by Carina Cook
He quickly described “Ben,” and his claim that Citrine had stolen a powerful magical object, along with his desire to get it back.
“I take it from your description that you don’t trust Ben one bit?” asked Jenny.
“I’m not even sure that Ben is his real name. You heard how he put it? ‘You can call me Ben.’ That’s a fancy way to not tell me his real name but not out-and-out lie, either. And he paid me in cash.”
Jenny frowned. “So he’s hiding something. Did he leave a number I can trace?”
“He doesn’t have a phone,” said Derek dryly. Their eyes met, and he could see that Jenny was as skeptical about that as he was. “His story is that he’s an otherworldly creature who’s weaker during the day and who doesn’t have ‘our human things.’ He’s going to come back each night about the same time to get updates on the case.”
“So what’s your read on this?” asked Jenny. “I can tell you liked her, Derek, but I have to ask. Do you think your mystery girl could be a thief? This Ben character seems shady, but that doesn’t mean that she isn’t shady too.”
“I know. And I’m going to count on you to help talk some sense into me, because I don’t want to believe it. I really liked her, Jenny. I want her to be real.”
She leaned forward and put her hand over his. That was good. It saved Derek from more embarrassing confessions. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been interested in women over the years. He was. He’d had a one night stand or three, but eventually, he’d start thinking about the dangerous nature of his life. He made enemies as a private investigator, and particularly dangerous ones when he worked on cases within the supernatural community. The pack had been decimated by one of those cases, and he’d been off tailing a suspect he’d been sure was guilty. Maybe if he’d been there, he would have died with all the rest of them. But maybe, just maybe, his presence would have made the difference. If even one of them had survived, it would have been something. But they’d died, and he’d been useless.
Under those circumstances, dating was hard. He couldn’t allow himself to care about anyone, because caring about them put them in danger. But Citrine could take care of herself. He barely knew her, but that was for certain. And so he’d allowed himself to feel a level of attraction that he hadn’t indulged in for years. He wanted her to be real. He wanted Ben to be a jilted lover, or a family member, maybe. Someone Citrine was fleeing. Someone he could help protect her from, except that she didn’t seem to need protecting from anyone.
“What do you want me to do?” asked Jenny.
“See if you can find out more about the weapon or the rock creature,” suggested Derek. “I’m sure that they have the same supernatural origins as both Citrine and Ben. No way Citrine is human. Not with those eyes, and definitely not after I saw her fight. I’m willing to bet that Ben wasn’t wearing colored contacts and dyeing his hair, either.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Citrine has no money, so she must have found somewhere to crash. She didn’t ask me for anything, and it seemed like she had somewhere to go. I expect it would be close by. I’m going to try to scent track her, but I’m not sure how effective that would be in such a high traffic area. I’ll also try the homeless shelters—although she was out too late for those—and ask some of the street folk.”
“Convene back here at lunch? I’ll get subs.”
“That’s a deal.” Derek stood up, stretching luxuriously. His coffee sat, forgotten on the table. It was probably cold, but he needed the pick-me-up, so he downed the whole thing quickly. “I’ll call if I learn anything useful.”
“You do that. And if I don’t hear from you by…”
“12:00. Give Darius a call and see if he’ll come scent things out.”
She nodded, watching him gravely as he came around the desk. He knew how much she hated sending him out to work while she sat here, squeezing information out of the computer system and worrying about whether this time he wouldn’t come back. But there wasn’t anything either one of them could do about it other than trying to be respectful of each other’s hurts. He hugged her tight, and she pulled his head down to kiss him on the cheek.
“You be careful out there,” she said, as she always did.
“I promise,” he answered. “Who knows? Maybe this case will be easy.”
She laughed. “That never happens.”
But she was wrong. When he opened the door to the office and looked out at the office building going up behind them, he saw Citrine standing next to it like she’d been waiting for him to come out. What were the chances? He swore loudly, catching her attention even at that distance. She looked around, searching for the source of the noise. When she saw him, she smiled widely and waved.
He couldn’t help it. He grinned as he waved back.
CHAPTER 5
Citrine couldn’t believe her luck. After a fairly comfortable night spent dozing on a sleeping bag that Hex produced from inside a closet, she’d awoken to a bright morning. It hadn’t gotten hot yet, but Hex promised that it would. They’d get some breakfast from a place she knew, and then head over to what Hex called a “gym.” She said Citrine might be able to teach combat there and make a little money.
It felt like things couldn’t get any better. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to relax just a little. This was freedom. If she wanted to teach combat, she would do that. If she wanted to have breakfast with her new friend, she would. No one was ordering her to kill or to submit. No one paraded her around in front of the court on a chain, demanding that she lick their shoes to show how low she really was. No one used their magic to send her torturous illusions just for the pleasure of hearing her scream and beg for mercy that would never come.
Instead, she was free and safe, with a life that stretched before her. It felt full of possibility in a way that she’d never thought possible. She’d forgotten what hope felt like, and now that she’d tasted it again, she would stop at nothing to keep hold of it.
