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

by India Drummond

  Munro nodded. “Thanks. I’ll put the key through the mail slot.” He paused before he climbed in. “Do you know something about these killings I should know?”

  Frankie seemed troubled but covered it quickly. “You know how this city is. Everybody knows everybody.”

  Munro nodded. “Sorry about your friend.” He half expected Frankie to make a clichéd comment urging him to stop whoever was committing the crimes, but he didn’t say a word.

  Chapter 14

  The strange-looking faeries invited Eilidh and Saor inside. Saor seemed less glassy-eyed than he had been, but he still carried a hollow expression. He naturally felt the loss of the Ways of Earth more keenly than she did. For her it was as though she couldn’t smell something others could. For him, she thought, it must feel like total blindness.

  If the outside of the house appeared perfectly human, the inside was anything but. One wall was covered in rock with embedded purple crystals that made the light dance around the room. When one of their hosts saw Eilidh’s interest she said, “It enhances the resonance.” Every piece of furniture was of fae design and hand crafted. The home had a beautiful, flowing elegance that showed the work of an artist. A hand-woven tapestry hung over one wall, blocking out the windows. It depicted a scene from the Halls of Mist that made Eilidh’s heart ache with the distant memory.

  “I am Beniss,” the first woman said. Although her body appeared human, when Eilidh got a close look, she knew Beniss couldn’t be anything but fae. Her hair shone like polished copper, and her eyes had an inner gleam. “And this is Galen.”

  Eilidh introduced herself and Saor, and they both bowed formally to their host.

  Galen gave the slightest bow in response, but said nothing. Instead, she raised an eyebrow to Beniss, who acknowledged it with a nod. Galen left without another word.

  “You must forgive my sister,” Beniss said. “She is distrustful of kingdom fae.” Her gaze settled pointedly on Saor and she remarked, “You still have the scent of the Otherworld on you.” With a glance at Eilidh she said, “But you…you have been away from the kingdom for some time.” She laughed suddenly. “I have forgotten my manners. It has been so long since an outsider has come here that I hardly remember how to behave. Would you like some honeyed froth?”

  They accepted with gratitude. The long journey had tired them both. Beniss left them in the living area where they sat on the low, inclined seats their people favoured. Eilidh felt more comfortable than she had in a long time. She only wished Saor felt at ease.

  When Beniss returned, Eilidh asked, “Why have you severed the earth flows?”

  Beniss smiled sadly and gave them each a cup of a warm, sweet beverage. “You must think us rude, but over the centuries we have learned to be cautious. Of course, I would alleviate his discomfort if I could, but the enchantment is one that covers a wide area, lasts a very long time, and is difficult to produce. If Saor does not wish to stay, Galen would gladly escort him off the island.”

  Eilidh found it interesting that Beniss only addressed herself to Eilidh, never directly to Saor. Eilidh turned a questioning glance to Saor.

  “No,” Saor said, also speaking only to Eilidh. “I won’t leave you.” His voice was strained and tired.

  Beniss nodded at his decision and then said, “I would ask what brings you to Skye, but I can guess. You obviously are weak in the Ways of Earth, or you would feel as disoriented as your friend. Since no faerie would voluntarily stay away from the Otherworld as long as you obviously have, I have to assume you are…an exile?”

  Eilidh tilted her head. She found Beniss so strange. She appeared to be a human teenager, with her freckles and round ears, spoke like a fae elder, but felt like neither. “I’ll start at the beginning, if that’s all right?” Eilidh said.

  “Please.” Beniss crossed her legs in her chair, gesturing for Eilidh to continue. “We still keep to the night.”

  Eilidh began slowly, finding it painful to recount her childhood fumbling with the Ways of Earth and how awkward she’d felt. Beniss waited with immaculate patience for Eilidh to continue. When it came time for Eilidh to reveal how she had discovered the illusion spells and the mindspeaking talents, she picked up the pace. She let loose the anger and frustration she’d experienced when her father tried to keep her from casting in certain ways, always returning her to the Ways of Earth, making her repeat uncooperative incantations over and over.

  If he thought he could drive her affinity with the Path of the Azure away by sheer stubborn will, Eilidh proved him wrong. She tried to be dutiful, accepting his explanation that certain spells and talents were forbidden, but small things kept popping up. She had an exceptional memory and could recount an event with the exact inflection of every speaker. Once, she found she could change someone’s mind with a suggestion. It was a small thing. An instructor gave her an afternoon off when he intended to keep her working long into the night.

  Her father, unfortunately, soon learned what she’d done. He punished her severely, but did not make her go back to the instructor. Imire told her she must never, ever influence another faerie’s mind again. He wove a story of the horrible consequences of robbing others of their free will. It made a lasting impression on her, and she never tried again, not even when her freedom was at stake.

  Saor turned his face away when she talked about her isolation, the death sentence, and finally her father’s plan for her escape.

