She just rolled her eyes and lapsed into silence. The car ride back to the city was quiet, with Aletta lightly dozing in the passenger’s seat.
Six
Lirim shook her back to awareness when they reached her apartment building. Yawning, she stretched, feeling her back pop.
“Want to come in? I have enough stuff for dinner for two, it’ll make up for eating your lunch today.”
He nodded and parked where she directed him. They made their way up to her apartment on the fourth floor and he waited patiently as she fished her keys out of her bag. Opening the door, she bent down and scooped up Pen before she could escape. Flicking on the light, she stepped further inside and called over her shoulder, “Come on in.”
He followed her in, taking stock of her apartment. Warm and welcoming, it was a stark contrast to his apartment. There were knickknacks and books spread throughout the living room, inviting him in. The gentle glow from the lamps made it pleasant and cozy, a place to spend time rather than a place to just live.
She motioned to the couch, with Penelope draped limply over her shoulder and purring like crazy. “Please, have a seat. I’m just going to change real quick and I’ll be right back.”
He waited until she’d entered her room before heading to the kitchen. Knowing that she was exhausted, he swiftly searched the fridge and cupboards before pulling out the ingredients to make a simple, filling meal. He’d gotten it started and was chopping up the vegetables when he heard her soft footsteps coming back down the hall.
She entered the main room and paused, surprised to find him in the kitchen. He looked her over carefully, checking to make sure that she was all right. She’d changed into a long-sleeved shirt that had been worn into comfortable softness and some loose exercise pants, leaving her feet bare. Other than looking tired, she seemed to be fine.
She found her voice after a moment and protested softly, “You don’t have to cook.”
He motioned for her to sit at the island. “It’s no bother; I’m just making a simple chicken stir-fry. I like to cook and I know that you have to be exhausted. You trained hard today.”
She glanced at him questioningly as she sat where he’d indicated.
“Don’t worry, I put up a shield as soon as we entered. After we finish this case, I’ll come over and scribe some runes throughout your apartment so it won’t be an issue in the future.”
“Ah, thanks.” She propped her elbow on the counter and leaned onto her fist, content to watch him work.
Sliding the cut mushrooms and bell peppers into the pan, he spoke quietly, “Actually, I’m glad that you invited me up. I need to talk with you.”
She swallowed. “Can it wait?”
“Well, yes, but it’s nothing bad, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She sighed tiredly, as if bracing herself. “Go ahead then.”
“I wanted to talk to you about what you did today. I don’t think you fully grasp the magnitude of what you accomplished. My aunt is one of the strongest Sheridans alive today. Even though she technically wasn’t there, her magic still defended her. In the end, that’s why the mind healers gave up. But her magic didn’t attack you, it welcomed you in and allowed you to heal her.”
She shrugged daintily. “Maybe it’s because we have similar magic.”
He shook his head firmly. “Other Sheridans have tried to reach her, only to be harshly rebuffed. You were not only able to reach her but healed her as well.”
“We don’t know if she’s truly healed. This might just be temporary.”
He gave her a questioning look, vaguely wondering why she was being so contrary. “She’s healed. I’m not explaining this very well. My aunt is my father’s sister. They’re very close to each other and she’s been a large part of my life since I was born. She’s one of the brightest lights I know, a shining beacon to our people.”
He stirred the meal, a troubled look on his face. “One of my greatest shames is that I didn’t notice her light dimming. What occurred to her didn’t happen overnight, but I was so caught up in training that I didn’t see her struggling. When she collapsed, I was away from the Glade, but I’d talked with her just the week before and hadn’t noticed how thin she’d become. When I got the news, I was devastated. The whole family was.”
Seeing that the meal was close to completion, she rose and fetched plates and cutlery.
Lirim nodded his thanks and cleared his throat. “At first, we thought that the healers would be able to sort her out quickly and with some rest, she’d be as good as new. But as time passed, that hope became less and less until it disappeared altogether. Then you touched her and her light was suddenly burning brightly again. She will not relapse, at least not anytime in the near future, and we will all be on guard to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”
Turning off the stove, he neatly plated the meal. Aletta’s stomach rumbled as she picked up her fork and she chuckled ruefully. “It smells delicious. Thank you.”
He sat across from her, but didn’t touch his food. “What I’m trying to get at, in albeit a roundabout fashion, is that I would like to offer you Gealltanas.”
Aletta looked up at him in shock, feeling her eyes go wide. Her knowledge of Fae culture was admittedly sparse, but even she had heard of Gealltanas. It was a pledge of brotherhood and protection, one that could only be broken by death. And, if she remembered right, it was invoked when one Fae felt deeply indebted to another. Dropping her eyes back to her plate, she said merely, “No.”
He went completely still across from her, but she steadfastly ignored him, pushing her food around on her plate, suddenly no longer hungry. He asked carefully, “May I ask why? Have I offended you somehow?”
Her frustration, which had been simmering for the past several days, suddenly burst to the surface. Meeting his eyes again, she gestured furiously with her fork. “This whole situation is wrong. We’ve barely known each other for three days! I don’t know you; you don’t know me. I’m glad that I was able to help Awena, I really am, but it wasn’t out of some altruistic purpose. I did it because she could help me. I’ve been stuck with this magic that I never expected or wanted to have. I was scared and she was the only one that could possibly help me.”
