JinYeong looked alert. “Ah, ku don nemsae? Utkida!”
“Pet,” said Athelas, a slight gleam to his eyes, “have you been depositing small amounts of cash around the house in odd spots?”
The vampire can smell money?
Who the heck can smell money?
I glared at JinYeong again. “Mostly around my own room—which you wouldn’t know if you hadn’t invaded my privacy in the first place!”
“I believe we’ve gotten off the subject,” Athelas said. Now it was more than a gleam in his eyes; it was a definite laugh.
I didn’t think he should be laughing when we were in a room full of bodies, so I said a bit snarkily, “Even if I had a phone, why would I want to take photos of dead guys?”
“Perhaps I spoke too soon about the investigative skills of our pet,” mourned Athelas.
“They’ve kept the bodies,” Zero said, as if neither Athelas or I had spoken. “Fae don’t tend to keep bodies once they’ve killed them. Not unless there’s a specific reason.”
“Nobody does!” I muttered. “Not unless they’re psychopaths or something. It’s not just a fae thing: Humans don’t keep bodies for the heck of it, either!”
Zero’s eyes flicked over to me and then back to the bodies. “The point being—”
“Yeah, that we gotta figure out why. But I still haven’t got a camera, so what are we gunna do?”
“I have a phone,” said Athelas.
He must have surprised Zero as much as it surprised me, because Zero looked up at him sharply and suddenly. “When did you get a phone?”
“If one lives in the modern world, one should avail oneself of all the conveniences.”
“A mobile phone is only a convenience if one lives in the modern human world,” Zero said. “We don’t live in the human world for long enough to make it necessary.”
“I beg to differ,” said Athelas, slipping a thin, white smartphone from his back pocket. “Since it is certainly necessary in this situation.”
Did Zero roll his eyes? He looked away, anyway; and he didn’t answer Athelas. Unconcerned, Athelas took picture after composed picture, directing JinYeong to turn bodies and position faces. JinYeong looked annoyed to be told what to do, but he didn’t seem to mind touching the bodies, so I was glad Athelas hadn’t told me to do it. I didn’t think I could have.
“What are we taking photos for, anyway?” I asked Zero. “That’s the sort of thing the cops do.”
“We are cops,” said Zero. “Their equivalent, at any rate.”
“Yeah, that’s right; you’re investigators or something.”
“Enforcers.”
“What’s the difference?” From what Athelas had said, I’d thought they were the fae version of police.
“Investigators only investigate,” Zero told me. “Enforcers investigate, weigh evidence, and apply the law.”
I frowned. “What do you mean, apply it?”
“It would be more correct to say that he applies judgement,” Athelas said, standing up again at last. “A rather more active version of a hangman. I should mention that I am not an Enforcer. I am merely an onlooker.”
“Good,” I said, still feeling a bit snarky at them all. There was no way Athelas should be dispensing justice if it came to the human world.
Athelas only smiled a little and put his phone away. “Shall we proceed to the police station?”
“I don’t think we’ll need the police station,” Zero said. “We’ll only need a computer and internet access. I’ve got the feeling that what we’re looking for won’t be hard to find.”
Half an hour later, at my usual computer at the library, I grumbled, “We need a computer at home if we’re gunna be doing stuff like this.”
Athelas had plugged his phone into one of the computers—something I was pretty sure the librarians usually objected to, and Zero’s sword was really easy to see in the shadows against the bookcases.
“People will look at us weird if they see us comparing dead people’s faces with Googled faces at the library.”
“People will see what they expect to see,” said Athelas. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“’S’pose Zero did a spell,” I muttered. “It prob’ly hasn’t got anything to do with people not seeing stuff cos they only see what they expect to see.”
“Hush, Pet,” said Athelas, uploading his photographs with a swiftness and surety that I wouldn’t have expected from someone non-human. “JinYeong, who was longest dead?”
“Ku saram,” JinYeong said, pointing to one of the fair-haired victims.
