by Bast, Anya
Emmaline let the knife drop and took up her own severed, yet still bubbling, air tube. Before all the air was gone, she took in as much as her lungs would hold. Then she dove through the murky blood-and-sand-swirled water to find the piece.
Precious moments passed as she frantically searched. Sharks would be attracted to the blood, which was a complication she didn’t need. Worse, she wasn’t sure she had enough air to get to the surface.
There! She grabbed the piece and shrugged off her tank. It fell to the ocean floor, making her lighter. It would help her ascend faster, and she needed fast. Luckily she wasn’t so far down that she had to worry about the bends. She pushed off the sandy bottom and propelled herself toward the surface, clutching the piece close to her chest and breathing out slowly and steadily as she went.
Breaking the surface of the water she threw her head back and gulped in air, thanking Danu for being down there with her. She was still alive. Amazing.
Her mind was spinning, but she knew two things.
She’d found the piece.
Now she had to find the real David.
TWENTY-TWO
SHE went back to the only place she could think to look, the hotel.
Securing the piece in her backpack and with her wounded arm wrapped up tight under her shirt to stop the bleeding, she used the hotel room key she’d found in David’s pack to enter his suite. There was a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.
The smell hit her as soon as she cleared the threshold—the metallic scent of blood.
She followed the scent through the suite and into one of the bedrooms. “Oh, Danu,” she cried as soon as she glimpsed the slumped figure tied spread-eagle to the bed.
Calum’s eyes were closed and his mouth gagged. His face was ashen and his limbs were sagging against the rope that bound them. Blood soaked the mattress and sheets from long, deep cuts to his stomach, thighs, and chest. It wasn’t unlike what Lars liked to do to her, but on a much more violent scale. This was a scene straight out of a horror movie. The redheaded fae had tortured him slowly, until she’d bled him out.
“Calum,” she sobbed, coming up to the side of the bed. “Oh, Calum.”
She stood there, looking down at his body for several moments, in total shock. She’d seen dead bodies before, of course. She’d produced quite a few of them herself, but it had been a long time and this was a friend.
Another grief-drenched sob escaped her. She pressed her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes on a wave of anger and sadness welling up from somewhere deep inside.
“Hey,” Calum croaked, “you can untie me whenever you want, okay? Sooner would be better than later, though. I need a drink.”
Her eyes had opened at hey. Calum was still as ashen as death, but his eyes were opened into slits and a trace of a smile played over his mouth. She let out a tear-laced laugh and made quick work of the knots securing his wrists and ankles.
Then she reached for the phone. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No. They’ll figure out I’m fae and throw me in Piefferburg. Don’t you dare.” Calum blew out a careful breath and rolled his considerable, blood-drenched bulk over the side of the bed. There was a thump as he landed on the floor.
Putting the phone down, she ran around to help him.
He put a hand up. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” He struggled to his feet and grinned. “Bitch didn’t know part of my magick is healing. She cut me; I healed it.” He winked at her. “You know the drill, right?”
Yes, she did, though her skill was not as pronounced.
“I pretended like she was really hurting me—which, of course, she was. Made the bitch think she’d killed me so she’d leave me alone.”
“I didn’t know you had healing ability of that magnitude.”
He nodded. “I figured in my line of work this might happen one day. It was a good secret to keep. If the Irish cow had known I was healing up all her torture, she’d have tried harder to kill me instead of assuming she’d done me in.”
“Irish?”
He glanced at her arm, which was bleeding through her shirt despite her efforts. “Didn’t you meet her?”
“Yes, well, our meeting was underwater. I never heard her talk without glamour masking her voice. She pretended to be David and she was after the piece. That’s all I know.”
“God, I’m glad you’re all right. What about the piece?”
“She’s dead and the piece is safe.”
“That’s my girl.” Relief had him sagging so much he had to sit down on the bed. He winced at the pain it caused him. “I don’t know much about her other than she’s—she was—free fae and came from Ireland. Still had a hell of an accent. Oh, and that she definitely didn’t want the warding around Piefferburg broken.”
“A free fae who didn’t want the warding broken.” Emmaline felt the expression on her face go hard. “What the hell?”
“Yeah,” he said with a lift of his brows. “I don’t know. Come on, let me wash up and change clothes so I don’t scare the hotel guests. While I do that, you tell me what happened. Then we need to take a trip across town to try to find David.” He started across the room at a halting, pain-filled gait.
“Across town?”
“Yeah, David met a woman here and was dating her. Turned out it was really the fae bitch. The woman she was impersonating had an apartment across town. I’m hoping he’s there.” He paused. “Hoping he’s not dead.”
They went into the bathroom, where Emmaline helped Calum clean and bandage his wounds. All but a few exceptionally deep slashes were already healed. Calum’s healing ability beat hers to smithereens. As she worked, she told him everything that had happened since she’d landed at the airport.
As they left the room, he turned to look at the bloody bed. “The maid’s gonna need therapy after cleaning that up,” he said and then shut the door.