He started to speak, but she kept speaking, talking right over whatever it was he was going to say. “I didn’t want a partner, but I’ve tried to make the best of this situation. I know that I’m not exactly what you wanted in a partner either. But some psycho on a power trip is out there killing people, so I told myself to be an adult and deal with it. But I’ve reached my limit. I refuse to be bound to someone because they feel guilty about something that happened years ago. I will not be bound to someone for the rest of our lives because they feel like they owe me.” Her voice softened abruptly and she set down the fork. “I will not do that.”
Surprisingly, her explosion seemed to make him relax, understanding entering his eyes. He checked to make sure that she was done, and when she didn’t say anything more, he spoke. “I understand, I would never force you into anything. But I forgot that humans have a skewed view of Gealltanas. Gealltanas is not a bond forged where one party is indebted to others. Rather, it is a bond between equals, between companions that are closer than brothers. It is saying that no matter what happens, you’ll always have my back and I’ll have yours.”
She opened her mouth and he powered on, “Please, let me finish. As I said, it is a bond between equals. However, you make a valid point that we’ve only known each other for three days. I am not going to retract the offer, but you don’t have to make a decision now or ever. Just know that it’s still there, no pressure, no strings attached. And just so you know, I’m content with you as my partner, even before we found out about your gift and all the ensuing craziness.”
Feeling drained, Aletta slumped back into her seat. She muttered, “Eat your dinner.” He did as she said and she sighed. Rubbing her face tiredly, she apologized, “I’m sorry for yelling. I’m
just so tired and frustrated by all of this. So much has changed suddenly and I’m having trouble finding my bearings. Nothing is normal anymore, but I haven’t been able to take any time to just process things because someone’s killing people for some abstruse reason that we haven’t been able to uncover.”
She took a bite, taking time to gather her thoughts. “I’m glad that you see us as equals. In fact, I’m flattered. However, I still am going to decline Gealltanas. It’s a big decision and I don’t want to rush into it. And I will admit, it hasn’t been totally terrible having you as a partner.” She winked and he rolled his eyes. Changing the subject, she asked, “So, what was it like growing up with Awena as an aunt?”
“Oh, the stories I could tell you.” The rest of the meal was spent in lighthearted conversation as they swapped stories from their childhoods. However, Aletta’s yawns grew more frequent and Lirim quickly excused himself after the meal was over.
She saw him out and locked the door firmly behind him. Feeling Pen winding around her ankles, she scooped her up and yawned again. “Come on, love. Let’s get some sleep. I have an early morning again tomorrow.”
* . * . *
Lirim made his way to his car, mentally turning over everything that had happened that evening. He’d been shocked to hear himself offering Gealltanas, but knew in his gut that it was the right course of action. Although they’d been partnered for only three days, he felt an unmistakable connection with her, something that had been lacking with all of his other partners. The fact that she’d healed his aunt was just a bonus to him.
Speaking of which, his family needed to know. Pulling out his phone, he dialed a number and held his breath while it rang. When a masculine voice answered the phone, he let the trapped breath out and spoke, “Father, I have something to tell you.”
Seven
Aletta’s eyes flew open and she sprang out of bed, fully awake. Ignoring the bright 3:07 am on her bedside clock, she rushed to get dressed. She needed to get to the department right now.
Tripping over Penelope, she hastily dumped some food in the cat’s dish before snagging her keys and dashing out the door. She needed to get to the department’s library and see if her hunch was correct. This could be the break that she needed.
* . * . *
Lirim woke with the sun and did his normal morning meditation. After the week that he’d had so far, he’d needed that hour to center himself. Feeling relaxed after his hour of meditation, he took his time getting ready, figuring that Aletta needed all the extra rest she could get. He hadn’t been teasing her when he’d commented on the dark circles under her eyes yesterday.
He made his way over to the side table where his weapons lay. He liked to go over his weapons twice a week minimum, daily if possible. Lirim found the routine settling: checking to make sure that none of his daggers had lost their edge and were well cleaned, as well as making sure that his gun was in working order. He picked up the gun first, settling it into his belt holster. Guns were his least favorite weapon. He preferred daggers over firearms, although truthfully most of the time he needed neither, having been rigorously been trained in hand-to-hand combat.
Magic could sometimes have unpredictable effects on guns, causing them to misfire or jam. His HSI-issued gun had been specially manufactured to deal with this problem, but it was too expensive to modify most guns. He disliked having a weapon that had the possibility of becoming a liability, no matter how small. However, it was required, so he reluctantly carried it.
Next, he moved on to the daggers. Many people called him paranoid because of the amount he carried. However, after the war, he started getting antsy if he didn’t have several daggers on him or available at any given time. Sometimes one dagger was enough to make the difference. Lirim picked up his two wrist daggers and took a moment to appreciate their balance before settling them into their sheaths. In his opinion, there was nothing worse than an off- balance weapon, although he had had to make do at times.
