Seeing Red

by Lyra Evans

  “There’s no wards?” Niko asked, swiping his hands together again to return them to normal. He picked a direction that seemed generally correct, and began making his way through the trees. If the waterfall was ahead and to the left, Niko thought the cabin might be ahead and to the right.

  Cobalt said nothing, choosing to follow him without question. Niko tried not to think about that as he struggled through some fern bushes and around chokecherry shrubs only to come to an abrupt halt. He stared ahead, lingering in the brush like he was part of the plant life. Cobalt stopped behind him, peering around him to see what he was seeing.

  “Is that it?” Cobalt asked, checking his map again. Niko didn’t need to check. He knew, somehow, this was Preston’s cabin. But as he looked at it, he couldn’t make himself believe it.

  It was small. Which in itself was strange. The outer walls were made of felled logs and roughly finished wood, stacked in an interlocking fashion in the way of the cabins of old. The roof was similarly wood, though it seemed finished with some kind of weatherproofing to keep out the elements. To one end, Niko saw the rustic column of a stone-and-mortar chimney rising up. A plume of smoke emerged from it, indicating a fire was set in its base.

  The windows were small and quaint, set at somewhat reasonable places along the outer walls, but they were all at least partially blocked by pulled curtains. A stack of chopped logs was set against the wall on one side, and a short wooden verandah led to what had to be the front door. The door itself was painted green with a circular window in it. A small shed, made of wood like everything else, was set into one side of the cabin, likely to store tools. Niko wanted to imagine it stored dangerous equipment, but it was so small and rustic he had difficulty imagining anything in it but basic wood-working tools. An axe maybe, a ladder, a rake. Things that made sense to keep for a forest cabin.

  And none of that made any sense at all. There was no magic Niko could sense, no warding, no security. There was no sound-dampening, no complex locking mechanisms or glamours set up to shield the cabin from prying eyes. It was just—there.

  “This can’t be—” Niko said aloud, his voice hushed, but even as he tried to convince himself it wasn’t Preston’s cabin, he saw a fishing rod leaning against the verandah. There was a bright orange lure on the end of it that seemed very similar to the one Cobalt had found in the condo. And when Niko looked further to the left, he saw an opening in the trees, a small path of sorts, that looked strikingly similar to one of the photos he’d seen on Preston’s walls.

  “How do you want to approach this?” Cobalt asked, storing his map and compass. He was scanning the area too, but Niko hadn’t even gotten that far. His mind was stuck on the lack of security.

  He took a few moments, making trades in his hands, his ears, his eyes, and anywhere else he could think of to check every angle of this cabin he could. But no matter how he tried to pull at the fabric of reality to spy what was underneath, he couldn’t find anything hidden. The only magic in the cabin’s exterior seemed to be minor weatherproofing. Beyond that, there was nothing. Not even an alarm of any kind. Not even warding to keep off unwanted animal visitors. Niko just couldn’t understand. Preston had no protection in this cabin at all.

  “There’s only one person inside the cabin,” Niko said, still dumbfounded. He’d scanned the property for signs of life, then narrowed for only Werewolves, Witches, Wizards, Selkies, and Fae. Only one signature came up inside the cabin, meaning Preston was in there alone. No prisoners or lackeys or guards or guests. Nothing.

  Cobalt nodded. “Only one entry?” Cobalt asked, looking for confirmation probably. Niko nodded to that. The back of the cabin jutted up against the edge of the cliff that eventually sprouted the waterfall. Preston was effectively cornered. By his own choosing.

  “We can either knock down the door,” Niko said, thinking through his surprise to come up with a plan, “which would give us the advantage of surprise, or else we try to lure him to open the door and catch him off-guard. But knocking when he isn’t expecting someone might put him on alert.”

  “Knocking down the door might surprise him to the point of transforming,” Cobalt offered. Niko considered that. Preston on alert might have a way of checking who was at the door, but a Werewolf shocked into a transformation was the height of volatility. He could snap and attack before Niko even had a chance to shoot. And shooting Preston outright was not the plan. They needed information; if Niko killed him immediately, they would never get it.

