Simon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I followed him. I was right: he came to another center—the Memorial Youth Center. I saw him and followed him when he left the center, a little farther every time. I know where he lives.”
“Where?” Andy asked.
“There’s a country club somewhere way out in the woods. I was going to wait for more kids to disappear, then deliver the invitation to that club. I heard a woman there call Oisean by his name. I know he’ll be impressed that I found him, that I learned his name. He’ll open the invitation, and he’ll come here to see my work.”
He lifted his chin then, and his eyes held a wild gleam not altogether sane. “You’ll tell him. You’ll make him come. Won’t you?”
He shot off his seat. I had a second to react, to decide what to do with the madman hurtling toward me, desperation in the tightness of his shoulders, his fingers curling into claws.
“You’ll tell him!” he screamed.
My spell broke over him like an ocean wave. The purple energy closed pushed his eyelids down, stole the tension from his body, and sent him into a deep sleep. By the time he’d made it to the center of the room, he was already falling. Andy dove forward and caught Simon before he hit the ground. His suit jacket strained at the seams as he flexed, taking the boy’s full weight before lowering him gently to the floor.
“He’s asleep,” I said quickly.
Simon crumpled into Andy’s arms, seeming smaller and more vulnerable now that the mad energy around him had dissipated. Sleep smoothed the lines from around his mouth and eyes, leaving him looking younger, more vulnerable.
“Keegan did a number on him,” Andy said grimly.
I rubbed my cheeks. “Yeah. It’s not surprising, though. Humans are vulnerable enough, but a disadvantaged boy with nothing? Who thought he had a talent that would save him, that made him special?” I pressed my fingers to my temples. “Keegan didn’t just reject Simon. He undermined the only thing keeping him from drowning in his own fear and self-doubt.”
“Elf-struck, that’s what he is,” Peasblossom said.
Andy looked up at her. “What?”
“Elf-struck,” I repeated. “It’s sometimes used to describe humans touched by the Otherworld. Usually it refers to a human who’s fallen in love with someone Other, someone who’s experienced the beauty and magic of an inhuman lover, and from then on finds other humans painfully inadequate, but it applies here. Simon knows there’s more out there, beyond humanity, and he won’t be satisfied until he can be part of that.”
Peasblossom flung out an arm, gesturing at the bloody paintings. “You think?”
“Think it would have worked?” Andy asked. “Think Keegan would have Taken him if he saw all this?”
“Oh, yes.” Peasblossom clung to my ear, shaking her head at the bloody art all around us. “This would definitely appeal to them.”
Andy hefted Simon’s limp body in his arms. He scanned the room for a clear spot to lay the child.
“Here,” I said. I walked over to a pile of sheets in the corner, pulling at them until it made a bed large enough for Simon.
Simon didn’t stir as Andy settled him into the nest of blood- and paint-spattered cotton. Andy took out his cell phone.
I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I’m calling the paramedics. This kid needs help.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Human doctors won’t help him. There’s nothing physically wrong with him.”
“I’m not leaving him here. He needs to be in a psych ward. You heard him: he’s unhinged. You can’t tell me he’s not a threat to himself or others.”
I dropped to my knees so I was at eye level with Andy. “Put the phone down.”
“Why?”
“Think about it. He’s elf-struck, and now that he’s let it out, there’s a good chance he’ll have a harder time pretending nothing’s wrong. His need for the Otherworld will get worse, until he can’t stand to be without them.”
Andy started to speak, but I held up a finger. “If you put him in the psych ward, they won’t believe anything he says. They won’t be dealing with a kid who’s got a peek into another world, who wants so badly to be part of that world that his own existence has become torture. They’ll think he’s delusional. Antipsychotics are serious business, even when someone legitimately needs them. To risk having them prescribed when we know they aren’t needed, when the doctors can’t base their decision on the facts…”
Andy glanced down at Simon. “What do you suggest? He hasn’t done anything illegal I can hold him on. And even if I think of something, prison would be no better for him than the psych ward.”
