Wiretaps & Whiskers (The Faerie Files Book 1)

by Emigh Cannaday

  “Run!” he shouted.

  “No! We can’t just leave her!”

  I went flying through the air just long enough to realize he’d thrown me over his shoulder. I squirmed, but his strong arms held my thighs in place. He rushed through the dark house, his shoes crunching on broken glass while the candlelight in the living room dwindled to nothing but a speck at the end of the hall.

  “Hawthorne, you idiot! Put me down! We can’t leave her right in the middle of this!”

  He stumbled down the steps, into the cool night air, leaving the chaos behind us as he finally set me down. We could still hear her screaming, along with the hissing of the cats. The windows rattled and walls of the house trembled from the force that continued to rush out from Sylvia’s body.

  “I’m not going back in there until I know what the fuck we’re dealing with,” Logan said and took out his Glock.

  “Put your gun away before you hurt someone!” I yelled, walking towards him at a steady clip. “What’s your target, huh? You can’t shoot at something that doesn’t have a body!”

  He kept the gun aimed at the ground, but he wasn’t ready to put it away. I suppose I couldn’t blame him, given the chaos going on inside the house.

  “That sound . . . ” he yelled over the noise. “Fuck me, that sound! It isn’t human!”

  I shrugged, stepping a little closer so I didn’t have to shout in his face.

  “I’ve heard worse. Put your gun away. We need to go back inside and find out what she’s seeing.”

  Fear dried the words up in his mouth leaving him breathless and pale.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I don’t want a single part of whatever the hell she’s doing. I don’t even . . . I don’t even know what that could be! It sounded like a battle cry. No. It was more than that. It was—”

  His desperate attempts to explain the noise appeared to soothe him, and he started breathing deeper as the color returned to his cheeks. But I could still make out the sheen of nervous sweat as the moonlight fell on his face.

  “Try not to pressure yourself into explaining it,” I told him, moving. “You’ll drive yourself insane if you try to understand everything.”

  The look of terror returned to his eyes.

  “Whatever we started is evil!”

  The moment the words fell from his mouth, the screaming from inside the house abruptly stopped. An overwhelming stillness lay over the house and the surrounding forest. No bullfrogs, no crickets. Nothing. Even the cats stopped screeching. The only thing I heard was my ringing ears.

  We both turned and looked at the darkened front porch as though Sylvia would appear. I took a step forward, ready to head back in, but as I raised my foot onto the first step, I felt Logan’s hand on my shoulder.

  “Don’t.”

  “What do you mean . . . don’t?” I snapped while shaking him off my shoulder. “You were the one who said she needed medical attention. What if she’s hurt?”

  “There’s evil in that house,” he told me. “That woman . . . ”

  “That woman is our best chance at helping us find those missing kids!”

  He thought for a second with his mouth dropped slightly open. I could see the fear and confusion on his face. He was out of his depth. Holstering his gun, he obviously had no idea what to do next.

  Poor guy.

  I guess my parlor trick with the dandelion hadn’t quite prepared him for the levels of paranormal activity that we saw regularly in the Occult Crimes Division. He was still a total virgin.

  Well . . . maybe not anymore. Not after what had just happened.

  As I looked into his scared, nervous face, I was overcome with the most unexpected feeling; I had the strongest compulsion to nurture him. To care for him and keep him safe. Like a baby bird that had been knocked out of its nest after a storm.

  It was a ludicrous feeling of course. He was a big guy. Strong. Fast. Highly trained. He didn’t need some fae to look out for him, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was exactly what Chief Harris had in mind when he’d thrown us together. Logan needed me as much as I needed him.

  “C’mon, Brad,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s get back in there and finish what we started.”

  He shook his head and clenched his eyes shut as he struggled to process what he had just witnessed.

  “How do I know what we’re working with if I can’t understand it? If I can’t explain it?”

  “You don’t need to fully understand it. Not right now.” He nodded in acknowledgment and straightened himself back up. “There will be plenty of time for you to come to terms with everything you’re seeing. Until then, just observe it. Sit with it.”

