by E.J. Stevens
Jinx, no longer concerned about the shopkeeper, rifled through a bin of leather belts.
“This one is gorgeous,” she said, holding a red belt aloft. “Do you have shoes to match?”
Jinx turned to the man behind the counter and I winced. Leprechauns make shoes, clurichauns make everything else. It was a sore point between the two faerie races.
The red of the clurichaun’s nose spread across his face and down his neck. I half expected steam to come out of his ears. Of course, that was silly. He wasn’t a phoenix.
The clurichaun stumbled out from around the counter shaking his fist.
“Now, I’ll tell you…” he said.
The little man stopped in front of Jinx, mouth falling open. His silly grin returned and the heat rising in his face shifted to his rosy cheeks. Clurichauns don’t stay mad for long and this one was obviously smitten at the sight of my roommate. Of course, at his height, he was looking up her skirt.
“Clurichauns are master tailors and leather craftsmen, not cobblers,” I said, filling the uncomfortable silence. I reached for the belt in Jinx’s hand and pulled her away from the enthralled faerie.
“No shoes?” she asked.
“Nope, no shoes,” I said.
Jinx sighed and released the belt, letting it drop into the display bin. With dangerously weaving steps, the clurichaun carried over a burgundy leather halter top. I tuned out the conversation as the faerie tried to pour on the charm. The clurichaun was using the merchandise as an excuse to look at my roommate’s chest. Jinx leaned in and started haggling over the price.
I rolled my shoulders, shifting bags and boxes, and turned to look out onto the street. There, beside a lamppost on the opposite sidewalk, Melusine stood upright on her coiled serpent’s tail. Here on dry land I could see that her lower half was covered in snake skin, not the fish scales I had assumed when I observed the lamia in my vision.
She was staring right at me.
Hatred burned in Melusine’s eyes and a forked tongue shot in and out of her mouth. Fangs lengthened as she thrashed from side to side in a weaving motion and stared daggers at me between passing cars.
I gasped, dropped Jinx’s bags, and ran for the door. An enraged sea serpent was not something I wanted to tangle with, but my chances of survival would increase if I had room to move. If Melusine crashed through the shop window, we’d be like fish in a barrel.
“Keep her safe,” I shouted over my shoulder. I dug into my pockets and tossed a wad of cash and our business card at the tipsy shopkeeper. “Glamour my friend and take her to your bolt-hole until I return. Do this and I will owe you a debt. Private Eye detective agency will work one case of your choosing, free of charge.”
As far as faerie bargains went, it wasn’t that solid, but it was the best I could do on the run. I just hoped I’d live to regret any loopholes I had left in the agreement.
The clurichaun snatched up the items and eyed our card curiously. The money disappeared into one of his many pockets.
“Agreed,” he said with a nod.
I staggered, dizziness blurring my vision as the debt between us settled onto my soul. Faerie oaths were binding, especially between fae. My wisp blood was responding to the agreement, and the weight of the multiple debts I’d accrued. I probably shouldn’t be so quick to ask another faerie for help. Too bad I didn’t have any other options.
I shook my head, clearing my vision. Seeing double was something I was used to, but this was more than catching a glimpse of glamour draped over a monster’s true form. I blinked rapidly, trying to regain my sight, and lunged for the door.
I fought down nausea and ran outside, keeping my eyes on the lamia. Melusine’s fanged face swam before me once more. The dizziness passed and my vision cleared as the faerie bargain nestled in for the ride. What I saw wasn’t much of an improvement. Melusine looked pissed.
At least as the image solidified, the lamia now only had the one head. Thank Mab for small favors. Too bad I didn’t have time to relax and enjoy the improved view.
Melusine leapt off the sidewalk and slithered at blinding speed into the street, rush hour traffic the only thing between me and her dripping fangs. I ran to the edge of the sidewalk and dug a glass vial filled with iron shavings from one of my many pockets.
