Somewhere among the scattered bodies Lily was back in skin and enjoying herself. Michael was in there too. Ceri had shifted back and was sitting beside the fire, taking a break from her constant stream of admirers, when Rhys appeared beside her. He shifted as he sat down, from a very impressive, black-furred wolf-man to a still fairly impressive man.
‘Your demon is leaving a trail of exhausted wolves in her wake,’ he said, grinning as he did so.
‘Sounds like Lily. She has the advantage of keeping her strength up while expending energy on sex.’ She glanced at him. ‘I wanted to talk to you anyway. About coming to London.’
‘I thought you might. When were you thinking?’
‘This summer. July, maybe early August.’
He gave a nod. ‘I can make arrangements. Get word to me when you’ve fixed a date. I’ll see about getting Hywel down from the north. You should think about contacting the Scottish packs.’
‘I wouldn’t know how.’
‘Ask Alexandra. Maybe Luperca can have a word in a few ears.’
Ceri chuckled. ‘I’ll need to talk to her about it anyway…’ Her gaze caught the slim, tightly muscled shape of Heather’s wolf-form on all fours in the grass. ‘Heather’s kind of quiet, but she seems to get into it fairly quickly.’
‘I’ve no complaints about our physical relationship, in either shape,’ Rhys replied, smirking.
Ceri turned, lifting her leg over his to straddle his hips. ‘Well if you don’t mind doing it in man-shape…’
He let out a low growl as she ground against him. A human might have had qualms about sex with his brother’s wife, but Rhys was werewolf to the core. ‘I find it a refreshing change,’ he whispered.
Battersea, London.
Lorna sat silently in the north clearing, watching the far side of the lake. John had insisted that she stay with the pack until he came to collect her. At first she had been annoyed; she had gone to all this trouble to persuade him that she was not a helpless waif and now he was treating her just as he had. What did he think he could stop that she could not? Except that she could tell that was not the problem. Her husband was worried, very worried. He would not tell her what he was worried about, but she knew it was the case he was working on.
So she waited, and watched for him, nervous and too restless to sit among the wolves in Alexandra’s clearing. And then something moved out of the darkness on the opposite bank.
Lorna started to move and then came to a halt as she realised that the figure she was seeing was not human. A woman, shorter than she was, but still moderately tall, her head surrounded by a cloud of blonde hair. She looked, as best Lorna could tell, like quite the beauty, but she was dead, and very old. The sense of age and power was almost palpable as she reached out an arm toward Lorna.
And then there were a dozen wolves around the younger vampire, growling and snarling at the figure across the water. Alexandra appeared beside Lorna, putting one hand on her shoulder. The blonde vampire turned and the shadows seemed to wrap around her like a shroud. Lorna felt her spine relax, unaware that she had tensed.
‘I’ve only seen her twice before,’ Alexandra said, ‘and that was in the wake of the Shattering. She keeps to herself usually, working from the shadows, out of the light.’
‘Who…?’ Lorna breathed.
‘It seems your husband was right to ask that you stay here tonight, child. Hildegard Braun is not someone a vampire wants taking an interest in her.’
Kennington.
Twill flitted back and forth in front of the doors in the hall as Gwyn took her time coming down from the study. Well, to Twill it felt like she was taking her time, but fairies tended to think faster than larger people, and it might have been worry. There were four wolves, a vampire, a man, and a witch on the grounds, and that could not be good. Ishifa hovered at the foot of the stairs, watching her not-mistress pacing in the air.
‘Detectives,’ Gwyn said when she had opened the outer door, ‘and Anita… I am assuming this is not a social visit?’ She stepped back and Twill watched as John and Kate trooped in, followed by Lorna, with Anita bringing up the rear and shifting to human as she stepped over the threshold.
‘I have a favour to ask,’ John said. ‘We need somewhere safe for Lorna to stay for a few days.’
‘Of course,’ Gwyn replied without a second’s thought, ‘but…’
John frowned. ‘Hildegard Braun…’
Red light flickered around Twill before he could say anything else. ‘Come Ishifa, we’ll make up some beds in the dungeon.’
