Blood Faerie - Contemporary Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae, Book 1)

by India Drummond

  “It matters,” she said.

  Eilidh suddenly whipped her head around as though she’d heard something. Her eyes widened with shock, and she crouched, ready to leap. “Where are you?” she shouted into the darkness.

  “What is it?” Munro asked. “What’s happening?”

  “Run!” she cried out. “Go away from here.”

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

  She spun. “No!” she shouted, turning to Munro, her face going alabaster white. She looked like she was about to speak, but then she collapsed.

  Munro kept alert and watched the trees as he knelt and touched Eilidh’s neck. Her pulse was strong, faster than he would have expected, but she was alive. Standing and turning slowly, Munro listened. He couldn’t hear a sound from the trees, not so much as the peep of a mouse or a rustle of wind.

  He glanced down and saw Eilidh move. She groaned and her eyelids fluttered, but she did not speak.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Cursing that he had no phone and no car, he slipped his arm underneath hers. A few blocks to the north, he would find a pub with a telephone. He could call a taxi from there.

  Although she had a slight build, Eilidh was solid and heavier than she first appeared. Rather than throw her over his shoulder, he tried to carry her as though propping up a drunken friend. People would accept the latter without question, but a burly guy carrying a woman fireman-style? That might draw second looks. When a taxi finally picked them up, the driver seemed concerned that he’d have to clean up after a couple of drunks. Munro stuck a twenty in the driver’s hand up front, so at least he wouldn’t worry about them skipping out on the fare.

  The night was nearly gone by the time they made it into Munro’s house. Eilidh still had not regained consciousness. She groaned and muttered, but seemed stuck in a nightmare from which she couldn’t wake.

  He carried her inside and laid her on his bed, removing her strange leather shoes. He took off his own shoes and shirt and stretched his aching back. It had been a long, tiresome night. He worried about Eilidh, about the case, and about the undiscovered body over at the Grammar.

  Exhaustion overtook him. He thought about bunking on the sofa, but wanted to be close in case Eilidh woke up. The last thing he needed was to discover she’d climbed out the window again. He still didn’t know why she’d done that, and they hadn’t spoken of it. When they saw each other at the school, the awkwardness disappeared in the face of other important matters. Now that they were alone and the urgency had passed, he feared the strained feeling would return the second she woke up.

  He watched her in the moonlight, her small mouth slightly open and her long white lashes fluttering. He wished he could reach into her nightmare and make it stop. All he could do was hold her hand and whisper goodnight, hoping she would wake in the morning.

  Chapter 10

  A loud ringing caused Eilidh to wake with a start. It took her a moment to recognise Munro’s bedroom. She lay on his bed, fully dressed and alone, although the rumpled linens told her he must have lain next to her.

  She heard voices down the hall. Slipping on her shoes, she stepped into the corridor and crept closer to the source of the sounds. She saw Munro’s visitor through the glass-paned interior door that led into the living room, but unfortunately, it kept her from catching every word, even with her excellent hearing.

  A man wearing a police uniform sat in one of the large padded seats humans seemed to prefer in their homes. Eilidh could detect the scent of fried food, sweat, and cigarettes lingering near the entryway. The visitor’s voice was low, nearly a whisper, and he seemed serious and tense. Eilidh could not see Munro’s face, because he sat with his back to her, but she noticed how they leaned forward when they talked.

  They spoke about the previous night’s death, and it frustrated her that she couldn’t make out more. She didn’t know how humans could stand to live in these box-houses, where they couldn’t feel the sun and rain or hear the wind.

  Just as she was calculating whether she would be able to hear better from the kitchen, Munro’s guest stood. When he did, their eyes met. Eilidh panicked and took a step back. How could she be so stupid and slow as to let someone see her here? But if she ran, would that look worse?

  The guest gestured toward her and said something to Munro, who stood. She didn’t know what to do, so she waited.

  Munro gave her an encouraging smile and beckoned her closer. He opened the door and stepped toward her. Leaning close, he whispered, “Cover your ears.”

  In a well-practiced movement, Eilidh pulled up the hood of her light jacket. If the other man thought it odd, he didn’t say anything, although he did seem surprised to find he wasn’t the only guest in Munro’s house.

  “This is my friend Eilidh,” Munro said to the other man. “Eilidh, this is my partner, Andrew Getty.”

  Getty kept glancing back and forth between Eilidh and Munro, a smile creeping over his face. He extended his hand to Eilidh. “Haley,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

  Munro corrected him. “Ay-lee, without an H.”

  Eilidh hesitated, unsure what to do with his outstretched hand. She awkwardly slipped her hand into his for a moment, and felt his strength as he squeezed her fingers and gave her hand a firm downward shake.

  “Sorry,” Getty said. “Eilidh. Pretty name. Is it French?”

  Eilidh couldn’t help but smile. “No,” she said.

