Wiretaps & Whiskers (The Faerie Files Book 1)

by Emigh Cannaday

  “Dammit!” screamed Hawthorne. “The little fucker scratched me!” A thin stream of blood was running down his hand. “What the hell? I did the same thing you did.”

  “I guess you’re no good with animals,” I said and knocked on the door again. As Logan took a few steps down the wraparound porch, I noticed the flock of cats split in two; half stayed still, keeping an eye on me. The other half closed in around my partner, following him every step of the way.

  Suddenly, out of the darkness, a tiny gray tabby flew out the grass like it was spring-loaded.

  “Fuck!” Logan screamed, jumping a full three inches into the air. “Where did that one come from? Aw, crap—there’s another one rubbing against my leg.”

  “Will you relax?”

  “How am I supposed to do that when I can’t see shit around here?” he moaned, wiping the blood from his hand onto his pants leg.

  “Aww, poor human. Can’t you see in the dark?”

  “Uh, no.”

  Flicking on his phone, he illuminated the spot in front of him with its electric glow. But the light brought him no comfort.

  “Un—fucking—believable. Now I can see even more cats!”

  “Oh my god, Logan! Would you stop bitching for two seconds?”

  “What’s all that ruckus out there?”

  The heavy door swung open and revealed the faint glow of a single candle. Above it, Sylvia’s face shone orange, the light from the flame seeping into the deep lines of her face.

  “Agent Rivera? Is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me, Elena, and my partner, Agent Hawthorne,” I said, approaching her slowly. “I’m so sorry if we woke you.”

  She shook her head.

  “You didn’t. I was just watching Matlock. Took me a minute to hear you knocking. Don’t mind the pj’s,” she said, motioning to her full-length cotton nightgown. It was accessorized with a ratty bathrobe and Crocs. “I like to put them on after dinner. Never know where I’m going to fall asleep.”

  The dozens upon dozens of cats around us started to flock towards her, meowing and rubbing their heads up against her legs. It looked as though she was standing inside a cloud of fur. A very insistent, demanding cloud.

  “Please, come in,” she said, eyeing my partner’s tall frame. “Watch your head. This house wasn’t built for men like you.”

  Logan shot me an anxious glance.

  “Agent Hawthorne,” I said to him slowly. “This is the part where you say ‘thank you’.”

  He hung back for a second before following me.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Following the light from her lone candle, we stepped cautiously through the cats until we entered her front door. The smell of herbs and cat piss immediately hit me, followed by notes of rot and mildew. There were probably bats living inside the walls, although I wasn’t about to tell Logan. He was already muttering under his breath about the house needing to be condemned.

  “You okay back there?” Sylvia asked. “I’ll just take you through to the parlor.”

  “The parlor,” Logan snickered behind me. I whipped around just long enough to tell him to shut up.

  “Just in here,” she said, pointing to a nearby door.

  “Ow!” moaned Logan as a clatter came from beneath his feet.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Just tripped over a loose floorboard. Hey Sylvia, is there any chance you could turn on a light?”

  “Wouldn’t do much good,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s no electricity in here. Only have it in the kitchen.”

  Although I could hear my partner groaning and grumbling, I didn’t share his negativity towards the dark, musty house. Aside from the moldy cat-piss smell, I enjoyed its primitive ambiance. It felt like we’d stepped into an alternate version of the eighteen-hundreds, exploring a parallel universe where humans had been replaced with cats. The flock of felines was still surrounding us as we entered, purring like tiny lawnmowers around Sylvia’s feet.

  “Please,” she said as we entered the living room. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  Now, in addition to all the cats, we were surrounded by dozens of photographs on the wall. They were all of the same handsome young man. Lighting more candles around the room, Sylvia handed one to a grateful Logan who used it to light his path to a nearby sofa. He took a seat, looking over his shoulder repeatedly as though he was afraid ghostly hands or angry claws were going to reach out of the darkness. Meanwhile, I lingered at the fireplace and studied the pictures on the wall.

