by S A Archer
Flames crackled around Lugh’s fists. The snarling of the dark edge of his soul rolled through his magic, unbalancing the light which had given him patience. “Don’t do this.” He warned, his voice deepening. In as much as he knew the Aesir respected an opponent willing to fight, this conflict wasted time and got him nowhere.
Heimdall laughed at him, raising his chin in challenge. Everything, from his smile to his raised blade screamed his determination to thwart Lugh, just for the enjoyment of it. He stomped down with one great boot, shattering the ground in radiating cracks all around him.
Twisting in a leap as he avoided the shaking of the ground, Lugh spotted his landing. He slammed down on the end of a plank half hanging off the back of a cart, and flung a heavy chain resting over the other end into the air. Using the force of his plasma bolts to strike at the chain too heavy for him to lift, he strategically fired at both ends. One end whipped up to wrap around the metal hoist dangling from the front of the blacksmith’s shop. The other end twisted around Heimdall’s blade. The superheated chain half melted and re-solidified with Lugh’s command over the temperature.
The acrobatic maneuver and clever execution were gracefully Seelie, and brought a laugh from the crowd. Something that just seemed to annoy Heimdall even more. Especially when he couldn’t break his sword from the chain melted into it, nor wrench the other end of the chain from the hoist. He snarled, which was more frightening than his smile. “You really want me to kill you, don’t you?”
“You know what I want!” Lugh snapped at him. “If you won’t listen, then I demand an audience with Odin!”
A hush fell like a shroud over the crowd.
Heimdall flung down his ruined sword. “As you wish, elf.” His voice dropped to an unsettling dark whisper.
The bystanders drifted away, leaving Lugh to follow after the long strides of Heimdall. At the sound of a whistle, he glanced back at the shopkeeper who’d offered him the pastry. She pitched it at him and Lugh snatched it from the air. He saluted her with it, and started eating at as he marched on. He’d not taken the time to eat since before seeking out Bast and his next opportunity for food was uncertain. Although, the complaints of his body were the least of his concerns.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Is this some kind of joke?” Kieran crouched next to the body as the copper held away the blanket so he could see the dead girl with the fake elf ears underneath.
“Not a joke.” The detective tossed the covering back down. Then he rose to stand before Tiernan, handing him a flier. “A group called the ‘Fey Bangers’ played here last night. Everyone at the show was given fake ears.”
“A band?” Kieran pushed himself up to standing, then accepted the flier. He scanned all the faces, recognizing every one of the fey, especially the drummer. “Malcolm.”
“I called you in T, because this girl is on your client roster. I recognized her from your place.” The detective gave that serious cop-look to each of the men that had accompanied Tiernan to the scene of the crime. “Coroner’s good with calling this a heart attack, although he can’t pinpoint the cause. Something about a sudden system shock. I figured it might be magical, since you know her.”
Tiernan’s eyes fixed on the image of Malcolm. “That would be my guess.”
The detective shifted, and then added, “I might have just dismissed it, if she were the only one.”
His expression hardening, Tiernan lifted his focus to the man. “There are more?”
He nodded. “Three others across the county with the same strange sudden death. And the evidence each time points to them not being alone when they died.” The detective handed a list of names to Tiernan. “They’re all Touch clients of yours. And as one of the enchanted myself, you can bet this concerns me.”
“We’ll handle it.” Tiernan handed off the list to Joe. “The bloodhound’s gone feral.”
Someone stepped out as they drew closer to the end of the alley. Any pleasure he took at seeing Kaitlin again, the circumstances, and her grave look, tempered it.
She hugged herself as if chilled, and the realization that Malcolm had finally gone feral was chilling. The lad had never been the poster child for stability, but without Donovan to anchor him, he’d completely lost it. The expression on Kaitlin’s face was a blending of worry and sadness as she walked up to Kieran and buried her face to his chest. His arms circled her automatically, drawing her into his easy embrace. “I’m worried about Malcolm,” she admitted, mumbling into his shirt.
“We all are,” he assured her.
“He didn’t come home last night.” She turned her face up to Kieran’s. “He’s been strange since he and I…” She faltered, “Since I…”
Kieran had spent one night with Kaitlin, when she first came to the Glamour Club. It hadn’t gone as well as either of them had hoped and now he knew why. They were both Leannan Sidhe. And like vampires can’t get living blood from drinking from one another, they hadn’t either of them been able to satisfy their needs with each other. But her magic, being able to draw in the energy from music and from a crowd at a concert, gave her an advantage that he didn’t have. Kieran had tried to connect with Malcolm, but the Touch was something the bloodhound rarely offered. And Kieran only recently came to understand why.
“You didn’t do this to Malcolm,” Kieran reassured her. “He’s been damaged for a long time.”
“And being a bloodhound has only made it worse,” Tiernan added.
“Kaitlin?” Riley, who’d lingered behind, now rushed to catch up to them. “Baby?” He rushed for her, reaching to gather her into his arms. Kaitlin’s slap across his face ended that attempt. Dropping back a step, his voice still pleaded. “Saints, I thought you were dead.” He reached for her. “Please, baby.”
