Taken

by Claire Farrell

“It might be bullshit though,” I said, ignoring a pang of hurt that tried its best to distract me. “Moses isn’t exactly Mr. Clean.”

  “It’s better than the sweet-fuck-all we have now. At least we’ll be ruling out another lead if it turns out to be nothing.”

  “Fine. What’s the deal?”

  “We’re to meet him at the IFSC in the middle of the night, behind the bank, just us two.”

  I frowned. “Why the middle of the night? That’s weird.”

  “Less chance of being seen. He’s an informer, Ava. He has to think of his safety in this. We don’t have a name, but we’ll see him on Saturday. It’s not a big deal. We’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah.” But I didn’t feel fine at all, and I got the sense Peter was latching on to any lead at all. Too many secrets were coming out of the woodwork, and I almost refused to go, but I had promised Esther, and that meant more to me than my own made-up discomfort.

  Peter remained jumpy with energy, and when I hinted at an early night, he left to “take care of some business.”

  ***

  The following evening, Esther called. “The lead is a no-go, Ava. I’m sorry. He was so senile that I couldn’t get a full sentence out of him.”

  “Poor man,” I said. “We’ll be okay.”

  “As long as our other lead comes through. You’re not backing out, right?”

  “Of course not,” I lied. “I’ve no intentions of backing out.”

  “Well, good, because I’m going to see your twins next. If everything goes well, I might be home by Monday.”

  “Here’s hoping. Just be careful, Esther. Winston, Victor, and Cass aren’t Daimhín. I spent a couple of hours with them, and that was way too much for me. They’re different over there.”

  “Don’t you start. I’ve enough of Aiden’s lectures to last me a lifetime. You might want to keep out of his way. He’s somehow got it into his head that you’re to blame for this.”

  “It’ll keep him on his toes.”

  But when I hung up, I had a terrible feeling that I kept pissing off the wrong people.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nervous tension shuddered and trembled throughout my body as I waited for Peter to pick me up. We were going to meet Illeana’s contact, completely relying on the word of a well-known drug dealer. If Moses had lied, I was going to kill him. That was, if I didn’t die first.

  I sat on my front gate while I waited, drinking in the night air. The moon had always brought something out of me, as if giving me life, and hunger sometimes, but on that night, all I felt was fear.

  The unknown contact had unsettled me, but the way everything seemed to be spiralling out of my reach kept me awake. Too many skeletons rested in too many closets. Too many lies seemed to grow and multiply before my eyes. Who could I trust? Even I was keeping secrets from Peter.

  I pressed my fingers against the long burn down my right arm, flinching at the sting of contact. I knew I had to help the twins, but how could I put Peter second when we were so close to finding out more? And if my suspicions were right, one solution could lead to the other. Everything was connected, and I feared someone had laid a path for me to find my way into the middle of it.

  The familiar sound of Peter’s car engine drew my attention, and I hopped down from the gate, steeling myself. He pulled up, and I jumped into the front passenger seat, ignoring the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped the gear stick and sped off. He was as nervous as I was, but I couldn’t let myself think about it, or I would lose my own nerve.

  “We don’t have to go,” I said after a few minutes.

  “Would you stop? What has you so edgy? You’re making me nervous.”

  I wanted to remind him that he was already nervous, but I didn’t see the point. “I have a bad feeling,” I began, but I couldn’t find the words to continue.

  “It’s not a big deal. You’ve done scarier things.”

  I nodded, still unable to shake the terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m just tired,” I lied.

  “This is your holiday, remember. Daimhín will be back soon enough.”

  “But not yet,” I whispered and fell into silence for the rest of the journey.

  We parked near a Garda station and walked past the bus station to the outer buildings of the International Financial Services Centre. Tall buildings loomed over us, their many windows reflecting moonlight prettily. We were a little early, so we checked out the area, wandering down perfect pathways that were lit up like it was daytime.