‘Thank you, Twill,’ Lorna called out to the rapidly retreating fairy.
‘Braun,’ Gwyn mused. ‘Could she have been the one who had Lorna possessed?’
‘From what I know of her,’ Mei said, her soft voice making everyone jump, ‘it would not have been her.’ She had arrived on the small landing above the last flight of stairs without anyone noticing. ‘Unlike many older vampires, she does not practise necromancy, or any other form of magic. When she made herself known to Ceridwyn, I conducted an investigation of her under orders from Huanglong. He did not wish her influence affecting his tool. My information is far from complete, but it seems she has never had cause to use any powers other than her vampiric ones.’
‘That just confirms it then,’ John stated, his frown growing deeper. ‘We have two, very powerful, vampires on a rampage. Ceri picked a damn inconvenient time to be on holiday.’
Below Llyn Cau, Wales.
Michael was walking like a man who had somehow been mesmerised into following wherever he was led. Ceri was amused; it was terribly cute in a man who would be turning twenty-one in the morning. His eyes never strayed far from Lily’s behind even though the day was bright and warm, the sky clear, and the landscape quite beautiful.
Lily had decided that appropriate attire for a march up the side of a mountain was a T-shirt which draped over her large breasts, swaying as she walked, and her shortest pair of shorts. In truth, Ceri could feel contented, sun-warmed, half-succubus across their link; Lily had partially gone for semi-naked so that she could get sun on her skin. It had also been, according to her, to keep Michael entertained. If he got any more entertained his tongue would be hanging out.
Ceri was leading, in jeans and her MIT T-shirt. It was racer-backed and she felt that was enough flesh for this time of year in Wales. They had got to the lake at the bottom of the valley, Llyn Mwyngil, at midday, had lunch in Tal-y-llyn, and decided to walk up the side of Cader. People called it Cader, though correctly it was Cadair Idris, the seat or stronghold of Idris. There were false associations with King Arthur, legends about giants who sat up there watching the stars, and more prosaic tales of a mundane king who had fought the Irish. It was said that if you spent a night alone on the slopes of the mountain you would come down a poet or a madman, but they had no plans to stay that long.
‘Your skin’s changing again,’ Lily commented as they walked.
Ceri groaned. ‘What now? Am I growing wings or turning purple?’
‘Actually, it’s looking more normal. I think you’re even getting some colour in it.’
‘No chance,’ Ceri scoffed.
‘She’s right,’ Michael said, his eyes never rising above Lily’s waist. ‘It’s a little smoother than it was, but it’s not as pale. I may be male, but I notice these things.’
‘It took you a week to notice I’d cut my hair,’ Ceri pointed out.
‘No, it took me a week to say I’d noticed. Also, you cut it and then I didn’t see you in human form until five days later.’
‘Huh.’ Of course he was right. ‘You are better about noticing things like that than most men.’
‘That’s because I’m a wolf. We’re just naturally better than most men.’
‘Not arguing,’ Ceri replied, grinning. She stopped as they turned a corner in the track and the bowl of Llyn Cau appeared to their right, and she felt… something.
Michael’s head lifted and he sniffed, moving up
to stand beside Lily. ‘Fae,’ he said softly.
Male laughter echoed from the walls of the rocky bowl and the sky grew darker. As they watched, the water of the lake grew still and then ice began to form, spreading from the far bank as a tall figure seemed to step out of nothing and begin walking toward them. Ceri was using her staff as a walking stick and she shifted her grip on it. The inlay around its upper third began to glow more brightly.
The man stopped, perhaps ten yards from them. His face was still clothed in shadow, but they could see a broad grin full of bright teeth and eyes that shone a bright blue. Black hair shrouded his head like a cowl and his body suggested that he knew how to use the long sword slung at his left hip.
‘Stay your hand, sorceress,’ he said, his voice deep and full of humour. ‘I am Gwyn ap Nudd, but I mean you no harm. I pass on the regards of Oberon and Titania. They also pass on good wishes to your young warrior for his birthday tomorrow.’
