“Borrow…what? Why?”
“To sell on the open market, I’ll bet,” Delia said.
I paused, remembering what Jordan had told me about how much it cost on the open market. “Damn it, you were going to profit off of Sandy’s misfortune?”
“I wasn’t going to take what you needed for her antidote! Honest!” He looked so affronted that I couldn’t help but believe him, especially after he had admitted he was going to “borrow” the rest of it.
Delia shook her head. “Oh, Gillymack. You’ll never change, will you? You’ve always taken the easy way out and it usually tramples over somebody else. What am I going to do with you this time? If I throw you in jail, it means special treatment because you’re one of the merfolk. And it never does any good.”
He shuffled, staring at the floor. “What if I told you I know somebody who might be behind Sandy’s attack? Would that square it up this time?”
I lost it. “You know who did it and you’ve been hiding the information? And now you want to use it as a get-out-of-jail-free card? I ought to—”
“Hold your horses, Maddy!” Gillymack flashed a look of annoyance at me. “I didn’t say I’ve been hiding anything. When you asked me to look into things yesterday, I started poking around. Do not ask me how I found out, because I’d be putting a friend in danger.”
“All right, for the sake of the argument, we won’t. So what did you find out?”
He scratched his neck, looking uncomfortable. “I found out that there are several Meré living in town who have been lying low. When I saw who they were, I recognized one of them. He happens to be a buddy of Prince Mellaton, the king’s son. The prince was against his father’s decision to sell the Strand to the Bedlam Council, but his father told him to shut up.”
Delia and I gave each other a long look. “That in itself isn’t an indictment, but there has to be a reason they’re hiding who they are. It’s not like merfolk aren’t welcome here, so something must be going on.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m thinking so. I mean, nobody goes around wearing a nametag with their race on it, but really… What makes you so sure they’ve been hiding who they are, Gillymack?”
“Because I followed them to the store last night. While they were shopping, somebody happened to ask them if they were from Ocana—the Meré city. They outright said no and walked away really quickly.”
“That was an awfully convenient question.” Delia rubbed her chin.
“It’s amazing how far twenty dollars will go to convincing a stranger to ask the right question.” Gillymack grinned, ducking his head. “I wanted to hear what they said but if I asked, they would have pinned me as one of them right away.”
She nodded. “That still doesn’t mean they are lying about being merfolk, but it’s odd, all right.” She glanced at me. “What do you think?”
I still wasn’t happy, but it was a chance. “I think we need to check them out. I have an idea, but I don’t want to talk to you about it in front of light-fingers here.” I nodded at Gillymack.
He rolled his eyes, but said nothing.
“All right. Here’s the deal, Gillymack. You give me the information on the men.”
“They’re roomies. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Whatever. I’ll check it out. If you’re correct, then you go free this time—though you never attempt to steal anything from Maddy or Jordan again, or I’ll stick you in an underwater dungeon and leave you there. Got it?”
He nodded, looking a little more relieved. “All right. I’ll go for that.”
“In addition,” she continued, talking right over him. “If I catch wind that you are even thinking about stealing anything from anybody, if you vandalize, spindle, or destroy anything, if you so much as cross the street wrong, you’re out of Bedlam for good and if I catch you back here, I’ll lock you up till you’re an old, old, man.”
He snorted. “In other words, be a good little fishy?”
“Something like that.” Delia crossed her arms. “What will it be?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Oh, you have a choice,” I said. “You can play by the rules and keep your nose clean, or you can fuck up and pay the cost. Your decision.”
He let out a long put-upon sigh. “Fine. I promise.”
“All right, give me their names and where they live, and you can go, but you damned well better keep your mouth shut about what’s going on,” Delia said. “I hear one rumor on the street and all bets are off. As well as all deals.”
Gillymack wrote down their names and address—the pair lived in the same apartment—and then Delia unlocked the cuffs. He stood for a moment, rubbing his arms.
