To Kill the Dead (Hollowcliff Detectives Book 3)

by C. S. Wilde

  Mera scoffed. “You’re not serious.” Then she remembered Ruth Maurea was always serious. “No way.”

  “You’ll investigate this case with Julian, cookie. I’m confident you’ll catch the rogue witch or warlock who started this shitshow.”

  Mera couldn’t tell how she felt about that.

  Nervous? Upset?

  Drop-dead terrified?

  Maybe all of those together.

  “Respectfully, Captain, she won’t,” Bast objected, his lips a thin line and his nostrils flaring. “Mera is my partner.”

  “I never imagined you as the possessive type, Detective Dhay.” She spoke calmly, as if they were discussing the weather. “Did you hear I had to reassign two detectives last week because they were romantically involved?”

  A void swallowed the air in Mera’s lungs. “Who?” She pushed, trying to catch the captain out in a lie.

  “Deanna and Troi.”

  Yeah, they’d been together for a while.

  “We’re not involved,” she lied, faking confidence, but Ruth had always been able to read her like an open book.

  When the Cap raised an eyebrow, Mera knew she had to take another route. Hopefully, logic would further her case.

  “Bast and I work better as a team. We have the best solve rate in all the precincts, so we should work this case together. A necromancer is no joke, Cap.”

  “You were great with Julian, too.”

  “Not as good as I am with Bast, and you know it.” She turned to her partner and smiled. “Bast brings out the best in me. He challenges me, and he has my back. Not that Julian didn’t!” she quickly added. “It’s just… Bast and I went through a lot, and we’re better detectives for it.”

  ‘Don’t take him away,’ her siren begged.

  Ruth’s sharp eyes observed her and Bast a moment longer. Mera gulped, trying to hide the jitters that shivered down to her knees.

  “As I’ve said,” the Cap continued, “you’ll work this case with Julian. I would hate to report a romantic entanglement between the two detectives whose achievements kick-started the borough interchange program. Is that clear?”

  “I can’t accept this, Captain.” Bast’s voice sounded cordial, but rage sizzled through their mind link.

  “I don’t care if you accept it or not. Mera was Julian’s partner before. They had a great solve rate, and I want her working with him on this one. Period.” Ruth faced him head on, every bit the mighty lioness that had made her captain. “Besides, I need your help with another case.”

  “Another case?” Mera frowned. “What is it?”

  “State secret. Only Detective Dhay is to be briefed.”

  “Damn it, Ruth. If you’re taking my partner from me, I need to know why.”

  “You need to know? Yes. Will you? No.” She lifted her chin at Bast. “You may stay in the hotel the precinct booked for you, but you’ll come here only when required. You will not, at any time, work or consult with Detective Maurea. Understood?”

  Ha! Joke was on her. Ruth couldn’t stop them from talking. They shared a mind link, so communicating incognito would be pretty easy.

  “Isn’t this a waste of resources?” Bast suggested, his composure astounding Mera. After all, ‘Bast’ and ‘composure’ rarely went together in the same sentence. “Assigning a case in Clifftown to a Sidhe who isn’t familiar with your borough might be a pointless enterprise. What does Asherath think about this?”

  One of the many things Mera liked about Bast was his balls. Not literally, of course, since she hadn’t seen them, but his figurative balls were ginormous. She doubted anyone had ever defied Ruth Maurea the way he did just then.

  The Cap didn’t bat an eye. “Captain Asherath has agreed to my decision. You can double check through the mind link you share.”

  Bast closed his eyes.

  “Kura,” he grumbled after a moment. Kura was a nasty way to say ‘shit’ in Faeish, so yeah, Asherath was in on it, too.

  Crap. They couldn’t go against two captains.

  “Glad it’s all clear.” Ruth tapped her fingers on the wooden table. “Mera, Julian is already at the hospital, waiting to take the victim’s testimony. Go join him.”

  A part of her didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave Bast. Yet, talking to Julian had been one of the reasons why she’d returned to Clifftown.