“You know her?” Kieran narrowed his eyes, shouldering between the two before Kaitlin could haul back the fist she’d made and deck the human.
Feeling all eyes on him, Riley backed away. He bumped against the wall and leaned back as if it might fall away and give him an escape. “We dated.”
“You lied!” She made a rush for him, fist raised.
Tiernan hooked an arm around her waist, lifting her from her feet, holding her back.
She didn’t stop screaming at Riley. “You work for Manannan! All along, you were just playing with my mind! You and Lugh! The Mounds Collapsed because of you! My sister died because of you!”
Slicing at the air with his hands like he could fight away the accusations, he said, “Manannan’s dead! I don’t know what happened but it’s over.”
“Manannan’s not dead!” Kaitlin jumped and struggled to break Tiernan’s hold, but he wouldn’t release her. “He pulled me out of the Mounds as the world rained down over us! He gave me to wizards to drain me of my magic!”
Fingers crushed to his temples, Riley shook his head. “No… No… Manannan died.”
“He didn’t!”
“He died!” Riley pushed away from the wall. “He wouldn’t have abandoned me, if he hadn’t!” Snatching at the front of his shirt as if he meant to tear it open, he screamed, “He wouldn’t have left me to suffer!”
Joe cut in. “He left you to the wizards.”
The pain flashed across Riley’s face with realization.
“He betrayed you Riley,” Kaitlin ground the realization into him like salt into the wound. “Just like you and Lugh betrayed me!”
“Lugh?” Riley shook his head, squinting with confusion. “Lugh wasn’t involved.”
“Yes, he was!”
“No!” Riley straightened and snapped back. “He wasn’t! That’s why we needed to distract him.”
Kieran flattened his palm against Riley’s sternum, keeping him back. “You and Manannan?”
“Me and Kaitlin. That was always the plan. Ke
ep Kaitlin safely away from the Mounds. Keep Lugh out of the way. That was all Manannan commanded of me. The only thing.”
Kaitlin stopped struggling against Tiernan, slumping a little against him. “He wasn’t?”
“The Champion would have gotten in the way.” Riley wasn’t meeting anyone’s gaze now.
Tiernan eased back his embrace, holding Kaitlin softly to him. “Manannan’s alive and Lugh’s working with him now. Donovan believed it. Accused him of it.”
Riley raked his fingers through his hair. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Things change. The Seelie might bicker, but they will stick together in the end. Same as the Unseelie. And with the new realm in the Unseelie control, you can bloody well bet they have a common interest now.”
A long stare passed between Riley and Kaitlin. A lot unsaid on both sides. The air grew heavy with it.
At a meaningful nod from Tiernan, Joe gripped Riley’s shoulder and started him away. “We’ll wait by the car. Come on, druid.”
“Don’t call me that.” Riley shrugged off the grip, but followed Joe’s lead anyway.
Tiernan watched them go. Only when they were gone did he return his attention to the woman in his arms. “You dated a human?”
She pushed away from him and swiped at her moist cheeks with her palms, not giving in to the frustrated tears that trailed down her face. “Long story.”
The romantic details didn’t matter. “Do you have any idea where the bloodhound’s gone?”
She shook her head. “None.”
Tiernan turned his head toward Kieran. “Call him. Set up a meet.” He angled his head back towards the body. “This carnage ends now.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
London thought for certain that she’d beat the hung-over Peyton to the coffee shop, and end up wasting most of her morning wondering if he would ever drag his bum out of bed, much less remember to meet her. So when she found him waiting, bright and early, with a newspaper spread out before him and half his coffee already gone, she didn’t even bother to disguise her surprise. She grabbed herself a tall mocha before joining him at the window booth. “I thought a crowbar was going to be needed to get you up and moving, after last night.”
Peyton didn’t even have the slightest smudge under his eyes to give away the heavy partying he’d been doing. He honestly looked bright-eyed and well rested. A trick that didn’t seem to be magically induced. He folded the paper and tossed it aside on the table, then pulled a plastic card from the pocket of his slacks and slid it across to her. “You’ll be needing this.”
The card was an ID badge, complete with her name and a copy of her passport photo. “This looks legit,” She commented, surprised at the quality of the forgery.
“It is.” Peyton gave her a too-pleased smile that sent up all her warning flags. “The magnetic strip on the back will get you anywhere you want to go. Just tap it to the wall scanner.
London narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do I get the feeling that you are up to something?”
Peyton’s chuckle was genuinely amused that she’d called him out. “Because I am. But don’t worry. You’ll like it.” He got up, abandoned his coffee, and started for the door. “You ready for your first day on the job, recruit?”
“Recruit?” She followed his lead, grabbing up the badge and fastening it to her belt loop, just as Peyton wore his.
Again with that self-satisfied smirk. “You work for Manannan, you work for us.” He held open the door for her, and then led her across the street toward a massive corporate building. “He is the founding father of the organization, or didn’t you know?”
Was he pulling her leg? Or playing her? She couldn’t get a good read on him, since he completely changed his attitude towards her. “Do tell,” she replied, noncommittally.
