A Local Habitation

by Seanan McGuire

  “You look like shit, Daye.”

  “You don’t look so good yourself.” I was lying again, but at least this time I didn’t feel bad about it. Connor O’Dell is capable of a lot of things. Looking “not so good” isn’t one of them.

  He was tall, lean, and still managed to be fairly compact; if Alex was the magazine cover-model version of the California surfer, Connor was the real thing, right down to the calluses on his hands and the cut of his hair—long enough to be attractive, short enough that the waves wouldn’t plaster it down over his drowningly dark Selkie eyes.

  “Yeah, well. When His Grace decides to ship me off to Fremont at a moment’s notice, I get a little worried.” He held my hand where it was for a moment more before releasing it and turning to offer Jan a wry smile. “It’s good to see that she doesn’t just cause collateral damage at home.”

  “It’s been educational,” Jan agreed, holding out her hand. “Toby, you want me to call that guy for you?”

  “Please.” I passed her Danny’s card. “Tell him it’s for me, and he’ll come. I mean, he’ll bill through the nose once he realizes I’m not going to be the one in the cab, but that’s why Sylvester has a bank account, right?”

  Jan grinned. “Right.”

  “If you’ll all excuse me, I’d like to get started on those errands,” said Elliot. “The sun should be up any moment now, which will herald the opening of the flower shops. Gordan, would you mind accompanying me?”

  For a moment, Gordan looked like she was looking for an excuse to refuse. Then she shrugged, scowling, and said, “Better than hanging around this mortuary.”

  “April will stay with me,” Jan said. “That way, I can get some work done, but I won’t be alone. Fair?”

  “Fair,” I allowed. “If you see Terrie or Alex, tell them we’re setting up base here in the cafeteria. We’ll just get my things from Colin’s office.” I didn’t want to try cramming Connor, Quentin, and myself into the relatively small office for any length of time; someone would wind up with a bloody nose. Since it would take Danny at least half an hour to get to us, we needed to move to a bigger space.

  “Got it,” said Jan, giving me a small half-salute. And with that, we scattered.

  For once, I was awake at dawn and didn’t really mind that much. The sun came up when we were halfway down the hall, and Quentin, Connor, and I stopped where we were, leaning on each other’s arms until the moment passed and we were able to breathe again. Connor grinned goofily, taking a little longer than was necessary to let go of me as he straightened.

  “Remember that time we almost got caught out, and you pulled the blue eye shadow out of your purse and smeared it on your cheeks so you could tell people we were on our way to a Star Trek convention?”

  Quentin blinked at him. I bit back a groan.

  “Embarrassing stories later, paperwork now, please,” I said, and herded them toward the end of the hall with Connor snickering all the way.

  His snickering stopped when we entered the office. He took in the posters on the walls and the tank of Hippocampi before turning to me, asking, “Whose office is this?”

  “Was. Colin Dunne’s.” He paled. I cocked my head to the side. “You knew him?”

  “Not well, but, yeah, I did. How . . . ?”

  “Same way as everyone else here: under circumstances we don’t understand just yet. We’re working on it. That’s why you’re getting Quentin the hell out of here, remember?”

  Connor nodded, very slowly. “Where’s his skin?”

  His . . . oh, oak and ash. Groaning, I put a hand over my face. “It was in the car.”

  “The car.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Which exploded.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “With Colin’s skin inside it.” He was starting to get angry; I could hear it in his tone.

  I dropped my hand to see Quentin looking back and forth between us in utter confusion. Poor kid was probably fostered from a landlocked state. He wouldn’t understand the succession laws of the Selkie families.

  “It wasn’t intentional. The car seemed like the best place at the time. It just—”

  “How the hell am I supposed to tell his family that not only is Colin dead, but his skin’s been lost? ‘So sorry, you’re down a member, forever?’ Oberon’s teeth, October, do you understand what a big deal this is? Did you even think—”

  “You need to take some sort of sedative,” commented Alex from the doorway. “Valium, maybe. Or just weed. Colin was a big smoker, there’s probably a dime bag somewhere in here.” He was rumpled, like he’d just gotten out of bed, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that read “Mathematicians Do It by the Numbers.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “Alex. Hey. We missed you last night.”