  “How?” he said, stopping in his tracks. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Just go around without being scared of a single thing in the world?”

  “I’ve been scared of stuff,” I told him.

  “I don’t believe that. I know you’ve been angry. You’ve been overwhelmed or sad. But afraid? Does your faerie brain even allow for fear?”

  I put my hand on my hip.

  “Does your human brain ever—oh, nevermind.” Realizing how much he needed me for guidance right now, I patted the side of his bicep. It was like comforting a brick wall. “Look, Logan . . . I know that seemed a little fucked up in there, but Sylvia’s our best shot at rescuing these missing kids. And Chief Harris knew what he was doing when he assigned us as partners. I’m gonna go back inside. You can stay out here if you want, but I think you should come with me.”

  Logan nodded at me, then looked up at the house. From where we stood, it was barely visible behind the thick foliage, kudzu, and wildflowers. You could even be forgiven for thinking it wasn’t there at all. From beyond the treeline, an owl hooted.

  I stepped up onto the porch just as a white cat with a gray spot on its chest walked out and meowed softly to welcome us back inside. We walked in silence through the disheveled rooms, where the cats were now lounging in the moonlight, basking in its silver rays. Lafayette sat nearby, twitching his tail either in impatience or general disapproval. I could’ve sworn he shook his head at us.

  “I’ll never get used to all these cats,” said Hawthorne as we reached the front door.

  “Really? I think some of them like you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Nah. I’m fucking with you.”

  We both stood for a second at the doorway and looked down another long, dark hall. From the back of the house, we could hear a gentle clanking noise as though someone was moving pots and pans.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Sylvia, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine!” she called back.

  I shared a surprised look with Logan, but I could see the worry visibly drain from his face.

  We both eagerly stepped into the house and down the hall, following the faint glow of a dozen flickering candles from the last room.

  “In here!” Sylvia called out. “I’m in the kitchen.”

  As we walked down the hall, we could smell the comforting, warm scent of coffee and pastries baking in the oven.

  “Sylvia?” I asked, stepping through the doorway. After leaving her on the floor screaming demonically with her face contorted into an unnatural shape, I wasn’t sure what condition she’d be in when we found her. Would she still have that god-awful black hole where her face had been?

  But what I saw instead was a chipper Sylvia moving around her dimly lit kitchen arranging coffee cups and cutlery.

  “Hey, y’all,” she said with a smile. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  “It’s . . . okay,” Logan managed to say, still shocked at the sudden transformation in her.

  “I’ve put some biscuits in the oven,” she said. “And I’ve made some coffee. Good lord, I need a pick me up right now. I’m sure you both do too.”

  “That’s an understatement,” exhaled Logan. “You wouldn’t have anything s
tronger than coffee, would you?”

  “Sure do. I made it myself,” said Sylvia, reaching into the pantry and handing over a glass jar with a mysterious clear amber colored liquid inside it. The writing on the label was too faded to read.

  “What is it?” asked Logan as he gratefully took it from her hand. “Moonshine?”

  “Apple pie moonshine,” Sylvia said while pulling on an oven mitt. “It’s my secret recipe.”

  Logan raised an eyebrow, although I noticed he wasn’t nearly as skeptical as he would’ve looked a day ago.

  “Is apple pie moonshine even a thing?”

  “Yep. I made this batch on the last full moon. And it’s been blessed.”

  “By who?” I asked, watching Logan struggle with the lid.

  “By me.”

  If Sylvia could see into other dimensions, I didn’t doubt that she could also make her own moonshine and bless it too. She took a tray of biscuits out of the oven and set them on a plate to cool before plunking down a jar of honey next to them. My eyes widened like a cat that had caught sight of a moth.

  While I slathered honey on a biscuit and shoved it into my mouth, I watched as Logan wrestled with the mason jar.

  “You need a little muscle?” I asked him with my mouth full.