My stomach rolled with a sudden sense of unease, but I pushed it away. “I can call the Vanguard.”
Peasblossom tensed but didn’t speak.
“The Otherworld police you mentioned?” Andy asked.
“They have a special unit for cases like this. If the Otherworld has influenced a human in a way that threatens their life or makes them a danger, then the Vanguard will step in to contain the situation.”
“How?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “They’ll adjust his memories.”
The vein at Andy’s temple throbbed, but to his credit, he didn’t protest. He gazed down at Simon.
“There are more missing kids,” he said. “We don’t have time to find the perfect solution.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I’ll call the Vanguard.”
“How fast can they get here?”
I dug in the side pocket of my pouch for my cell phone. “If they agree to come, minutes. They have magical means of travel, and they use those in these situations, since elf-struck humans can be…unpredictable.”
My thumb hovered over the call button. “It might be better if you wait outside.”
Andy’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
I shrugged, trying to keep the nervousness off my face. “You’re new to the Otherworld, and the Vanguard can be…on the advanced end of the spectrum. And adding another person to the conversation has never made things go faster where they’re concerned.”
“No.” Andy crossed his arms. “If I’m turning this kid over to these people, then I need to see who I’m turning him over to.”
“You say that as though you consider it a possibility I’ll call them, you’ll decide they aren’t trustworthy, and then you’ll refuse to let them take him.” My stomach knotted at the thought. The Vanguard weren’t bad people, but bureaucracy could make people…touchy. “Once I call them and tell them about this situation, it won’t be up to me anymore. There’s no changing your mind.” I almost added that seeing the Vanguard was more likely to make him less comfortable than more, but held my tongue.
“I’m staying,” Andy said. “I have enough experience with politics. You don’t need to worry about me offending someone.”
I laughed before I could stop myself. “You have experience with human politics. You’ve never dealt with the Otherworld, not really.” I dropped my arms, letting a hint of a plea creep into my tone. “Offending them is easy to do, and it is never, never worth it.”
“And she should know,” Peasblossom added. “She’s offended all kinds of people.”
I clenched my teeth but kept my focus on Andy.
He crossed his arms. “I will strive to be polite and unobtrusive.”
I sighed and hit the call button. “Suit yourself.”
It only rang once before someone answered. Efficiency at its worst. “Vanguard.”
I smiled, pleased at least to hear a familiar voice. “Gertrude, how are you? This is Shade Renard.”
“Mother Renard,” Gertrude said warmly. “So nice to hear from you again. I’m well, I’m well. How is Hazel?”
“The same she’s always been,” I answered.
“Good, good. She’s a lovely woman, your mentor. And what can I help you with today?”
“I have a young elf-struck human here who needs
help. It seems a friend of his was Taken by the sidhe and he’s quite upset at being left behind.”
“Taken?” Disapproval colored Gertrude’s tone.
Gertrude was the epitome of the overprotective grandmother. She didn’t approve of the sidhe’s penchant for taking kids or artists. However, like all of us, she knew the sidhe danced the fine line of consent nowadays, and there was nothing to be done about the practice. Not without another war.
“I will send someone now.”
“Thank you, Gertrude.”
“It is good you called it in. Where are you?”
I gave her the address. “We’re in the basement, the section with the curtains over the cage.”
“‘We?’”
“Yes. I’m with Agent Bradford, of the FBI. He’s my partner on the case I’m working on that led me to find this boy.”
“I see. So I’ll tell them to wear a human guise, shall I?”
I smiled at Andy. “That would be most appreciated.”
“Very well. Wait where you are—she’ll be there momentarily.”
I thanked Gertrude and ended the call. “She’ll be here soon,” I told Andy.
“So who are they sending?” he asked.
