Catnip & Curses (The Faerie Files Book 2)

by Emigh Cannaday

  I followed him in and felt the atmosphere. There was something special here, something that made the hairs along the back of my neck stand up. But whatever it was, it soon vanished. I couldn't help but shake the feeling that I was trespassing on someone's protected space. Fae opening or not, this wasn’t somewhere any of us belonged. Not even me.

  “I think we should go,” I said. “I don't think we're getting in anywhere.”

  “Are you kidding? This is exactly the type of place you were looking for,” cried Johnson. “This was just getting interesting! Why are you getting cold feet now?”

  “Because we’re not supposed to be here,” I said, feeling more frustrated. “These woods, these caves, they're protected. There's no way in.”

  “Well I don’t know what you’re seeing, but I’m looking at a cave with plenty of space to walk in here,” Carl argued.

  “You don’t understand,” I retorted, and I knew it sounded feeble but it was the truth. “Stupid fucking humans . . . ”

  I walked away from the group and pulled my long pink hair into a bun. Stupid fucking humans, indeed! Sometimes I forgot that they could only experience the world in four dimensions. I felt the last remaining ounces of optimism drain out of me.

  I scowled and studied the horizon, being angry at the desert for being a desert, even though it had been one for millennia. If only there was a fucking oak tree in this place. Just one. That’s all I needed.

  But all I saw were tall cactus plants of different shapes and heights, some of them clustered in bunches, while others were scattered few and far between. It was getting hot now, hot enough that the sun would fry us all if we didn’t get under some shade soon. The heat was rising from the ground, causing rippling waves when I looked across the horizon. It was so wobbly that it was making one tall cactus in particular look like it was walking.

  Whoa. It was definitely walking.

  I blinked a few times, making sure I didn’t have sand in my eyes.

  No, that wasn’t a cactus at all. It looked like a person walking along the old county road.

  “Hey, Katrina?” I waved her over since she’d been observant enough to find the cave. “Am I hallucinating, or is that cactus over by the road actually a person?”

  She stepped up next to me and squinted. “Looks like a person to me. He's wearing a suit.”

  “That's gotta be Logan!” I yelled, jumping up and down while waving my arms. “Hey, Logan! Over here!”

  “I think he’s too far away to hear you,” Katrina said.

  “You guys go get the car and meet me over there!” I gushed, getting ready to make a run for it. A powerful arm reached out and grabbed the nape of my jacket.

  “I know you think you’re smarter than the rest of us, but this stupid fucking human went to college at Arizona State and learned a few things about the place I was living.”

  I whirled around to face Katrina. I might’ve been stronger than her, but she was bigger and taller, with arms like a Russian shot putter. Before I could ask her to let me go, she explained why she’d grabbed me in the first place.

  “I know you’ve got some magical healing abilities, but I’m pretty sure the last thing you want right now is to go running through the desert and step on a rattlesnake. Or a coral snake. Or a gila monster. Or a bunch of black widows. Or a nest of killer bees. Or a bark scorpion. Or a blister beetle.” She raised a bushy brown eyebrow at me while her stern expression changed into a wry grin. “Are you picking up what I’m putting down?”

  I wrenched myself out of her grip, staring at her slack-jawed in disgust.

  “All of those things are out there?” I pointed wildly at the mountain and the surrounding terrain that seemed to stretch to infinity.

  “Yep. I mean, if you really want to have that melodramatic moment, be my guest. But I think we’ll get to Logan faster if we all just take the car.”

  She was right.

  Six and a half minutes later, Carl rolled up alongside my partner. My door was open before the car even reached a standstill.

  “Logan!”

  He turned round, his expression shifting quickly from shock, to happiness, to pure relief. At least, that’s what I think I saw. It was hard to know for sure since I’d wrapped my arms around him and burrowed into his chest.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” I cried. “We've been out all night looking for you!”

  “I've been . . . uh . . . ”

  He paused and looked back at the car. Everyone was staring out the rolled-down windows, wearing expressions ranging from worried to relieved.