  “Sometimes, even I must go off duty.” He entered the office, walking over to offer Connor his hand. “Alex Olsen. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Connor didn’t take the hand. He just scowled at him. “I’m not sure your opinion was asked for.”

  “True, it wasn’t.” Alex dropped his hand, looking entirely unbothered by Connor’s reaction. “Toby, you need me to help carry anything? Jan said you guys were setting up in the caf, and I just wanted to see if you needed any manual labor.”

  “Here.” I passed him the drawer I’d taken from Barbara’s desk. “Where’s your sister?”

  “Asleep in her office,” said Alex. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen to her.”

  “You’re sure . . . ?”

  “Terrie’s safe as houses.” He smiled. “Nothing bothers her when she’s sleeping.”

  “If you’re sure. Quentin, Connor, get the rest of those folders. You’re staying where I can keep an eye on you until Danny gets here.” United by their apparently mutual irritation, they nodded, picking up the folders and heading for the door. Connor “accidentally” hit Alex with his elbow as he passed. I raised an eyebrow. “Behold the maturity.”

  “I get it a lot,” said Alex, with a shrug. “After you.”

  I considered him for a moment and then nodded, following Connor and Quentin into the hall. “We’d better be quick, before they get themselves lost forever.”

  “Would that be such a shame?”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  The brief ease we’d shared was gone, washed away by the tension. I eyed Quentin and Connor as we walked into the cafeteria, dumping my own share of the files on a table before heading to the pay phone. “Make yourselves useful and start putting those in alphabetical order.”

  “I’m your secretary now?” Connor asked, still looking annoyed.

  “Consider yourselves the clerical pool,” I snapped back, and dialed.

  My suspicions about the phones were justified; the phone barely managed to ring before it was snatched up, and Sylvester’s voice was saying, “October? Is that you? Are you there? Are you all right?”

  “Whoa—I didn’t think you’d be the one on phone duty.” The image of Sylvester spending the night standing by the pay phone, waiting for news, was funny and tragic all at the same time. He couldn’t help. I was miles away with his niece and his foster, and he couldn’t do a thing but wait.

  “What’s going on? Is Connor there?”

  “He’s here, but, well . . . he didn’t bring a car. We’re calling for a cab, but it’ll be a little while. Your Grace, I need to tell you what I’m planning. I’m going to summon—”

  “Don’t worry about that; I don’t need to know. I trust your judgment. There’s been a change of plans.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “It’s not safe for them to be on the roads. Tell Connor that he’s to stay with you until your business there is done, and you can all return to Shadowed Hills together.”

  “With all due respect, Your Grace, I don’t think you quite understand just how bad things are getting over here. We’ve got a lot of dead bodies in the basement, for a start, and that never strikes me as a good sign.”

 
; “There’s nowhere safer than by your side.”

  I couldn’t decide whether his faith in me was touching or insane. “Your Grace—”

  “Just tell him to stay with you. Please, October. This will all be over soon.”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Trust me.”

  That was that. Sylvester was my liege; if he wanted me to keep Connor and Quentin in Tamed Lightning, I didn’t exactly have a choice. I set the receiver back in the cradle, turning to face the trio who had watched curiously throughout the call.

  “There’s been a change of plans,” I said, slowly. And with Oberon as my witness, I had no idea what I was going to do about it.

  NINETEEN

  “TOBY?” SAID QUENTIN HESITANTLY.

  “What?” I was sitting at one of the cafeteria’s many tables with my head in my hands, fingers buried in my hair, trying to figure out what to do next. Recognizing my mood, Alex and Connor had been walking on eggshells since I got off the phone. Alex had even gone so far as to scrounge a box of donuts from somewhere in the kitchen before going off to tell Jan to call Danny and tell him not to come, while Connor brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Maybe more than one; every time someone refilled my cup, I drained it, making it impossible to judge exactly how much caffeine I’d had.