  She also dreaded it with a fury. Her former partner—turned current partner for the time being—must hate her for disappearing on him.

  Working together could be… complicated.

  “What about Bast?” She motioned to him. “He needs a partner to watch his back.”

  “He worked alone for years before we paired you two. I’m confident he’ll be fine.” Ruth waved Mera away. “Off you go, cookie.”

  Mera bit her tongue to hold back a retort. The Cap had no right to call her cookie after pulling this nonsense.

  Ruth had raised her from the age of thirteen, but Mera had never used that fact to gain favor in the precinct, even though she was legally Ruth’s daughter. Within those walls, her status matched that of any other officer’s, but right then, she really wished it didn’t.

  If only she could ask Ruth to drop this bone…

  She also, knew better.

  Turning on her chair, she faced Bast. “Will you be okay?”

  He kept staring at Ruth in a stern way that only increased his appeal. “Peachy, kitten. Go solve this case, and I’ll solve mine. Then we can go back to how things were. Isn’t that right, Captain?”

  Ruth grimaced as if chewing something bitter. “Yes. As I’ve said from the beginning, this is a temporary solution. Once the cases are over, you two can work together again.”

  Mera knew this, of course—Ruth’s word was her bond, so she shouldn’t worry—but it still felt oddly permanent.

  Standing from her chair, she went to leave. Yet as the door closed behind her, Mera sensed nothing would ever be the same again.

  Chapter 4

  Halle fuchst ach!

  Returning to Clifftown had been a terrible idea. If he and Mera had stayed in Tir Na Nog or been relocated to another borough to solve a crime, he wouldn’t have lost his partner.

  Temporarily, he assured himself.

  Mera wanted to go back home for at least one case, and Bast had been against it, mostly because he knew the real reason why. Surely, she missed her family and friends, but she also missed her former partner.

  Julian. Fucking. Smith.

  Up until then, it had always been Bast and Mera against the world. But in the human borough, he would have to share his kitten with her colleagues and the captain.

  With that shig, too.

  Bast didn’t need their mind link to know that Mera and the human had unfinished business. He also knew that avoiding the unavoidable was a mad faerie’s game.

  His family did have a history with madness, however…

  Bast hoped she only needed closure, but deep down he worried she might need a lot more than that. The mere possibility shrunk his heart, and left a sour taste on his tongue.

  Mera couldn’t deny their connection, couldn’t choose another male over him.

  Could she?

  The Captain waved at him, pulling Bast away from his thoughts. “Earth to Sebastian.”

  “My apologies.” Keeping his tone even, he interlocked his fingers in his lap. “How may I be of service?”

  The old human stood from her chair and leaned against the edge of her mahogany table. “I know what you did.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “You killed twenty Summer Sidhe to keep Mera’s secret. You know she’s a waterbreaker, and I should shoot an iron bullet straight through your heart for that.”

  Bast gulped, fidgeting in his seat. “It seems you’ve killed to protect her before.”

  “In a way. Though I could never reach your body count.”

  “So, why didn’t you? Put a bullet through my heart, I mean.”

  The
Captain glared at him as if he was daft. “Because you killed twenty faeries for her. You put yourself at great risk to protect my girl, and that, Sebastian Dhay, is why you’re in here.”

  Ruth Maurea had caught his attention, but now she had his interest.

  “I wanted to thank you for the sacrifices you’ve made. Few in this country would help a siren, let alone keep her secret.” The woman’s mouth contorted into a bitter curve that accentuated her wrinkles, almost as if she wasn’t accustomed to thanking someone. “I also know about Poseidon, and that he might have given you the Crown of Land and Sea.”

  “How the—”

  “Captain Asherath.”

  Fuck if Bast would ever tell that sarking suket anything again.

  He and Mera were supposed to keep their investigation a secret until they had proof, but Asherath knew Bast through and through. His captain figured he was hiding something the minute he arrived from Lunor Insul.

  Asherath could be worse than a leprechaun with a lucky charm, so Bast eventually caved—about Poseidon, not Mera.

