forms in the lobby for you guys to fill out. I just need to talk to Destin on an unrelated matter.” Becky nodded and murmured a thank you to me before heading out into the hallway. When the door shut, I took a slow breath.
“I have a feeling you know why I asked you to stay.”
He folded his hands in his lap but didn’t say anything for a while. “Have you even been in love, Ms. Black?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Or that it’s possible.
“When you love someone, you find yourself willing to do impossible and dangerous things if it will make them happy.”
“So, she doesn’t know?”
“No, because if she knew and thought it would help she’d tell you.”
“I might never have been in love, but even I know you’re not supposed to lie your loved ones.”
He huffed and smoothed his suit. “It won’t help, so we don’t need to discuss this any further.” He stood and buttoned his suit. “Good day, Ms. Black. I hope you find my son.”
It was clear that I had a trip to Merlin’s Beard in my near future. It was a comic shop owned by a graduate of the prestigious Southingwick—which was the Oxford of wizarding universities. Tabitha Stacey essentially got her degree, taught Preternatural Mythology for a year, then quit and moved back here to open her own comic book store. She knew all the comings and goings of the area, as well as, happened to be a walking encyclopedia of all things preternatural and mythological. Quitting wizarding academia had been good to her. She wrote books in her spare time, and most of them were seminal texts on their respective topics. The only problem was that Merlin’s Beard closed at seven and my meeting with the vampires was at six. I’d just barely make it.
Swiveling around in my chair, I took out my phone and was shocked to see that I had text messages from an unknown number…multiples of them.
- Audrey bought me a cell and gave me your #. Enjoying work but wish day would end already! Was sent at noon.
- Had crazy idea, maybe we could go out to dinner tonight?
Almost immediately after.
- I’m sorry about the last text. I didn’t mean like a date. But just as friends.
- Audrey just told me you don’t check your text until a break between clients sorry for bothering you.
- I’d be willing to pay.
- We could even order in
- Or I could cook.
There were about twelve more rambling messages that had me thinking seriously about seeing if another apartment was available in Audrey’s building. I didn’t call the guy who owned the place, though, mainly because as I opened my contacts my next clients came in. It was a case I ultimately declined—and knew I was going to decline the moment they sat down and seized my office and me up like it was for sale.
After being in the business for a few years, I knew when someone wanted something that was illegal—no matter how expensive their suit was. This individual had wanted proof their husband was cheating on them—which was shockingly average compared to my usual cases. But then they stressed the whole if something were to happen to the offending party there’d be extra in it for me. So, I told them to kindly get the fuck out of my office.
By the time I had the meeting with the vampire and her human lover I was exhausted, and just wanted the day to be over already. It went much the same as the prior ones. They gave me all the information they had about the disappearance of their teenage daughter.
Liberty ‘Libby’ Saint-Martin was sixteen, and everyone had told them she ran away. I asked what fertility service they used because female vampires couldn’t carry children to term—it was impossible to get life from death ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time. They refused to tell me how they conceived, and like everyone before them assured me it wasn’t pertinent to the case. It was glaringly obvious that it was, in fact, the opposite. I didn’t push them, I could get the information through other avenues that didn’t involve tight-lipped parents whose faces I wanted to take a bat to.
By the time I had entered all information collected in the meetings into the work computer it was well after eight. So much for visiting Merlin’s Beard. The lights in the building had all been turned off, and everything was exceptionally quiet. I’d say you could hear a pin drop, but let's be honest, that’s impossible and incredibly cliché. It was, however, that type of silence that seems to invade every aspect of your being and seep into your very soul making you jump and start at the slightest most mundane noise. Like the buzz of a phone on vibrate.
“Hello?” I snapped answering the call as I logged off my computer.
“Did you forget about me?” It was Thorn.
“Nope, I’ve just been busy.” I stood, putting on my leather jacket.
“Get my texts?”
“Mhm.” I snagged my scarf from the coat rack before making my way through the dimly lit hallway. Everyone had been gone for a good thirty minutes or so, long enough for energy saving mode to kick on in the lights—so it was dark enough to get murdered in.
“Is that a no?”
“It’s an I’m not going to stop you if you want to cook for me. But frankly, with the way I feel, I just want to have some wine and pass out.”
“Bad day?”
“Why are people so fucking stupid?”
He laughed a bit. “I don’t know, but if I did I’d be worth even more money.”
“Ain’t that the truth. I’ll be there in fifteen.” I hung up without waiting for his response. After the text messages, I was a bit scared of what more conversation between him and I would yield. Admittedly, I liked having him around, and I didn’t want him to ruin that by pushing the dinner issue further. As I closed the door to my car, I said a little prayer that he’d find someone to interest him and forget about attempting to pursue me. I was the last thing he needed in his life.
We were silent in the car after I picked him up. When we got home, that lack of conversation persisted. Still even as I grabbed the bottle of Moscato, and walked into the bedroom without saying a wo
rd to him, I felt a little bad for him. Unfortunately, maintaining space between us was an ugly necessity—stringing him along would be far crueler.
Six
IT TOOK A few days, but I eventually did make it to Merlin’s Beard. Also, Thorn calmed his enthusiasm after that third night, and we fell into a sort of uneasy routine. He struck up a friendship with one of his co-workers, a weretiger named Cassie and I wished them the best. Okay, more like I was hoping for them to hook up so I wouldn’t have to worry about Thorn getting too attached.
The brightly colored interior of the comic book shop was exactly what I needed to clear my head and tap into my inner child.
“Rosie!” Tabitha, or as I called her Tabs, the owner exclaimed from behind the counter the moment the little entrance chimes stopped.
“Hey, I was wondering if you could do a tiny little favor for me?” I ran my fingers back through my thick dark waves as she continued fussing with something behind the counter. I admired her because she just did whatever she wanted. There was this unspoken rule amongst the wizarding community that they’re not supposed to let the normals know what they are. She openly enchanted rotating displays—as banal as it seems to most, such brazen usage of magic was viewed like a gigantic “fuck you” to wizarding tradition.
Also, if graduated from Knottsborough and Southingwick, wizards were supposed to teach little wizards, not quit and open a comic book shop in America. So, she was about as rebellious as Wizards got. Not to mention that she married a Sidhe, one who used to be worshiped in Britain as the Green Man. He was in fact green under his glamor, I knew because I had never seen him with it—that whole minus null thing.
Tabs was lovely in an almost earthy way, with long neat dreadlocks she kept tied over her shoulder in a thick braid or ponytail. Today it was a ponytail, and she had curled the ends. I didn’t need to have that particular skill set that I did to know she was going to be seeing the hubby later. She also wasn’t wearing a comic book t-shirt and leggings for a change, but rather a tasteful turquoise dress that looked radiant against her deep bronze skin.
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