  “How the hell did you get so far out here?” I asked. “We've been out here for hours! Apparently you were at Patrick’s, but then you pulled a Houdini.”

  “I was in another world,” was all Logan said, as though that was enough of an explanation. “And look, I found this rock.”

  “He found a rock?” Patrick repeated to the others. “He was wandering around the desert all night and the first thing he says is that he found a rock?” I caught sight of Carl burying his face in his hand. Katrina was trying not to laugh.

  Logan pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a beach pebble. Then I saw the hole in the center, and my stomach clenched with excitement.

  “A hag stone?” I gasped. “Where did you get that?”

  “My mom gave me it. I mean, my birth mom. My fae mom. Pretty neat, huh?”

  He held it up for the rest of the group to see, but they didn't look half as impressed by the tiny rock as he and I were.

  “Don’t worry about the FBI compensating you for your time, Patrick,” Katrina said inside the car, still trying desperately not to crack up. “I’m from accounting.”

  25

  Logan

  After reminding me about a dozen times that she’d been worried sick about me and that she’d missed dinner to comb the desert for my arrogant ass, Elena decided she was hungry.

  What that really meant was she was starving, and anything we were doing had to be put on hold until she’d eaten her fill of sugar-infused garbage.

  Once we’d been seated at a waffle house a few blocks from the hotel, I filled in my team on everything that had happened to me.

  “So you got into the fae kingdom through your dream?” Carl said in wonder. “What a wild experience that must have been.”

  In the center of the table beside the syrup and sugar packets, the hag stone sat like a mini monolith. Elena kept glancing down to it in between bites of her chocolate chip pancakes.

  “A great experience for you maybe,” she said. “But I was scared shitless! Not to mention you were in real danger. And how are you not terrified to know that Solana’s still alive?”

  “Well, of course I’m concerned,” I admitted.

  “You don't look nearly as concerned as you should be,” she said with her mouth full of pancakes, wagging an accusatory finger at me. “I’ve gone to bed every night for months thinking I'd never have to worry about her again. Do you know how happy that made me?”

  “So you’d rather live in blissful ignorance?” I asked, passing the syrup back over to her side of the table. I thought I’d save her the trouble of asking for it later. “Look, I want Solana gone as much as you do. She kidnapped me, remember? She made me live a life that was a lie. She did that to a lot of kids.”

  Elena stabbed her fork into the last morsel of her third pancake. Luckily there were three more to go.

  “I know, I know . . . just . . . the next time you decide to wander off into another dimension, at least have the courtesy to tell me first,” she replied, looking me directly in the eye. “Don't take off like that ever again.”

  “I won't,” I replied guiltily, seeing the worry on her face. I felt terrible for putting her through that. “I promise.”

  Her face softened slightly as she gave me a soft smile, and I lingered my gaze for a long moment. I'd never been more grateful to have someone like her for a partner.

  “I know you�
��d like to keep ripping him a new one,” Carl butted in. “But we've got a job to do. Clyde’s not going to go away on his own.”

  “You're right,” I said, taking a big gulp of black coffee for strength. It wasn’t an Americano, but it might as well have been after the night we’d all had. “Clyde needs a little help leaving the police station, and I think I've got the perfect tool to help us see what the problem is.”

  I took the hag stone from the center of the table and slid it down towards Carl.

  “What are we going to do with this?” he asked as he inspected it closer.

  “It'll help us see things. Hopefully we’ll see Clyde. I know it’s just a poltergeist case, but we need all the help we can get.”

  “All the more reason to keep Patrick on the bureau’s payroll for now, right?” Katrina said, grinning at him. He looked like a new man. It was amazing what a hearty breakfast could do for some frazzled nerves. “I’ve decided to hire him on as a consultant.”

  “Katrina, you’re a damn genius!” Carl marveled from where he sat next to me.