  After a slight pause, Getty looked at Eilidh then back at Munro with a knowing grin. “I thought you were supposed to be off sick.”

  Munro laughed. “Believe me, I’ll be back as soon as they’ll let me. I went to see the doctor this morning. He didn’t like it, but I got him to approve me going back tomorrow. He said I needed more rest because he didn’t like the unexplained seizure, but the labs didn’t show anything, so I was able to convince him to sign off.”

  “As long as you aren’t enjoying yourself too much,” Getty said.

  “You went out this morning?” Eilidh asked and glanced toward the window. It was too overcast for her to tell the time.

  “I let you sleep,” he said.

  Then Eilidh realised what Getty had been getting at. “Quinton,” she said. “You did not tell me you had a seizure.” She turned to look into his eyes.

  He took her hand and enveloped it in his own. “I’m fine. Promise. It’s just something I had to take care of so I can go back to work.” He kissed her cheek.

  She nodded, but didn’t believe that was the end of the story. She had seen how disoriented he was when she first saw him in the woods. But she didn’t press him, because she wasn’t sure how much he would want Getty to know. The kiss surprised her as well, but perhaps that too was for Getty’s benefit. From the grins he was giving Munro, Getty obviously thought Eilidh was his lover. For whatever reason, Munro allowed him to nurture the belief. Uncertain of the dynamic between the two men, she decided to let it go. Munro would have his reasons.

  Munro thanked Getty for dropping by, an expression Eilidh found both curious and amusing, and for returning his phone and car. As soon as the other man was out the door, Munro let go of Eilidh’s hand. “Sorry about that,” he said. “How are you feeling?” A frown creased his tanned forehead. “You had me worried last night. I wouldn’t have left you this morning if I hadn’t had to go to see the doctor. If I’d missed the appointment, I’d have been dead meat.”

  Eilidh brushed aside his concern. “I’m fine.” The last thing she wanted to talk about was what happened to her last night, hearing that voice in her head, feeling wave after wave of the blood shadows until they overwhelmed her and she lost consciousness. The blood faerie had led her into a trap, knowing she would follow. He was angry with her, and his rage and confusion frightened her. She didn’t want to admit to Munro that perhaps he had been right. Perhaps this faerie was insane. The thought ran contrary to everything she believed about her race, but his ravings m
ade little sense. Munro wouldn’t understand either, and she needed to talk to someone who would, but she would have to wait for that. She changed the subject. “Did Andrew Getty bring word of the murder?”

  Munro nodded. “A group of teenagers were cutting through the field around nine this morning. They found the body and called 999.”

  Every time Munro spoke, Eilidh realised how much of human culture was alien to her. She didn’t understand many of the expressions he used, but at least she picked up the gist of it. She also noticed that he minded that those who found the body were teens. At that age, a faerie would be considered little more than an infant, in human terms, and wouldn’t leave their parents’ care. Humans aged faster, and their teenaged offspring were permitted to act nearly as freely as adults.

  “So now they know a killer stalks your people.” Eilidh had hoped to find a way to stop the murders before the human police became aware of that. The greater the crimes, the more police would be involved, and the harder her job would be. With their usual minimal influence and her own speed and power, she managed to avoid the police, at least before her first encounter with Munro. But if they started watching vigorously, she would have to be more careful. That would cost her time.

  “Did you know this murder was different?” Munro asked.

  “Different how?” Eilidh had not gotten close to the body. She’d focused on catching the blood faerie and hadn’t thought much about the victim.

  “The heart wasn’t taken.”

  “No? Did he take something else?” Taking the heart of the first victim seemed to be part of a ritual, so this second killing must have served some purpose. Unless he had truly gone insane.

  “No, but he tried. He succeeded in a way. The chest was opened as in the first murder, and the heart removed. The SOCOs found the heart a few yards away from the body.”

  “He left it behind?” Eilidh frowned.

  “In pieces. The closest they could figure, it exploded or burst from the inside. They’re hoping the autopsy will tell them more, but we both know that’s unlikely.”

  Munro watched her closely. She realised he must wonder whether she knew more than she had told him. They stood, looking at each other for a long moment. Finally, Munro said, “We have to stop this guy. I can tell you’re holding back from me, but I don’t get why. Is it because of the kiss? I’m not going to push you. I’m a big boy. I can take it. And this case is more important than working out my feelings.” He smiled when he said it, but Eilidh could see a residual hurt in his eyes.

  It stunned her. She’d convinced herself that he’d only been doing what he thought she wanted. But now he was confessing that he felt something for her? “Munro,” she said. “I am fae.”

  Annoyance flitted over his features. “You keep bloody saying that as though I’d forget it. You think I can be around you without seeing how different you are?” Munro looked away for a moment and then turned his blue eyes back to her. “I didn’t mean to say all that,” he said quietly. “I just want you to know you can trust me. It doesn’t have to be awkward between us.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she explained. “I know you want to stop this killing as much as I do, even though we have somewhat different reasons. I do not know if we will be successful. I have never encountered someone such as the faerie who is killing with blood shadows. It would have frightened me even if I had every kingdom Watcher at my back. But instead I have to face it alone.”

