The bored teenager and his mother arrived with trays of food, and we paused while people scooped food onto their plates.
Ken mumbled around a mouthful of kung pao chicken. “Parasites don’t kill just for the sake of killing. Death might be a by-product of their activities, but those activities are dictated by one thing and one thing only—procreation.” His voice had taken on the cadences of my professors at Yale. “The evolutionary drive to spread the species. The vector is the question. How does the parasite move from host to host?”
John beat out a nervous tattoo on the edge of his plate with the end of a chopstick. “Werewolves eat normal human food. They’re tougher and live longer than a normal human, but not significantly longer, and they’re sure not functionally immortal like a vampire. I don’t see any overlap between the two.”
“Blood,” Hettie said quietly. “It requires an exchange of blood in order to Make a werewolf or Make a vampire. A woman’s blood has to be the vector.”
“’Cause menstruation wasn’t enough reason for women to be suspected and despised,” I said and I didn’t care if I sounded bitter.
Ken paused for a sip of tea. “What I don’t understand is how the creature can stay dormant for so long. Reproduction is a powerful motivator and only creatures with higher faculties are able to postpone procreation.”
“The ancients figured that out and put in place the prohibition about feeding on women or Making women,” Hettie mused. “Which implies you have to get a vampire or a werewolf to bite a woman.”
“The prohibition is deeply ingrained,” I said. “Even a shithead like Ryan—a vampire at my office,” I explained in response to Hettie’s puzzled look. “Anyway, even Ryan, who was playing dominance sex games with female associates, never risked even a nibble.”
“There’s another thing about parasites,” Ken said. “They evolve and adapt. If one avenue to pursue the prime directive—reproduction—is closed off they’ll find another path.” He turned to me. “Which is why I really need to do a full physical workup on you. If I can locate the thing in your body I might be able to remove the creature so I can study it more effectively.”
“I’d vote to destroy it,” John said.
I drew patterns in my rice with a chopstick and debated how much to say. I realized I had to trust the people around me or I was doomed. I cleared my throat and they all looked at me.
“Well, as to that. I think it’s more than a tapeworm or a fluke. It’s aware. It can affect its surroundings, and that ability seems to be getting stronger. And … and … I can sense it. What it’s feeling, if not what it’s thinking. So maybe ixnay on the estroyday ingthay,” I concluded.
“Huh?” Ken queried.
“Big brain doesn’t know pig Latin?” John asked.
Ken looked haughty. “No, I know real Latin.”
“Bully for you. Step aside and I’ll translate.”
The two men left the table. I glanced over at Hettie. “You think I’m crazy.”
“No.” Her expression was grim. “I think this just got a lot scarier and more complicated. If this thing is intelligent, sentient, however you want to say it, that presents us with a dilemma both moral and tactical.”
“One parasite measured against thousands of vampires and werewolves?” I asked.
“Testing me, are you?” Hettie asked. I just raised my eyebrows at her. “Well, I turn it back on you. One father measured against thousands of vampires and werewolves.”
17
Once we reached the Dakota, Parlan had demanded to be told the latest. Ken listened with interest as John and I went through everything that had happened since my last stay. Parlan’s brow was knotted and his eyes stormy when I told him about my father. Ken looked shocked.
“Your dad? Wow, that’s brutal … and kind of … twisted.”
“He’s a villain. Shall I deal with him for you?” Parlan asked.
“No. I’ll fight my own battles, thank you,” I flashed at him.
John brought me back to Earth. “And just how do you plan to do that?”
“I’m working on it. The most important thing right now is making sure this thing doesn’t trigger.” I turned to Ken. “So yeah, some medical tests would be a good thing.”
“I can’t do it from here, but we’ll get something set up. I’ve got a lot of contacts at various hospitals because of my werewolf research,” Ken said.
“Good.”
“Dealing with the one in you is important,” John said. “But is there more that can or should be done?”
