Between Decisions (The City Between Book 8)

by W. R. Gingell

  Someone had grabbed me by the arm and I had wrenched myself free, shoving them away. A smelly, dirty body went stumbling backwards, and I followed them, apologies tumbling out. It was the old mad bloke: perhaps drunk, perhaps just always loopy.

  He bristled his beard at me as he found his feet again. “No,” he said, wagging a finger. “Bad human. This is a behindkind place, I can smell it. Always trust your nose!”

  I wrinkled my own nose a bit, because it was pretty rich for him to be telling people to trust their noses when he stank to high heaven, but all I had said was, “You hungry today?” and that had made him grin at me.

  “Hajima,” JinYeong said, pulling at my sleeve and drawing me back to the present. “That is not a good place to be.”

  “I know,” I told him, allowing myself to be pulled away. “Just wanted to see if it was still open for people like me to wander into. You reckon they would have fixed it after this long.”

  The look he threw over his shoulder was amused. “There are no other people like you.”

  “What about the old mad bloke?”

  JinYeong opened his mouth, then shut it again. After a moment or two, he said, “He is a little bit like you.”

  “And what about Sarah?” Sarah was the North Wind’s protégé—or family. At any rate, she was a kid who had been Behind and escaped again, thanks to North’s help. Sarah also tended to be able to do a lot of the same things that I could do.

  “She is also a little bit similar—do not make a list at me! I will not listen.”

  I cheerfully irritated him all the way home, just to warn him what life would be like if we really were dating, with time off in between to pinch bao buns out of the bag and eat them. JinYeong had been resilient to my glares; likewise resilient to my outright declaration that I wasn’t going to date him. The one thing I could think of that might be effective was to start annoying him as much as I’d done when we first got to know each other and hope that would be more effective. JinYeong in love with me was far too soft and inclined to be injured—physically and emotionally—and I still had the dark remembrance of him nearly dying twice to help me. There was no way I was going to let that happen again.

  JinYeong was far more cheerful by the time we got home, despite my efforts; he sauntered into the house without opening the door and tossed the bags of bao bun onto the coffee table in front of Zero.

  Zero stared at me and then JinYeong. “What’s this?”

  “Got distracted,” I explained. “So we brought back bao buns. Yours are the ten in that bag; Athelas’ are here with ours because none of the rest of us eat ten bao buns at a time.”

  “Athelas isn’t here,” Zero said, his eyes growing lighter in amusement. “And if we’re going to be carping about portion sizes, I’m roughly four times your size—you should only be eating two and a half bao buns, and I can see three there. Not to mention the one you probably ate on the way home.”

  “I’m having a late growth spurt,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the grinning JinYeong, who knew that I had, in fact, eaten two of the bao buns on our way home. “Oi, where’s Athelas, then?”

  “He decided he’d go to see the detective, after all.”

  I wondered, my suspicions rising, if Athelas had gone to get Detective Tuatu to do more for him. I couldn’t help wondering if it would have anything to do with the records and documents he had gotten Tuatu to gather for him, too.

  “I’m still worried about Athelas,” I said, sitting down and reaching for my own food. “How come he’s nicking off right now? You can’t tell me he didn’t trust the humans to send a message to Tuatu—I mean you can, and he probably doesn’t, but I wouldn’t have thought that would get him out of the house.”

  JinYeong shot me a considering look as he sat down beside me, but Zero only said, with a touch of exasperation, “Pet, if you’re going to start suspecting Athelas of—”

  “I didn’t say I suspected him of anything, I’m trying to say that I’m worried about him!” I said indignantly. “You know—his state of mind. He’s been mopey for the last couple of weeks. I don’t reckon he’s healing properly.”

  “You are worried in a friendly way,” said JinYeong, nodding. He delicately unwrapped one of his bao buns. “You should not do that.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe you blokes should all stop warning me about getting too fond of the others.”

  I didn’t miss the molten look that JinYeong turned on Zero, or the cold one Zero shot back.

  “It’s mostly Athelas warning me about you two,” I informed them. “Well, and himself. And don’t go ruining his best tea again, JinYeong, or I’ll put something nasty in your kimchi.”

  JinYeong closed the mouth he had opened with a very distinct click of teeth.

  “Athelas,” said Zero pointedly, “is not wrong.”

  “You shouldn’t pat me on the head, then,” I pointed out. “Isn’t that against the rules or something?”

  “I was told that one should pat a pet on the head,” Zero said, his eyes light and bright. “I’m within the rules.”

  “Put something in his pancakes,” said JinYeong provocatively.

  “Heck no!” I said. “I’ve gotta stand behind him until the Heirling Trials are over. I’ll put something nasty in his pancakes then, when we’re all still alive to annoy each other.”

  JinYeong bared his teeth and grabbed another bao bun with a distinctly irritated lunge.

  “What are you gunna do afterward?” I asked Zero, ignoring JinYeong’s mutterings. I was supposed to be annoying him, not encouraging him, after all. “When the Heirling Trials are over and you’re either on the throne or not?”