  “It’s kind of peaceful here,” I said as we walked closer to the dock. The water lapped in a calming sort of way.

  He shrugged. “You picking up anything yet?”

  I wasn’t. I couldn’t even hear heartbeats, which was strange. There should have been security guards at least, or people in some of the buildings. All I could hear was water. We moved back the way we came, and all of the lights in the buildings switched off, one by one. I swallowed hard as I glanced around, seeing darkness come for us rapidly.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered.

  Peter gripped my arm. “Hear that?”

  I concentrated and heard a shuffling sound, harsh breathing, and slow footsteps coming our way. A shadowed shape slowly moved toward us, the moonlight gleaming off the knife in its hand.

  “Get ready,” Peter said.

  I hesitated. Something was wrong. The only aggression was coming from Peter. If anything, whatever was walking toward us was scared. It was small, slow, and… confused.

  “This isn’t right,” I muttered, but the figure kept coming, and suddenly, the lights came on.

  Peter drew in a choked breath. I threw out a hand to stop him, but missed.

  “That’s it!” he shouted as he ran. “That’s the thing.”

  The thing was green, scaled, and looked like a monster, but something was wrong. Using my other sense, I went to the next plane to see what I was really looking at.

  Human. Shrouded in magic. Human that smelled…

  “Peter, wait! It’s a trick!”

  I ran after him, but his fist collided with the figure before I could reach him, knocking it down. Cinnamon-scented blood filled my nostrils, and in desperation, I threw myself at Peter, taking us both to the ground.

  “Stop it!” I shrieked as he struggled with me, his hands reaching for my throat in his rage. “Stop it!” I straddled him and punched his jaw, not hard, just enough to get him to listen to me. “It’s human! It’s a trick! It’s just magic, Peter. It isn’t real.”

  “It’s real!” he roared, pushing me off and jumping to his feet.

  The figure dropped the knife, trembling visibly on its knees.

  Peter lunged again, but I got in his way. “Listen to me. It’s a child, Peter.”

  “It tried to attack us.”

  “It didn’t. It stood there with a weapon in its hand. It didn’t attack you. What you saw back then… that wasn’t real either.”

  His face contorted with anger, pain, and frustration. “It… it could be the same one.”

  “Peter,” I said softly. “He smells like you. His blood… he’s—”

  “Don’t you dare say it,” he spat. “Don’t you dare.”

  “But I’m sure it’s him, Peter. I’m sure it’s Emmett,” I said, tears in my eyes as I wrapped my arms around what looked like a small monster. “I just know it’s him.”

  “My son is dead!” He turned and ran.

  With a heart weighed down by horror and pity, I turned to the figure. I choked down a sob as he clung to my jacket, blood pouring from his nose.

  “It’s okay,” I said softly. “Everything’s okay.”

  I took off my jacket and wrapped it around him to cover his face. His clothes were falling apart, but they would have to do. On a whim, I took the knife, too. I lifted him—he was light as a feather—and I ran. Whoever had sent him had expected him to die, I supposed, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t come back.

  At first I moved almost
aimlessly, mostly concerned with getting away, but then I found myself running toward Eddie’s bookshop, keeping to shadows as often as possible. Eddie would be awake. He never seemed to sleep. And he was the only one I knew who understood magic and might be able to tell me if my suspicions were correct.

  Peter didn’t believe me. Or he couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t even sure what was going on. There was a chance the person I carried wasn’t Peter’s child. He was a little small, not even as large as nine-year-old Dita. I might have been wrong, building false hope like that. But there was something in my gut that knew the tiny being in my arms belonged to Peter.

  The lights were still on upstairs in Eddie’s home above the shop, so I knew he was awake, but as I lay my hand on the door to push it open, a cold breeze flung itself at me, physically pushing me away. I hesitated before making my decision and running to the end of the road. Looking back, I saw the witch leaving Eddie’s place and silently thanked Maeve for warning me.