  Beniss watched them both carefully. When Eilidh went silent she said, “And since leaving the kingdom? Have you discovered more of your talents?”

  Eilidh shook her head. “I do not cast the azure,” she said.

  Beniss narrowed her eyes in disapproval. “An entire youth wasted. Well, we can only work with what we have.” She looked from Eilidh to Saor and back. “You are tired. You’ve come a long way. I think you should rest now. The night is only half over, but I suspect you will sleep through the day. But tomorrow night is soon enough to sort out where you will live and when your training will begin.” With a nod to Saor she added, “I’m not sure how the others will feel about him staying amongst us, but we can talk about that tomorrow.”

  Eilidh stopped her. “You misunderstand. It’s not for myself that I am here.”

  Beniss raised a slim auburn eyebrow. “No?”

  “There is another who can cast the Path of the Azure. I do not know him, but he brings death with him. He has murdered at least two already.” Eilidh pushed through her weariness and told Beniss about the faerie who killed with blood shadows, how the kingdom conclave refused to help.

  They sat in silence for a time after Eilidh finished her story. Beniss frowned and appeared to weigh Eilidh’s words carefully. Finally, Beniss said, “I will speak to the High Conclave. You must go rest now. I insist. You look as though you would fall over.” When Eilidh began to protest Beniss said, “I promise I will speak well for you. I do not know what, if anything, we can do, but your news troubles me.”

  Eilidh’s heart sank. Another conclave that likely would do nothing. Had she wasted days on this journey for naught? She was too tired to protest. “Thank you, Beniss. You are kind to accept two strangers into your home.”

  Beniss smiled. “I hope you will be comfortable.” She stood and showed Eilidh and Saor to a room in the back of the cottage. It contained a wide swing bed suspended from a wooden frame. Even the blankets were hand-woven.

  It made Eilidh homesick all over again. “Thank you,” she said.

  “You are welcome here,” Beniss replied and left them alone to sleep.

  ***

  The village of Comrie fell under Tayside Police’s Western Division. Minor crimes there would usually be handled by beat officers out of the Crieff station. However, the link to the Perth murders meant the Dewer task force got the call. In his role as POLSA, police search advisor, Sergeant Hallward called specialist searchers to the scene. Munro was grateful he’d taken on the extra training required to become part of that group. Otherwise, he neve
r would have gotten near the scene, and once again, all his information would have come second-hand.

  Although it was after 9:00 p.m. when Munro arrived, the hazy summer light meant they would search the area that night. He passed the village, drove on to a place called the Twenty Shilling Woods, and stopped when he saw the line of police cars.

  He and another thirty officers were organised in a grid over the uneven ground surrounding a mound in the middle of a field. On the top of the mound were four standing stones. In the centre of the stones, CID had erected a crime scene tent to protect the body from the elements. The body had been removed, of course, before the searchers could assemble for their part of the process, but Munro didn’t need to see the corpse to learn what had happened.

  Munro was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness. He had information about the crime. Although he didn’t know the killer’s name and address, he knew who it was. Now he understood that his cousin Frankie and the other druids had information about the crimes. He knew he should tell Sergeant Hallward, but what evidence did he have that the druids were involved? None. All Munro had was suspicion, based on the fact that they knew the second victim and that Craig Laughlin had been a druid. A lot of people had probably known the guy. As Frankie said, everybody knew everybody in a place like Perth.

  “Waiting for an engraved invitation, PC Munro?” Hallward’s voice boomed through the eerie summer night.

  “No, Sarge.” Munro took his place at the edge of the search grid and began the long, tedious process of combing through every blade of grass in the field.

  The search was pointless. This whole sham of procedure rankled him, but he needed to find out what he could about the crime so he could tell Eilidh.

  Eilidh. He wondered where she was and if he’d ever see her again. He no longer felt the connection to her, and he couldn’t even feel the faint flicker of her presence. She’d said she was going to get help, and he had believed her. On the other hand, she’d also said she couldn’t face the blood faerie alone. If she couldn’t, he doubted his help was going to push her over the top of the power scale. He also didn’t dare hope she was coming back with the cavalry. What if she hadn’t even made it? It was a few hundred miles to Skye and back, and Eilidh and Saor were going to bloody run there.

  Munro shook his head and kept up the appearance of a careful search, all the while trying to convince himself that he wanted Eilidh back to stop the killings and not for personal, selfish reasons. Not because he wanted to sit and talk with her for hours, to find out every little thing about her. Not because he wanted nothing more than to show her every human invention, to teach her about his world and learn about hers. Not because she was mesmerizingly beautiful.

  By midnight, it was getting dark, so Hallward called off the search. The sun would make its reappearance around four the next morning, and Hallward wanted everyone back by five. As Munro walked across the already-searched field toward his car, he saw the faintest of glows. If he hadn’t been right on top of it, he never would have seen it. He walked over casually and crouched down to brush the grass aside. Nestled in the dirt, a flat, circular stone about the size of Munro’s palm lay half buried.