“What do you mean?” Ken asked.
“Maybe this is something, like small pox, that doesn’t need to exist in the world any longer,” John answered.
“We could learn a lot studying the creature,” Ken objected.
I rubbed a hand across my brow. “Let’s table this until morning. I’m really exhausted, so I’m going to bed.”
As I left the room Ken asked Parlan if he could gather samples in Fey, because maybe in Fey there were different kinds of worms and flukes and wouldn’t that be cool? Parlan was looking grossed out and poleaxed all at the same time.
If I slept I didn’t recall it. Instead I lay there staring at the intricately carved branches that formed the canopy on what had become my bedroom in Fey and trying to analyze the situation. If I stayed in the human world these Black Masons would try to use me and the Powers would try to kill me and probably succeed. If I stayed in Fey I might be safe, but I was functionally a prisoner in a gilded cage, unable to live a normal life. Being a victim or a pawn wasn’t my style and I sure didn’t want to die so we had to find a solution. I was twenty-eight years old and I had a life stretching out before me. Perhaps a husband, children, a law practice with cases that made a difference (I had always wanted to argue a case before the Supreme Court), and many more horses to ride.
I gave up on sleep and got up around six and found Parlan drinking coffee and reading through handwritten pages. “You’re up early.”
“I have a domain to manage.” He waved the pages at me. “Reports from my staff.”
“God, even in fairyland there’s bureaucracy.”
“But no lawyers,” he said brightly.
“Yeah, you handle things with duels. Not seeing that as an improvement.”
“Generates less paper,” he said.
“True.”
“I expect it will be a while before John gets here. Why don’t you go for a ride?”
It had never occurred to me that I could ride in Fey and I hadn’t been on a horse in several weeks. I was overcome by the desire to swing a leg over a horse. I reluctantly shook my head. “No boots, no clothes.”
“We can handle that.”
Thirty minutes later I was mounted on a chestnut mare that shone like a polished copper penny. The clothes they had found for me weren’t much different than my normal riding attire except the cuffs of the boots were softer and they extended above my knees. What I really missed was my safety helmet, but no one in Fey seemed to worry about traumatic brain injury.
Parlan rode a glossy black stallion with a single white star. Ladlaw rode with us as bodyguard. His mount was a cream-colored mare with a golden mane and tail. Parlan caught me studying him with a horseman’s critical eye.
“Well, do I pass muster?” he asked with a smile.
His horse was plunging, prancing in place. Parlan was relaxed, swaying in the saddle, matching each crow hop and buck. He was an excellent horseman.
“You ride very well.” I wanted to add that he looked better in the clean lines of tall boots, skintight breeches, and a neat coat than he did in all the lace and frogging that he usually affected, but for once I managed to control my tongue and not be rude.
We left the courtyard of the Dakota. Ladlaw moved ahead and stopped the few cars so we could pass. Across the narrow road the Fey version of Central Park was pale spring green. Dew trembled on cobwebs that hung like pale lace on bushes. Ladlaw had a bow slung on his back and a swor
d at his side. Parlan also had a sword. We trotted down dirt paths, and our passing would occasionally release a shower of dew from the branches overhead. It was bracing cold against the skin on the back of my neck. My mare was a bit fresh and occasionally grabbed the bit and tugged, trying to rip the reins from between my fingers. The third time she rooted on me I tapped her with the spurs and gave her a sharp half-halt. After that she stopped testing me and went nicely on the bit. The trees gave way to an open meadow, a long swath of green heading down toward the lake.
“Shall we gallop?” Parlan asked.
I nodded and lightly closed my legs on her sides. She exploded into a gallop, and I gave a whoop of delight. She caught my mood, gathered her hindquarters beneath her, and increased her speed. The head of the cream mare was at my left knee. Parlan’s stallion overtook us in five large bounds. My ears were filled with the rush of air and the pounding of hoofbeats. The stallion’s head snaked over toward the neck of my mare, preparing to nip her. Parlan leaned forward and smacked him lightly on the muzzle. The stallion snorted his displeasure and Parlan laughed. The horses began to slow and we pulled up at the edge of the trees on the far side of the meadow.