“Dear me,” said Athelas, as the screen populated with much healthier looking pictures of the dead guy. “How interesting! It appears that this man is a very famous Tasmanian singer who is currently supposed to be on tour in Canada. He’s very influential in politics and is expected to make the switch from music to politics in the next few years.”
“They mustn’t have noticed him missing yet,” I said. “How come he’s here, though? How’d he get from Canada to here?”
“The others,” Zero said, ignoring me. “Who are they? That one specifically—who is he?”
Athelas clicked, and scrolled a little. His brows went up. “More and more interesting. This one is the chairman for a company who is currently buying up land in and around Hobart for redevelopment. And that one—yes, I thought as much. He’s in local government, and until a few months ago he was opposing plans to redevelop empty lots into apartment housing.”
“Hang on,” I interrupted. “I remember when that one went missing. There was a really big fuss about it, but they found him again. How come he’s dead now?”
Athelas smiled curiously. “Well, Pet; according to this article, he isn’t dead. He is well and alive, and giving a speech at this very moment in a city planning meeting.”
“I give up,” I complained, leaning around Zero again to get a better look at the computer screen. “I don’t know what’s happening any more. D’you mean the fae at the waystation are trying to make sure Hobart gets more developed? Why? And how are they getting these guys to change their minds—and how come they’re dead but alive?”
“Who was the other one?” Zero asked, turning abruptly to face me and disturbing my precarious balance. “You said he came to the café to eat muffins.”
I caught myself by grabbing the hem of his leather jacket, and let it go again just as quickly. “Sorry. Um. Well, not just to eat muffins, but he liked the food, yeah.”
“He’s an ordinary person?”
“He’s human, yeah. The boss said he was one of the people who owns half of Hobart, though.”
“He owns half of Hobart and he goes to a small, dingy café to eat his breakfast?” Athelas sounded sceptical, but interested.
“Yeah. The food’s good there. And he’s not the sort of bloke who worries about expensive food, so long as it’s warm and good. He’s pretty nice, for a rich bloke.”
Zero and Athelas exchanged a look.
“Pet,” said Athelas, “which half of Hobart did this muffin-eater own?”
“The parking half,” I said. “He owns at least three of the parking lots, the boss said. And a house in about two other countries, as well.”
“Ah!” Athelas purred. “Now things begin to be very clear!”
“Do they?” I looked glumly at him. I was still confused about who was dead and who was alive, and I’d seen the bodies. “Well, if it’s all about redevelopment, there’s a couple people round Hobart who are gunna be against it.”
“I very much doubt it’s about redevelopment,” said Athelas. “As such. When you saw him last, was your friend behaving as he usually did?”
“Yep. Same food, same drink; same smile. That sorta thing. You think something was after him then?”
“I think not,” said Athelas. “No, I think not. He was well and truly dead by then. Changelings, wouldn’t you say, Zero?”
Zero was brief. “Yes.”
“And if I’m no
t very much mistaken, anti-Family changelings.”
“Yes.”
“What’s Family? Whose family?” I had definitely heard them talking about a Family before.
JinYeong shot me a narrow look and said something that sounded annoyed.
“JinYeong feels that you’re becoming noisy,” Athelas told me helpfully.
“Thanks,” I said sourly. “Thanks for telling me. Think I prefer not knowing what he’s saying.”
“One feels that one should pat them on the back and give them leave to continue,” Athelas continued, without regarding me. “If it’s all the same to you, Zero. They’ve got some nice, key players ensconced, and the enemy of my enemy…”
“Yeah, and what do you mean when you say changelings?” I demanded, reminded of my other, pressing question. “I know that word, and in the stories it’s always a bad thing.”
Athelas shrugged, a faint smile etched delicately on his lips. “In this case, I shouldn’t think so.”
