Branwyn wasn’t afraid of the room. But she didn’t like to see her mother crying, so she lingered a moment, trying to get her bearings after the transition between worlds. She could just see her mother sitting on her bed, Rhianna’s arms wrapped around her. Her mother was weeping and murmuring softly, and Branwyn averted her gaze.
But Howl gave her a shove, and Rhianna noticed her. “There you are, Branwyn.” There was a steel in her voice that Branwyn never wanted to be on the receiving end of again. She was the eldest, damnit.
Holly glanced up and saw Branwyn, then said, “Oh, no!” and tried immediately to cover up the fact that she’d been crying. Branwyn felt a guilty pang that went straight to her core.
“Mom—”
“Don’t, Mom,” said Rhianna. “What’s the point in hiding it?”
“Branwyn always gets so upset—” Holly said weakly.
“Mom!” said Branwyn. “I’m an adult. I can cope. Why are you so upset?”
Holly’s lower lip trembled. “He’s left me. I didn’t even realize we were having problems and I came home and they were here and he said goodbye—” She covered her face with her hands.
A chill ran down Branwyn’s spine. “They?”
In an awful voice, Rhianna said, “Jaimie and Rime.” She stroked their mother’s hair while giving Branwyn a fierce, meaningful look.
Branwyn stared at the two of them, then stared past them. Holly hugged herself, clearly trying for control. “We have a party on Friday and I have no idea what I’m going to say—”
“Right,” she said, and left the room. Then she poked her head back in. “Mom, don’t write Jaimie off yet. He may not have left you willingly.”
“Oh, Branwyn, that’s so,” she gulped, “sweet, but he seemed… very enthusiastic.” She blew her nose on a tissue Rhianna handed her.
“Well, he’s a musician,” said Branwyn vaguely, as if that explained everything. She’d found it often did. “I’ll just go talk to him.”
“Branwyn,” said Howl, in a low, urgent voice. Branwyn closed the bedroom door and went to where he leaned on the wall looking at his phone. “Lots of people have been vanishing.” He turned the phone toward Branwyn and she read the headline on Eclipse magazine’s website blaring about a starlet vanishing from her home. Then Howl tapped the screen and brought up another tabloid site, this one earnestly declaring that a wave of alien abductions had swept across the LA area.
Branwyn glanced at Howl and he said hastily, “I wouldn’t ordinarily pay any attention to trash like this, but a friend of mine posted the second link because his girlfriend’s cousin is also missing.”
“And he thinks aliens took her?”
“He thinks something’s going on.” He glanced at the phone again and added, “It’s not like they’re wrong, is it? Just the wrong damned abductors. Is he going to come back in a century, the same age?”
Exasperated, Branwyn said, “He didn’t stumble through a fairy circle. We’ll get him back.”
“You have a plan?” asked Rhianna, closing their mother’s door behind her.
Branwyn frowned at her. “Why are you leaving Mom?”
“She’s taking a nap. She wants me—I know you’ll laugh at this—she wants me to stop you from doing anything unfortunate to Jaimie.” Rhianna gave a grim little smile. “Howl, I’m going to have to delegate that to you. You can keep his head from bouncing on the ground as Branwyn drags him home. I’ll be busy.”
“Doing what?” said Howl, the words dragged out of him.
“Ripping that b—” Rhianna caught herself and showed her teeth. “Having a nice chat with Ms. Rime.”
Howl looked between Branwyn and Rhianna uneasily. “I’ll let the kids know we’re going out, shall I?”
“Good idea,” said Branwyn and Rhianna simultaneously.
*
***“Street fight”***
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I was testing out my new camera and caught this. Freaky.
A man with spiky red and black hair walks down the street eating something off a plate. As he passes in front of an alley, he trips and somersaults forward like a cat, landing on his feet again. A hand off-camera grabs him and the camera adjusts its scope. An older man with a neatly trimmed white beard has taken off a suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He looks big, like the kind of man who works out regularly. The younger man surges forward, pushing the older man, and the older man starts to smack him around. It isn’t entirely a one-sided fight, but the older man is visibly sneering at the younger one. Finally he catches the younger man by the shirt collar, then twists him around with his arm behind his back, nods at the camera directly, and both men vanish in a puff of smoke.