  Niko shifted his backpack and pulled out some of the disguises. He tossed Cobalt a safari cap that sprouted a strange kind of handlebar moustache on him and turned his hair black. On himself, Niko pulled a visor that turned his hair blond and flippy and made him look like a clueless tourist. They might get away with looking like tourists on a jungle hike that got terribly lost. The bandages on Cobalt’s arms could contribute to that narrative, Niko thought.

  Pulling his gun but keeping it low, Niko nodded to Cobalt and gestured to the door. They approached carefully, stepping into the clearer area around the cabin with caution. Keeping out of the view of the one partially open window, they closed in on the front door. The wooden verandah creaked softly under their feet, but Niko wasn’t worried about that. Lost hikers wouldn’t be afraid of making noise like that. Niko pulled his visor low over his eyes and stood crowded close to Cobalt. He made a gesture for Cobalt to knock for them, both of his hands on his gun.

  The knock echoed in Niko’s ears, though Cobalt hadn’t hit particularly hard. Shuffling and movement came from beyond the door, but Niko didn’t dare look directly into the circular window. Instead, he kept his face partially obscured by the visor, his gun shielded by his body. Vague mumbling sounds came through the door before a lock was unfastened and the door opened.

  Without hesitation, Niko pulled his gun and trained it on his target, but as his eyes swept over the man at the door, Niko was just as confused as he’d been looking over the cabin.

  “I thought I might be hearing from you sometime,” Preston said.

  Chapter 16

  Something was off. Niko held his gun steady, staring Preston down in his doorway, but Preston hardly seemed concerned about the gun at all. That in itself wasn’t immediately worrying, mind. There was no certainty Niko had silver bullets, first off, but more likely was that as the head of the Woods, Preston had some ace up his sleeve. And given the situation with the police, Preston had to know Niko would be coming for him.

  But as he took in the details of Preston’s appearance, Niko became more and more unsettled. The Werewolf’s normally artfully coiffed hair was in disarray, unkempt not in an intentional way but rather an ‘I haven’t brushed my hair in more than a week’ kind of way. Deep blue bruised his under-eyes, his skin paler than last Niko saw him. He wore a large-knit, beige-grey sweater and blue jeans worn white at the knees and around the edges. His feet were covered in dark grey slipper boots with white fluff peeking out the ankles. Usually dapper, poised, and reeking of wealth, Preston now just looked—tired.

  “Back up. Slowly,” Niko ordered, pressing forward to force Preston to comply. He didn’t ask how Preston recognized them; Werewolf senses were much too keen and powerful to be duped by their weak disguises. They had only been a cover to make it to the door, really, and as Niko stepped into the cabin, his eyes trained on Preston, he reached up and pulled off his hat.

  Cobalt moved quickly next to him, acting as Niko’s eyes to clear the surroundings. “No one else,” Cobalt intoned, confirming the results of Niko’s earlier test. “No weapons in sight, either.”

  Preston raised his eyebrows at Cobalt, his hands half-heartedly lifted into the air in front of Niko. “There’s no one here,” Preston admitted easily, and Niko jerked his head.

  “Shut up,” he said. “Back to the wall; hands where I can see them.”

  Sucking his lips in to indicate his mouth would be shut, Preston shrugged and did as instructed. He flattened himself against the wall that closed ou
t the entrance area, his hands remaining plainly in front of him in a mock surrender. Niko crowded him in with the gun, eyes fixed and arms unwavering until Cobalt finished his assessment.

  “It’s clear,” he said, having disappeared to take a quick perimeter check of the cabin. It didn’t take long, which told Niko it was likely as small as it looked from the outside. Barring some secret door, anyway. There was time for uncovering that later.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Preston said, and Niko glared at him to remind him he was meant to be quiet. But if Preston was in a talking mood, perhaps that would serve them even better.

  “I thought you said you were expecting us,” Niko said, gesturing to Cobalt to close the door behind them.

  Preston’s gaze was steady on Niko, never moving away. Locked in a staring contest, Niko felt a spike of concern. Canine staring contests were normally a silent battle for dominance. Eyes itching and suddenly brutally dry, Niko fought not to blink. He wouldn’t let Preston believe he was in a position of power for even a moment.