  Never about Mera.

  “I’d assumed I could trust my captain,” he remarked coldly. “It seems I was wrong.”

  “Don’t blame him. He wants what’s best for you. He and I both agree that you need to dig deeper into this, but I insisted on leaving Mera out of it for her own good. You can understand why.”

  “The case might link back to sirens.”

  “Not exactly.” The Captain walked over to the window, where she watched the city through the glass. “Mera’s mother used to say that Mera was born of Poseidon, which is the same alias this criminal is using. Queen Ariella might have been mad, but I didn’t get to where I am today by ignoring coincidences.” She turned her gaze on him. “Understand?”

  Actually, he did.

  “Captain, I would like nothing more than to catch the malachai, but I don’t have any leads. Except…”

  “Except what?”

  “The Crown of Land and Sea,” he muttered. “Certain psychics can pull impressions from objects. It’s a stretch, but with some luck, I could get something on Poseidon.”

  “Could this really work?”

  “Unlikely, but there are no options left.” He scratched his temple. “A magical enhancer could help me track him, but those are impossible to find nowadays. A psychic is the next best choice. I’ll talk to my contact, see if she can pull something from the crown.”

  The Captain nodded. “Proof, Detective. That’s all we need to start an official case. Just make sure none of it links back to Mera.”

  Of course. It’s why the Captain had chosen him for this investigation. She knew Bast would die before putting Mera in danger, though how she could be so certain remained a mystery to him.

  “Can you winnow out of the borough?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’ll be weak because of the barrier that protects Clifftown from outside magic, but I’ll manage.”

  “Good.” She returned to her desk and sat on her leather chair, focusing on some papers scattered atop the wooden surface. “You may go.”

  Bast moved to the door, but stopped before opening it. “You are Mera’s mother, by the way.”

  She arched a graying eyebrow at him. “Beg your pardon?”

  “You referred to Queen Ariella as Mera’s mother. She was her birth-giver, yes, but that’s all she was. You raised her. You gave her a life and a future.”

  And for that, he could never thank Ruth Maurea enough.

  The Captain stared at him. “My kid never called me the M-word, so I assumed—”

  “The fact that you never pushed it on Mera shows how much you love her,” he continued. “To her, the M-word, as you put it, relates to pain and suffering. She doesn’t want that tied to you. That’s why she avoids calling you ‘Mother’.”

  When Mera told him about her past, Bast wished he had killed Queen Ariella himself. Slowly, of course, so the monster suffered.

  As he’d helped his partner practice control over their mind link, he’d caught glimpses of what she’d gone through in Atlantea, glimpses that made him want to rip the queen’s head off her body, then cradle Mera and never let go. Yet, after each flash came a rush of happiness and warmth, memories that overshadowed the pain, growing like new foliage atop the wreckage left by the queen. All those memories had one face attached to them.

  The Captain’s.

  “Mera doesn’t need to say the word,” he added. “You are her mother.”

  Maybe he was hallucinating, but he thought he saw her eyes glisten with tears. Clearing her throat, the Captain focused on her papers and waved him away.

  “Off you go, Detective.”

  As soon as Bast winnowed into the promenade of Tir Na Nog, he fell on his back, his mind spinning.

  It felt like a mountain had settled on his chest, trying to crush every inch of him. Lifting a single finger seemed an impossible task, but slowly, his hand crawled to the messenger’s bag strapped across his torso—and the crown safely tucked inside it.

  He breathed in relief, slowly regaining his bearings.

  The salty tang of the ocean ventured inside his nostrils, the warmth of the sun caressing his skin. The sky above was a fierce blue, unmarred by clouds.

  Mera’s favorite type of day.

  Bast sighed, wishing he could be closer to her and not boroughs apart. Maybe she sensed his longing, because an anxious tug pulled at their mind link, coming from her side.

  “I’m fine, kitten,” he assured her.

  “Where are you?” Her tone sounded muffled, as if she was speaking through a closed door.

  “In Tir Na Nog. Looking into the Captain’s case.”