  Maeve stuck with me, her cold spirit encasing us as I ran home. I didn’t know who to call, or what to do, but I had to keep the kid safe first, and figure everything out later.

  Once I made it to my cul-de-sac, my arms were shaking, but the sense of relief that settled over me was substantial. We were home. We were safe.

  I carried him into my house and laid him on the sofa. He huddled up into the corner while I went to the bathroom and grabbed a cloth to clean up his face. When I returned, he flinched at my touch.

  “I promise, kid,” I said. “We’ll be fine. I just need to make a phone call, and then I’ll make you something to eat. You must be hungry.”

  I hid the knife he had been carrying on top of the bookshelf, made the call, and went into the kitchen to make some sandwiches and pour a glass of milk. I laid the food and drink on the coffee table in front of the kid, but he didn’t respond, not even a grunt. I got some biscuits and handed him one. He took it carefully, his stumpy fingers trembling, but he didn’t eat it.

  I sat next to him in silence, not quite knowing what to do next. A knock twenty minutes later made him jump, but I reassured him before I answered the door.

  “Come in, Mrs. Yaga. Thanks for this.”

  She sat on a chair across from the child and observed him silently for a few minutes. To my surprise, she smiled at me. “You attract the lost souls, too.”

  I didn’t have a clue what she meant.

  “The magic will wear off,” she said. “It’s just a glamour, intended to fool temporarily. It isn’t permanent. Not enough strength behind it.”

  “Is there any way of telling if it’s him?” I asked. “If he’s Peter’s son?”

  She sighed. “Ava, why do you think it’s that child?”

  “It just makes sense to me. We’ve been asking questions about him, about a creature that looks like he looks right now, and then he gets pushed in our path. And he smells like Peter. His blood… I would know it anywhere. I know Peter. I just know this is Emmett. He’s not talking, though.”

  “Likely he can’t. This is the kind of being Peter saw that night?”

  I nodded. “Yep. And we saw a drawing of it, too. We’ve been trying to match it to a name.”

  “You won’t. It doesn’t exist. This has always been a shroud, a disguise. Whoever is involved in this really doesn’t want to be found.”

  “No, they don’t. But they wanted Peter to hurt his own child. Why?”

  “To distract him? To punish him? If the child had died, the glamour would have vanished, and Peter would have seen the truth. If it’s his child. Either way, he would have killed a child, not a monster. I doubt even he could brush that aside so easily.”

  “It means we’re getting closer to the truth,” I said. “If they’re going this far, then we have to be close.”

  “They might come back for the child,” she warned. “They won’t stop warning you away. You won’t be safe while you keep asking questions.”

  The boy nodded off on the couch, so I carried him into my bedroom to lay him on the bed. When I brushed my hand against his green-scaled face, he nuzzled against my touch in his sleep. A pinch in my stomach reminded me that he wasn’t mine to keep.

  “Can you watch over him for a while?” I asked my landlady when I went back into the living room. “I need to do something.”

  “Are you going to Peter?”

  “No. He’s… he won’t listen right now. At least, not to me. I’m going to the person who set up the meeting tonight. He has to know something. If he does, then I’ll get it out of him, one way or another.”

  “I will watch over the boy, but you should think twice about jumping straight into battles. Is that really the life you want?”

  “Do I have a choice?” I asked, deadly serious. “I don’t see any other way for me.”

  “I once thought the same,” she said with a secretive smile. “Perhaps your life will change as mine did.”

  “Do you know what it is I’m going after?”

  She shook her head, her wrinkles deepening. “Nobody does. That tells me enough to know it is a battle I cannot win. This isn’t some small-time demon making a few extra euro, Ava. This is a sprawling arrangement that could take your life if you interfere too much.”

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache setting in. “And if I sit around and do nothing, I’ll torture myself with what ifs. There are children somewhere, waiting to be sold. How many have already been sold? All because nobody gives a crap.”