  “I know,” she grinned. “Now hurry up and finish your breakfast so we can get this dealt with once and for all.”

  26

  Elena

  “Patrick Hernandez, licensed hypnotherapist and part-time psychic. Pleased to meet you.”

  He shook Alvarez’s hand, but the police chief of Mariposa looked no less confused. For the occasion, Patrick had made an extra special effort and arrived in a pink bomber jacket and matching pink crocodile boots. I was loving it. Alvarez, on the other hand, looked less than enamored but thankfully didn't comment. I think he was desperate enough to try anything at this point.

  “Alright, so what's the plan for today?” he asked, his eyes widening the more he took in Patrick's ensemble.

  “I think it's important we give Patrick space to use his intuition. I want him to guide us,” I said to the team. “He’s got tons of experience with spirits.”

  “You do?” asked Alvarez, his right eyebrow arching itself curiously.

  “I do.”

  “And you’ve been living in Mariposa for how long?”

  “Over twenty years.”

  Alvarez shot Logan and I a glance.

  “Hey, you’re the one who called us,” I reminded him. “Our job was to help you, and we’ve found someone who can do that.”

  “Fair enough,” said Alvarez, taking a swig of his coffee. “Let's go see what Clyde’s up to.”

  It made sense to start in the hallway, since that was where Clyde had appeared to Carl, Katrina, and myself. With his grave on the other side of the wall, the group unanimously agreed that this would be where his energy was the strongest.

  “How ya doing? You getting nervous?” I asked Carl as we closed the door behind us and switched on my flashlight.

  “Actually, I feel fine. Not scared at all. If anything, I'm looking forward to it.”

  He smiled and turned to his partner.

  “What about you, Katrina?”

  “I'm . . . Oh, who am I kidding? I’m pretty terrified.”

  “You'll be fine,” I told her. “We all will. Let's just try and stay positive, right?”

  “Sure,” Katrina said with a skeptical expression. “All we need to do is stay positive.”

  We stood in a circle, with Patrick in the very center of the group.

  “Oh boy . . . this place is full of sadness,” he said, holding his hand to his head and squinting. “So much sadness. So much death. So much injustice.”

  “Does he know this is a jail?” Carl joked. I jabbed him gently in the ribs with my elbow.

  Patrick took a few steps to his left, then his right, then moved back to his original position as if he was calibrating his psychic intuition.

  “I'm sensing a man,” he said. “A young man. Carl? Clem? No, no . . . it’s Clyde. I see him. Boy, he's a rough looking character. Pockmarks on his face, dark hair that's never been brushed. Skin as dirty as his shoes. Oh . . . he's a troubled man. A very troubled man.”

  Then he gasped and took a step back.

  “He's an innocent man!” he exclaimed, sounding like he'd just heard the juiciest bit of celebrity gossip. “I can see him right in front of me! He's wringing his hands. Aww, he's crying. He's telling me he never did what he was blamed for. He says he’s innocent.”

  Patrick opened his eyes and looked right at me.

  “I believe him,” he said. “This is the soul of an innocent man. I see an aura around him. It's white. The purest white.”

  “And that's like some psychic forensic thing?” asked Alvarez. “White auras mean they're innocent? A black aura means they're guilty and they go to ghost jail?”

  Patrick ignored him and walked towards me and Logan. His face was overcome with sadness. His eyes were heavy and watery, and I noticed he was wringing his hands too, as though empathizing with Clyde to the point of taking on the old cowboy’s exact same mannerisms.

  “It's not just his aura,” Patrick went on. “It's his eyes. Good grief, his eyes are the saddest I've ever seen. Right up there with the puppies on the ASPCA commercials. Either way, they’re telling the truth. He's innocent.”

  For a second, he looked as though he was going to start crying. Then he brought his hand back to the side of his head. “Clyde says he needs help. He says nobody took him seriously when he was alive, and nobody’s taken him seriously since he died. He’s been trying to get your attention because all he wants is help.”