“Changelings,” said Zero, surprising me by answering directly, “are fae versions of particular humans. It’s one of the most logical reasons for bodies to be kept: If they’re needed to maintain a fae’s changeling appearance and personality. If they don’t have the body, they don’t have the memories and personality.”
I really shouldn’t have had breakfast. I looked back up at Zero’s expressionless face and asked a bit thickly, “So they’re really dead, but someone else is going around with their faces?”
“Not only their faces,” he said. “Their faces, their tastes, their personalities and their memories.”
“Those people were killed so someone else could take over their lives?”
JinYeong muttered something dismissive, but I ignored him, my eyes on Zero. I got the impression that he wasn’t enjoying the conversation, but he didn’t look away, either.
“It’s a necessary part of the process,” Athelas said, disconnecting his phone from the computer again. “If a changeling takes over, the human has to die.”
“Death isn’t necessary,” said Zero, his eyes leaving me for a fraction of a moment to rest on Athelas instead. “Merely convenient. It ensures that your real human can’t escape or come back to disturb the changeling.”
“If we—if we burned the bodies,” I said, conscious of a cold, dizzying anger, “would the changelings go back to what they really look like?”
“Yes.”
“What about that glamour you said about? Wouldn’t they glamour themselves?”
“Glamour affects perception, not the actual appearance. Changelings need to interact with family, friends, and fans; perception shifts, and if only one thing is wrong, the whole appearance is ruined. It would only be a temporary solution. Changelings aren’t only the appearance of their host; they’re the very thing. Once the original body is gone, there are no memories and personality to draw from.”
“All right,” I said. “Then what are you going to do about it?”
Chapter Eleven
Athelas blinked a little. “Pet,” he began, gently. “There are operations like this all over the human world.”
“You mean it’s just humans so it doesn’t matter?”
“More that it’s impossible to stop all of them,” Athelas said.
“You don’t have to stop all of them,” I told him. “Just this one. This one that’s under your nose. Show ’em they can’t go using humans like—like monopoly pieces.”
“That’s the sort of action that starts a dangerous precedent,” replied Athelas. To my surprise, he didn’t object to my tone. There was a soft sort of amusement in his eyes—at me or at the world, who knows which.
“There’s legal precedent for it already,” said Zero.
That startled Athelas a lot more than I had. After a pause that was slightly too long, he asked, “Do you mean to say that you’re going to do something about it?”
“The pet found my sword. There’s some form of payment due.”
“There is,” agreed Athelas. His grey eyes were light as the sky, bright with interest. “This human side of you is fascinating to see, Zero!”
“It’s not the human side of me,” Zero retorted. “There’s law and order concerning humans even Behind, and as an Enforcer, I’m pledged to uphold it. Here or there, it doesn’t matter. We’ll deal with this ourselves.”
“Koll!” said JinYeong, his eyes glittering. “Calaeyo, hyung?”
“Should we really be interfering in someone else’s no doubt er, anti-Family endeavours?”
I opened my mouth to demand to know again what something anti-Family was, and why it was more important than human lives, but Zero fixed me with an icy look.
I shut it again.
“We might as well clean it up,” he said. “If it gets too messy the Order Force will clean it up anyway; and we’re on the scene already, so to speak.”
He said “we might as well”, and there wasn’t much interest in his voice, but his fingers were pretty tight around the hilt of his sword. I looked from his whitened fingers to his expressionless face and kept my mouth shut this time, too; because Zero never answered my questions, and this time he had, even if he didn’t have to. And because, no matter what reason he was doing it, Zero was going to make sure that humans didn’t keep disappearing and dying around Hobart.
“The changelings?” Athelas sounded resigned.
“We’ll clean them up bit by bit,” said Zero. “While they’re trying to figure out what happened and uphold a constant glamour. First, we’ll need to go back to the waystation. That’s their headquarters, and that’s what we need to clean up.”
“Very well,” Athelas agreed. “Perhaps it will be enjoyable, after all. We’ve the sword now, so we’re fighting with our best foot forward, so to speak. Shall we go at once?”