When she stepped out into the sunshine, stretching like a cat, she saw a handsome man emerge from the building across the street. She paused a moment to admire him, even though she knew he wouldn’t be as attractive as Derek was. But wait… it was Derek. She felt like she’d recognize him anywhere, and when he turned, his eyes locked on hers. She couldn’t keep from waving her arms in a wild hello. She may have bounced on her toes a bit too.
She had imagined this day—this first day of freedom—so many times. But in her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined turning to a friend and saying, “That’s Derek. I met him last night, and he’s a good fighter too. I can introduce you. Maybe he could come to the gym with us?”
Hex seemed to be amused by something, so maybe she’d said something strange, but Citrine didn’t care. She was happy to see him again. Partly because now she could get answers to the questions that had been nagging her ever since their encounter with the troll, but also because…well…she was attracted to him. Why wouldn’t she be? He was strong and handsome, and he seemed to care about her in a way that she’d never experienced. She’d had plenty of partners before, but they’d never put themselves in danger just to help her out. Maybe all humans were like this, but after watching them last night, she didn’t think so. She was willing to bet that he was something special.
She couldn’t restrain her excitement. She grabbed Hex by the hand and dragged her across the street, angering some people in fancy vehicles who didn’t like having to stop for them. One of the drivers honked his horn and gestured with his middle finger at her. It must be a mortal insult here, like biting your thumb and wagging it in Faerie. She’d have to remember that for later, but she wasn’t going to let it get to her. She’d been through too much for that.
Derek reached the bottom of the stairs just as Citrine and Hex stepped onto the gravel pathway that bordered the building. Overcome by a wave of happiness, Citrine launched herself at him, hugging him hard. He seemed taken aback for a moment, and she had just
enough time to worry that maybe she’d gotten this whole thing wrong. She didn’t do relationships with other fae, let alone humans. Maybe she’d made some drastic mistake and he had no desire to see her ever again. She began to pull back, her face flaming with shame and sorrow, but then his arms wrapped around her and hugged her gently. So maybe everything was okay after all.
“Hey, Hex,” he said over her head.
“Hey, Derek. I didn’t know you knew my girl Citrine,” Hex responded easily.
Citrine pulled back, her brow furrowed. “You two are…?” But she didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Acquaintances? Friends? Lovers? She would be mortified if that was the case. Although she shared the faerie tendencies toward free love, she’d never been able to share her lovers. Some fae didn’t care, but she did. For the short time she kept her men, she wanted them all to herself. Afterwards, they could go wherever—and with whomever—they pleased.
“We met yesterday.” Derek released Citrine then, looking into her face with an expression that she couldn’t quite read. “I’m happy to see you.”
“Are you?” asked Citrine.
He smiled a little at that, but his eyes were sad. “Yes, I really am.”
“Good. We were going to have breakfast.”
“You should come,” interjected Hex. “I was going to take her to Dogtown.”
“That’s a good idea,” responded Derek.
Hex blinked, her surprise obvious. “You really think so? I half expected you to yell at me.”
“Not at all.” Derek put his hands into the pockets of his pants. He looked good, all freshly shaven and in a blue-green shirt that set off his hazel eyes. And if he looked nice, Citrine thought he smelled even better. Like trees and spices and man. “Actually, I’d like to come along too, if you don’t mind.”
“You don’t think I’ll get in trouble for bringing her, do you?” Hex asked in a sudden wave of concern that Citrine didn’t quite understand.
“No, not at all. There’s more to Citrine than meets the eye,” he replied.
“You should talk,” said Citrine, a little hotly. She felt like too much was going over her head, and all of the careless delight of the morning was gone now. It had been too good to last, she supposed, but at the least, she’d like to know what they were saying. Obviously Derek didn’t share her feelings of instant connection, if he was talking over her like this. Or maybe she was just cranky because she was starving. Either way, she didn’t like it.
“We will,” promised Derek. “Over pancakes.”
“Now you’re talking,” said Hex, looping her arms with theirs—Derek on her right and Citrine on her left.
She began to drag them down the street with determined good humor. Citrine didn’t know what pancakes were, but there seemed no sense in resisting. Besides, she wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on here. She needed to know what Derek was, and what he was after.
She needed to know whether she could trust him.
Citrine had prepared herself to adjust to many things in the human world. She felt like she’d handled herself well so far. The differences were there, of course, but easily explained by human magic. These phones, for instance? They did the same thing that a sending or a magic cauldron would accomplish back in Faerie. They sent voices or pictures, or sometimes both at once, over long distances. She had no problems with the strange lights, wild clothing, or the variety of strange human vehicles. All could be attributed to human magic, which Hex referred to as electricity. Citrine had asked about it casually as they were going to bed the night before.
But the one thing she hadn’t prepared for was the difference in food. Meals in Faerie tended toward the light and airy. Flowers and fruits picked right off the magical trees and served in wooden bowls, and that kind of thing. They had breads and meats too, of course, but those tended to be served sparingly, except for on fight days. The gladiators had consumed more food on those days than most fae ate in a fortnight.