  “So what can we do?” asked Alvarez. “Clyde, if you can hear me, just tell me what you need.”

  “We need to help him see the light.”

  “That's it?” replied Alvarez. “So show him the light then.”

  “It's not that easy. He can't go unless you all know something.”

  I'd noticed that we'd all instinctively crept closer to Patrick so we were now in a tight circle around him. The features of our faces had become harsh and exaggerated by the fluorescent lights.

  “Clyde says he's sorry he scared you all, but he just wanted you to know that—”

  A giant crash from the stairwell cut him off. We all jumped about a foot in the air, with Carl yelping like a little girl.

  “Sorry!” came a voice from the top of the stairs.

  We craned our necks towards the stairwell at the end of the hall. A young officer was fumbling with a large box of evidence. He seemed to be looking at another one, which I assumed was now lying at the bottom of the stairs.

  “For fuck's sake, Officer Jenkins!” yelled Alvarez. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Thought I'd take some old files downstairs.”

  “What’s wrong with the elevator?”

  “I like to get my steps in,” replied Officer Jenkins, who waved his fitness tracker at us. “I always take the stairs, Chief. What are you all doing over there, anyway? Is that guy a perp or something?”

  He looked down at the group of us clustered around a frazzled Patrick.

  “No. He’s helping us with some housekeeping. Just get back to your post, okay?” said Alvarez. “Tell the rest of 'em this area's off limits until further notice.”

  After fumbling about for the dropped files, Officer Jenkins disappeared back up the stairs and out onto the second floor.

  “Right, where were we?” asked Logan. “Patrick, you okay to continue?”

  “Of course. Of course.”

  Once again, he lightly placed his hand against his temple and took a deep breath.

  “What's Clyde saying now?” I asked.

  Patrick frowned for a second and took another deeper breath.

  “I can't sense him,” he said, deflated. “He's gone. I can't feel him or see him anywhere.”

  “Keep trying,” insisted Alvarez. “He can't have just vanished.”

  But Patrick lowered his hand and sighed.

  “I'm sorry. I just can't feel him any more. He's gone.”

  “Well, can't you get h
im back?” Alvarez huffed.

  “I'll try,” Patrick said. Give me a moment.”

  Thirty minutes had passed and still, Patrick couldn't get back into the groove of sensing Clyde. He was now sitting on the cold concrete floor with his legs crossed and both hands pushed hard into his forehead.

  When he couldn't sense Clyde any more, he decided to meditate. But when that didn't work, he started chanting a mantra in the hope the vibrations of his voice would coax Clyde out of the bricks and into the hallway.

  “It's okay to take a break, dude,” I said, sliding down the wall to sit cross-legged next to Patrick. “If he's gone, he's gone. It's not your fault.”

  “It just drives me nuts to know I was so close! He was right here. He was talking to me!”

  Standing up, he stretched his legs and wrapped his coat around himself tighter. As the night had worn on, the stairwell had reached an almost unbearable level of cold.

  “We need another plan,” said Alvarez. “We can't just sit around the hallway all day and all night. Any ideas?”

  He turned to the four of us, but Logan was the only one who stepped forward with an idea.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “We can try using this.”

  He held up the hag stone between his thumb and forefinger, then tried handing it to Alvarez. The chief appeared so exhausted with the whole ordeal that he didn’t even bother to examine it.

  “Whatever,” he huffed. “I just need to get this sorted once and for all.”

  27

  Logan

  With the hag stone held tight between my fingers, I raised it slowly to my right eye and peered through the hole. All I saw was the blinding brightness of Carl's shiny forehead.

  Moving away from the group, I started to look around the stairwell, having to admit to myself that I felt like a moron with my rock monocle in hand.

  “See anything yet?” asked Elena.

  “Nope.”

  I didn't know what I'd do if I actually did see something. I'd seen plenty of spirits and creatures since I'd joined the OCD. I’d seen things that would send most people off the deep end and wind up like Carl.