Luke had no idea what it was like growing up with her. I would have run away at an earlier age, if it hadn't been for my father.
"Maybe she's changed," he suggested.
"And maybe pigs only fly at sunset," I said. "No, she wants something—and whatever it is, I'm not interested. If I never speak to her again, it will be too soon."
He frowned, disappointed. But it was true. That woman had been a wicked witch to me. She wasn't about to turn herself into my fairy godmother after all these years.
Dinner was over far too quickly. I didn't know where the time went, but once the conversation turned away from my evil mother, the night slipped away—along with a bottle of house red. I suggested we pass on having dessert and head straight home to bed, but Luke insisted he'd earned something chocolatey and unhealthy. He was really cute when he insisted. The sweetest dimple formed in his left cheek.
Wait a minute. He's never this insistent.
"What's going on?" I asked, keeping my tone light and cheerful. "You never want dessert."
Luke was a health nut. Not surprising, given his line of work. He figured he wouldn't be a very good oncologist if he didn't practice what he preached and ended up with cancer himself. So he was up at five every morning to hit the gym, and sometimes when he came home he did a few laps in the building's pool. His meals were always full of fibre and vegetables. And he almost always passed on dessert, including birthday cake and Christmas cookies. And anything good.
His expression turned serious and I suddenly got very nervous.
"Julia, we've been seeing each other for a couple years now, right?"
Butterflies performed Swan Lake in my stomach.
"Yeah." Two years, three months and eight days, and living in his condo for almost as long.
Was this the break-up speech? Was the dessert to smooth things over after he broke up with me?
Not my Luke.
Please, no.
He swallowed nervously before continuing. "And in that time, I've come to know you more than I've known anyone on the planet."
"Okay," I said, playing along. Please don't break up with me. Please don't break up with me.
"And, well, I can't really imagine my life any other way."
The butterflies suddenly threw a rave party.
The waiter arrived and placed a warm, dark chocolate brownie with raspberry sauce and fresh berries before me. The couples at the other tables pulled out violins and began playing a soft tune behind me.
Studded into the top of my dessert was a diamond ring.
My mouth fell open. Luke grinned, the light shining in his eyes. The violins crescendoed their high notes.
"You brought in violinists?" They'd been covertly eating dinner like any other customer until our dessert arrived. "Oh, wow. No one's ever done anything like this for me before," I said softly.
No wonder Luke had seemed so disappointed when I was late and not interested in going out tonight. He'd gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this—more than I'd supposed.
He slipped out of his chair and bent down on one knee. "Will you marry me?"
I couldn't take a breath to speak. Shell-shocked and scattered, all senses dissolved.
"I-- I thought you were breaking up with me," I stuttered.
The waiter hung back a few tables to give us a little privacy while remaining in range to witness the happy moment; he seemed very pleased with himself for pulling off this choreographed event.
Luke noticed I hadn't jumped for joy yet, like a normal girl. He glanced over at the waiter, an eyebrow raised. The waiter both shrugged and nodded encouragingly.
I didn't know how to answer. Yes, I wanted to marry Luke, but there was the complication of my job. No doubt my boss would not approve. He already saw Luke as a distraction I couldn't afford.
"Is that a yes?" Luke asked cautiously.
This was my life, not my boss's. I had a right to not go home alone every night.
I allowed my joy a moment to break free in the form of a smile. "Yes. Yes, it is."
He grinned and slipped the ring onto my finger. His arms went around me and he lifted me up. His lips found mine. My chair fell over. The waiter cheered and popped the cork on a bottle of champagne.
I could make this double life work for a while longer, couldn't I? Just long enough to quit and then take up a normal life. Maybe become a real insurance agent.
It was around midnight by the time we climbed out of the taxi in front of our condo. I think we were both feeling a little tipsy from the good champagne, good food, and late hour. Which was why I didn't feel the tingling sensation of my fae-dar until it was too late.
First a faerie near the restaurant, and now outside my home. I couldn't accept this as a coincidence--it was a threat. I had to confront whatever it was and deal with it, even if it meant a capture and detainment tonight. There was just one problem.
Luke.
"Um, I forgot my cell phone in my car, and I just remembered I was supposed to text my boss my findings from my last appointment," I said to Luke once we'd reached the lobby. I gave him my best apologetic look.
"Julia, it's almost midnight. It can wait until the morning," he said. His hand was firmly on my arm.
What was I doing? He'd gone through a mega load of trouble to put on this special night for me, and I was going faerie hunting?
Sometimes this job really stunk.
"You're right, but this will take five minutes," I insisted. "It's a high-priority client and my boss wants to meet with him first thing in the morning. He needs my preliminary report before the meeting."
He pressed his body into mine, catching my lips with his. "I don't want you going down there alone."
It took every scrap of willpower I had to pull away instead of leaning into his embrace. "I won't be alone." I pointed to the security guard office. "Ahmed is on patrol tonight."
Luke's looked at the guard's room and back at me.
"Five minutes to type out a report," I said.