I wrapped my arms around myself, studying my surroundings. The paintings didn’t offer a very pleasant distraction. “A psychic. She’ll go into Simon’s memories and— Oh, for Pete’s sake!”
Andy followed my gaze. “Is that a crow?”
“Yes.” I frowned and walked toward the bird. “Shoo, get out of here!” The bird tilted its head. I pressed my lips together. “Shoo!”
Peasblossom leapt out from under my hair to the edge of my shoulder. “Give me my sword! I’ll get the bugger!”
“You will not go chasing that bird around the basement.” I held a hand in front of her. “You get lost in the chase, and I don’t want you destroying anything.”
Peasblossom was staring at the bird. “I can take him.”
The bird cawed in a disdainful manner, then opened its wings. With the sharp snap of feathers against air, it took flight, sailing through the open cage door.
“We need to open the basement door, or that thing’s going to keep circling,” I muttered.
“Tell me about the psychic,” Andy said. “What will she do to Simon?”
“She’ll search through his memories,” I said, tearing my attention from the bird. “She’ll find the memory where Simon developed the emotional connection to Keegan—Oisean—and she’ll fade it out. He’ll still remember Oisean, but he won’t feel the same way about it.”
That was one way it might work. The Vanguard employed multiple psychics, and there was some…variation in how they approached their tasks. A thought eater consumed memories, and if the Vanguard sent one of them, the thought eater would find all memories involving Oisean and…well, eat them. Simon wouldn’t remember Oisean at all, and he’d have to live with the “blackouts” left behind where those memories had once been.
A piorum, however, would do as I’d said, and eat the emotion tied to the memory. The fact that Gertrude had mentioned what form they would take supported the theory she was sending a piorum, so there was no reason to delve into unpleasantness explaining the alternative to Andy.
“And this won’t hurt Simon,” Andy said.
“Not at all,” I promised.
“Mother Renard?”
I jumped and spun around. A woman stood in the entrance to the cage. She was short, about five foot three, with long light brown hair and brown eyes. She wore blue jeans and a pale orange long-sleeved cotton shirt.
“I am Crystal. You called about an elf-struck child?”
I pointed to Simon, my heart still pounding too hard. It was paranoid and definitely judgmental, but like most people, the Vanguard’s psychic unit made me uneasy. It was one thing to face a creature that might eat you, or kill you with a glancing blow. It was another to face a being that could take everything you were…and you wouldn’t even know it had happened.
Crystal strode to where Simon lay on the spattered canvas and knelt beside him. Andy stood over the boy like a sentinel, tension in his body warning he’d step in at the first sign of trouble. Crystal put her fingers on Simon’s temples and closed her eyes.
“Should I relocate him when I’m through?” she asked. She sounded distracted, as if she were already going through his memories.
“No.” I glanced at the paintings and almost reconsidered. “No, if you’re only taking the emotions from the memories, then he’ll remember all of this anyway. As long as he doesn’t go searching for the sidhe.”
Crystal nodded. “Always best for humans to avoid the sidhe. Especially artists.”
I looked at Andy, all too aware of the five children still missing. The five children who may well be close by.
“We need to go,” I said. “If you don’t need anything more from us?”
Crystal didn’t answer. She stared into space, her focus far away. For a second, I imagined her in her natural form. Nothing more than an ethereal brain, glowing like a piece of the Northern Lights. No body, no flesh. Just an organ covered with dancing wisps of colored flame…
I shook free of the image and indicated the door with my thumb, but Andy hesitated, still watching Simon.
“He’ll be fine,” I said quietly. “But the other children are in danger. We have to go now.”
Andy fixed me with a stare so intense that it pinned me in place. “You swear he’s safe with her?”
My mouth moved before I found my voice. I had to be completely honest. “He’s as safe as he’ll ever be now that he’s encountered the Otherworld.”
After another second of that intense stare, Andy squared his shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 11
“We need a plan B.”