  She nodded again. “And you see yourself there, with those children.”

  I ignored that remark. “I need to go. Thank you for watching him. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I left before she could plant any more seeds of doubt in my mind. I had to find Moses, and I would poke out his eyeballs before I returned home without some answers.

  The flats were silent when I finally got there. I heard an occasional burst of laughter through an open window and an odd wail of a cat, but mostly, silence. I realised for the first time that the streetlights surrounding the flats were all broken, every single one, and I remembered the lights going out before the child appeared and only coming back on as if to ensure we didn’t miss him.

  Seeing the lights were still on in his home, I ran up the stairwell to Moses’s flat. I rang the bell, and as soon as a woman answered the door, I pushed past her and went straight for the living room. A couple of men were playing some video soccer game in front of a massive television on the far wall.

  When Moses caught sight of me, he hesitated before giving me his usual fake grin. “Where’s your friend?”

  I flew at him, fangs out, my fingers clutching his face as if I were about to pull it off. “Back off!” I snapped at the others before they could put their hands on me. At the sight of my true face, they all took a step back, glancing at each other nervously.

  “You set us up,” I hissed at Moses, relishing the fear in his eyes. “Tell me what the hell you know before I rip out your heart.”

  He swallowed noisily. “I don’t know anything. I swear.”

  My nails dug into his skin, freeing trickles of blood. The men made a move, grabbing my arms to pull me away. I struggled against them, punching and kicking wildly, until Moses shouted at us all to stop.

  “Just chill the fuck out,” he demanded, making a show of relaxing in his chair. “Now, what kind of evil bitch are you? Because you sure as hell don’t look like a vampire.”

  “Except for those fucking teeth,” one of his friends muttered, and they all laughed nervously.

  “I’m the person who’s going to kill everyone in this room if you don’t start talking right now.”

  “I take it the meeting didn’t go well,” he said, lighting a joint with shaky fingers.

  “No, it didn’t fucking go well. They sent a child to be killed by us; that’s what fucking happened. Where’s the contact? Who is he? Who does he work for? What—”

  “Hold up. I’ll find him.” He held my gaze. “I didn’t play matchmaker to hav
e some kid caught up in the middle of it. He’s made a tit out of me, and I’ll find out why.”

  I sat on a chair and sighed. Getting information out of anyone was a bitch.

  “I didn’t set you up,” he clarified, leaning forward in his seat. “But don’t go threatening my people, all right?”

  “My friend almost killed his own son because of you,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m not in the mood for your threats.”

  For some reason, that shattered the angry tension in the room. They all muttered together about how terrible that was, and the woman who answered the door, Moses’s mother presumably, brought me a cup of tea.

  “They’re right scumbags,” Moses said sympathetically. “That’s exactly the kind of screwed up shit they get up to.”

  I nodded. “Yep. They kill people and take their kids to sell as slaves. They try to make parents murder their own children. They’re capable of anything, and they get away with it.”

  “I swear to you, I’ll find out what happened. But you really need to stop being seen around here. We don’t want anyone thinking we’re buddying up. It’s dangerous for all of us if it looks like we’re taking sides.”

  “I hear that a lot,” I murmured, getting to my feet. “I should get back. Sorry for the vamp attack.”

  He burst out laughing. “This one’s crazy. Are you a vampire?”

  “Nah. I’m just a mongrel.”

  I left his flat and made it home without incident, and Mrs. Yaga left soon afterward. I sat in a chair by the bed and watched the kid sleep for a while. What had he been through? Peter’s kid or not, I couldn’t keep him with me forever. I had to figure out where he came from and find a place for him to live safely. My life was far too dangerous for a child. I wrapped a blanket around me and dozed off, my dreams full of lost children.

  Chapter Twelve

  I woke up slowly, my vision blurring as I tried to make out the figure standing in front of me. I jumped, gripping the blanket tighter, and my heart wouldn’t stop racing as I studied him.