  “I won’t be on the throne,” Zero said bluntly. “I might not even be alive. I’ll think about it when the time comes; until then, I’ll try to stay alive.”

  “I shall open a shop,” said JinYeong darkly.

  “Not if you’re gunna lure in humans to eat,” I told him.

  JinYeong looked at me provocatively over his bao bun. “You will have to stop me, then. Come every day to my shop and we will—”

  “Hang on, what kind of shop?” I demanded. “You’ve never said you wanted to open a shop before.”

  “You did not ask. I shall sell clothes.”

  “I didn’t ask because we’ve been too busy trying not to die, and—”

  “Everyone will buy my clothes,” he said. “And for that little old lady there will be a place to knit.”

  I stared at him. “What, for Vesper? Weren’t you just saying before that—”

  “Are the humans prepared?” interrupted Zero.

  I don’t know if he was just trying to remind us not to count our chickens before they were hatched—or out of the slaughterhouse—or if he really did want to clarify things.

  “About as much as they can be,” I said. “They took the stuff, but it’s a good thing I could tell ’em the badges they’re going to be wearing aren’t fae workmanship.”

  JinYeong wiped his fingers and shot me a mocking look. “What will they think when they know about behindkind?”

  “Don’t know,” I said frankly. “And I hope I don’t have to find out, either. But they don’t hate behindkind right now—just fae. So technically—”

  “It’s hard to keep people safe when they don’t like the way you do it, isn’t it?” said Zero, entirely emotionlessly.

  “Rude!” I said wrathfully. “I’m not lying to them, I’m just not telling them all of the truth! And they’ve still got a choice about whether or not they use the stuff; I’m not forcing ’em to take it.”

  Zero’s eyes lightened just enough to let me know that he’d been laughing at me all along.

  “Fine time for you to be growing a sense of humour now,” I said sourly. “You could at least have admitted that your way of keeping people safe and mine are poles apart when it comes to things like consent and personal wishes and—”

  “I admit it, I admit it!” he said hastily, holding up his hands. “I’ll
also admit to doing things that I regret—occasionally—and that have sometimes not been the wisest in hindsight. In my own defence, however, you’re an infuriatingly difficult pet to look after.”

  “Look at you, being all soft and approachable!” I said in wonder.

  Zero looked away. “I am neither soft nor approachable, and I object to—”

  “Better not get too soft,” I said mischievously. “Athelas is just about to walk through the door, and he wouldn’t approve!”

  That got the both of them looking at the door just in time for Athelas to walk through it and for me to pinch Zero’s last remaining bao bun.

  “Good heavens!” said Athelas mildly, in the face of that scrutiny. “It would seem as though you have been waiting on my arrival. Might one presume that the morning went well?”

  His eyes dwelled momentarily on the bao buns, then rose enquiringly to me.

  “Oi!” I objected. “What are you blaming me for? I saved you some!”

  “Thank you I’m sure,” he said wonderingly.

  “Anyway,” I said hastily, “we weren’t staring at the door and waiting for you, we were just talking about what we’re going to do after the Heirling Trials are done.”

  “We were not,” Zero said, beneath his breath.

  “What are you gunna do afterward?” I asked Athelas.

  Athelas stared at me. “Dear heavens, what a question to ask!” he said, and wandered into the kitchen. I heard the jug boiling a moment later or I would have got up and made him some tea. When he came down into the living room a few minutes later, I repeated the question, but he’d gone cold and irritated by then, so he must have had an annoying time with the detective.

  At any rate, he crossed one leg over the other and said in a chilly sort of voice, “I have a feeling that I shall be otherwise occupied. Far too busy to be running after a little pet.”

  “You do not have to run after her; I shall run after her,” JinYeong said coldly.

  “No one’s gunna run after anyone,” I said, sorry I had forced Athelas to answer the question when he obviously didn’t want to. I had an idea that he and Zero still had to have a conversation with Zero’s dad about who owned Athelas, and how free Athelas was. I s’pose that would make anyone’s tea taste a bit sour. “That’s the whole point of getting past the Heirling Trials—no people chasing us, no people trying to kill us. I flamin’ refuse to have people chasing me when everything’s over.”

  “You may run after me instead,” said JinYeong graciously. He sent a small, slow smile in my direction and leaned forward very slightly. “I will run slowly.”

  Zero threw an empty mug at him, swift and hard, but JinYeong, his eyes alight with laughter, was swifter again. He tumbled over the back of our couch and landed lightly, then leaned against the back of it behind me, arms folded across the top and his chin just grazing the top of my head.

  “I will not,” he said maliciously, “make myself slow for you, Hyeong. You will have to try harder than that.”

  Athelas looked down into his teacup and sighed, but I’d already seen the glow of laughter in his eyes. “Perhaps we could refrain from rehashing old history,” was all he said as he went back to his tea.

  “I’m attempting to do so,” Zero said grimly. “JinYeong doesn’t seem inclined to assist me in that endeavour.”

  “Maybe if you talked properly instead of riddling, he’d understand what you’re talking about,” I said bluntly. “Because I sure as heck don’t.”

