by Jayne Hawke
The big guy reached me just as I finished drawing in energy and slugged me in the eye, the weapon on his back forgotten as he rode the rush of fresh water magic. I heard as much as felt the blow connect and was sent reeling. Running on instinct, I pushed the full energy of the storm in a static burst out from me, letting it find its own line. When I regained my senses a fraction of a second later, he was flat on his back, dead and cooked at a stroke.
A quick check showed the magic, and thus the life, had left all of our opponents. The entire fight had taken no more than twenty seconds, the majority of the dead having died where they stood with no weapons drawn.
“So, water gun, huh? Decided to pull out the Super Soaker for the seahorse brigade, did you?”
TEN
Ash nudged the dead barghest with the toe of his boot.
"You know, I was really hoping for a fruit basket this time," he said.
I tried not to laugh. It was a shame to end lives like that, but they'd left us with no choice.
"Help me harvest whatever we can sell," I said.
Fae pieces were worth a good deal, even having to let them go cheap to move them quietly in the brief windows of free time we had between cases. Witches bought them, mostly, witches who, unlike me, could spend their days carving ritual circles and expanding their power through complex spells instead of massacring the barbarian hordes with quick-and-dirty combat magic. It wasn’t a life I wanted, not exactly, but there was a part of me that got rubbed a little raw playing hunter-gatherer for witches with infinitely easier lives.
He sighed.
"Dammit, I was really hoping to not get barghest on me today."
"Come on, pretty boy, work to be done."
I breathed in the storm that rolled around overhead, subconsciously pulling on the strings of magic that filled the air. There was nothing quite as invigorating as a good storm. Thunder crashed, sounding as though it was barely above the rooftops. As we worked, I continued working with the magic as I did so, carefully weaving the threads into Ash's tattoos once I felt as alive as I could after such a fight.
Once the worthwhile stuff was bagged, bottled, and stowed, we dumped the rest in the tall grass for the predators to pick over – which is to say quietly dispose of without charging the fees clean-up crews usually demanded - and got into Ash's car to head towards our original errand in Haymarket. Big heavy drops of rain pelted the car, forming a beautiful serenade. I slowed my breathing and pulled the magic from the rain, carefully pushing it into the broader vial with the translucent blue stopper. One day, I'd have a charm bracelet, which would make life far easier than carrying vials and bottles around. They were expensive, an unnecessary luxury. Maybe if we came into some money, I could afford to buy one.
"We're not going to have to deal with fae politics, are we?" Ash asked after a few minutes.
"Because we killed the kelpies and all? Nah. They won't care about that. The kelpies are a dark mark on the reputations of upstanding Lords and Ladies."
"Oh, there's a bakery! I wonder if they have those lemon meringue cupcakes."
"We're supposed to be stocking up sensible rations."
"I'm a growing boy," he said with a broad grin.
"You're 25!"
He flexed his bicep.
"See, growing."
I rolled my eyes. I didn't know what I'd do without him.
It was the middle of the night when my phone dinged with an alert. Grasping onto it, bleary eyed, I skimmed the text on screen. News had come in about another rogue wolf. This one hadn't killed, but he'd certainly come close to it. The human was in the hospital, and the wolf was with his pack. Groaning, I rolled out of bed and pulled on my clothes.
"Come on, Ash. Another rogue showed up."
To my disgust, he bounced out of bed as though he'd had twelve wonderful restful hours of sleep instead of three fitful ones. Sometimes I really hated that guy.
Thankfully, we were fully stocked on magic and ammo after our shopping trip the day before. I filled my pockets with vials and a couple of small bags of pixie dust. If I had a moment to poke at it, I could weave the pixie dust into the other magics to give them an extra boost. The image of holding up my hand and asking a team of red caps to hold off on trying to tear us apart so I could boost my magic made me laugh. It was the lack of sleep. It was getting to me.
"Tell me we still have some of those caffeine bars," I said as I laced up my boots.
Ash tossed me a small dense bar packed full of caffeine and pixie dust. Humans weren't supposed to be able to get their hands on them, as it was too much for them and the risk of heart attack was real, but for us they were both readily available and entirely critical to our functionality. Or mine, at least. I bit into it as I pulled on my jacket, which came with magical armouring. The bitter taste was pretty foul, but I felt myself waking up even as I chewed. The fog of sleepiness lifted, leaving me bright eyed and ready to kick ass.
We raced down the stairs.
"What do we know?"
"It's over in Sighthill. A member of the Steel Heart pack, one of the oldest and most established packs in the area. No death yet."
"Alright, we can be there in fifteen minutes. Just one rogue?"
"That's what the text said. We can't be sure more in the pack won't go rogue along with him."
"Who's he attacking?"
"Some drunk human, I think."
We shot out the front door - no kelpies in sight that time. Ash had the engine running as I fell into the passenger seat. Another text came in. The pack had removed the rogue from the area; no one had been killed. That made life simultaneously easier and more difficult. No death meant no body to deal with. The pack taking him away meant we had to handle the politics there.
Given the option, I’d choose a dead body over politics any day.
ELEVEN
Sighthill was a pretty neighbourhood that backed onto the wild forests the shifters ran in. Large yellow-stoned buildings lined the pristine roads behind rows of broad mature trees and covered in elegant vines that bloomed even in winter. Each house had a large plot of land around it providing space and privacy. It looked like something right out of someone's dream. We in our noisy muscle car completely ruined the image, especially as we ruined the quiet peace at three in the morning. Oh well.