Horses and riders alike were breathing hard. “There, now, don’t you feel better?” Parlan asked me.
“I do. Thank you.”
He looked at me and his gaze was serious. “Whatever comes, know that you can survive it, Linnet. You are strong in ways you can’t even imagine.”
“Well, thank you. I just hope that won’t have to be tested.”
We took a circuitous route back to the Dakota. We startled a small group of deer nibbling on the tender spring leaves. A young buck was rubbing his newly budded antlers on a tree trunk, leaving shreds of velvet behind. The herd leaped away with a flash of white tails as we rode by. There was a colony of bunnies out on the grass eating and hopping about. Ladlaw went to unlimber his bow, and I put a hand on his arm.
“Please, don’t. I’m kind of squeamish about things getting killed. I’ve seen too much of it.”
“Of course, my lady,” the tall Álfar said.
“Oh, please, call me Linnet. And most people would argue I’m not at all ladylike.”
We returned to the Dakota and walked up the stairs to Parlan’s quarters. John was waiting for us. He thrust a McDonald’s bag into my hands. “Washington has the video. Since electronics don’t work so good in this place we’ll have to go to the 19th to view them.”
I stuck the Egg McMuffin back in the bag. My appetite was gone. I knew John was right and I really did need to see this, but I really didn’t want to. I stood, just breathing hard for a few moments.
Parlan touched me gently on the elbow. “Do you wish me to accompany you? Stand at your side as your friend?”
“No. Thanks, but no.”
“And what of Ken?” Parlan asked.
I nodded toward the bag. “Give him my Egg McMuffin and tell him I’ll be back later.”
Parlan looked heavenward. “I will give him a satchel and let him go off to collect bugs, or fungus, or whatever other disgusting thing that takes his fancy.”
“Actually I was hoping I could get some fecal samples from a random sampling of your people,” Ken said.
None of us had noticed him entering the room. Parlan’s look was so horrified it was comical and I found myself giving a short laugh despite my inner turmoil.
“Hilal! No!” Parlan said. Ken looked crestfallen.
“And, as much as I want to collect, I should probably get those tests set up,” the scientist continued.
“Good idea.” John turned to his changeling brother. “Parlan, can you get Ladlaw to transit him between worlds and stand guard?”
“Absolutely.”
“And this guy can bring me back?” Ken asked.
“Yes.”
“Cool. Then I’ll be able to collect too.”
“How … nice,” Parlan said hollowly.
* * *
Lucius had things set up in an interrogation room. The expression in his warm brown eyes was concerned, caring. It was a welcome change from the flat gaze from John’s one good eye. I sat down in front of the laptop.
“The first image is from a bank on the corner. The second is from a traffic camera,” the cop said. “You ready?”
I gave a tense nod and Lucius set the images to scrolling. Then, in an act of sensitivity that I deeply appreciated, he moved to the far side of the room and took John with him. I watched the images flick past. They were grainy, black-and-white, the perspective was off, but one image came through with devastating clarity. I saw my father with two other men walking past. The traffic camera showed them crossing the street. I recognized the background; they were across the street from my apartment building. I grabbed the top of the laptop and slammed it shut. For a few seconds I just sat, trying to breathe, trying to organize my chaotic and frantic thoughts. Eventually I succeeded.
I continued to just sit at the table. I heard the door open and close then open and close again. A plastic cup of water was set at my elbow. I looked up into Lucius’s concerned face. “I don’t understand why, but it’s clear you’re really upset. Will you tell me what’s going on?”
I looked up into the cop’s handsome face and realized that if I didn’t fix this he would die too. Telling him might elicit a reaction that I didn’t want. I feared his rejection. “Uh, not yet. I’m sorry.” I took a sip of the water, then stood. “Thank you for getting this for me. It’s … clarified things. Come on, John.”