Ceri executed a short bow. ‘Gwyn ap Nudd, King of Annwn, Lord of the Wild Hunt. I hope we’re not disturbing you.’
The fae bowed his head in return. ‘Lady Ayasha, Overlord of All Demons. You bother me less than the tourists.’
‘Huh. Well, thank you for coming to see us personally.’
He waved the comment away. ‘I try to stay on the good side of those with power. You’re going to Bala after this little side trip?’ It sounded more of a statement than a question.
‘That’s right.’
‘Be sure to pay your respects to the Lady. Enjoy your walk.’ He turned and started back across the frozen lake.
‘I… will do that,’ Ceri told him, but he was already vanishing back to wherever he had come from. Colour returned to the sky and the ice was gone as though it had never been there.
‘That was… weird,’ Michael commented. ‘I mean, the way it went dark and the ice…’
‘Yeah, well… what do you expect the Fae Underworld to be like?’ Ceri replied before heading off down the track again.
Westminster, London.
‘It was definitely her?’ Barry was scowling, but his irritation was at the situation rather than his detectives.
‘Alexandra recognised her,’ John stated.
‘Damn it,’ Barry growled. ‘If it comes to it and we have to take her down…’
‘The vampire underground will gain power,’ Kate said. ‘It’ll be like Raynor, but less organised.’
‘We have no idea who this other vamp is?’
Kate frowned. ‘Well…’
Both men looked at her and she shrank a little in her seat. ‘If you know something, Kate…’ John said.
‘Before Ceri went to rescue Lily she came to see me. Braun told her something and she wasn’t sure what to do with it, but she didn’t want to go off and die without telling someone…’
‘So she told you? It was related to the Greycoats?’
‘To… one Greycoat in particular. It might not be him. It just seems like… I mean, it seems a bit weird that Braun should say something and then someone tries to use Lorna to kill John. Again.’
John’s eyes widened. ‘Chen. His name was Simon Chen.’
‘Apparently he’s really called Lo Chan. Braun said he’d come south, but he wasn’t actually in London. Maybe she told Ceri because she hoped someone would take him out before he came into her territory.’
There was an angry, dark shadow hanging over John’s face. ‘You should’ve told me.’
‘No,’ Barry stated flatly. ‘And the way you’re reacting is the reason she was right not to. I should take you off the case…’ He held up a hand before John could argue. ‘I won’t because I need the two of you on this, but I also need one of my best detectives on this, not an angry husband. Your wife is in the safest place she could be right now. Switch off your emotions and use your brain.’ He gave his detective a bleak smile. ‘Arresting someone like that is next to impossible. It wouldn’t come as much of a surprise if he never made it to a cell.’
John nodded. ‘Thanks, Chief.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said once they were outside Barry’s office. ‘I should’ve…’
‘No,’ John snapped. ‘Barry’s right. You were right. I’d have gone off alone and got myself killed trying to nail him. And that’s why we’re not telling Lorna about this until after he’s a pile of ash.’
Bala, Wales.
It was sunset when they walked down to the edge of the lake, choosing a spot on the northern bank away from the water sports centre at the very northern corner and the campsite on the other side of the river. It was quiet; no one went on the water after dark and they cleared from it well before then. Not everyone knew about the Lady, but everyone got the feeling that letting the dark waters have some peace was a wise idea.
Llyn Tegid was about three miles long, maybe half a mile wide. In the summer it shone, but now it seemed to carry the cool of the winter with it into spring. Ceri stood on the water’s edge, looking out at a lake she had never seen with adult eyes. Her parents had moved from the little town when she was still a baby and had never taken her back, even though they had visited other parts of Wales.
‘So you were named here,’ Lily said from behind her.
Ceri nodded. ‘My parents brought me down here, to this spot, days after I was born. I think it was the done thing, maybe still is. You’d bring a newborn down to the lake to show it to the Lady. I don’t think she usually made an appearance though.’
‘But she came to you.’
‘She spoke to me. I didn’t understand what she was saying until the advice was past its sell-by date, but she spoke.’