It was time to see how the bitch liked our local weather. My lip lifted in a sneer. I was going to bring a rain of iron down on Melusine’s head. I raised my arm, ready to throw the vial as soon as I caught a break between vehicles.
I edged down to the pavement, but a city bus honked twice, horn blaring dangerously close to my ear. I jumped back a step, narrowly avoiding a future as a road pancake. My boot heels hit the concrete sidewalk, but I never took my eyes off Melusine as she waited for her chance to strike. With a rush of heated air and diesel exhaust, the bus drove past just inches from my face. Gripping the vial tightly in my gloved fist, I blinked against the swirl of debris.
I stepped forward as soon as the bus passed, but Melusine was gone.
A car swerved around me, but the driver’s curses were lost beneath the roaring in my ears. My heart tried to pound its way out of my chest and into my throat.
Where the hell was Melusine?
I spun in a circle, but there was no sign of the lamia. My arm shook with the strain of holding the vial aloft while I scrambled for my target. It shouldn’t be hard to spot a sea serpent on a busy city street, but Melusine had completely disappeared into the growing fog.
Tendrils of mist snaked around my feet and choked the mouths of nearby alleyways. Could the lamia have called up the fog to cover her escape? It seemed like more than an unhappy coincidence.
But why would she have run? If Melusine had returned with some grudge against me for dating her husband, why not have her revenge? I’d been alone and lightly armed mere yards away from her crushing grasp. I took a deep breath and sighed. All I had were more questions.
I lowered my arm and shoved the vial of iron shavings back into my pocket. None of this made any sense. I stepped up onto the sidewalk and turned to face the clurichaun’s shop. It was then that I noticed the wall of people whispering and pointing. I looked over my shoulder, half expecting Melusine to materialize out of the mist, but traffic continued to flow past. A cold ball of ice settled in my stomach as I turned to face the crowd. They weren’t gawking at something in the street.
They were all staring at me.
I winced and hunched my shoulders, ready to walk away into the fog and wait until the crowd dispersed. I could double back for Jinx after I made my escape. I took a step to my right, avoiding a lamp post, but the sidewalk was blocked by a wall of curious shoppers.
Unfortunately, the afternoon shoppers weren’t alone. A man in uniform scowled at me from beneath his navy blue hat. Great, I had attracted the attention of the Harborsmouth police. Could this day get any worse?
Stupid question, of course it could. My chest tightened and I took a shaky breath. More than a dozen sets of eyes stared at me, making my skin burn hot. I wanted nothing more than to run and hide from their disapproving looks. Would I make it across the road in one piece if I dove into the traffic rushing at my back?
A slight shake of the cop’s head answered that question. My desire for escape must have been written all over my face. His hand shifted to his hip where a baton and handgun hung from his belt. Running away was definitely not an option.
“Stay where you are, ma’am,” the cop said, squaring his shoulders. “I have more than one witness who claims you just stepped out into moving traffic, potentially endangering motorists and yourself. Some of them say you raised your hand as if to throw something into the road. One witness says you did throw something. Can you explain your behavior, miss?”
The cop, Officer Hamlin according to his uniform, was all sweet as pie, but his hand lingered over the butt of his gun. From his opposite hip hung a shiny pair of handcuffs, taunting me with the threat of their cold embrace. I had to come up with a reasonable explan
ation for stepping in front of a bus that didn’t include attempted suicide, public vandalism, or chasing down a vengeful sea serpent, and find a way to convince the cop that I wasn’t dangerous, destructive, or crazy. If I didn’t think of something quick, I’d be riding in the back of a squad car with those shiny bracelets around my wrists.
I was sure the handcuffs would slam me with a vision whammy. It would be hard to convince a judge that I was both sane and not a threat to society while in the clutches of a vision.
I tried to swallow, but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I willed saliva and words back to my mouth, but all that came out was a squeak as something brushed against my leg.
I looked down into the all too intelligent eyes of a cat sidhe. The faerie looked like a scrappy street cat, but the eyes, and the way parts of his body seemed made of smoke and shadow, gave its fae nature away. Not that anyone else could see the difference.
