Trifles and Folly 2

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Trifles and Folly 2 Page 23

by Gail Z. Martin


  Teag pulled up the hem of the stranger’s shirt to reveal a newly healed bite scar. “Right where Bo got that dog-thing yesterday.”

  “Is there a wallet in his pocket?”

  Teag checked, and came up with a battered leather fold-over. “Derek Eiford. License is either legit or a damn good fake. Address looks like an apartment; guessing it’s north of the city.”

  Teag and I looked at each other. “There are no such thing as shapeshifters—are there?” I asked quietly.

  “A few years ago, I would have told you there were no such thing as vampires, or ghosts, or any of the things we’ve fought.”

  “Why wouldn’t Sorren have mentioned if there were shifters or weres?”

  “Maybe it just didn’t come up,” Teag replied.

  I took another look at our prisoner and would-be burglar. Given his bulk and weight, if I imagined him on his hands and knees, he wouldn’t be far off size-wise from the black dog that attacked us. So it wasn’t impossible—if you believed that a person could turn into a dog and back again.

  When I looked up, I realized Teag was watching me. “Yeah,” he said, guessing my thoughts. “It would work. If that sort of thing is possible. So I’m wondering, is it good or bad that I didn’t use a silver blade? Or does silver even really affect shifters?”

  Teag’s laptop gave a soft ding. “Got a match on that symbol,” he said, scooting around me to look at the screen. I joined him.

  Multiple images of the same marking filled the display. Some were chiseled in stone, inked on parchment, tattooed onto human skin, carved into wood or etched into metal. The objects bearing the mark ranged from new pieces of jewelry to manuscripts and obelisks that were hundreds—or thousands—of years old.

  “Ancient symbol… used worldwide,” Teag read aloud. My breath caught a moment before he looked up at me as we read the same phrase. “Associated with were-creatures and shape-shifters.”

  “Do you think Malcolm—”

  Teag raised his eyebrows. “That would reconcile the two very different images you got from the watch and the medallion. The watch gave you his human side, and the medallion must have been a resonance from when he was in his animal form.”

  The more I thought about it, the more Teag’s suggestion made sense. “Still doesn’t explain the glass eye.”

  “Let me work on that,” Teag replied and turned back to his laptop.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Sorren, not surprised when it rolled to voice mail. I left him a brief message about a mugger, a burglar, the symbol, and a black dog, and asked him to call. When I finished, I realized that Teag had been busy. A net of knotted rope woven with spells and soaked in colloidal silver now blanketed our unwilling guest and the cord that bound the man’s wrists had been looped with silver chain. A human wouldn’t notice, but many supernatural creatures would be immobilized by the metal’s presence. I noticed that Derek’s skin was red where the silver touched him. Teag grabbed a silver blade and an iron knife, both good against certain kinds of non-human beings, and a few more weapons from our bag, just in case.

  “What now?” Teag asked. “We just wait for Sorren? We can’t keep him here indefinitely.”

  The man groaned and lifted his head. Confusion and fear crossed his features, then panic as he tested his bonds. Anger quickly overshadowed everything else. “Who are you? Let me go!”

  “Not until you tell us why you tried to break into our store,” I replied, letting my athame slide back down into my hand.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man replied, but I could see he was a little freaked.

  “You jumped us last night, at the fish camp.” Teag made it a statement, not a question.

  “No idea what you’re talking about,” the dark-haired man replied.

  “How’d you get the knife wound on your shoulder?” I asked.

  Derek startled. “Knife wound? Lady, you’ve got it all wrong. A shelf fell on me at work and poked a hole in my side.”

  I gave him a look that made my disbelief clear. “And the dog bite on your hip?”

  Derek glared at me. “What’d you pervs do, strip me down while I was out? You some kind of sickos?”

  “These what you were looking for?” Teag held out the three tainted items we reclaimed from Malcolm’s sale.

  Derek’s eyes gave him away before he caught himself and sputtered a denial. “You‘re crazy,” he said.

  I shook my wrist, and Bo’s ghost appeared by my side. Derek flinched away so hard he nearly tipped over his chair. “Keep that thing away from me!” Bo seemed to recognize him as well and gave a low, warning growl.