  “My husband,” explained Sylvia with sadness filling her voice. “He was such a handsome man.”

  “He certainly was.”

  “I only had him for a few short years, but he filled my heart enough to last forever.”

  As she spoke, I noticed the golden glint of her wedding ring still on her finger.

  “You must have loved him so much.”

  “I loved him more than anything. Still do.”

  She gave a little shrug, then walked away from the fireplace to sit beside Logan. If he was uptight before, he now looked as though he had a pole right up his ass. I didn’t think it was possible for someone to look so uncomfortable in their own skin. He flinched as she cozied up beside him and lay a hand on his arm.

  “I don’t imagine you agents dropped in at this time of night to talk about my husband,” she said. “You’re here because of the little girl. The one who just went missing.”

  With the candle held beneath his chin, Logan looked up at me questioningly.

  “I’ll be honest,” he leaned forward to set his candle down on the coffee table in front of him. “I’m not exactly sure why we’re here. It was Elena—I mean, Agent Rivera, who wanted to see you.”

  Sylvia’s gaze met mine and she smiled in understanding. Across the shadowy room a bond grew between us. Woman-to-woman. Spirit-to-spirit. It didn’t need to be put into words. Somehow we just knew that neither of us belonged in this world.

  “I did want to see you,” I explained to her. “I know people laugh at you, but . . . you know things, don’t you?”

  Sylvia nodded her head and sat back in her seat.

  “I know more than people believe.”

  “And you knew what I was. You figured me out.”

  “Indeed I did.”

  Taking a seat beside her, I watched the flicker of the candlelight in her sensitive eyes.

  “No one’s ever done that before,” I told her. “People usually think I’m a little strange, but they never guessed I’m—”

  “A faerie,” said Sylvia. “I could see it in you the moment I looked into your eyes. I’ve met your people before.”

  Logan’s eyes widened but he said nothing. Instead, he remained rooted to his cushion as a group of four cats jumped on the couch to sit beside their mistress. Soon, more of their friends came to join them and before he knew it, there was a clump of them surrounding him.

  One solid black cat sat off to the side, swishing its tail as it eyed Logan suspiciously. Sylvia reached out her hand to invite him closer.

  “Come here, Lafayette. Come get some snuggles.”

  Instead of joining the other cats, Lafayette narrowed his nearly fluorescent green eyes and turned away from her, pretending to be offended.

  “He’s still mad at me for giving him a buzz cut,” she explained. “But my god, he was nothing but mats and burrs. It’ll grow back, sweet boy. That’s why you’re getting fish oil at dinner.”

  Unwavering in his judgment, Lafayette swished his tail.

  “You’re not like everyone else, are you?” I asked her. “You have a gift that people here don’t seem to understand or appreciate.”

  “Was born with it,” she boasted with a smile. “Just like my mom and her mom and so on. All the women in my family were born with the second sight.”

  The purring around us grew louder and when I looked back at Logan he was swamped beneath a heavy pile o
f purring, kneading cats with a look of pure terror in his eyes. I’m pretty sure he was praying that they didn’t sink their claws into his balls.

  “I suppose you could call me a witch,” said Sylvia. “That’s what they called my ancestors before they burned them.” She sighed heavily as though the witch trials were a recent memory. Judging by the age of the house, it might not have been so far-fetched of an idea. “Of course, they couldn’t burn us all,” she winked. “Could they, my little muffins?”

  The cats purred and meowed in response.

  “So, about your gift,” I said. “It can make you see things on the other side, can’t it? That’s why you’ve seen all the weird things in this town that no one else has.”

  “That’s right. They all think I’m crazy, but I can’t help if their eyes weren’t made to see what mine can.”

  “Wh—what can they see?” asked Logan, his voice muffled by a cat butt. He gingerly brushed it aside. I thought about telling him cats were more drawn to people who don’t like them, but this was just too entertaining to watch.