“Who do you think taught the wizards how to strip the magic from the fey in the first place?” There was certainly something more in the glint of his eyes and the shadow of his smirk. Something he was a little too pleased about. “Manannan taught his druids the art. Or didn’t you know that the wizards have always been Manannan’s druids, since the beginning.” He quirked a grin that seemed to say he knew exactly what she thought about that. “Savage, right?”
Although ‘savage’ was a slang term for ‘cool’, when she replied it wasn’t that meaning she referred to. “Savage, indeed.”
Peyton chuckled, and there was just a hint of the underlying pain she’d picked up from him the night before. “Welcome to my life. The corporation is like the mafia. There is no retirement and no walking away. When you are in, you’re in for life.”
London allowed Peyton to take the lead, trailing half a pace behind him. Acutely aware of the small hand gun at her lower back and the magical thief’s gloves she wore, both mostly hidden beneath her jacket, she half jogged up the front stairs to the entrance of the massive building which shadowed the street before it. As Peyton reached the front door the electronic lock buzzed and the latch clicked.
Again, he held the door open for her, but this time as she walked past he placed his hand to the small of her back to guide her in. Very gentlemanly to the casual observer. But the press of her weapon to her spine was unmistakable. When she glanced up at Peyton, his little, knowing smile proved that he’d felt her gun, and he knew that she felt it, too. But he said nothing, only held her gaze a moment longer. Something disturbingly amused played behind his expression. He was setting her up for something, she just couldn’t be sure of what just yet.
The security by the metal detector gave a glance at their badges, and didn’t even flinch when they each set off the alarm. She didn’t imagine that it had been just Peyton’s keys to activate the metal detector.
All her senses prickled on high alert as they got onto the elevator. This was the heart of the wizards’ organization. From what she’d been able to determine from Internet searches and informants, the principle power for the wizards was contained and controlled from here. A few of the senior members, who by all accounts were abnormally long lived and well preserved for humans, maintained property that she suspected harbored some covert activity. The actual number of true wizards, and their apprentices, weren’t that many, by her estimates. But they employed a large number of humans that they didn’t share their magic with. Like Peyton.
He crossed his arms beside her, cutting a sideways glance in her direction.
London lifted her chin and smiled brightly for him. The look must have reminded Peyton of the night before, because she got a raised eyebrow from him.
He was still trying to figure out her game, she guessed. He wasn’t buying her story, of that much she was certain.
When the elevator dinged, they disembarked onto the seventh floor. “Ready for an eye opener?” He asked, drawing her into the expansive space.
From what she could see, the entire seventh floor was open, giving it a warehouse feel. The harsh fluorescent lighting flickered with a sickly blue illumination down onto the rows and stacks of cages. With the air circulation units buzzing in the ceiling, she didn’t immediately catch the smell. But when it reached her, she covered her mouth and nose with her hand.
The blood and flesh stench of a butcher shop reached her first. Urine, feces, and sickness overlaid it. The fey she could make out in their cramped cages didn’t move around a lot. It could have been depression or injury that drained their spirits. Or it could have been the results of drugs. A glass front refrigerated cabinet to her left was filled with vials and syringes.
Intellectually, she had known that the wizards kept fey like animals. She’d even helped to free some once. But knowing something, and facing it head on with all the reality beating at her senses was something entirely different. She’d just relegated that knowledge to the back of her mind, like knowing the cruelty animals endured every da
y at the hands of medicine and science, puppy mills and dog fighting, and all such inhumanities that people could conceive. Was there no limit to the brutality?
It was enough to make a girl turn vegan and become a militant animal rights activist.
Or at the very least, plan a break out for several dozen mutilated fey.
Peyton stood there beside her, arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart, looking into the face of the horror without flinching. He’d seen it before. Not only that, London thought, but he’d become desensitized to it.
Except for the clenching in his jaw.
Maybe not so desensitized as he portrayed.
Studying him, she whispered, “You brought them all here?”
“Not all.” He refused to look away from what he’d done. “But most. The Changelings captured some, but they are more likely to bring back corpses than live specimens.” He tilted his head so his green eyes met her gaze. “And the wizards need them alive when they harvest certain parts.”
Lugh was going to flip when he learned about this. It had been just as she’d known it would be. Bad. But she’d not realized just how bad. “Any Sidhe?”
Peyton shook his head. “Not recently. They are the hardest to catch. The hardest to keep the Changelings from killing, too.”
Hugging herself against the chill of the air conditioning and the gore, London turned her back on the fey and focused on Peyton. “How have you convinced Changelings to work for the wizards? Deacon, and the others. Wouldn’t they realize that they are just as valuable to the wizards as the rest of the fey?”
The smirk he gave her was meant to be ironic. Callous, even. But instead, she detected a hint of some deeply hidden pain. “Nothing a little dark enchantment can’t solve. They will do anything for it. Even bow before a wizard.” He watched her now. Searched her face as much as she had his. “But the intoxication and addiction isn’t enough to fully control their nature. Which is why Deacon killed Rico.”