  “So here’s the problem,” Teag said, hitching up to sit on the corner of the break room table. “We could turn you over to the police and report an attempted break-in. They’ll haul you in and question you, might keep you a while, cause you a real hassle.”

  “What do you think they’ll say about tying me up and keeping me prisoner?” Derek challenged.

  “We just restrained you until the police could respond,” Teag replied with a shrug. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that we could cut the ropes and you still couldn’t move, as long as that silver net is over you.” He gave a patently insincere smile. “Wonder why that is?”

  “How did you know Malcolm, and why do you want the things we bought at his sale?” I asked, deciding it was time to work the other side of the good cop/bad cop deal.

  Derek glared at me. “I was a friend of Malcolm’s, and he intended to leave me those things. So as far as I’m concerned, you stole them.”

  “Got a bill of sale that says otherwise,” Teag replied.

  “Bite me. The auction people screwed up,” Derek’s anger was clear in his voice. “I’ll buy the pieces back from you if I have to.” That’s when I realized that I had seen him at the auction. He had bid on several boxes of odds and ends, junk that looked like it came from tag sales and pawn shops. I wondered why he was so intent on getting these three items when he had bought boxes of junk legitimately.

  I regarded Derek as possibilities swirled in my mind. “A broken watch. A beat-up medallion, and a creepy glass eye. Strange bunch of things to risk getting arrested over.”

  “Sentimental value.”

  “Or maybe, you know that in the right hands, they’d ‘out’ Malcolm—and maybe you by association.”

  Derek squirmed in his seat. “I’m not gay, and neither was Malcolm.”

  “Not gay—shifter,” Teag countered. “Or do you prefer ‘were?’”

  Derek kept his face impassive, but I saw fear in his eyes. “You people are crazy. Watchin’ too much TV. No such thing as shifters or weres.”

  “Then why the symbol on the back of the watch and the medallion?” I challenged. Derek tried to keep his face impassive, but his eyes gave him away. “You didn’t want anyone seeing that marking, or getting their hands on a spelled medallion. You were afraid someone would figure it out.”

  Derek looked away. “Malcolm didn’t hurt anyone. And even if there were such things as shifters and weres, being one isn’t against the law. So you’ve got no reason to keep me here.”

  I heard the click of the back door as it opened and closed. Sorren moved into the room silently, standing between me and Teag, facing Derek. “We both know better,” Sorren said quietly.

  Derek’s expression twisted in sudden rage. “Keep that goddamn biter away from me!”

  Meet the Family

  “You two know each other?” Teag asked, gaze flickering between Sorren and Derek.

  “I know what he is,” Sorren replied, and I picked up an edge of distaste. “But not this one individually.”

  “Rich coming from your kind,” Derek snapped, whatever hard feeling he harbored rising despite the fact that he was still a prisoner. “Like your transformation doesn’t count.”

  I rarely saw Sorren angry, unless someone close to him got hurt. Now, I saw him clench his jaw, saw a muscle tighten around his eyes t
hat told me Derek poked at some deep trigger. “Not going to argue this,” Sorren said, his voice carefully controlled. He looked to Teag and me. “Why is he here?”

  Teag jerked his head toward the back door. “Tried to break in. The wardings knocked him cold. We wanted some answers.”

  “I want to know if he’s the black dog that attacked us last night.” Derek’s head snapped up when I spoke, and for a moment before he regained control, I saw fear in his eyes. Sorren’s attention moved to take in Teag and me in a long glance, and I suspected he let his heightened senses scan us for signs of injury.

  “Answer her.” Sorren’s quiet voice held lethal promise.

  “No matter how I answer, I’m screwed,” Derek retorted. “It’s just a question of whether you kill me or my own people put me down for being too stupid to live.”

  “No, it’s a question of whether or not I use compulsion to force you to tell Cassidy everything you know about the packs in the area, bleed you out for threatening my people, and send your body back as a warning.” Sorren’s flat voice and unreadable expression made my breath hitch, unsure just how far he was willing to take this.