  “If we’re staying, does that mean we get to help you summon the night-haunts?”

  “No.” I raised my head, giving him a stern look. “It means Connor gets to keep an eye on you while I deal with them.”

  He frowned. “But if I’m here . . .”

  “Quentin, look.” I sighed. “If it weren’t for the part where they’re as likely to kill and eat me as they are to answer my questions, I might say yes. But the Luidaeg said that it’s a solo summoning. If it comes from more than one person, it’s not solo.”

  “Hang on.” Connor lowered his half-eaten donut, eyeing me. “Kill and eat you? No one said anything to me about killing and eating. I am not in favor of you being killed and eaten.”

  “We need to talk to them, and this is the only way. Believe me, I don’t want to. I’m scared stiff.” I wasn’t exaggerating. I was terrified, but it was too late to do anything about it. I was committed to summoning the night-haunts.

  “I don’t think this is a good plan,” Connor said, reaching out to grab my wrist. “Get a better plan. A plan with less inherent death.”

  “Weren’t you mad at me a little while ago for crisping a Selkie skin?”

  “It’ll be hard to be mad at you when you’re dead, Daye.” He tightened his grip, holding on for just a beat too long before he let me go. The warmth from his fingers lingered on my skin, reassuring me.

  “Look, guys. This is going to happen, whether any of us like it or not. We may as well just try to do it right.” I rose, taking my cup as I moved to check the cupboards near the coffee machine. They were a jumbled mess, but the third one yielded an almost full container of sea salt. “Elliot was right.” I put it down on the counter before turning back to Quentin and Connor. “I’ll have all the supplies I need to make this as safe as possible. Connor, I don’t care what Sylvester says. If it looks like things are getting worse—”

  “I take Quentin and run. Got it.”

  I risked a smile. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so bad after all. I’d still worry about Quentin, but Connor provided a layer of backup that I’d been missing since leaving Shadowed Hills. All I had to do was keep myself from looking into his eyes long enough to remember why it wasn’t a good idea for me to be alone with him. “Good. Are there any chocolate donuts left in that box?”

  “Saved you two,” he said, and grinned.

  “Excellent.”

  I was halfway through the second donut when Alex came rushing back into the cafeteria, the color high in his cheeks: a man on a mission. “Toby!” he called. “Jan wants to see you.”

  “What’s up?” I put my donut down on the counter, then, regretfully, put my coffee down beside it. “Connor, Quentin, wait here. Do not go anywhere alone. I mean it. If one of you needs to pee, you go together and you leave a note. You got me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Connor, mock meekly, before shooting a glare at Alex. Quentin just snorted.

  “I’m taking that as agreement, Quentin,” I said. “Alex, lead the way.”

  “Gladly.”

  Alex led me out of the cafeteria and down the hallway to a door I didn’t recognize. Not that that meant much; I was learning some of the landmarks, but I’d given up on real navigation. He pushed it open, and I stepped through, onto a patch of lawn shaded by spreading elm trees.

  I blinked, first at the lawn, then at Alex. “Where’s Jan?”

  “Not here.” He grinned, sunlight slanting down through the trees and sparking highlights from his hair. Then there was no more talking, because he had his arms around my waist, pulling me close as he kissed me.

  The first time I kissed Alex, it was a pleasant surprise. The second time was less surprising, if no less pleasant. The third time, it was like someone had just set my hormones on overdrive. I relaxed into his arms, plastering myself against him, returning the kiss with interest. His hands came up, snarling themselves in my hair, pulling me closer still as the smell of coffee and clover rose around us, almost overwhelming the green smells of the outdoors.

  Coffee and clover. In my hotel room, I’d taken the smell to be an aftereffect of the illusion that made him look human. Here, standing on the lawn, neither of us was wearing a human disguise. Neither of us was casting any sort of spell at all. So why could I smell magic?

  Startled, I pushed myself away from him so fast that I bit my lip, breaking the skin and spreading the taste of blood across my tongue. Alex stared at me, poppy-orange eyes wide in something that looked first like confusion—and then, as my shock and outrage spread across my face, like shame.