  “Nah, I got it.”

  He tried to twist the cap off again, this time with so much effort he blew his cheeks out like a trumpet player.

  “For fuck’s sake, dude. Just gimme it.”

  Relieving him of the jar, I twisted the lid and gave it back to him, not bothering to hide my victorious grin.

  With the booze now flowing, he took his dainty china coffee cup and poured in a liberal splash. We were all immediately assaulted by the smell of it. I couldn’t detect any hint of apples or spices among the alcoholic vapors. It was alcoholic alright, definitely over 100 proof, but there was something else lurking in there . . . something deep and earthy.

  “Are you sure this isn’t gasoline?” winced Logan, screwing up both his mouth and eyes as the vapors stung his face.

  “You be careful with that now,” warned Sylvia. “Same old stuff went and blinded my grand-pappy.”

  “Now you tell me!”

  But it didn’t stop my partner from raising the cup to his lips and taking a long drink. He gagged as soon as it reached his tongue, then shook himself off like a wet dog before going in for round two.

  “You okay?” I asked as he choked the stuff down. He nodded, and I turned to my cup of coffee. It was going to take a lot of sugar and cream to get it to a point where I could drink it. I started adding sweetener by the spoonful.

  “Would you like a drop of something extra?” Sylvia asked me, nodding towards the mason jar.

  Usually, I’d be the first to say yes, but right then, I didn’t think it was the best idea. Especially not when my partner was still recovering from having his mind blown.

  “No thanks. The coffee and biscuits are fine for now.” I reached out for another warm pastry and slathered it in more honey.

  “Suit yourself,” said Sylvia, reaching for the jar. “Agent Hawthorne, can I offer you some more?”

  Logan already looked like he’d had plenty. I could see his eyes had become bleary even though he’d only had two sips.

  “No fank yoooou, Miss Sylvia.”

  “Are you drunk already?” I laughed. My partner gave me the goofiest smile. It was kinda cute. Actually, it was super cute.

  “I might be.” Logan held my gaze for a second, then threw his head back and burst out laughing.

  “Are you sure it’s just apples and spices you put in there?” I asked Sylvia. “And not some kind of psychedelic?”

  Her twinkling eyes snapped wide open, and the grin fell off her face as she hurried back to the pantry. Her groan of frustration was not comforting.

  “Dammit! I think I gave him the wrong stuff,” she said, returning with another mason jar of amber liquid. I unscrewed the lid and was met with another whiff of alcohol, but this time it smelled like apple pie. I cocked my head as I closed the container and stared at our host.

  “If this is the apple pie moonshine, then what did Agent Hawthorne just drink?”

  Sylvia wrung her hands nervously as she gazed at the nearly identical jars.

  “Pretty sure that’s the ol’ mushroom tincture I use for my vision quests.”

  I did a two-handed facepalm and took a deep breath. Then I slid my hands down my face and looked at Logan. Even in the dim light, his pupils were twice as wide as they should’ve been.

  Fuck.

  “Hey, Elena?” he asked, leaning across the table towards me. “Why does it look there are purple beams coming out of your ears?”

  I blinked in disbelief.

  “What?”

  “Beams. Purple ones. They’re like . . . all around your ears.”

  I looked back at Sylvia and briefly had an urge to strangle her. Who the hell kept hallucinogenic mushroom tincture in their liquor cabinet? I sighed, knowing exactly who’d do something like that.

  Sylvia.

  “We’ve just drugged a federal agent,” I said, getting up from my chair. “How am I supposed to take him back to the station like this?”

  “Oh, hush. He’s fine. If anything, it’ll open up his mind.”

  I supposed that was true, but it didn’t change the fact that I was now the only competent adult out here. I stepped up to my partner and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

  “Hey, buddy. I’m going to have to confiscate your gun, okay? Just for a little while, until you feel better.” Good grief—I sounded like I was talking to a puppy or a toddler. “Can you take off your belt for me and hand it over?”