  “You want a war?”

  “Seems to me, we’ve already got a war, if I’m right about the disappearances that have been going on for the last year,” Sorren replied, never turning his gaze from Derek. “A war I intend to stop.”

  “Damn vampires, so sure you’re better than the rest of us,” Derek snarled.

  Sorren moved so fast he blurred, then stopped with his hand wrapped around Derek’s throat. “I don’t give a damn about your petty prejudices,” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “Right now, what matters is that I’m older, stronger, and a lot more powerful. My allies and I protect this city from all enemies. And since you’re not among my allies—”

  “All right!” Derek croaked, hatred glinting in his eyes. “Get your filthy hands off me.”

  “Were you the black dog?” Sorren eased his grip but did not move his hand completely.

  “Yes, dammit. I wanted to get that box back.”

  “Because you were afraid someone with magic might figure out Malcolm was a shifter, and his friends were, too?” I asked.

  Derek’s head twitched in a nod constrained by Sorren’s hand on his throat.

  “So I’m guessing all that business about Malcolm liking to birdwatch and go to nudist retreats in the forest were just cover for pack hunts?” Teag put in.

  “Yeah. And everyone bought the story—until you two showed up.” He licked his lips nervously. “They promised me they’d hold that stuff for me. But someone screwed up, and it ended up in the auction. I was supposed to make sure nothing got into the wrong hands, and then you had to go and outbid me. You can’t keep that stuff or me; the pack won’t stand for this. Even if you kill me, they’ll come after you.”

  “They can try.” Sorren let go of Derek’s neck, and the man pulled back as if the touch burned him.

  I watched Derek as he and Sorren argued. Something about the situation didn’t add up. There weren’t a lot of psychometrics running around Charleston—I was the only one I knew of—so the risk that someone else would handle Malcolm’s items and realize his secret seemed like a flimsy excuse. Malcolm was dead; it wouldn’t matter if his cover was blown. Nothing about the items tied them to Derek. The mark was unusual, but it could always be passed off as decoration. Yet our prisoner had a desperate, wild-eyed sense about him like a man on a mission. That’s when I remembered what Sorren said about people going missing.

  “Who did you lose?” I asked.

  Derek jerked, startled. For a second, before he collected himself, I saw fear in his eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered.

  I knew he was lying. “You bought those boxes of junk at the sale. We figured Malcolm bought them at pawn shops and yard sales. You’re looking for something. Maybe a clue to find a missing person?”

  Derek struggled with himself for a moment, then lifted his head defiantly. “My brother, Jesse. He’s been gone for four months now.” Pain glinted in his eyes. “I don’t figure he’s still alive. But I want to find out what happened—and kill the bastard who took him.”

  So much raw pain colored Derek’s voice that I knew he wasn’t lying. I glanced at Sorren, and his nearly imperceptible nod validated my impression. “Tell us what’s so special about the stuff you bought—and were trying to steal—and maybe this can go easier on you,” I offered.

  Derek looked from me to Sorren to Teag, distrust clear in his eyes. Then he let out a long breath, and his shoulders sagged. He suddenly looked tired and worn.

  “Jesse’s my older brother. We’ve always been close. He and I were going to meet up out at Sumter Forest and have a good run.” His gaze was far away, and a sad smile touched his lips. “We hadn’t done that for a while, and we were both looking forward to it. But when I got there, Jesse had vanished.”

  “You’re sure he didn’t just change his plans?” Teag asked.

  Derek shook his head. “No. Jesse wouldn’t stand me up like that. He would have called. And his car was parked in the lot. He didn’t show up for work, didn’t go back to his apartment. No one’s seen him since.”

  “No trouble with the law? Romance problems? Bad debts?” Teag asked.

  Derek glared at him. “Jesse kept his nose clean. He had a good job, a girlfriend he adored. Stayed out of trouble.” His jaw set. “Someone took him.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s say that’s what happened. Why would someone kidnap him—or the others who’ve gone missing?”