On the way to Kiya’s apartment, Calum filled her in on what had been going on in Haifa. How they’d never known there was another fae—a free one, at that—with the same ability Emmaline had. It had masked her from Calum’s ability to sniff out fae and Phaendir. He’d shaken her hand and never felt a thing.
Emmaline was so angry at the fae she’d killed that she wanted to do it all over again by the time they’d reached the apartment building—only this time, slower. Jaw clenched, she followed Calum up the stairs and kicked the white wooden door open before Calum could say a word.
Inside it looked as though there’d been a struggle. The coach cushions were on the floor, a chair was knocked over, and everything had been swept from the coffee table. There was no blood. That was a good thing.
Spotting something on the carpet in front of the coach, she knelt and picked it up.
“A syringe,” said Calum. “Interesting. Either she drugged him up to keep him quiet, or she drugged him up so she could transport him easier.” He paused. “Or maybe kill him easier.”
A chill shivered down her spine. “Let’s search the apartment.” She hoped he was here.
She hoped he was still alive.
It didn’t take long. The fae hadn’t even bothered to hide him very well, that was how confident she’d been that her plan would work. Emmaline found David lying in the bathtub, still out from whatever drugs she’d given him.
“Hey,” she said, kneeling beside the tub and slapping his cheeks. “Hey, David.” No response. She stood up and turned the shower on full blast—cold, icy water.
David came awake with a shout and nearly leapt out of the tub.
Emmaline shut the water off and grinned down at him. “Hi, you.”
Shaking his head, he groaned. After a second, he grinned up at her. “Hey, nib. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”
“How about your loyal alcoholic sidekick?” asked Calum from the doorway. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
David ran his hand over his face, wiping water away. “Calum, I’m happier to see you than a whole room full of strippers.”
> “You know, David,” said Calum, “I hate to say it, but . . . I told you so.”
GIDEON’S palms were sweating. He rubbed them on his trousers, amazed that he was confident enough to try to overthrow the Phaendir, yet this woman could make him nervous. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on her door.
He heard Emily on the other side, peeking through the peephole. After only a second’s hesitation, she opened it with a smile. “Brother Gideon, what a wonderful surprise!” She swept her hand toward her living room. “Come on in.”
He beamed. “Thank you.”
“Please, have a seat. Can I get you something? A cup of tea, maybe? I was just heating up water for some.”
“That would be great. Thanks.” He sat down on the couch.
She went into the kitchen and clanked around. Then she reappeared with two cups of steaming water, a tea bag in each. Smiling, she handed a cup to him and sat down in a chair. “So why have you stopped by?”
He played with his tea bag and tried not to feel anxious. “I was just following up on finding a way to repay you for going above and beyond the call of duty for the Phaendir.”
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“I want to do it,” he said quickly. “It’s not on behalf of the Phaendir. It’s . . . personal.”
“Oh.” She blushed and looked down into her tea with a small smile on her face.
“I asked you before about antique jewelry. Do you collect it?” Please, say you do. Please, please, say that you do, Emily.
She looked up. “I really don’t.”
Gideon’s hand tightened on his cup. He was going to have to make that phone call after all. Something dark and sharp twisted in his gut. He’d been right to suspect her after all. Damn it. Damn it!
“But I did inherit some from my grandmother Martha, who liked to collect it.” She smiled. “Some really valuable and unique pieces. Oh, it’s beautiful stuff. I should probably put them in a safe-deposit box, come to think of it.”
Gideon relaxed. Thank you, Labrai. “So, if jewelry isn’t an option, how can I show you my thanks for all you’ve done?”
She took a sip of tea and appeared to sink deep into thought. “Well, I do love a nice red wine from the Côtes du Rhône. Maybe you could buy me a bottle—”
He laughed. “That’s hardly enough to say thank—”
“—and you could come over and help me drink it one night?” She smiled.
Gideon snapped his suddenly dry mouth shut. “That would be wonderful.”
She beamed at him and his heart skipped. “Great. We have that settled, then.”
“Yes,” he murmured into his teacup, totally pleased with himself. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d bumbled his way into a date with Emily, but he wasn’t complaining. “So, did you have a nice visit with your mother?”
“I did.” She nodded. “Very rejuvenating after such a stressful few weeks in Piefferburg.”
“I’m told you intend to reenter Piefferburg now that you’ve returned from your leave.”
She looked at him, eyes sparkling. “Yes! It’s so exciting! I figured, you know, since I already have an established place there, I’d go back and see what else I can uncover.”
“Very admirable of you.”
They finished their tea, making small talk, until Gideon decided it was time to leave. He practically floated back to headquarters, where he planned to catch up on some paperwork.
Still musing about the jewelry, he wondered where her grandmother Martha had managed to obtain such a rare piece as the pearl pendant. He wondered if Emmaline even knew she had a fae piece in her collection. It would be interesting if he could dig up some information about such pieces of jewelry and subtly bring it up while they drank wine together. He could impress her with his knowledge and she would remember the pearl pendant in her possession. She would run to get it from her bedroom . . . and he would follow.
Ah, and his imagination should stop there while he was at the office.
Had her grandmother come from Ireland, perhaps? Interesting question. Martha’s maiden name might give him a clue.