  “I figured she would send you on a rabbit chase.” Her laugh brushed against his essence, the sensation coming through a lot clearer than her words.

  He couldn’t explain why, but sometimes Bast felt Mera in his core, almost as if she were standing right next to him, and at the same time, being a part of him. It certainly differed from the other mind links he’d shared with those he cared about.

  “I don’t understand why Ruth separated us,” she added quietly.

  “I do. It’s for a good cause.”

  “Is it? Call me intrigued, partner.”

  He wanted nothing more than to keep talking to her, but Mera had a necromancer to catch, and he… Bast patted the messenger’s bag. He had a shig to put behind bars.

  “I have to go.”

  “Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Watch your back, okay?”

  Technically, his mission was about watching her back. Protecting Mera from Poseidon was the only thing that mattered.

  “By the way,” she added, “I’ll send for reinforcements. A detective should always have a partner.” A playful wink flashed in his mind, her soothing essence caressing his own.

  “Reinforcements?”

  Bast saw, no, he felt, their intertwined hands breaking apart. The other side of the link went quiet.

  Well, he had no time to figure out what she’d meant. He had leads to chase, and a date with a psychic.

  Pulling himself up, he patted the dirt from his white shirt with a gray vest and pants—his detective’s uniform—before heading down the promenade.

  The path was lined with market stalls of a thousand colors and sizes. The enticing riot of smells, colors, and food called to him. Merchants shouted their offers in the wind, their voices clashing into one rowdy plethora. Some even addressed him directly.

  “Detective! Perhaps a spell to help you solve cases?”

  “Detective! A manatorian cricket to bring you good luck!”

  Ignoring them, he searched for Madam Zukova’s tent, when a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder. Bast swiveled on his heels, fists raised and ready to fight, only to face none other than king Malachai himself.

  “What are you doing here, Corvus?”

  His brother’s yellow eyes gleamed, the sun turning his bark-colored skin into a dark amber. He wasn’t wearing his crown
, probably to avoid drawing attention, but he did wear a black fitted suit and white sneakers that coordinated with his shirt. Corvus’ spiky white hair had grown in a thousand different directions around his head, but not enough to cover his pointy ears.

  “Nice to see you too, brother.” He pulled a mobile phone from his pocket, pinching it between his fingers as if touching it disgusted him. “Your partner gave me this device before leaving Lunor Insul. I didn’t approve of it at first, but it’s a genius invention, really. She ‘called’ me, and we spoke! From miles apart! It’s the humans’ way of having mind links. All you need is their ‘phone number’.”

  Corvus acted as if he’d practically discovered fae mead, and Bast couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “The detective called me moments ago to tell me you arrived in Tir Na Nog to pursue a case without her,” he went on. “She also asked if I could make sure you were safe, so I followed our mind link to your location.” He sniffed the air around Bast, his nose wrinkling. “You stink of fumes and dirt, by the way. Typical human smell, isn’t it?”

  “How would you know? You’ve never been to the human borough, you baku.” He clicked his tongue. “Also, since when have you kept me safe?”

  Corvus’ playfulness faded. “Only once, as I recall.”

  Once. When he’d killed Leon, their big brother, to save Bast.

  Before Bast could apologize, Corvus waved his hand dismissively. “The detective thought I was fit for the job, and I intend on honoring her faith in me.” He narrowed his eyes at him. “Winnowing from Clifftown is a remarkable feat, I hear. They have a magic barrier surrounding the place. I’m surprised you made it through. Ben says hi, by the way.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of the barrier,” Bast grumbled under his breath. “It’s why I had to lay on the ground for a while. Getting out of there nearly knocked me out.”

  “As it should. Winnowing is my magic’s specialty, not yours.” Corvus shrugged. “Remarkable progress, nonetheless. So, what’s new?” He glanced down at the messenger’s bag slung across Bast’s torso, peeking through the half open latch. With a gasp, he stepped back. “Sakala mi! I saw you toss that thing into the ocean!”

  “It came back.”