  “I understand nothing,” JinYeong said, but there was a careful innocence to his voice that I didn’t even slightly understand. “You should be more clear, Hyeong.”

  “If I were any clearer, you would be passing through several walls right now,” said Zero. “However, since the pet insists that she doesn’t care for that kind of clarity, I’ll refrain.”

  I felt a glow of warmth. It was the first time I could recall him taking my wishes or preferences as any kind of guide. “I’ll make you pancakes again tomorrow,” I said.

  Zero laughed quietly, surprising me, and said, “Wait until we see what tomorrow brings.”

  “Make me kimchi fried rice tomorrow,” JinYeong said at once, his fingers gently plucking at the back of my hoodie as though remembering that he wasn’t supposed to be getting so close to me but unable to stop himself in time. “Tonight will be tiresome.”

  “It cannot possibly be more tiresome than a vampire in love,” said Athelas, and the gleam in his eye said that it was more of a barb at me than JinYeong.

  “No shortbreads for you, then,” I told him, and retreated into the kitchen to make coffee and cool my cheeks.

  Chapter Eleven

  It wasn’t cold outside, but I still felt a bit shivery as we waited for Abigail and her lot to meet us at the park. Maybe I hadn’t been in enough situations like this to get used to them. Heck, maybe I’d been in too many. Either way, I couldn’t help the heel of my left foot bouncing just a little as the humans finally arrived and filtered through the gate, light and shadow rippling over them as they moved along the bitumen path and into the park.

  I grinned at Detective Tuatu, who was with them, and saw the deep blackness of shadow just behind him that had a dark blue sheen to it.

  “G’day North,” I said, nodding. Well, this was promising: the only thing better than having my three psychos to face up to sirens was having North along for the ride as well. If the literal North Wind couldn’t give us the upper hand, it was hard to know what would. I didn’t see her being beguiled away by any siren, no matter how winsome.

  “Pet,” said North, by way of greeting.

  Zero gave the smallest of bows in her direction, and North returned it.

  “Look at that,” I said cheerfully. “Everyone getting along! Isn’t that nice?”

  “It’s suspicious, is what it is,” Tuatu muttered, receiving North’s reproachful look with an unconvinced one. “You don’t have to babysit me, North!”

  “Sirens,” said North, as though they had already had this conversation many times, “are beautifully persuasive. I want to make sure they don’t lay a scaley finger on you.”

  Athelas, who had been quiet the entire afternoon since he got back from visiting the detective, said, “Protecting what’s yours, in fact?” with a gleam of real amusement to his grey eyes.

  “Let’s begin,” Zero said, with a touch of impatience. “Abigail; detective?”

  “Here,” they said. Tuatu added, “The men who were guarding the waterfront will meet me down there. I’ll let them know what they need to know.”

  “There’s not much to know,” said Zero briefly. “We’ll split into groups of three and approach from different directions. Keep your earplugs in and your badges on you at all times. Use your camera apps only when necessary and try not to touch your phone unless you’re messaging someone in one of the other groups. The badges should stop you being compelled to take your earplugs out from any electrical impulse, but if you take them out while the siren is nearby, their auditory power will still work on you. You’ll—yes?”

  “We had an idea,” said Abigail, who had cleared her throat very loudly. “You said that sirens have a sort of boundary they can’t go past, equidistant from their nest?”

  It annoyed me to see the gleam of amusement in Zero’s eyes. At least he was polite when he said, “Yes. What did you have in mind?”

  “They’d head there if they were threatened, wouldn’t they?”

  “Our research suggested as much,” said Athelas. “That’s where the injured one went, I should assume.”

  Zero asked briefly, “What’s your idea?”

  “We brought along something that might be useful,” Abigail said. “It’s an emitter: it gives out specific high-frequency sounds when you attach it to speakers.”

  “Sirens are…susceptible to some frequencies of sound,” Zero said slowly. “High frequencies in particular. How did you know that?”

  “You’re not the only ones with friends
on the side,” Ezri piped up. “We were told that if we played this kind of frequency through speakers, we might be able to sorta herd the sirens and catch them that way.”

  “At the very least,” said Abigail, “we might be able to drive them back to their nest—which, providing we can find it when they’re there, would be pretty useful. We just have to give each person a portable speaker.”

  “I suppose you brought those along as well,” Zero said, his eyes a shade lighter.

  “Of course,” said Abigail, reaching into her backpack and drawing out a small red speaker.

  “Too risky, my lord,” Athelas advised. “They’ll turn it to their own use.”

  Abigail wasn’t so easily persuaded. “Even if our device can only emit one particular frequency of sound? Even if we’ve already got in our earplugs?”

  “They could amplify themselves enough through the speakers to draw in crowds from the pub-crawlers tonight,” Zero said. “Especially if the thing you brought malfunctions.”

  Abigail hesitated, then asked, “What if it’s fae-made?”

  The four of us stared at her; reckon the humans already knew, because they didn’t seem surprised.

  Zero said, “I beg your pardon?”