  “Oh,” he said softly.

  “Oh?” His arms were still around my waist. I pushed him again. He didn’t let go. I pushed harder, sending him stumbling into the nearest tree as I took a few rapid, stuttering steps backward. The smell of coffee and clover was getting thicker, hanging in the air like cheap perfume. “What are you doing, Alex?”

  “Nothing! I—I’m not doing anything. Come on, Toby. Please.” He held out his hands toward me. “You just need to calm down. Come on over here.”

  I wanted to. Oh, oak and ash, I wanted to. It was like a small voice in the back of my head was saying, It’s all right. He’s not a bad guy. You want this as much as he does. You’d have wanted this anyway. Don’t be silly. Just go.

  I took a shaky step forward before I caught myself. Biting my lip again, I clung to the hot taste of my own blood like it was a lifeline, and hissed, “You stop that right now, Alex, or I swear you won’t be worrying about mysterious murderers anymore. What. Are. You. Doing?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, eyes going wide and innocent. The smell of clover was cloying, overwhelming the coffee and threatening to overwhelm even the taste of blood.

  “You know what I mean. Stop it. I don’t want this.”

  “Does it matter? If you feel it, does it matter?” He was almost pleading.

  I didn’t care. “Yes!” I balled up my hands, digging my nails into my palms and focusing on the pain. “I refuse to be in love with you!”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. He took three long steps, put his hands on my shoulders, and kissed me again.

  There was a moment of bewilderment before I realized what he was doing, and by then it was too late. The smell of coffee and clover rose, stronger than ever, and I melted into him, my body refusing to let me do anything else. I was trapped. The worst of it was that I couldn’t figure out who’d betrayed me more—him, by being whatever he was, or me, for being stupid enough to get myself caught. His hands slid down to the small of my back, pulling me closer as the taste of coffee threatened to overwhelm the taste of blood.

  It was getting harder to think about anything but ki
ssing him. Dimly, I understood that if this didn’t stop now, it wasn’t going to stop at all. We’d wind up going places I didn’t want to go, and I’d say yes every step along the way.

  Mustering what control I had left, I pulled back, only half-pretending the need to catch my breath. He loosened his grip, and I twisted my head to the side until I couldn’t see his eyes before biting down hard on my tongue. Blood filled my mouth, washing away the clover and coffee, and suddenly I could think again.

  Alex pulled away from me, sensing the danger in my sudden stiffness, and I shoved him back as hard as I could. For the second time, he went stumbling into the tree; this time, he stayed where he was, watching me warily, not advancing.

  “You bastard!” I drew Dare’s knife from my belt, holding it in front of me. I didn’t intend to use it, but I didn’t want him coming near me again. “What are you?”

  “Toby . . .” His eyes flicked from me to the blade and back again. “It isn’t . . .”

  “Shut up.” Showing an unexpected degree of self-preservation, he did as he was told. I narrowed my eyes. “Now, I’m asking you again. What are you?”

  “Scared,” he said, softly. “I’m scared, Toby. I want someone to hold me and say it’s going to be all right. Don’t you want that, too? Just for a little while?”

  For a moment, he almost had me. Then I swallowed, blood coating my tongue, and he lost me again. “Not like this. Never like this. Is this some sort of game? Do you and your sister try this routine on everyone who comes here? What kind of glamour are you using?” I was shaking, and not entirely from anger. Part of me wanted to dive right back into his arms, but I wasn’t giving in.

  He sighed, seeming to deflate. “It’s not a glamour, exactly. I’m sorry. We can’t help it. It just . . . comes naturally.”

  “And the way you act? Kissing me? That comes naturally, too?” Whatever bloodline they descended from, I never wanted to meet a pureblood.

  “It does. Toby, believe me, this isn’t something I do to every woman who comes along. I really like you. And—”

  “Don’t talk to me. You make me sick. And tell your sister that if she touches Quentin—if she comes near him—we’re leaving. Sylvester will understand when I tell him why. You got that?”