*
“Why exactly do you think she didn’t just take him off to fairyland?” Howl inquired, wiping up some crumbs from Branwyn’s fried mozzarella with a frown.
Nearly an hour and many phone calls later, they were sitting in a booth at a bar and grill Jaimie’s band frequented, waiting for someone, anyone, to respond with a lead on Jaimie's location. “Because she was imprisoned in fairyland for centuries. She’s not going to go back until she has to.”
“And when’s that?”
Branwyn made a face. “As far as I can tell, each group of faeries is limited by a specific set of conditions. Tarn’s people are bound by the phase of the moon, for example. Currently, they’re only paroled here during the new or full moon.”
“But she’s not from your friend’s group, right?” Rhianna ate a cherry from the bowl of Maraschino cherries she’d convinced the waiter to bring them. “What’s she attuned to?”
“No idea. But it’s probably not something we can really influence.”
“I think I saw something,” said Howl slowly. “I was coming home one night and I saw one of them—they’re so tall and pretty, they’re hard to miss,” he added defensively. “Anyhow, I saw one with this group of girls following him. He was encouraging them, almost herding them sometimes, down the sidewalk. The girls were giggling and stuff; it wouldn’t have looked strange at all except it was one of them doing it, and he kept circling them. Then something happened and he swore and vanished. Straight into thin air. I had no idea what had happened, but I knew I’d seen it. But now I remember: the wind changed.”
“Hey, I saw something like that, too. What did the girls do?” asked Rhianna with interest.
Howl snorted. “Giggled and looked for him, then argued and split up to sulk. None of them believed he just vanished, even though they saw it. Idiots.”
Branwyn reached over and flicked him in the forehead, hard. “Don’t. And like I said, I don’t think we’re going to be able to send her off that way. But I have some ideas.” She looked around, then stood up. “Man the phones. I’ll be back in a bit.”
She went to the restroom. It was relatively nice: clean, with a faded old couch against one wall under a papering of old band posters. Branwyn met her own eyes in the long mirror placed over the two sinks. “You might not like what you’re going to see, Your Majesty. But if you wanted, you could get involved.” She paused a moment, expecting no response and getting exactly that.
Her gaze fell to her collarbone, and the mark mostly covered there. She sighed and loosened the lid on her reservoir of useless thoughts. After the last week or so, it was quite full. Hatred rolled out first, the foam on a tide of helplessness. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her arm twinged with an ache that wasn’t physical, and she heard the sound of the bone breaking. She remembered AT’s expression.
That did it.
Severin’s voice whispered in her ear, “Delicious cupcake.”
Branwyn opened her eyes. She could feel his presence behind her, but there was nothing in the mirror except the bathroom stalls. She could even feel his hands on her hips, stopping her instinctive attempt to turn around.
Her mouth dry, Branwyn said, “You’re not actually here.”
She felt his breath in her hair and couldn’t stop a shiver. “Smart girl,
too. I’m almost here.” Almost, his mental voice echoed. Almost there. Always. “Did you want something in particular, or were you just putting on a show for fun?”
“I want to pay you back for saving me,” she said breathlessly. He didn’t say anything at all, although she thought the pressure on her hips increased just a touch. She closed her eyes again; it was easier than the confusion presented by the mirror. “You want a faerie to, uh, play with, right? I’ll give you one.”
A lazy coolness had entered his voice when he spoke again. “Oh. Tell me more, do.”
“Lady Rime of Nightwell. She’s causing problems.”
Severin laughed, low and full of genuine amusement. “Of course she is, cupcake. That’s what they do.”
“I want her gone,” said Branwyn fiercely.
“You mean you want her free. Isn’t that what you’re working toward?” He leaned forward so that his breath was in her hair again and said conspiratorially, “I don’t mind.”
Branwyn's own breathing sped up. “I know what I’m doing. And it isn’t right to punish the innocent along with the guilty. But that doesn’t mean the guilty can’t be punished.”