“All right. Get out of here before I decide to drag your source’s name out of you. Now.”
Gillymack didn’t have to be told twice. He headed out the door on a run.
“Seems he was eager to get away. You think he’ll say anything?” I asked.
She paused, then shook her head. “Nope. I think he realizes how close he is to spending his life in a fishbowl, so to speak. It strikes me that Gillymack isn’t going to want people to know he’s working with the police, either. Nor will he be anxious for the Meré to know he’s ratting out his own kind.”
I glanced at the names. Nope. Didn’t recognize either. Then again, I didn’t know a good share of Bedlam’s over six thousand inhabitants. I saw a number of them at the public rituals but not by name.
“I had an idea. What if we set up a trap to lure them in once Sandy’s awake. Bust out a huge welcome-back party or something, so whoever did it knows she came out of it. They’ll try again. You know they will.” It would take a lot of man-hours but it was, I thought, the only chance we had of making certain she was safe.
“I think that’s our best bet, actually. We’ll throw a big party—or rather, you will. It wouldn’t be conducive if I’m seen to be involved. But my men and I will be there. Hold the party at…oh…what about Chively Manor?”
Chively Manor was an old estate that rented out for big events like weddings, office parties, cotillions, and the like. It was expensive, but they provided catering services on site, and the manor was exquisitely decked out in whatever theme you chose.
“I can ask Max to help me foot the bill.” I glanced at my watch. “Jordan said it would take three hours for the formula to be ready. We’ve still got about two to go. I guess we should make sure she comes out of the coma before going ahead with our plan. And once she does wake up, we should keep it quiet until I can throw together this shindig to prevent her attacker from making another attempt before we’re ready.”
“I suggest you go talk to Max. You can’t do much here until the antidote is ready. I’ll stick around and make certain Jordan doesn’t have any more unexpected visitors.”
I smiled, relieved. “Thanks. You know what ticks me off more than just about anything? Gillymack was watching me undress. He saw me naked.”
Delia laughed. “Then perhaps you should charge him for the privilege.”
Snorting, I looped my arm through hers as we walked back to Jordan’s office. “I don’t want to put any ideas into his head.”
MAX WAS DEFINITELY down with the idea when I laid it out for him. He had met me at Randy’s Burgers, a fast-food joint a couple blocks away from Jordan’s office. I was sipping on a strawberry shake and eating a salad—out of deference to my trainer, who had left me several rather stern text messages—and Max was eating a fish filet and fries.
“I’ll get started on it as soon as we know she’s going to be all right.” He paused, sopping up ketchup with a fry. “Maddy, she will be all right, won’t she?” The look on his face told me he was totally head over heels for Sandy, and in agony right now.
“I think she will. Jordan said it should work.” I reached out, putting my hand over his. “You love her a lot, don’t you?”
He nodded, staring at his plate. “We’ve said
the words, but I’ve tried to keep it light because Sandy’s hard to pin down. I’m afraid of chasing her away if I come on too strong.”
“Sandy’s had a lot of water flow under that heart-shaped bridge, Max. She’s gun-shy, and has had reason to be. But I know she loves you. I know she thinks you’re wonderful. I would think…as long as you don’t bring up the ‘M’ word at this point…you can rest easy on that point.”
I didn’t want to speak for my best friend, but I knew she loved Max, and I knew she was coming around to being comfortable in a relationship again. Her late husband Bart had broken her heart. They had managed to become friends again, but it had taken a long time. He had left her for another man. And before him, she had been in and out of one bad relationship after another. But Max was different. Somehow, I didn’t think he was going to ride off into the sunset any time soon.
My phone rang at that moment. I glanced at the Caller ID. Jordan.
“Here. Are you ready? Is the antidote ready?”
“Yes, and yes. Meet me at the hospital in twenty minutes.”