It was late in the evening and he was one of the few people in the darkened building. There would be no one to hassle him if he went down to the records room and took a quick peek at Emmaline’s personnel records.
He walked down to the office in the basement and flipped on the fluorescent overhead lights then headed to the proper filing cabinet. In some ways the Phaendir were still old-fashioned. They still kept paper records of all their employees.
Finding the right file, he flipped it open and turned the pages to the information on her family. The Phaendir did a more in-depth background check than most employers did, considering the sensitive nature of their business. Now, just to find ...
“Huh.”
Gideon frowned down at the paper that listed the names of her grandmothers. She had a Beatrice and a Caroline. No Martha. He frowned a little more. Beatrice and Caroline were not even close to Martha. Nor was Martha short for Beatrice or Caroline. Gideon replayed the conversation with Emmaline in his head again. Yes, she’d definitely said her grandmother’s name was Martha.
Could the information be wrong?
Clutching the file, Gideon headed to his office and turned his computer on. A search with their resources online should clear this up. He would just have to delve a little deeper into her history to figure it out. He started tapping away.
Fifteen minutes later and he flopped back against his chair.
Beatrice and Caroline were correct. There was no Martha. What was more, there was no mention of any Martha anywhere in her immediate family.
Gideon rubbed his chin, trying to come up with an explanation for why Emily didn’t know her own grandmother’s name.
He came up blank.
After several moments of dark glowering, he reached for the phone.
“ARE you certain you want to go back again?” Gideon watched her with his mild brown eyes that would have seemed innocuous in any other man’s head.
She adjusted her pack, slung over one arm. It jostled her glamour-hidden bow. “I’m sure, Gideon, but thank you for your concern. I think I’ve found my calling with this kind of work. It’s frightening but also exhilarating. And I love that I’m helping the Phaendir so significantly. Have you begun to follow the lead in Wales?”
“The manure farm? Yes, of course we have. The location is slightly . . . unfortunate.”
“Yes.” She tried to look grave. Once they figured out the manure farm was just a stinky dead end, Emily Millhouse was going to have to disappear forever.
Of course, that wouldn’t be a problem. As soon as she stepped through those gates, Emily Millhouse would disappear forever. Emmaline Siobhan Keara Gallagher was going to disappear, too, at least from the human world.
She’d put the piece in her pocket and used glamour to conceal it—she could disguise anything touching her body, as she did her crossbow. Her pocket was by far the safest place for it . . . as long as they didn’t decide to strip-search her.
Calum and David were already back home. They’d all left the day after the fireworks. She’d returned to Phaendir headquarters as soon as her appointed leave was up, still with many unanswered questions. They were no closer to finding out who the rogue fae woman was, why she’d done what she done, and whether she’d been working alone or with others.
The biggest question on all of their minds was how the rogue had found out about the piece to begin with. How had she known where to go? How had she known whom to target in her bid for the piece? They were certain she hadn’t been aligned with the Phaendir, but that was all they knew. Clearly there were more players in the game than the HFF, the fae—or even the Phaendir—were aware of.
“And we are grateful for your help,” Gideon finished with an oily smile.
“Thank you.”
Gideon’s eyes sparkled with sudden unexpected malice. “Would you mind if we searched your possessions?”
A little jolt of shock went through her. Her steady, bright smile slipped a little before she caught it. “Search my possessions going into Piefferburg? Is that some new regulation?”
“You could say that.”
He was suspicious of her. Really, really suspicious. She’d thought she’d successfully navigated through all of that. She looked to the gates and cold dread fisted in her stomach. Oh, Danu, no. She hadn’t gone through hell to get this piece just to have it taken from her five feet from the finish line.
“Where’s Brother Maddoc?” she asked as sweetly as she could. “Shouldn’t he be here, too?”
“He’s on his way,” Gideon answered in a diamond-hard voice. It sounded a bit like he was clenching his teeth. Also, she noted with unease, Emily’s womanly powers of distraction and persuasion didn’t seem to be working on him right now. How odd. What had happened to change that?
That cold fist in her stomach got a little tighter and a smidgen colder.
“So. Your bag?” Gideon held out a hand.
A smile flickered over her lips. “Of course, but I have to admit I’m a little offended to think you believe I’m bringing some kind of illegal contraband into Piefferburg. What could you possibly think I might have, by the way?”
“I’m afraid that’s not information I’m at liberty to reveal,” he replied, taking her bag. “And I’m sorry you’re offended by our actions, but we can never be too careful.” His gaze met hers and held. “We are talking about the very fate of the world, you know.”
“Of course.”
He set her backpack down on the ground, unzipped it, and began methodically laying the contents onto the grass. Her heart beat a little faster. Any normal person might check her belongings but not ask for a strip search. Gideon was not a normal person.
Just as he’d laid the last item onto the ground and had turned his attention to possible secret compartments in the bag itself, he said the words that chilled all the water in her body. “You have no grandmother named Martha.”
“What?” She blinked and took a step backward. Martha. Yes, she’d mentioned her grandmother’s name was Martha back at her apartment. Sweet Danu, had she gotten it wrong? Had Gideon checked?