But the humans doubled what she’d eaten on her hungriest day. When the woman brought her the plate of pancakes, she could barely believe her eyes. If she ate all of this, she wouldn’t move for a week! But she watched carefully, preparing hers exactly the same way that Hex did. As she finished pouring on the syrup, she noticed Derek watching her with an unreadable expression, but she didn’t think she’d made any mistakes. And when she took the first bite, the sweetness burst behind her eyes. It tasted so delightful that she moaned aloud and then clamped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
Hex laughed. “Yeah, I feel like I haven’t eaten in forever. No worries.”
But Derek was still watching her. “Do you notice anything strange about this place, Citrine?”
How was she supposed to answer that? She knew this place was called a restaurant, and they sold food. She’d seen a lot of them since she’d arrived on this plane, but she hadn’t had a chance to fully explore any of them. She had nothing to compare this place—Dogtown, it was called—to.
Finally, she said, “It has the best pancakes I’ve ever had,” which was true enough.
He smiled a little but put down his fork, watching her even more intently. “But do you notice anything about the people here?”
Ah. Now she understood the question, and she looked around carefully. It didn’t take long for her to put it all together. Her eyes moved from the slinking walk of the waitress to the light stance of the man in blue by the counter. She noticed the bruised knuckles of the wiry man lifting a mug to his lips and the way the woman next to him shifted his chair to keep the doorway in sight.
“They’re all like you,” she said finally. He nodded, and she leaned over the table, the delicious pancakes forgotten. “What are you?”
“Werewolf,” he said promptly. “Everyone here is a shifter of some sort, or shifterkin. Like Hex. What are you?”
“I’m fae.” Citrine paused, and then felt compelled to correct herself. “Well, three-quarters fae, anyway. I’m a quarter human. Humans aren’t welcome in Faerie, so that bit got me into a lot of trouble. I finally got sick of it and decided to come here.”
Derek considered this for a moment. He didn’t seem surprised by her claim at all, but Hex pushed back from the table and stared at Citrine with her mouth open.
“So those aren’t colored contacts after all?” she demanded. “Damn! And here I was going to ask where you got them.”
“You’ve seen fae before?” asked Citrine, surprised. “You don’t seem surprised by this at all.”
Hex shrugged. “Nope. You’re my first. But he turns into a wolf, and my cousin Darius turns into a giant scorpion thing. My mom turned into a raccoon. I didn’t inherit the knack of it myself, but I’m stronger and faster than the average person. Don’t get sick ever, either.”
“That must be handy,” said Citrine.
“You bet your sweet ass it is.” Hex grinned. “But if I can accept those things, and if I can accept things like vampires and mages and mummies, I have no problem with faeries. You stay in Las Vegas long enough, you’ll meet all kinds of creatures. Vegas tends to attract them. Like flies.”
“I suppose I was lucky in my choice of location,” mused Citrine, picking up her fork again and taking another bite of pancake. She felt much better now that the news was out and neither of them had run screaming in the opposite direction. “I didn’t really know where I was going. I’ve never been to the human world before.”
“Which explains why you didn’t know about things like busses and whatnot. I was wondering if you were a little touched in the head.” Hex shook her head in amazement, shoveling in her own food like someone might run up and snatch it away if she took too long. “It all makes a lot more sense now. We can help you get situated, can’t we, Derek?”
But Derek still hadn’t moved, and he hadn’t touched his food. Citrine grew worried as his silence stretched on. Something was wrong, and she didn’t know what it was.
Finally, he said, “How did you get here, Cit
rine?”
“Magic,” she said, after a guilty silence. “I opened a portal. The troll came out, and I feel pretty terrible about that, but I made sure to send it back before it could hurt anyone.”
“How did you open the portal?” he asked quietly.
She froze. It felt like there was something beneath his words, some danger she didn’t understand. Did he know something about faerie magic? Did he know that hers was stunted? Did he want her to use the Wand of Doors to open a portal to some unspeakable place for reasons she didn’t understand? But none of those possibilities made any sense, nor did her growing feeling of unease.
“Faerie magic,” she clarified, trying to sound casual. “I used a wand. Why do you ask?”
“Where did you get the wand?” pressed Derek.
Hex looked between the two of them, her mouth turning down at the corners. She sensed something was up and didn’t like it. “Listen, guys, maybe we should—”
But Derek cut her off before she could finish the sentence. “I need to know.”
So Citrine lifted her chin and told the truth. “I stole it. From the faerie king. And I’d do it again, too. You don’t know what it was like there, Derek. Humans are like animals to them. It didn’t matter that I was mostly fae. I had to get out of there.”
Derek’s head fell and his shoulders slumped. He looked defeated. “I was hoping you’d deny it. I was hoping you’d say you didn’t take it.”
“I didn’t have any choice,” said Citrine miserably.
He lifted his head to hers. “You stole. You’re a criminal, and it’s my job to find criminals.”
Citrine’s heart sank. Suddenly, it all made sense—his strange behavior, his repeated appearances in her life at the most convenient of times, his pointed questions. She’d deluded herself into thinking that she’d gotten away so easily. But Ilimitaine had been onto her from the start.
“I’m not the first fae you’ve seen recently,” she said flatly, hoping against hope that she was wrong.