I shoved my phone back in my bra, where I carried it when I wore low-cut tops. “Dude, he’s ready. Hospital, twenty minutes.” Max began to wolf down his food. I laughed and tapped the table in front of him. “Slow down or you’ll choke. We have time. It’s not that far to the hospital and I want the rest of my shake.” Truth was, I was just as anxious to get going, but I didn’t want both of us to seem like nervous wrecks.
WE ARRIVED AT the hospital shortly after Jordan did, and gathered in Sandy’s room. I took a deep breath and reached for Max’s hand as Jordan began to administer the antidote. It was a lot of fluid, so he injected it into her IV and then stood back.
“It should take about fifteen minutes. I put the drip on high and it’s a highly concentrated dose.” Jordan leafed through her chart, frowning. Every moment or two, he would glance over at her.
Max and I stood by the bed, watching for any sign of movement, any sign of consciousness. My heart was thudding. This had to work. Sandy had to wake up. I didn’t know what I’d do if it failed. Make Jordan try another batch, I suppose, but the truth was, I was hitching all my hopes on this. I pressed my hand to my mouth, biting my knuckles.
Max noticed and he wrapped his arm around me. “She’ll be all right. She’ll come back to us. She has to. We both need her so much.”
Five minutes passed, then ten and nothing. My stomach twisted as I tried not to cry. I couldn’t imagine my life without Sandy. We did everything together. We’d been together for over three centuries and she was the only one in the world who really, truly, knew me.
“Please, Sandy, wake up,” I whispered. “Please wake up. We need you.” Suddenly unable to watch anymore, I broke free from Max’s arm and walked over to the window, staring bleakly outside. What if it didn’t work? What if she wasn’t going to come out of it?
Another moment, and then Jordan said, “Maddy!”
I whirled to see him by Sandy’s side, checking her pulse, waving Max back.
“Is she all right? Is she okay?”
Sandy’s eyes began to twitch, and then, after one long, tortuous moment, she slowly opened them, blinking rapidly.
“Sandy!” I ran back to the bed, trying not to shove Max out of the way.
“Give me room!” Jordan motioned for both of us to back off. We did, and he began to examine her, taking her pulse, feeling her forehead. Her eyes were open and she looked confused, but then, she glanced to the side at us, and smiled weakly.
“Sandy, you’re back!” I felt the tears sliding down my face but didn’t bother to wipe them away. They were tears of relief, and they did a body good.
AFTER THAT, JORDAN shooed us out of the room for a few minutes. When we were allowed back in, she was sitting up, a bed jacket around her shoulders, looking weak but tired.
“I explained to her what happened, so she knows. She also knows she’s been in a coma for six days, and that some of her dreams showed up in the streets of Bedlam.” He stood back. “You can talk to her, but only for a few minutes. She needs to rest, as contrary as that might sound. She’ll be weak for a while. When dreams leave the body and manifest, they drain the dreamer of energy. It’s like a battery losing some of the charge.”
He left us alone with her. “I’ll be back in a few.”
As soon as he was gone, Sandy tried to get up but we made her lie back down.
“Until the doctor okays you getting out of bed, you stay there,” Max said.
Sandy pushed back her hair. “I must look a fright.”
“You’re the most beautiful sight in the world.” Max kissed her forehead.
I decided they needed to be alone for a little while, but wanted at least a moment with my best friend. “Listen, we’ve figured out why this happened, and we have a pretty good idea about who did it. You’re going to be bait in a day or two. Delia and I are hoping our plan will catch the freak who’s been trying to kill you. You really pissed off some of the merfolk, it seems, by building on the Strand.” I quickly ran down what we had learned.
She blinked. “You know, that makes sense. There was a lot of opposition to me buying that land. Somebody was trying to outbid me, and I distinctly remember some man throwing down a pamphlet—when you buy auctioned land, you get a pamphlet describing the various lots—and stomping off. I wonder if there are any records as to who was bidding against me. You should check the Bedlam County Treasurer’s Office. They’re the ones that held the auction.”