“They’re all guilty. All of them.” His voice changed, became flat and threatening.
Branwyn tried to turn around again and couldn’t. Panicked helplessness rose in her throat and she thrashed for a moment, whimpering.
Severin dropped his mouth to her ear and made a sound that was disturbingly like a purr. The sound seemed to roll across her skin and somehow, the panic receded. She wasn’t helpless here. She’d decanted her own buried despair, dangled it as bait to lure him to her. When she let it overwhelm her, of course he came closer. She could handle this. She just had to keep control.
That in mind, she promptly opened her eyes without meaning to. He stood behind her in the mirror now, watching her with glittering eyes. He was, she realized, probably listening to her thoughts right now.
“Look, you want a faerie,” she began, and realized she she’d already said that. “If they’re all guilty, why won’t you go after her, even if I help you?”
“And give you the feeling we’re square? Nah.” His reflection smiled at her. “I want Tarn. I owe him. It’s personal. But getting to him is the only thing that will taste better than what brought me here tonight. I’m afraid Rime Nightwell just isn’t the same.” His smile changed into the jack-o-lantern grin and he added, “Besides, I’m very interested in her project.”
Branwyn scowled, but before she could say anything, the bathroom door opened and Marley stalked in, followed by Rhianna. Once again Branwyn tried to turn, and this time Severin let her, although he didn’t lift his hands from her hips. That made it worse, not better. Much worse. Now she was practically in his arms. He smelled like blue smoke and burnt sugar. She remembered being tugged against his chest and dreams she didn’t want to have—
Marley glared. “What is going on in here?”
“Why, hello there, sweetheart. Come on in. There’s room.” The kaiju extended a hand.
Murder in her eyes, Marley said, “Branwyn, come here.” Branwyn had a fuzzy memory of Marley threatening to end Severin and wondered if she had any way of doing it.
Almost gently, Severin said, “She doesn’t want your protection, sweetheart. None of your friends do. We could talk about why, if you want.”
Branwyn saw the anguish rise in Marley’s eyes. That undazed her. She moved away from Severin, interposing herself between the two of them. “Go away,” she told him coldly.
The kaiju’s eyes narrowed. “You invited me here, cupcake.”
Branwyn snorted. “That’s like saying blood in the water is an invitation to a shark.”
The grin he flashed was, in fact, shark-like. “Isn’t it?”
“Fine! Come along and help us deal with Rime, then.”
It was his turn to snort. “Nice try.” He moved forward, passing by Branwyn and Marley and Rhianna. But he turned as he opened the door. “Oh, by the way. I’ve made a deal with Hunter that he won’t try to recapture you. Isn’t that nice?” And then he was gone.
Marley’s fingers closed over Branwyn’s. “What were you doing?”
“Asking for help,” said Branwyn tiredly. “Just like I did with you. Except I don’t know his cell number.” She met her sister’s wide gaze and braced herself for more questions. But no more questions materialized. Rhianna just looked at her with a faintly interested expression that Branwyn knew she’d practiced in the mirror when she was seventeen years old.
Marley got her attention again. “Are you okay to go back out again? I want to make sure he actually left. Simon’s out there.”
“I’m fine,” Branwyn said, irritated. “Did you and Simon show up together?” She headed out of the restroom.
“Yes. He found the faerie you mentioned, too. Oh, God—” Marley tried to brush past Branwyn to rejoin Simon and Howl. Tried and failed, because Branwyn had longer legs and Severin hadn’t actually left.
He’d settled into the booth across the aisle. He watched the hostess notice him, a faint smile on his face. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Branwyn and her friends at all. But Simon was standing beside their booth, looking both puzzled and annoyed.
“Hey,” said Branwyn, moving into his field of view. “You found Rime?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said absently. “At a studio downtown.”
Branwyn frowned. “What kind of studio?”
“A recording studio,” said Simon, stepping around her. “What’s he doing here?”
“Being an asshole,” said Branwyn. “Ignore him. He hates that.”