The water in front of them, about a yard from the edge, rippled and then rose upward, rapidly forming into the shape of a woman. Lily gave a soft gasp; she had seen the same sort of trick done before, in a room somewhere under the Dubh Linn, but that water had been thick and black. This time the liquid seemed to solidify more and when the Lady stepped out onto the bank, she appeared to be a fairly normal, if incredibly beautiful, Sidhe in a clinging white dress, her black hair slicked down by the water.
‘Do you understand me better now, Ceridwyn Brent?’ the Lady asked.
‘My Welsh is still a little basic,’ Ceri replied, ‘and my friends don’t understand it.’
‘Then I shall speak English. You’ve done much since we last met.’
‘It isn’t like I had much choice. I’ve been pushed and prodded into doing what other people wanted for most of my life.’ Ceri tilted her head, regarding the fae woman thoughtfully. ‘I can’t help but wonder what you want of me.’
‘Me? Nothing. My family always considered me something of a… doormat, I believe is the modern colloquialism. They were most annoyed when I exiled myself along with my sister.’ She looked back at the water. ‘I am allowed a little more freedom than she is; I can actually leave my pool.’ Shaking her head, the Lady turned back to the trio before her. ‘I want nothing of you. And you have made much of being directed. Sorceress, scientist, the name “Ayasha” is on the lips of half of both Courts, your companions are the stuff of legend.’
‘I don’t think…’ Michael began.
‘The return of the Morrigna did not go unnoticed, young man,’ the Lady told him. ‘The wolf who fought as Anann’s champion was seen by thousands of Sidhe. You are well regarded, Michael.’
‘Oh,’ Michael said, frowning.
Ceri grinned at him. ‘Sucks being famous.’
The Lady was smiling. ‘And a happy birthday for tomorrow. You’ll enjoy it, I think.’
‘I’m sure I will, ma’am,’ Michael replied.
Then the raven-haired fae turned and started back toward the lake. ‘I’ll leave you to your evening. And that advice I gave you, Ceridwyn… You have not actually met my sister yet…’ Laughter like wind chimes rippled out across the water, but the woman who had made it was gone, vanishing into the lake without a ripple.
Fulham, London, April 17th.
The body was lying in an alley
, half-wedged behind a dumpster at the back of a fast-food outlet. They still had uniformed officers scouring the area for the head.
‘Unconfirmed, obviously,’ Kate said, ‘but she was probably Lucy Benton. She worked here, left about eleven-fifteen. No one heard anything. Seems like she just lay down and let him do that to her.’
‘Six days again,’ John mused. ‘I think we’re missing a body. He’s on a six-day cycle and there was a twelve-day gap between the first deaths.’
Kate nodded glumly. There was not much they could do about that unless the victim was found, but she figured he was right. ‘You think this is Chan?’
‘I think that this is Chan, and I think the new drug we’re seeing is his work too. You remember when this started, Gwyn suggested an alchemist might be involved? I think she was right. I don’t know whether he needs the blood for his experiments, but I’m betting the bastard knows alchemy.’
‘All the deaths have been north of the river, and the drugs are being distributed north of the river.’
John gave a nod. ‘And I’m thinking that he would keep his activities away from where he was holed up.’
‘That’s cut the search area in half, but…’
‘I think it’s time to ask for some help from some friends.’
Llyn Arenig Fawr, Wales.
They had not stayed in Bala itself, but in a small bed and breakfast establishment under Arenig Fawr, one of the mountains in the Snowdonia range. The place was run by Siwan, one of the local pack, with her mate Nye, and Rhys had said it was a well-run establishment which would not bat an eyelid at anything they got up to. Certainly Siwan had just smiled when three werewolves had run off into the hills above the cottage just after an early breakfast.
Now they were lying beside the lake which provided water to Bala and its surrounding villages, sitting in the shadow of the mountain. The sky was bright and clear above them; the wind was light enough not to be cold, and strong enough to cool them from their run. It was a perfect morning to be out in the hills with the senses and power of a werewolf.
Thaumatology 12: Vengeance Page 13