"Always working." Reluctantly, Luke released me with a kiss. "All right. I'll go warm up the bed."
I gave him a smile as the elevator doors closed between us, and then I headed outside to face the faerie who'd dared to follow me home.
4
I followed the vibrational thread back outside. All faeries gave off an electric vibration—at least they did for me. My boss, Magnusson, said he could smell them. Oshaun sensed their auras. I felt an electric current. I didn't have any explanation for it. It wasn't until Magnusson found me and recruited me that I learned what those vibrations were and how to use them.
This particular vibrational thread was strong. It occurred to me I could have been headed straight into a trap. If that was the case, then this was a pretty stupid idea. High heels, cocktail dress and my raincoat were not ideal attire for fae hunting. I didn't even have my gun.
Yeah, this was a bad idea. I decided to head back to the condo.
"We need to talk," a male voice called out in the darkness between buildings.
"Who's we?" I challenged, making no move to go into the shadows. I wasn't totally stupid. Stay in the light where everyone can see what's going on.
I turned to face the voice. The bitter March wind pushed at my back like a gentle hand ushering me toward the alley. I planted my heels firmly into the snowy sidewalk and refused to budge.
A man stepped into the dim street light, but with his long black coat and dark hair, most of him remained hidden in the shadows. I caught a glimpse of his face: high cheekbones and strong jaw. Faerie. And powerful, if he was that good looking. He could easily pass for a human—a gorgeous one. Not that I was paying attention to his looks. I was a newly engaged woman.
"You may call me Simon," he said.
For faeries, names have power and are to be guarded at all costs. They certainly don't offer them up lightly. This likely wasn't his true name. "What do you want?"
He didn't necessarily know who I was or what I did. This could be
an entirely random encounter with a faerie, in which case he would think I was an ignorant human.
Yeah, right. Nothing about this felt random. It felt targeted. I was certain I hadn't put this one away in a salt cell, but maybe I’d put away one of his friends? Again, I wished I had my gun.
"Only to talk," he said. His expression was serious. Gorgeously serious.
"So talk."
The lines of his jaw tightened. "We want to hire you."
I turned away. "I don't work for faeries."
"I know who you work for. I know what you do." It wasn't a direct threat, more implied. Maybe he hated me for my job. I had a sudden feeling he could kill me with no more than a thought.
Luke.
The hairs on my arms stood straight up. This Simon knew where I lived.
Maybe I should hear what he has to say. Maybe then he would leave me alone. Leave us alone.
"Yeah? I'm listening."
"I represent a group of concerned…fae." He spat out the last word. From my encounters, I gathered they didn't like to be called fae, but since they wouldn't divulge another name for themselves, this was it. The terms fae and faerie could be used synonymously, which was a little confusing since they also referred to their old realm as Faerie.
I smirked. "Let me guess. You want to protest our actions? You picked an interesting time of night for this conversation."
"It was important to speak to you when I can have your full attention and we wouldn't be disturbed by the other members of your team." The wind flapped at his coat, snapping it like a flag. He stood resolutely, unmoved by the weather. "They are, shall we say, less open minded."
He meant Magnusson and his strict policy of not trusting anything the fae had to say.
If Simon thought I was going to betray my boss, then he had another think coming.
"Make an appointment during normal business hours. And make sure there's coffee." I turned to leave again.
"Wait," he said. He sounded like he was calling on the last of his patience.
I waited. "You want my attention? Get to the point."
It was very important not to show weakness when dealing with faeries. They were remarkably intuitive and resourceful. A weakness in the hands of a faerie was the equivalent of a knife to the throat.
It was also possible the champagne was making me cockier than usual.
"We heard about the problem tonight at the hockey arena," the faerie said. "We were delighted to hear no one was harmed. He has, shall we say, an explosive personality."
"You came all the way here to tell me that?" I snapped, letting fear erupt as anger. It had to be the champagne talking.
"I came to offer you information. Perhaps I selected the wrong agent after all." His words were harsh and clipped, his tone haughty. I got the distinct impression he thought of himself as royalty.
He made like he was going to leave.
I was well aware Simon was manipulating me. For that reason, I should have let him go. I didn't play faerie games. But I was more interested in catching Flint than in preserving my ego, and Simon was offering information on the little firework fae that got away. So, I tucked my ego into my pocket. For now.
"In exchange for what?" I asked. There was always a price.
"Information," he said.
"Why are you so suddenly free with the information when you haven't been bothered before?"
"Tonight's disturbance has affected delicate negotiations. The sooner you do your job, the sooner we get back to what we were doing."
"Which would be...what exactly?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"That's not good enough. You said you were offering information."
He moved out of the alley in a smooth motion, and I instinctively stepped backward, trying to maintain the distance between us. Simon glanced up and down the street, as though checking to be sure we wouldn't be overheard. It was all so B-movie, cloak-and-dagger, and I wanted to tell him he wouldn't be making that Oscar speech, but I kept my mouth shut.
"The one at the arena tonight--" he said.
"Flint."