“I can do that tomorrow morning. Or maybe Delia can get in there tonight.” I took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You get stronger. We want you out of this bed. I love you, woman.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
As I headed for the door, leaving her and Max alone, she called out, “Thanks, Maddy. You know…I’ll always do the same for you. Anything you need, I’m here.”
“I just need you to be up and going again,” I said before closing the door softly behind me. The moment I was outside the room, I broke down in tears. Once in my car, I whispered a prayer of thanks to Arianrhod until I stopped shaking.
Chapter 17
DELIA PROMISED TO check the records as soon as she could, so I drove home. By now, it was nearly seven and I was exhausted. I wanted to stay with Sandy but I had been neglecting my own life due to the havoc that had been playing out, and I was hit with a weariness that felt bone-deep. Kelson poured me a glass of wine, and I knew she wanted to ask how Sandy was doing, but I didn’t dare say anything. I couldn’t chance any rumor getting out until we were ready to play out our plan.
As I carried the wine up to my bedroom, where I was planning on taking a long shower to wash the smell of the sea off me, Franny met me at the top of the stairs. I wasn’t in a chatty mood, but she seemed lonely, so I nodded for her to come in my bedroom.
“It’s all right this time. Come on in, but I warn you, I’m undressing and getting in a bathtub full of bubbles.” I set the goblet down on the counter and began to draw my bath. I poured in a couple capfuls of amber bath gel, then stripped.
Franny shook her head, but at least she had stopped tsking every time anybody did something the least bit risqué. “I wanted to ask you something. I’ve been reading a number of books on politics.”
I groaned. “No heavy-duty political discussions, please. I just can’t handle it tonight.”
“No, I won’t, but I am wondering if the Otherkin have the right to vote? Since women didn’t get the right to vote until August 18, 1920—which if you will notice is over one hundred years after I died—then have the Otherkin secured that right? And if so, all of you? Or just some? Can vampires vote?” She shrugged as she leaned against the counter, a disconcerting sight because she was leaning partway through the counter as usual.
I stepped into the steaming water and carefully lowered myself into it, balancing my goblet on the side of the tub. I settled beneath the bubbles and leaned back, closing my eyes
as the steam began to work into my muscles. As I took a sip of wine, I thought that for the first time in almost a week, I was able to relax. Leaning my head back against the bath pillow, I glanced over at Franny.
“The answer’s not black and white. There are a lot of gray areas. Most Otherkin have the right to vote. Vampires and Fae are special cases. If you’re Fae, and you have a physical address outside of the Fae realms, yes, you are allowed to vote. If you live in the courts of Winter or Summer, no, because those are sovereign nations and not within the boundaries of the country per se. Vampires—well, since they technically died, no, they aren’t. There are bills being pushed through Congress now to allow them to register again, if they agree to pay taxes and follow the laws. I think they call them ‘second-timers.’ However, a number of the vampire community, especially the old guard, see that as capitulation and want nothing to do with it.”
“It’s very complicated, isn’t it?” Franny let out an audible sigh, which I always found odd since ghosts didn’t breathe. They didn’t even have lungs. “I wonder if they’d allow ghosts to vote, since we’re dead as well. If vampires can, why not spirits who lived in the country before we died? I found an online mention of an astral support group for spirits and I’d be interested in joining it, but I’m trapped here and couldn’t make the meetings.”
I stared at her. “You really want to join something like that? I thought once you were free of your body, you’re supposed to move on—if you can. I mean, you’re trapped here, but if I find a way to break the curse, why would you want to hang around? Aren’t you supposed to go reincarnate or something like that?”
She blinked, looking almost hurt. “You don’t want me here?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m asking, not telling you. I thought you’d be itching to get out there and see the world after being trapped in this house for over almost two hundred years.”
Franny shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what I want. I haven’t really even thought about it in a long, long time because it seemed futile. A masochistic sort of thing.”
Siren's Song (Bewitching Bedlam Book 3) Page 23