“Glamour yourself!” the cat hissed.
The words seemed to come from the cat sidhe, but its mouth didn’t move. Since the surrounding crowd didn’t gasp at the spectacle of a talking cat, I figured the creature must be a telepath. Just what I needed—a bossy faerie cat in my head.
Go away. Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here? I thought the words at the cat. Hopefully the telepathy worked both ways.
My pulse sped up as the animal pressed his furred body against my boot. With only a thin layer of leather between the cat sidhe and my flesh, the faerie was starting to look like another potential problem. The cop cleared his throat, obviously waiting for the crazy lady to answer his question. I’d have to worry about the cat later.
“You’re glowing,” the cat sidhe said. “Which, Princess, I shouldn’t have to remind you is against fae law. Exposing our existence to humans is punishable by death. Turn off the light show before these folks realize it’s not a trick of the light and fog.”
I can’t. And don’t call me Princess.
I was glowing in front of a human audience? Great. Just perfect. My wisp father, king of the wisps, hadn’t bothered to teach me anything useful, like how to cast a life saving glamour, before ditching me and my mom and hitting my mind with a memory spell to forget he ever existed. My chest tightened and sparks of light filled my vision.
Something scratched my boot and I looked down to see the faerie cat roll his eyes.
“Calm down, Princess, and follow my lead,” he said. “First, act pleased to see me and give me a cuddle.”
Give you a cuddle? I bet you say that to all the girls.
“That’s better,” he said. “Your glow is dampening. Take deep breaths, smile, and act happy to see me. I’m your lost cat—THE ONE YOU’VE BEEN DIVING INTO TRAFFIC FOR.”
Oh, that makes sense. And it did, kind of. I pasted on a smile that made my cheeks hurt and clapped my gloved hands together in faux glee.
“Kitty!” I said.
“If you really want to sell it, and get the police off your back, you’re going to have to pick me up,” he said.
I snuck a glance at the crowd and the faerie was right. Frowns were replaced by raised eyebrows and tentative smiles, but no one was going to believe this was my lost cat if I just stood here grinning like a pooka. If your pet just had a brush with death in a major roadway, would you leave it sitting within inches of moving traffic? No, most people would clutch their precious pet to their chest and make sure that it was safe.
Of course, this wasn’t my pet, he wasn’t even a real cat, and most pet owners don’t risk being assaulted with a vision when holding their furry babies. The urge to run was overwhelming, but I forced my grin wide and lifted the cat sidhe into my arms.
If you scratch the leather, I’ll turn you into a pair of slippers. The coat was new, one of the perks of a booming business, but it was an empty threat. I’d never skin a cat, not even a cat sidhe, but I hoped to keep the faerie’s claws from puncturing my sleeve. The creature’s claws could slice through leather as easily as warm butter, leaving nothing between my skin and an immortal faerie—and a nasty vision.
“You can try,” he said, flashing a lazy crocodile smile. He flexed one paw and the tips of its claws pressed against my arm. Each needle-sharp claw slid into leather, but, so far, didn’t touch flesh. The claws had struck the blade strapped to my forearm.
I stifled a shudder and lifted my head to face the cop.
“Sorry officer,” I said. I kept the cat perched in my arms, but lifted my gloved hands in supplication. “This is all a misunderstanding. I was just trying to find my lost cat and bring him home.”
The cop looked from me to the cat in my arms and back again. I couldn’t have conjured the cat from thin air, but the guy looked reluctant to let me go.
“And you were standing out in traffic because?” he asked.
“When I finally found my cat, he was playing in the road,” I said. The faerie’s claws squeezed my arm, making tears well up, though not drawing blood. He let out a chuckling purr. The cat bastard was enjoying this. I blinked away the tears and ground my teeth. If I lived through this day, I swore to never again pick up one of the foul creatures except to wring its neck. “A bus was coming and I didn’t think…I just stepped out into traffic. I couldn’t let my sweet Butterball die. I had to try to save him.”