"Flint?"
"That's what I call him."
"Flint belongs to the more delicate Summer Court." His voice hitched before he used the name I'd dubbed the sparkler faerie. "We were making treaty negotiations when his entire court disappeared."
"The entire court? How many are we talking about here?"
"Thousands. We've had no sign of them until now." His voice reminded me of the smooth, velvety chocolate brownie from dinner. "It’s normal for some of the lesser to hibernate, but the most troubling part is the disappearance of the Summer Queen and her council."
"Maybe she was tired of negotiating?"
"She wouldn’t have walked away from this, and she certainly wouldn’t allow members of her Court, like Flint, to run amok."
"Why now?" The champagne was wearing off. Maybe it was the cold wind or the bitter taste of cooperating with a faerie. Either way, I was sobering fast.
"Why, indeed. This is why we've come to you. We want to hire you to find them."
I shook my head. "What is the price for this information you've just given me?" I asked.
He smiled. "You let us know what you find out."
"And turn a blind eye if we find out one of your Court caused harm to the Summer fae?" I smirked. I was on to him, and there was no way I was going to agree to this.
"My Court? I assure you none of the Spring Court had anything to do with this." He narrowed his eyes. I had a glimpse of the pale blue-green colour and was reminded of robins' eggs. "I came here to assist you. Not to bypass your agency’s punishment."
I hadn't envisioned him wanting to see one of his own kind contained by the iron and salt of our holding cells.
"I know it might seem…heartless of us, but yes. My sovereign's Court prefers to live in harmony with humans, though we realize sometimes this seems like the minority opinion." His mouth shifted into a grimace. But whether he meant what he said or not was still in question.
I snorted. "I'll believe it when I see it." I shifted my weight from foot to foot, shuffling slightly, putting my back in the general direction of my condo's front doors. "If we’re done here, I'm going to bed."
"You don't believe me." It sounded like my lack of faith concerned him.
"I think you're full of shit." His group of "concerned" fae just jumped to the top of the suspect list.
"Then why am I here?"
"I don't have the first clue why you're here. If you're so concerned about Flint and the rest of your kind that harm humans, why don't you catch them and contain them yourself?"
"Believe me, if we could, we would, but there are rules."
My brain swirled in my skull. A headache was coming on fast. "So who did this? Who can make an entire Court disappear?"
"Who could drop the Veil and pull us out of our home?"
"You think the same group did this?"
"As stated, we are working to find out. We believe working with you would expedite the process."
Flint was part of the missing fae. Did he go back to where the others are? Great. I might have actually had a lead on this and he got away.
"Bull. Fix this yourself. Find them."
He clenched his jaw. "We. Can't."
"Why not?"
"I told you. There are rules. There's a delicate negotiation in progress—"
"So what? Find someone else."
"We can also offer compensation."
I shrugged. "Not interested."
"We would be working together. We will provide you with information that will assist with captures." It seemed to pain him to have to say it.
"I work alone."
"Oh, how naïve you are," he spat.
I snorted, amused that I was getting under skin. "You don't get it. I don't work for or with faeries. I capture them. You’re the bad guys, remember?"
He stared at me as though weighing and measuring my words.
&nbs
p; "I will give you a few days to consider. But know this: if the missing ones are not found, this reign of Winter will be the harshest the world has ever seen." His words were clear and seemed to speak directly to my heart. "When you learn something, say my name. I will find you."
"By the way, did you know there's a large black dog following you?" he said.
Simon spun on his heel and made swift strides away from me, away from the street light, until he was swallowed by the shadows.
I stood against the winter wind, feeling like I was missing a key piece of this conversation. There seemed to have been some cryptic guidance for catching Flint, but he’d also alluded to something far more important than a treaty negotiation.
I shook my head. I could sort it out in the morning when I was fresh. For now, I had a hot man waiting for me in a warm bed, and I would be damned if I would let fae matters keep me from giving him my full attention.
There was just one more thing.
I turned away from the front doors of my building and faced the street. The bitter wind flapped at the bottom of my coat, making my calves into blocks of ice.
"I know you're out there...now," I said. "And I'm pretty sure you can hear me."
Across the street, from the shadow of an alleyway, a black dog cautiously stepped out and sat next to the snowbank on the sidewalk under the spill of sodium light mounted to the hydro poles.
Leander Deacon.
Memories from the last time I saw that dog rose and a swell of emotion crushed my chest.
I knew I needed to tell him to stop following me. He'd been seen by Simon. Others might not be so kind. I didn't want him hurt because he was watching out for me.
But I also knew why he was here, and no words from me would ever convince him he'd repaid his debt and could go home. As far as I knew, he had no home. No family. He had nothing left but a sense of duty.
"Be careful," I said. It didn't feel like enough, so I added, "The security guards make regular trips to Tim Hortons. Slip inside the parking garage when they make their next run. There's a heating vent at the west end. You'll at least be out of the cold there."
I turned and went inside.
Winterstruck: an urban fantasy supernatural crime thriller Page 3