Andy’s rational tone grated against my nerves. Plan B. We needed a plan B, he said. No, what we needed was plans B-Z. And then we needed to invent new letters.
I slumped in the passenger seat and stared at the road winding around the edge of Lake Erie. Figured the kidnappers would live at the water’s edge. It wasn’t enough we were walking into a house full of sidhe; we had to be dancing at the edge of a body of water big enough to hold a horde of monsters. And the sun was already setting.
A lot of things waited for darkness.
“We have a plan B. That’s not the problem. The problem is, we don’t have the time for a decent plan A, let alone a failsafe plan B,” I said as calmly as I could. “Oisean took the kids today. I don’t know if they’ll stay here, or what they’ll be doing to them. This could be our only chance.” I studied the scrap of paper in my hand with the sidhe’s address. “If they move, we won’t have Simon’s notes and the benefit of his months of spying to help us find them.”
“And there’s no one else who can help us? What about the ranger, Liam? He said we could call him.”
I checked the address against the one we’d entered into the GPS for the fiftieth time. “And I did. I called Liam and explained the situation while you were putting gas in the car. If anything happens to us, they are the plan B. They’ll come for the children if we fail.”
I sat up straight and rubbed my arms. My nerves were raw, and it was making my magic swirl like a storm inside me. My fingertips tingled with the need to draw a spell, to etch a rune, to do something. But it wasn’t time. We had to assess what we were up against first.
“I find it less than comforting that you’re so nervous,” Andy said, reaching down to brush his coat over his gun, as if reassuring himself it was there.
“Good. You’re in the right frame of mind.”
Andy pressed his lips together. “Do you have a better idea for getting those kids out? Because right now it seems like you have no faith in what we’re about to do.”
“It’s not that.” I stopped and sighed. “All right, think of the sidhe like…foreign diplomats. They have diplomatic immunity. They can get away with a lot, and they know part of th
e reason for that is we don’t want to make them mad and risk setting off a war with their entire race.”
The steering wheel groaned as Andy tightened his grip. “Did you say war?”
“Yes, the sidhe are touchy when they’re offended.” I toyed with the zipper on my pouch. “But to be honest, it’s unlikely they would go through with it. Their power isn’t what it once was. The modern age hasn’t been as kind to them as it’s been to, say, vampires. Too much metal.”
“You’re rambling, aren’t you? This is part of your nerves.”
“Probably. Anyway, picture them as foreign diplomats. They’re confident on your turf, due to the diplomatic immunity, so it’s possible they’ll be willing to talk to us. If we dance in verbal circles enough, they might realize it would be an inconvenience for them to keep the children. I doubt these kidnappings were part of any grand scheme, so they won’t have a reason to fight to keep them. We might be able to take them home, no muss, no fuss.”
“Or…?”
“Or we may have to go inside. They might let us in to talk to them, or we might have to find a less…direct way inside. But however we do it, the result would be us in their territory. We would, in essence, be in their country. Bound by their laws, not ours. Their rules.”
“At their mercy,” Andy finished.
Sidhe didn’t have mercy. I didn’t say that, though.
“Our best bet is to try logic first. We’ll try to negotiate for the kids. We’ll argue that they’re minors, that they belong at the shelter. If we’re lucky, we can make safe arrangements for the kids until we can come to a satisfactory solution.”
“What are the chances negotiation will work?”
I rubbed my hands together, palms itching to use my magic and release some of the tension. “Fifty-fifty. The sidhe aren’t stupid; they know they’re in a superior bargaining position right now. But they love to negotiate. Like I said, I can’t imagine a few humans would be worth so much to them they won’t even consider a trade.”
“But you’re worried enough to keep the werewolves out of it to have a plan B.”
“If we show up with the werewolves, our chances of negotiating go down to nothing. There’s no way they won’t see that as a show of force, a sign we intend to take what we want whether or not they give their permission.” I let out a shaky breath. “And, yes, I feel better having a plan B.”
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