“It’s true,” Marley confirmed.
The hostess stopped by Severin’s table with a menu and a smile. The smile froze as she stared down at him. He reached up and laid his fingers on her wrist.
Simon gave Branwyn a look of disgust. “That’s not my job. I’m not going to sit by while even the mildest kaiju hurts people in my presence.”
“Mild?” said Severin softly. The word shouldn’t have carried, but it did, bouncing off the walls like they’d been plunged into a fishbowl. Abruptly, Branwyn once again felt a massive pressure all around her, as if something was trying to drive her down to the ground. This time, blackness seemed to lap around her feet. The dining room actually seemed darker. It was like a black diamond rain, hard and sharp and painful.
Simon staggered, then scowled and straightened up. He muttered something under his breath and started forward.
The kaiju continued speaking, but this time soft words remained soft, meant for the hostess’s ears only. When Simon said, “Oi,” he glanced up in mock surprise.
“Coming out to play after all?” He stood up, holding the hostess’s wrist.
Quick as a flash, a knife, long and split down the center, appeared in Simon’s hand. Just as swiftly, Severin moved his free hand and his foot. Simon flipped into the air but caught himself and landed like a cat. Lightning crackled from the knife, searing a jagged afterimage onto Branwyn’s eyes.
She blinked and then, while they fought, she ran to the hostess and grabbed her free hand. The woman stared at her, dazed, tears in her eyes. Branwyn pointed at Marley. “She can help you. When he lets go of you, run to her.” She wasn’t sure if the woman understood, but Branwyn couldn’t actually yank her out of Severin’s steel grip. “Marley,” she shouted.
“She doesn’t want help, damnit! I’m trying.”
There was a thud as Simon went down badly on his back. The kaiju stomped heavily on his knife hand and the lightning crawled up his foot. The heavy, dragging pressure intensified.
“Of course she doesn’t want help,” said Severin conversationally. “She knows how treacherous she is. She’s betrayed everybody who’s ever loved her, in some fashion or another. Her justifications—amazing.” He shook his head and twisted his foot on Simon’s hand. The lightning played around his knee and Branwyn smelled something metallic burning. “And she’s never felt bad about it
until tonight. We have a lot of work to do, don’t we, princess?”
The hostess shuddered and started crying. Branwyn looked frantically between Marley and the woman, and saw only Marley’s frustration. She yanked on the woman, hard.
Then Severin caught her arm and dragged her close enough to rasp in her ear, “I could take your sister instead. Or Marley. The little darlings aren’t here to protect her now. I could take this pathetic excuse for a monster hunter. Just say the word. No?”
Branwyn tried to think of something, anything she could do. But the only person she could offer was herself, and that wouldn’t save Jaimie, that wouldn’t save Penny. While she was arguing with herself, handicapped by the terrible dark weight the kaiju radiated, Severin continued. “Of course not. Besides, she wants to come with me.” He brushed his mouth across her forehead. His lips burned. “Be a good girl and go back to your friends, cupcake. You’ve caused them enough trouble.”
Then he stepped swiftly away, hauling the hostess after him. The crushing pressure vanished as soon as he walked out the door.
“Ah. I don’t mean to be rude, but could you get off of me, Branwyn?” Simon said, and Branwyn realized with a start that she was standing on Simon’s chest. She stepped down and ran to the door, looking for Severin and the woman. But there was no sign of them in the parking lot.
“Regular bulldog, isn’t she?” Simon said behind her. “Gah! Shit! Baby, what did he do to you?”
“Are you all right?” Marley asked, concerned.
“I’ll heal, but look at my knife.”
“Holy crap, Branwyn!” exclaimed Howl, and Branwyn turned around. Her little brother had remained in the booth for the entire encounter. He was holding onto Rhianna’s shirt, as if he’d been worried she was going to join in. “Holy crap. How did you do that, man?” He pushed Rhianna away and slid out to join Simon.
The monster hunter stared disconsolately at what had been his knife. Now it was black, pitted slag.
Branwyn set her jaw and plucked it out of his hand, moving back to their booth.
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