  Still grinning all cute and goofy-like, Logan nodded his head and unfastened his belt. I double-checked that the safety was on, then secured it around my waist. For good measure, I reached into the pocket where he kept the car keys and stole those as well. Taking what was left of his drink and dumping it into the sink, I set the cup in front of him and filled it back up with coffee.

  “He’s been wearing them shackles too long, anyway,” Sylvia declared as Lafayette hopped on the table to join us. I half expected him to ask for a dish of half & half, but instead, he just sat near Logan, watching him carefully.

  “Been carrying around all these rigid beliefs,” Sylvia added. “The kind that makes a person stop believing in the magic of the universe.”

  “Yeah . . . I suppose you’re right about that,” I agreed. That didn’t make my situation any better.

  “This will set him straight. Just you wait and see. I bet he’ll have his own vision quest. He’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a slight headache, but he’ll see things differently from now on. He’ll be a believer.”

  “This is all still really new to him. That noise you made in the living room scared the hell out of him. I didn’t know what to tell him. I’ve never heard anything like it before.”

  Sylvia glanced down at the table as though she was embarrassed.

  “What did you see?” I asked her. “You mentioned a queen. Tell me what you saw her doing.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Of course I do. I’m the one who asked you to go to the other side. Please, you have to tell me what you saw.”

  Her eyes glossed over and she shrank back as if she was trying to disappear inside herself.

  “I can’t. Not right now. I’ll tell you some other time. Just not now.” Her hands began to shake as she stared into the distance.

  “You talked about goblins,” I pressed. “What else did you see?”

  Her hands shook even more as her arms and legs joined in. Soon, her whole body was shaking so much the wooden chair she was sitting in began to wobble.

  “I don’t wanna . . . I can’t tell you because . . . oh I just can’t tell you!”

  “Yes you can!” I said, holding one of her hands to steady her. “You have to!”

  Standing up, she violently pulled herself away fr
om me and ran for the door.

  “Sylvia!”

  I heard her stumble out in the darkness of the hall as a couple dozen cats scattered through the house.

  “Sylvia!” I called out, hurrying after her.

  The only light came from the candles behind me and the kitchen beyond. Ahead of me, there was nothing but darkness and the sound of soft footsteps on the creaky floors upstairs.

  “Elena?” came Logan’s bashful, boyish voice from behind me. “You have such a beautiful energy around you right now.”

  I turned round to see him staring at me in awe.

  “It’s all around you,” he said, raising his hands and pushing them towards me. “It’s beautiful.”

  Fuck my life, I thought. I need to get this idiot home.

  But there was no way I could take him back to Sheriff McKinney’s place. Not in this state. It probably wasn’t safe to stick him up in the treehouse, either. I could just imagine him wanting to commune with nature and fly with the bats and owls, only to fall out the window and bust out his teeth.

  “Agent Hawthorne, I have an important assignment for you,” I said, leading him back to the kitchen. I topped off his coffee and took a quick survey of the room for anything dangerous. I didn’t see any knives, but who was I kidding? It should’ve been condemned years ago. “You sit here and drink your coffee, okay? I’m going to find Sylvia but I need you to stay here.”

  Logan nodded as he looked down into the cup. He smiled as if he was seeing magical visions of pure splendor. Maybe he was.

  “Wow,” he breathed in wonder. “It’s just so beautiful. Every drop is just . . . whoa.”

  “Yeah, every drop is whoa. Just make sure you drink it. If you finish it all you can have some water from the sink.”

  Taking the candle, I left him there gazing wondrously into his glass. Out in the hall, I tiptoed over piles of broken glass and heaps of cats until I reached the stairs. They looked far too weak and rickety to hold the weight of a person. As soon as I put my foot on the bottom step, it creaked and groaned, threatening to collapse.

  “Sylvia? Are you okay?”

  I could hear her sobbing in the distance.

  “Sylvia? Look, you don’t have to tell me what you saw. Not right now anyway. But can you at least tell me you’re okay?”