Satisfied that his throwing knives were secure, he picked up his pure steel dagger. This one was a little longer, useful for when he needed a little extra reach. Pure steel also worked on most creatures that normal weaponry wouldn’t. Lirim slid it into the sheath next to his gun, where it would be easily accessible in case of an emergency. This dagger and his gun were the only visible weapons he carried; all the rest were carefully designed to be invisible beneath his clothing. It was hard to get a sheath that lay just right, but he had spent the time and money making sure that he had the best.
Next came the silver coated dagger. This was his most expensive one, but not because of the metal. Silver was too soft to be used as a weapon and wouldn’t maintain a proper edge. Lirim’s lip curled in disdain at the fools who used silver and gold for their ceremonial weapons. Of what use would those fancy pieces be if they came under attack? No, this dagger was a hardmetal mix with a coating of silver on top. This was a hard thing to achieve, as you had to reconcile weight and balance. If you applied too much silver, it would be heavy and unwieldy; not enough, and it wouldn’t even faze the super. If you didn’t apply it evenly, it left you with an unbalanced knife, which was worse than useless in Lirim’s opinion. He slid it into the sheath at the nape of the neck. For some reason, that’s where shifters liked to attack first, so it offered him some slight protection.
He picked up the last dagger from the table and eyed it, making sure that he’d sharpened it fully. This was his smallest dagger, barely four inches long. However, it was pure iron. Because his magic came from the earth, iron didn’t bother him, but for some Fae it was the most potent poison. He carefully slid it into his ankle holster, making sure that the sheath was positioned properly.
Double checking that all of the weapons were secure, he glanced at his cell phone absently, preparing to slip it into his pocket.
He was surprised to see a text; he hadn’t heard the phone beep. It was from Aletta and marked three hours ago: “Get to the department as soon as you can. I think I found what he’s after.”
He swore and quickly checked that he had everything before rushing out the door, slamming it behind him. She knew that she was in danger and wasn’t supposed to go anywhere without him!
Wait, she wasn’t aware of that. Oh yeah, it was the captain’s idea to keep it from her, and he’d stupidly gone along with it. She was going to have his hide when she found out he’d kept that from her.
He completed his drive in record time and stormed into the office, anxiously searching for Aletta. He didn’t see her, but Tala made his way over and shoved a coffee at him. “She’s in the archives, been there all morning. You’ll need this if you want to have an intelligible conversation with her. Everyone else has just gotten grunts.”
Lirim accepted the coffee and turned away, but the Lycan’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Tell me truthfully. Something big is going on with her. She’ll tell me what it is eventually if she’s able, but promise me that she’ll be okay, that you’ll take care of her.”
Lirim nodded decisively. “You have my word.”
Tala released his shoulder. “Good, I’ll hold you to that. Now go see if you can figure out what she’s doing.”
Lirim nodded and made his way to the basement where the library archive was located. He found her cloistered in a back corner of the room at one of the huge tables, books scattered and stacked all around her. One stack was so high that he could barely see her behind it.
He called, “Leta, you back there?”
She pushed the stack aside and frowned distractedly. “There you are. What took you so long? I sent you a text hours ago.”
He held out the coffee and she snagged it gratefully. Taking a long sip, she sighed contently. “Where did you get this?”
“Tala gave it to me. How long have you been here? Did you get any sleep at all?”
She waved his questions aside. “Doesn’t matter. I think I’ve figured out what our perp wants.” Digging under a stack of books, she found the ph
oto that she was looking for and slid it over to him.
He took it and examined it carefully. “It’s the statue that the dryad pawned. I’d forgotten about that.” He sat, sliding a couple of stacks aside so he could see her better, absently noting that the circles under her eyes were even darker, confirming her lack of sleep.
“I did too. After that jerk hit me and then the second dead body, it totally slipped my mind. Your aunt mentioned it yesterday too, but after everything else, I was just too drained. I was so focused on the statue and dryads that I forgot to look at the big picture.”
“So what is the big picture?”
“What type of dryad she is. As I’m sure you already know, there are several types, but she’s a Meliades, as indicated by her last name of Malus. Now, why is this important you ask? Perhaps the name Hesperides might ring a bell.”
“The keepers of the golden apples?” She waited, her gaze expectant, and the answer clicked. “He wants the golden apples?”
“The Hesperides guarded other treasures as well, but my gut says that he’s after the apples.”
He held up the picture. “But how does the statue tie into the golden apples?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. As it turns out, young dryads tend to be wanderers in their early years. This statue is an ancient artifact. Carved from the heartwood of the first apple tree, it guides wandering dryads to other groves where they might rest in safety. No matter how well hidden the grove is, it will always take them there. Now, if the statue is on land held by dryads, it cannot be touched or removed by any outsiders. However, once off dryad land, it is no longer protected and can be taken by anyone who wants it.”
“If it’s that important, why did they pawn it?”
“I had Ian do some digging. The dryads here are in dire straits. Someone has been polluting their land. They have to pay exorbitant amounts to get the toxic waste cleaned up. Dryads cannot live without their trees or land, so they were forced to pawn their treasures so their people wouldn’t die. Ian’s looking into whomever is poisoning the land, but my guess would be our killer.”
In Search of Justice Page 9