  “Doesn’t mean you should be here,” Preston said, eerily calm. “Imagine if the police happened to visit.”

  “I am the police, dickhead,” Niko said. He felt his jaw muscles pulse from the tension in his face.

  Preston made a falsely sympathetic expression. “Not anymore,” he said. It was an undertone, almost a whisper, and it struck Niko like a blow to the head.

  “Tie him up,” Niko said to Cobalt. “Why would the police have reason to visit you, Preston? Done anything illegal?”

  Preston smirked, his eyes flicking briefly to Cobalt who was searching in his backpack. “Me? Never. But I could always call them. I’m sure they’d be happy to pop over and have a chat with you two.” Cobalt pulled out a length of Fae-made rope, the coil of it glistening a subtle silver in the light of the cabin. Preston’s eyebrow arched to his hairline. “Oh, you really meant ‘tie him up’? I’d’ve thought you’d at least try to Sing me into submission before resorting to that. Pity.”

  Niko pressed in closer, his skin crawling with the narrowing proximity to Preston. He held the barrel of his gun to Preston’s chest without actually touching it, as Cobalt wrapped the rope around one of Preston’s hands.

  “There won’t be any question about the veracity of your confession,” Niko said. “You’re going to admit to all your crimes of your own free will.”

  Niko stepped back to allow Cobalt to shove Preston to the side to wrap his arms behind him, tying the rope tightly to keep him in place. Preston eyed the gun.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought ‘at gunpoint’ was sort of the definition of being ‘under duress,’” he said.

  Cobalt finished tying Preston’s arms back, and Niko reached up and swung his arm around, knocking Preston hard in the jaw with the butt of his gun. The Werewolf’s head spun sideways, his body jerking to follow from the impact of the blow. Glaring, Niko watched Preston try to right himself, his lip blotted with red where Niko had split it.

  “Like to inflict pain as much as you like taking it, do you, Niko?”

  “Speak to him like that again, and I’ll show you the meaning of pain,” Cobalt breathed, looming over Preston, his eyes sharp as cut crystal. Niko shivered at the danger in Cobalt’s voice.

  Preston cast Cobalt a sidelong look, then licked his lips. “I should warn you, I won’t be nearly as much fun tied up as I am when I can use my hands,” he said, eyeing Niko again. “You didn’t get to experience what I have to offer last time, and I regret that. Maybe we can make up for it now?”

  Cobalt struck him with the back of his hand so hard Preston went sprawling on the wood-plank flooring. Niko heard the thud of the hit, and when Preston turned over, a bright red mark along his jaw and cheek began to bloom purple. Niko relaxed his firing posture slightly, glancing around the cabin for a plan.

  It was as rustic inside as it was outside, it seemed. The furniture was mostly wooden, with the exception of an old fabric sofa set against the wall opposite the fireplace. The coffee table seemed to be a cut round from the centre of a tree, the legs small and tapered, jutting out from the inner rings. A small kitchen table matched its design and stood surrounded by mismatched wooden chairs next to the kitchen counter. The countertop was polished stone that matched the tone of the wood everywhere else in the space. The stove was of an antique design and served as added heating, should the cabin need it. The wall that marked the edge of the entrance was actually the exterior wall of a small bathroom, and the wall marking the other side of the bathroom was fitted with a half-ladder, half-staircase that reached up to a small loft. Niko could barely spy the top of some bedding up there, which suggested that was Preston’s bedroom.

  Beyond that, there were several rugs set around the space, the one beneath the sofa and coffee table being the expansive skin of a massive grizzly bear. A bookshelf stood along one wall between windows, and it was stocked with novels and volumes that seemed older than Niko was. All the spines were cracked and peeling in places, the lettering wearing off the cloth-bound tomes. From what he could gather, they seemed mostly fiction, but he didn’t spend much time taking inventory.

  “Tie him to a chair,” Niko said, gesturing to one of the wooden kitchen ones. Cobalt moved toward Preston, but he pushed back on the floor, away from Cobalt. A flicker of concern in his eyes told Niko the blow had shaken his confidence. But as Cobalt swiped for his arm and jerked him off the ground, Preston struggled less than Niko would have expected.