A chorus of awwwwwws escaped the crowd. Someone in the rear of the crowd clapped their hands and someone else cheered.
“Butterball?” the cat sidhe asked.
That’s what you get for putting holes in my jacket. I warned you not to scratch the leather. Plus, you could stand to lose a few pounds. What do cat sidhe eat, lead weights? I tried not to picture the cat playing with a mouse twice his size. Were there huge rat fae in our city too? On second thought, I don’t want to know.
While the cat sidhe and I bantered telepathically, the crowd began to disperse. A lady in a baggy sweater and matching knit scarf called me an angel and I hoped she hadn’t noticed my glowing skin. My skin looked normal now, and I wasn’t seeing any more flashing sparks of light behind my eyelids, so hopefully my wisp glow had fully dissipated. I’d have to learn how to control my fae powers, but that meant a foray into my wisp heritage. That would have to wait.
There was still one person from the crowd who hadn’t budged. I stared at the uniformed figure and sighed. He was below average height and weight, but looks can be deceiving. I should know. I assessed the threat he posed—gun, baton, cuffs, wide stance—just as Jenna had taught me. I ran multiple possible fight scenarios through my mind, drawing some satisfaction from each. But I wasn’t here to pick a fight with the city’s finest. We were technically both on the same side and I wanted to keep things that way.
Trouble with the local authorities wasn’t just foolish—it was bad for business. If I landed myself in jail, my PI license could be revoked. If I couldn’t legally work cases, Jinx would have my head.
“I’m really sorry if I worried anyone,” I said. “I’ll keep Butterball inside from now on.”
The cat sidhe stopped licking his paw long enough to skewer me with a nasty look.
“There’s just one more thing, ma’am,” the cop said. “How about you empty your pockets and show me what you were about to throw into the road.”
Crap! I had some very unorthodox items in my pockets. How would I explain the bottles of potions and bags of herbs? Heck, the cop would probably think the herbs were drugs. Even though they’d discover their benign nature once tested, I’d still be looking at cuffs and a ride in this guy’s squad car.
I may not have inherited the family allergy to iron, but being cuffed and trapped in a metal box was not how I wanted to spend my evening. And if I was hauled downtown, they’d frisk me for weapons. I may eventually talk my way out of the herbs and charms, and the stakes at my back were only pencils to anyone but the undead, but the concealed silver throwing knives strapped to each arm, not to mention the iron dagger in my boot, could cause some serious trouble.
I looked into
the cop’s face and struggled to remain calm. His eyebrow twitched and his hand slid onto his gun. I tried not to stare at the handcuffs hanging from the officer’s belt as I adjusted my grip on the cat. If I started glowing again, I’d probably wind up getting shot.
Mab’s bloody freaking bones.
“You surprise me, Princess,” the cat sidhe said. “You swear like a lubber fiend.”
Shut up. I juggled the cat onto my left arm and slowly reached into my right pocket. I slid the vial of iron shavings from my coat with shaking fingers. I held it out to the officer as something fell from my pocket onto the damp pavement.
“What’s this?” the cop asked, reaching for the vial.
“Glitter, um, for the holidays,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow as he lifted the “glitter” for a closer look, but the glass vial only contained metal shavings.
“And this?” he asked.
The cop bent down, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the baggy at my feet. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.
“Catnip,” I said, hoping the herb wasn’t something obviously poisonous. “I was using it to get Butterball to come to me.”
With a thrust of his hind legs “Butterball” launched himself from my arms, startling the cop. The cat sidhe snatched the bag of herbs with his teeth and dropped it at our feet where he began rolling and rubbing himself on the baggy.
“See,” I said, shakily. “He really likes it.”
St. Mary’s church bells tolled the hour, a reminder that night would soon replace the foggy day. I didn’t want Jinx out here much longer. The Hill was no place for humans come nightfall. The cop tipped his head back to look skyward and grunted.
“Go on then and get your cat home,” he said. “These streets are no place to wander alone at night.”