  “I can see different entities,” she said. “Creatures, spirits, you know. Things that live in other dimensions.”

  “Like faeries?” asked Logan.

  “Oh sure, among other things.” Sylvia gave a knowing nod as she continued to cuddle her cats. “I’ve always had the ability to see things the normal people can’t. Not unless they’re trained or born sensitive like I was.”

  Logan, trying to softly push a tortoiseshell cat out of his face, sucked in a lungful of fur-free air. “So you’re saying that all the things McKinney’s been telling us are real?”

  The old woman laughed to herself.

  “What he knows is just the tip of the iceberg. Most people wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen . . . The lights in the sky, the entities, all of it. It can’t neatly be packaged up into a traditional horror story. The things that happened to me, well, they’re not your average ghost stories. It all goes deeper than that.”

  She paused for a second and stared off into the shadows with a serene look on her face.

  “My people have always lived on this land, long before the town of Yarbrough was here,” she said. “Us women always knew the land was sacred. I remember my great-grandma telling me it held a portal that could be opened by those initiated into the mystical realm.”

  “Like Skinwalker Ranch,” I said, thinking out loud.

  “Skinwalker Ranch?” Logan didn’t bother to hide his contemptuous laugh. “I’ve heard of that place. Didn’t some billionaire send a bunch of researchers out there to try and prove the existence of aliens or something?”

  “It’s a lot more complicated than that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “The land there was sacred to the indigenous people for hundreds of years before the ranch was built. And things have been seen on that land that don’t make sense. Things that defy explanation. Humanoid creatures, lights in the sky, monsters, orbs, black helicopters . . . everything. It’s like the ranch won at paranormal bingo.”

  “Sounds a lot like Yarbrough,” said Sylvia. “Just like here, the land at Skinwalker Ranch was thought to be a portal to another dimension. One that all the creatures from beyond could escape from.”

  “But Yarbrough is different,” said Logan, trying desperately to appear rational even as he was surrounded by cats. “In this place, people get trapped inside of it instead of escaping from it. As far as I know, no one went missing at Skinwalker Ranch.”

  We all thought for a second, sitting in silence. Even the cats stopped purring as though they too were deep in contemplation.

  “There’s something different happening here,” said Sylvia. “This isn’t just a matter of things that go bump in the night. There’s something methodical behind these missing kids. They’re not stumbling into another dimension. They’re being taken there.”

  “That’s exactly why we need you,” I said. “I think you can reach the other side. If you truly have second sight, then you can see where they are.”

  For the first time, Sylvia appeared panicked and sat bolt upright. The cat in her lap plopped onto the floor.

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Of course you can,” I urged. “Sylvia, you have the ability to see into the faerie realm like no one else can.”

  “Except you,” she said. “You’re fae. No one will know the kingdom like you do.” I could feel Logan’s eyes focused on me, but I was still looking at Sylvia.

  “If I go, there’s a good chance I won’t come back,” I told her. “It’s a long story, but if anyone recognizes me I’ll be killed on sight. I’m considered a risk to Queen Solana’s throne. Do you really think she’ll let me enter her kingdom and live?”

  “No,” she said, Even Logan appeared wary and concerned as the realization hit him.

  “What good am I to those kids if I’m dead?” I was sitting on the edge of my seat, hoping that my point was being made. “We need someone who’s skilled enough to go into The Hollows, into the fae realm, and not be recognized. I can’t think of anyone more perfect for the job than you.”

  For a long moment, Sylvia looked down into her lap. Another cat had taken the place of the one that fell out. Finally, she raised her head and looked me in the eye.

  “Alright. I’ll do it. No one else can.”

  16

  Logan

  “It’s called remote viewing,” explained Sylvia as she cleared a space on the floor.

  I knelt down beside her, moving my candle from one hand to the other, trying to avoid setting Sylvia or one of her four-legged minions on fire. Around us, the cats settled in a circle, their eyes reflecting green and yellow in the candlelight.