“No,” said Zero. “We’ll go better prepared this time. We know what’s going on and who is to blame; we’ll finish it properly.”
I don’t think they really meant to take me with them, but when we were a few houses away from home, JinYeong scented the air and said a sharp something to Zero.
“That detective,” said Zero, “has very good instincts, and is very good at his job.”
That’s what he said, but I was pretty sure what he really meant was that the detective was starting to be a moderate annoyance, which cheered me up a bit. Score one for the humans—especially ones that couldn’t be thralled or manipulated!
“The pet will have to come with us,” Athelas said, shrugging.
“That isn’t a good idea,” said Zero tightly.
JinYeong made a pft sort of noise, and must have said what I was about to say—that I’d been Between and Behind before, anyway—because Athelas nodded.
“The pet seems to be relatively good at looking after itself,” he said. “And it hardly seems likely that the detective will follow us into a rubbish bin. He will follow the pet.”
Zero’s pale blue eyes closed and flicked open again. “Hold onto my pocket,” he said. “And stay behind me.”
“Gotcha,” I said at once. I didn’t want to give him a chance to take it back, so I grabbed the join of stitched leather where his pocket met the outside of the jacket. There was no way I wanted to leave fae by themselves to deal with humans. Not when they looked on us like pets, or chess pieces. There should be a human to watch out for other humans. “Let’s go.”
JinYeong grinned, but I wasn’t sure if it was because my enthusiasm amused him, or if it amused him to think that I could come to mischief Between. I stuck my tongue out at him anyway, which made him purse his lips and narrow his eyes, and gave my attention to following Zero without pulling too much at his pocket.
I’m not sure why I noticed it, or even how I noticed it. Maybe it felt like someone was following me; I looked behind when we got through the bodies, my stomach still unsettled at the feel of the stickiness beneath my feet.
“Ah heck!” I said.
Athelas’ eyes glowed softly in the half l
ight of Between. “I see you’ve noticed our follower, Pet.”
“How’d he get in here?” I said in disgust. If he’d seen us climbing into a rubbish bin, why the heck would he follow us? If he hadn’t, how had he found us?
The pull of Zero’s jacket didn’t lessen, and Zero didn’t stop. “He came through the house,” he tossed over his shoulder. “It’s more open than they’re aware—or maybe they’re trying to catch him next. He’ll turn back when things begin to feel wrong around him, if his instincts are good.”
“At least he won’t set off the warning spells,” Athelas said. “They wouldn’t have conditioned them to recognise humans.”
“What if his instincts aren’t good?” I asked. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t think the detective’s instincts weren’t good; it was more that I thought his instinct to catch my three psychos, no matter what it was they were up to, was stronger than his instinct to avoid danger. “Think he’s seen us; he keeps looking in our direction.”
“He’s not quite in the same part of Between as we are,” Athelas said, easily. “We came through the back door; he’s come through the front. We should manage to avoid a meeting. If not, I suppose we’ll have to do something about it.”
I saw the tip of JinYeong’s tongue run lightly along the inside of his upper lip, his eyes gleaming and hungry.
“Not like that!” I protested. I stumbled as I walked, my attention dangerously divided among JinYeong, Athelas, and the detective.
“Don’t drain the detective,” said Zero, without looking at any of us. “And don’t kill him, either.”
JinYeong looked sulky but not too angry; he was probably looking forward to a fight ahead. Athelas looked mildly regretful, especially when the detective kept coming, a vague shadow in the darkness that had wide, white eyes and white, grimacing teeth.
He was already regretting following us, I could tell. But he was also determined to catch my three psychos, and even if he couldn’t see us, he kept coming. His head swung left and right, eyes staring at the walls and the shadowy representation of a hand resting on the gun holstered on his belt. If he was anything like me, he’d started seeing movement in the walls by now.
Between Jobs (The City Between Book 1) Page 19