  “That’s my point. You aren’t alone. I’m right here.”

  “You are—”

  “Not fae? Yeah, I get that. I’m different, but I’m here, I’m willing, and I’m not afraid. I might be different, but I’m not less.” His anger had risen, and she saw the intensity of his feeling shine brightly in his eyes.

  “No,” she agreed. “Not less.” She wanted to explain the things he couldn’t possibly appreciate about the dangers they faced. It could cost them their lives and that of many more humans. “It will take some time for me to become accustomed to this new way. I’ve avoided your people for decades. I don’t think you less.” She meant that too, possibly for the first time. The more she talked with Quinton, the more she questioned everything she had been taught about humans. She couldn’t let go of her reservations, but for now, it felt nice not to be alone. She wondered if there was something more as she peered into his eyes.

  His face softened as she spoke, and she was relieved to see the anger drain out of him. “Oh,” he said. “I almost forgot. I got you something while I was out.” He went to the living room and retrieved a plastic bag. When he returned, he said, “I nearly picked one with flowers, but decided it wouldn’t suit you. You look good in black.” He pulled something knitted out of the bag, tore off a plastic tag, and handed it to her.

  “What is it?” she said, turning the object over in her hands. It was shaped like a cloth bowl.

  Munro grinned. “Here.” He took it and stretched the fabric, then nestled it over her head. “It’s called a watch cap and will save you from messing with that silly hood all the time.” He adjusted it snugly on her head, then gently reached over and made sure her ears were fully tucked in on both sides.

  Eilidh shivered. He must not have known what an intimate gesture caressing ears was to her people. His face betrayed no sexual intent, but she couldn’t help but respond to the touch.

  “Are you cold?” he asked. “I can turn on the heat.”

  “No,” she said, feeling the edges of the hat. The fact that he’d bought her a gift touched her, even if it was practical. She couldn’t recall the last gift she’d received. It struck her as strange that something nice was happening just as something horrible overshadowed her life. “I need to go. I’m meeting someone tonight. Someone who may be able to offer advice that will help me.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Eilidh smiled at Munro, and he smiled back. Maybe she could have a friend. She couldn’t let herself think of anything more, no matter what her heart wanted.

  “No, I’m sorry. I wish you could join me, but I need to move quickly and silently, and the faerie I’m meeting will not appear if he senses a human nearby. Our people are taught not to mix with humans. It is very deeply ingrained.”

  “So I noticed,” he said and smiled again, although he appeared disappointed at her refusal.

  She didn’t quite know how to say goodbye. Humans shook hands or kissed, but she didn’t feel comfortable with either. Among the fae, excessive touching was not done, even between friends. But Munro saved her from having to think on it further by simply opening the door. “Tell me how it goes then?”

  She nodded and stepped outside and down the path. “I will.”

  He waved and shut the door.

  She could not help but sigh with relief. She enjoyed his company, but she found houses overwhelming. All the trapped scents bothered her, and she felt walled off from the earth. She hadn’t needed to leave quite yet. She had plenty of time before she met her father at the folly. But she needed to eat and didn’t want to turn down Munro’s inevitable offer of strange-smelling human food. And she knew Munro wasn’t ready to watch her hunt. She loped through the city, going unnoticed out of habit. When she crossed the River Tay and headed toward the hills, her mouth started to water as she thought of the fresh rabbit she would have for dinner.

  ***

  The appointed hour was the darkest of the night. Imire had chosen the time when the kingdom borders were largest, so the shifting boundaries would move closer to the city and encompass the folly. Imire would not have to endure the discomfort of leaving the kingdom, and Eilidh would have an easy means of escape to the city, should things go wrong.

  She sat cross-legged on the ancient stone table in front of the folly, a scant few feet from the edge of the cliff. The city sprawled below her. The ribbon-like River Tay ran alongside its northern curve. Lights from houses and tiny cars inched along the highway at the bottom of the sheer drop.

 
She had eaten, bathed in the river, and tried to prepare herself to see her father. But instead of anticipating their reunion, all she could think about was the fifty thousand humans who called Perth home. She was their only chance against a dark faerie, and she felt woefully ill-equipped. How could she fight something she didn’t understand? She didn’t even understand her own talent for the Path of the Azure. How could she come to grips with an ability so much darker and well-practiced than her own? The determination was there, but she didn’t know where to start.

  She felt Imire approach long before she heard or saw him. He unmasked his magic and let his presence flow gently ahead. She’d prepared what she would say and how she would behave. The meeting would be as difficult for him as for her. To make things easier, she would tell him she was well and happy and make him believe it at all costs. She would lay out her fears of the dark faerie methodically. He would have to see the dangers and at least try to convince the conclave to change their minds and act.