  “Sit over there,” Cobalt Sang, rolling his eyes. Preston’s eyes flashed a moment, but in an instant, he calmed and did as instructed. He moved across the room and seated himself in the designated chair without fuss, even setting his arms in position to be tied to the back frame of the chair. Cobalt followed behind him and took the suggestion. Niko watched through narrowed eyes.

  There was a single armchair next to the couch. It was deep green in colour and appeared infinitely more comfortable than the wooden chairs around the kitchen table. Niko dragged the armchair over to where Preston was seated and turned it around to face him. Flicking the safety on his gun, Niko holstered it and sat on the armchair, only a foot or so away from Preston.

  Staring him down for a long moment, Niko considered his approach. “I’ve been a fucking thorn in your paw, haven’t I?” Niko asked, leaning back in his armchair and picking aimlessly at the fabric of the armrest.

  Preston’s mouth quirked very slightly. “Why would you think that?”

  Cobalt moved around them and took up a spot leaning against the ladder to the loft. He watched Preston intently. Niko felt the slow shift on the air as Cobalt’s tension rose. Preston was looking at Niko with a predatory amusement. Cobalt was unlikely to allow that attitude to continue for long. In another interrogation, Niko might have tried to play on it, but the thought of Preston’s breath on his skin, his eyes roving over Niko’s entire body, made Niko’s stomach churn.

  But Niko hid his discomfort well. He shrugged. “Maybe because I’ve been linking your name to the Selkie auction and Vermillion Oak every chance I get?” he said. “Why else are you hiding out here? Not your usual digs, Preston. Can’t be as comfortable here as your penthouse apartment.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “This place is pretty comfortable.”

  Niko gave him a flat look. “Let’s see,” he said, glancing around the cabin again. “Old furniture, tiny bathroom, a crawlspace loft, and fishing for your own food—or a king-size bed, lavish kitchen with on-call wait-staff and cleaners, a full 360 view of the city, and access to whatever you want at the tip of your fingers? I know what I’d pick.”

  Preston’s eyebrow rose, his eyes glittering. “So you’ve been inside my condo,” he said, almost pensive. “I’ll have to have a word with security, I suppose.”

  “Oh, we saw your place,” Niko said. “Found all sorts of interesting things there.” He gestured around himself. “Led us to this place, for one.”

  “Resourceful,” Pr
eston said.

  “Also saw your little gallery of wealthy and powerful friends,” Niko said.

  Preston blinked slowly. “Oh, that was only a selection of my favourite photographs,” he said. “I’ve got more friends than that. But you likely could have found all that without going to the trouble of breaching security at my place. Unless you were just interested in seeing where I sleep.” His eyes flashed, and Cobalt hit him again before either Preston or Niko could react. The ropes holding Preston’s arms to the chair were the only things keeping him from bending in half. He leaned heavily forward in his chair, pulling at the restraints, and spat a spray of blood onto his jeans. “Blood stains don’t come out,” he said, shooting a pointed look at Cobalt.

  “Bill me,” Cobalt said.

  Preston’s mouth pulled into a dark smile. “Oh, don’t tempt me,” he said.

  Niko searched through his bag and pulled something out. “That’s right,” he said. “You do like to keep your accounts in order. Tell me about that.” He placed Preston’s leather-bound ledger on his lap, flipping idly through the pages as though reading disinterestedly.

  Eyes on the ledger, Preston said, “You are thorough.”

  Niko stopped on the last page, tracing the lines for the large deposits to Preston’s account just before he disappeared into the jungle. “A lot of big deposits made to your account,” Niko said, tapping the entry. “Most of them seem to come from Courtiers.”

  Preston shrugged. “Like I said, I have many friends.”

  “Friends who send you money regularly,” he said. “What for?”

  A beat, then, “My friends like to send me gifts.” He affected a look of boredom, but Niko read through it. It was different than his previous calm. This one was more fragile.

  “Pretty extravagant gifts here. Some of these sums are six figures,” he said. “I don’t have friends that good.”