  “What’s remote viewing?” I asked, sitting cross-legged. Elena joined us on the floor, the three of us sitting in a triangle.

  “It makes me a conduit,” explained Sylvia. “Makes time and space irrelevant. Means that I can see right through the matrix of existence.”

  I looked blankly at her. Of all the responses I was expecting, that wasn’t anywhere on my radar.

  “So . . . you’re saying that you can defy the nature of physics?”

  “Pretty much,” said Sylvia, reaching onto the lower shelf of her coffee table. “Let me just get my things and we’ll get started.”

  Dear god. She was acting like we were about to dive into a ten-thousand piece jigsaw puzzle, but no. We were going to bend space and time to our will. I decided to keep my mouth shut and pay attention for the report I was inevitably going to have to write later.

  Pulling a sleeping mask and a notepad and pen off the shelf, she set them down in front of her, running her hands over each item in a quiet ritual.

  “You can see anything when you do this?” I asked. “Does that mean spirits too?”

  “Sometimes. And aliens.”

  “Aliens?” Oh wow. I was in for a real show.

  “Yes, I can see them too, although I’d rather not. They give me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re basically telling me your brain is a giant telescope that can see through all the different dimensions of the universe. Is that right?”

  “No. I can see through all the dimensions of multiple universes,” she said with a smile as she lifted the sleeping mask to her face.

  “In layman’s terms, she’s a psychic,” Elena said. “But remote viewing is a little different than just sensing the other side.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Sylvia. “I’d like to think this is safer.”

  “Have you always been able to do this?”

  “Seeing to the other side is something I’d always been able to do,” said Sylvia. “But controlled remote view like this? That took time and practice.”

  “I thought there was no time,” I laughed. “Or whatever it was you said.”

  “You’re learning quickly,” chuckled Sylvia. “Now let’s begin.”

  With the mask over her eyes, she took her notepad and hovered her pen over it fo
r a second. Then, as though her body had been shot with a jolt of electricity, her arm started jerking wildly across the page so a variety of squiggles fell on the paper.

  “Is that it?” I asked, craning my neck to get a better view of the paper. “Is that what you see?”

  “I haven’t even started yet,” said Sylvia. “That was me just getting the excess electricity out of my brain.”

  I glanced over at Elena, feeling a little confused and a little concerned. I didn’t know what was weirder. The sight of Sylvia on the floor blindfolded and humming to herself as she scribbled wildly, or the feeling of having countless cats stare into the back of my head. I could feel their eyes on me, giving me the impression that if I so much as spoke out of turn to their owner, they’d gouge my eyes out.

  Turning to the one on my right, the black one she called Lafayette, I secretly thought, Please don’t kill me with your murder mittens. He blinked slowly in response, as though he could hear my thoughts. Then he lifted a paw and proceeded to clean his toes, all while watching me with those bright green eyes.

  With a shiver, I turned back to Sylvia. She was humming louder now, the pen in her hand making great big circular motions over the page as though she had no control over it. Elena was watching with mild interest, the same way you’d casually watch television. I wondered if anything unsettled her. Because so far, almost everything I’d encountered over the last couple of days had unsettled the shit out of me.

  “Relax,” Sylvia suddenly blurted out. “I’m talking to you, Agent Hawthorne.”

  “I’m perfectly relaxed,” I said, my voice squeaking to betray me. Sylvia laughed softly and carried on scribbling.

  “I can tell you’re very tense,” she said in between hums. “I can almost smell the tension coming off you. And I suppose the cats can smell it too. Just relax. This won’t work unless everyone in the room is on the right vibration.”

  I looked to Elena for some guidance, but she just smiled.

  “Don’t overthink it,” she instructed. “Just chill.”

  But chill was the last thing I could possibly do. Regardless, for the sake of professionalism, I took a deep breath to encourage Sylvia to do her thing.