  “That’s what Malcolm was trying to figure out.” Derek glowered at us. “The guy was an oddball; that’s true. He was also a hoarder. Loved to cruise through yard sales, pawn shops, and flea markets on the weekend and buy whatever caught his fancy. Did some dumpster diving, too,” he added with a smirk. “But that’s how he found the stuff that got him killed.”

  “Back up,” Teag said. “What stuff? Killed by who?” I noticed that Sorren stayed quiet, letting Teag and me handle the questions since Derek was actually talking to us.

  “Malcolm realized that some of the things he bought belonged to shifters that went missing. Little things, not much value, but they showed up for sale when they shouldn’t have. We were trying to figure out who was pawning the stuff and where it was coming from. Then Malcolm ended up dead.”

  “What about the glass eye?” I asked.

  Derek looked honestly stumped. “Malcolm was working on some leads, and he was too spooked to tell me much. Said it was for my own good. So I don’t know what it means, but if he had it, then he thought it was important.”

  “And you think someone killed Malcolm to make him stop looking into the disappearances?” Teag asked.

  Derek nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure of it. Although we hit nothing but dead ends. So far. Just means I’ll pick up where Malcolm left off. ” He looked up as if he expected us to try to talk him out of it.”

  “Won’t that mean whoever killed Malcolm will come after you?”

  Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Let them. I’ve got a score to settle—for Jesse.”

  “What about your pack?” Sorren’s voice made Derek jump.

  Derek looked away. “They’d have to admit something was wrong,” he said, bitterness clear in his voice. “It’s a lot easier to blame the victim.”

  “There’ve been too many disappearances for the packs to keep denying there’s a problem,” Sorren said. “I intend to push the issue.”

  Derek snorted. “Good luck with that.” He tilted his head, giving Sorren an appraising glance. “Look, I’m no fan of biters. But if you’re serious about this, I can help. I’ll share all the information Malcolm and I put together. Whatever it takes to either get Jesse back or avenge him.” The look in Derek’s eyes assured me he could be a dangerous ally.

  “What now?” I asked, looking to Sorren for a hint of how he wanted to play this.

  Sorren’s lip twitched in a g
rim smile. He bent down until he was on eye level with Derek. “Sleep.”

  For an instant, I saw Derek’s will struggle against the command, before his eyes closed and his face went slack. He slumped in his bonds, chest rising and falling in even, deep breaths.

  Sorren motioned for us to move into the office, leaving Derek bound and draped in silver netting in the break room. He closed the door behind us as I turned on the light. “Why didn’t you tell us were-things were real?” I asked as the adrenaline from the night’s work turned tension into annoyance.

  “I didn’t keep their existence from you,” Sorren replied. “We haven’t had to deal with them, and the truce with the packs is fragile enough—if you weren’t aware of them, you couldn’t accidentally encroach.”

  “Isn’t that exactly what we’ve done since we’ve got a shifter tied up and glamored in the other room?” Teag asked.

  “I’ll admit this is awkward,” Sorren answered, in what I thought might be the understatement of the year. “But technically, the fault is his. He attacked people under my protection—and shifted to do it. He attacked this shop—also well-known to be off-limits. And if you and Teag hadn’t managed to subdue him, I have no doubt that he would have hurt you to get what he wanted.” Sorren’s jaw was set, and his eyes had a hard glint. “That is unforgivable.”

  “I’m not thrilled about it, but he had a good reason. I can’t imagine it will make anything better if we kill him,” I said. Now that we were out of the thick of the fight, the idea of just killing Derek in cold blood made me pause, although I knew we couldn’t leave him tied up and wrapped in silver forever.

  “His pack wouldn’t like it, but they would accept it as punishment due,” Sorren replied. “Fortunately, there is another alternative.”

  “Take him to the pound?” Teag quipped, but I could hear the nervousness in his voice.

  “Hardly. Although it’s a lovely mental image. I intend to return him to his pack leader, in exchange for information.”

  “What about his offer to work with us?” Teag asked.

  Sorren nodded. “We have to return him to his pack. If he still wants to collaborate, that’s fine with me, although the pack might have other ideas. I have the feeling he’s going to keep looking for his brother, with or without anyone’s help or blessing.”

 

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