The two men exchanged a glance over the top of my head. I could almost hear their thoughts. Poor girl. She’s very upset. Keep an eye on her, won’t you? It infuriated me, but I let it go. I had bigger battles to fight.
“Back to Fey,” John said once we were on the sidewalk outside the precinct.
“No. Back to the bank. I need my phone. It’s time I hear what he has to say.”
* * *
We ended up with the same clerk, and she gave us an exasperated look as she took down the box. John and I hurried into a privacy room, and I took out my phone. While it powered up I felt his eyes on me. I looked up. “What?”
“You seem oddly calm.”
“I’m not the same woman I was last summer. I’ve been through a lot.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“No. But I have to accept it. Some things you just can’t change.” I stared down at the face of the phone, filled with colorful, cheerful apps. Pity there wasn’t an app for a shrink. “I think I began to suspect things weren’t what they seemed back when Chip got killed. Back when my dad was nowhere to be found on that first day. I needed him and he wasn’t there.” I shook it off and squared my shoulders.
There was a message from Caroline.
“Linnet, I thought you’d want to know since you worked so closely with him. David Sullivan is missing. The partners have been keeping it quiet, but the Terrible Bruce—though he’s been a little better recently—anyway, he told me in confidence and wanted me to tell you. I think he’s hedging his bets by not calling you himself. That way he can say it didn’t go outside the walls of the office. Yeah, maybe he still is a little shit. Anyway, I thought you should know. Bye. Call me. I miss you.”
The message ended. I stared at the screen. “Oh … shit.”
“What? What’s happened now?”
“Why didn’t you tell me David Sullivan was missing?”
“I didn’t know he was. You might have noticed—I haven’t been spending a lot of time at IMG. You’ve been occupying all of my time.”
I didn’t answer John. Instead I dialed my father’s cell number. He answered on the first ring. “Lynnie, thank God! Where have you been? Doesn’t matter. You got our messages about—”
“What have you done with David?”
“Why do you thi—”
“Oh please! How stupid do you think I am? First Charlie and now this. What? Do you think I’m just going to turn myself over to you and your g
roup because of David?”
“My group. So you know,” he asked.
“Yeah, pretty much everything.”
There was a long moment of silence, then a sigh. “I told them the Charlie ploy wouldn’t work.”
“Huh, well, I’m oddly relieved that you didn’t come up with that plan yourself. At least you knew me that well.”
“What about your friend?”
“That’s not going to work either, Daddy.”
“They’ll kill him.”
“Meaningless threats? Really? Oh please. Let me see if I’ve got this right. I let you freaks get control of me to save David except then you trigger this thing and David dies. Along with Meredith and Shade and Lucius and all the other vampires and werewolves I know. No thanks. Let me say it again—I am not an idiot. And I’m going to stop you. I’ve got people working on how to neutralize this thing. So you may as well let David go.”
“You don’t understand what’s at stake.” I could hear the frustration and impatience in his voice. “You won’t be harmed, but you’d be freeing the world. Making it safe for normal people again. Giving us back control.”
“And killing thousands and thousands of people—”
“Monsters!”
I was amazed and appalled. “You’ve smiled and interacted with them. Given me into their keeping, but you hate them this much? God, you must be a psychopath.”
“I’m a patriot! A humanist.”
“Who might be endangering all of humanity! The other group says this could jump from vampires and werewolves to ordinary people. Putting aside the morality of what you’re doing, think about the risk to the rest of us. To Charlie and Mom and you. Everybody!”
John laid a hand on my wrist. “That’s enough. We don’t want to give them time to find you.”
“Who’s that? Who’s talking?” my father demanded.
I ended the call and turned off the phone. John put it back in the safety deposit box, and we left, handing it back to the bank employee who locked it away again.
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