  It didn’t look like anything special, so Munro wasn’t surprised the searcher who’d covered this area hadn’t given it a second glance. Munro tugged the stone out of the loose ground, and flipped it over in his hand. One side was perfectly smooth, but the other bore intricate carvings with swirls and runes. An image of a burning sun covered the centre. It flashed briefly in his hand, and Munro nearly dropped the disk in surprise.

  “Munro, what the hell are you doing? If you find something, you aren’t supposed to touch it.” Hallward strode across the grass toward Munro.

  Munro stood and turned the rock to show the flat side. “It’s nothing, Sarge. Just a rock.” He shrugged and tried to look sheepish, holding the stone up for Hallward to see.

  The sergeant seemed mollified, but he continued to walk toward Munro and examined the rock up close. Fortunately, he didn’t take it or turn it over.

  “Same as the others?” Munro said, gesturing toward the low mound where the body had been discovered.

  “Seems like it.”

  Something in his tone made Munro ask, “What’s different?”

  “Two victims.”

  “Two?” Munro didn’t know what to think about that.

  “Definitely our killer. One heart missing, one heart removed but destroyed. They’ve been out here a while, at least a week before Dewer. The second body had his throat cut.” Hallward nodded toward the white tent. “Doc says he must have had some kind of genetic disorder. Or maybe extensive plastic surgery. We’ll know more after the autopsy.” He paused for a moment, then added, “You’d better get going, Munro. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Get some sleep while you can. This bastard isn’t going anywhere.”

  Munro’s chest tightened. Genetic disorder or plastic surgery? Something had looked odd about the body then. Munro knew in his gut the second victim was fae. Hurry, Eilidh.

  Chapter 15

  When Eilidh awoke late the next day, she found herself tangled in Saor’s arms, rocking softly in the suspended fae bed. He lay beside her, watching her. It felt so comfortable and familiar that Eilidh was tempted to stay there for hours. She smiled and stretched, extricating herself from his embrace. She had enjoyed the moment, but soon reality came crashing back. This wasn’t the old days, she wasn’t a kingdom fae, and Saor was no longer hers.

  “I’ve missed you,” Saor said and paused. “I know you’re angry with me because I didn’t visit you.”

  Eilidh squeezed his hand. “I’m not angry. I was confused for a time, but it soon became clear to me that you did the right thing. If you’d followed your heart and come to me, no good would come of it.”

  “None?”

  Part of Eilidh would have liked to condemn him for the choices he’d made decades ago, but it wouldn’t be fair. Although he hadn’t done what she would have, he’d made the right choice. Being tainted with her crimes would have done neither of them any good.

  “Have you thought about what we discussed before?”

  Of course she had. She found it difficult to think about much else. But last night, as Eilidh told their host about the blood faerie, the real dangers to so many people became clear in her mind. She realised that no matter what she may want for herself, she was unwilling to abandon the cause she and Munro had set out to tackle together. While most kingdom fae might not care about a few human deaths, she could no longer pretend they didn’t matter.

  Rather than answer the question, Eilidh changed the subject. “You seem to be feeling better. Can you feel the source?”

  “No. It feels as though colour has gone out of the world. But I think the night’s rest has done me good.” Saor reached for Eilidh, but she stirred and began to straighten her clothes.

  “Eilidh, you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Saor—”

  “I don’t blame you. You were born this way. I understand that. Especially after hearing you speak last night. I never appreciated the things you went through. I thought I knew you well, but perhaps that was my mistake. I didn’t understand how much you were holding back, hoping to protect me.” Saor watched Eilidh, his golden eyes swirling with emotion.

  “Saor, I don’t think there’s any going back for me.”

  “You would give up without even trying?”

  “First we should hear what Beniss has to say. I don’t hold out much hope. It sounds like this so-called higher conclave could be a lot like the kingdom conclave. After all, fae is fae. It was foolish of me to think they would behave differently. It must be in the blood.” Eilidh smiled sadly.

  Saor began to respond, but stopped when they heard footfalls coming toward their room. Beniss appeared, looking weary, as though while Eilidh and Saor slept, she found no rest at all. “Come,” she said. “The conclave wishes to meet you.”

  “Beniss,�
� Eilidh began. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you look human?”

  “Can’t you guess?” Beniss’ green eyes sparkled with amusement.

  It was Saor who answered. “Illusion.” He seemed distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Yes. And I will admit, it appeals to my sense of humour.” She shrugged. “We protect our little community. We live close to the human settlements, and it’s much easier to blend in if we can pass for them.” Beniss led them into the kitchen where she served a simple meal of fruit, bread, and honey. She seemed distracted and impatient, but she didn’t offer further comment.

  “How many of you live here?” Saor asked after a few moments of silence. “We were told three, but if there are enough of you to form a conclave, I would suppose we have been misinformed.”

  Beniss smiled. “That was true, at one time. Over the years, two more joined us. And we have been blessed.”