We pulled up in front of a particularly large detached house set aside from the rest of the houses by a good ways. The garden surrounding the house was carefully manicured with brilliant green grass, flower beds lining the borders with technicolour blooms, and small shrubs sporting tiny delicate flowers to finish the picture. When people thought shifters, they didn't usually picture something quite so artful.
Movement in the front window, which was of course surrounded by elegant vines covered in sweet scented flowers, told us someone knew we'd arrived. It wasn't really hard. The Camaro wasn't what you'd call subtle. We strode up to the front door with our Knight pendants on show. The bounty hunter, Jack, hadn't really given a damn, but the shifters were likely to shut us down if they saw an opportunity.
The door opened to reveal a woman around about our age with long dark hair and sharp amber eyes.
"Yes?"
"Good morning, we're from the Knights," I said as I held up my pendant.
The woman narrowed her eyes at the black disk engraved with sky blue, before she turned and inspected Ash's.
"Fine."
She stepped aside and let us in. The interior was fashionable and comfortable with muted tones, pale hardwood flooring and a deep carpet runner going up the stairs.
"Do you have a name?" Ash asked.
"I do."
We followed her down the hallway into the last room on the left. A pair of men in their thirties were sitting on high-backed armchairs looking tense as they glared at the door, waiting.
"Knights," the woman said.
The blond man snorted. I gave him my sweetest smile in response.
"We're here to talk about the rogue," I said.
"He's safe," the woman said.
"You do understand that you have to work with us, right?" Ash said.
The blond bared his teeth at that.
The woman sighed.
"Ben is safe. We will look after him and make sure he doesn't hurt anyone."
"We need to see for ourselves," I pushed.
"Rhian..." the brown-haired man growled.
She snarled at him, showing her full wolf teeth as she did so. The man looked down and away.
"We are an old pack. We're not weak, or without knowledge and connections. Ben is one of ours, and as he hasn't killed anyone he remains ours."
"We're not looking to take him away. We want to understand what happened," I said.
Rhian softened a little, her shoulders dropping a touch and the sharpness fading.
"We're unsure what happened. We heard about the killing, the Loki wolf. No one knows where he came from or what happened."
I made a mental note about the Loki pack comment. We hadn't been able to ascertain where he had come from or what connections he had.
"Then let us help."
"I'm sorry, I have to think of our pack, and I cannot allow you to harm Ben. This remains a pack problem."
I felt Ash tensing next to me. He'd never been any good with the more delicate negotiations.
"We cannot afford to let this go. I'm sure you understand that."
Ash went to speak, I put my hand on his wrist to stop him. The situation didn't need him trying to bulldoze his way through it.
"Ben was fine earlier. There were no signs of any problems; he's a longstanding member of this pack. His bloodline comes directly from the founders. He is a quiet man, an artist who helps with the admin in one of our galleries. He's the last one who anyone would have thought would go rogue."
I caught the sharp accusing look the brown-haired man gave the blond. It looked like the blond was a hot-head and potential risk, then.
"There must have been something," I pushed.
"Look, I'm sorry, but this is pack business. If something changes, then I'll be in touch."
Rhian stepped forward, using her presence to push us out of the room and towards the front door. She wasn't much bigger than me, but her aura was far bigger. I had no doubt that she was an intimidating wolf.
"At least tell us what happened tonight," I said.
Rhian crossed her arms and sighed.
"He went out to get a late-night coffee at his favourite cafe. Something about his most recent project was bothering him, and he hoped that the walk would help him figure it out. We felt something change down the pack bond, and he was attacking the man when we got there. He's heartbroken and made no attempts to fight us when we had to lock him down. He seems to be back to himself now. It might well have been some strange glitch."
"At least let me check his magic," I said.
"I'm sorry, but it's time you left."
I bit my tongue. We couldn't push any harder until he killed someone. Technically, assault wasn't a strong enough crime for us to really step in.
"Thank you for your time," I said as I handed her my card.
Something was very wrong in the city, and we needed to figure out what before more innocents were killed.
TWELVE
"She was hiding something," Ash said as we pulled away.
I saw a few curtains twitch as we went by, likely rich people pissed that we ruined their night's sleep. They'd live.
"You know how shifters are. They're incredibly tight-knit families."
Ash's lip curled.
"The coven would have handed us over."
"We're not a family, though, not really. We're a military organisation trained from birth."
"How can you just accept that?"
I shrugged.
"I see no reason to dwell on the past. No, we didn't get much of a childhood, but we're here now making a difference."
"Don't you wonder what it would have been like to grow up in a tight family like that ‘Ben’ did?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know. I just don't see why I should waste energy on things that we just can't have."
Ash gently squeezed my hand.
"Maybe, when we're ready, we'll have that," he said softly.
It wasn't the first time he'd voiced such a hope. There was a quiet dream of forming something like a pack, a group of friends and a family of our own.
"We'll see," I said as I squeezed back.
I wasn't going to latch onto some ephemeral hope. It wasn't healthy, and we couldn't afford to mope around heartbroken if it didn't pan out.
"So, the question is, what are they hiding and how does it affect the case?" I said.
"It seems weird that this ‘Ben’ showed absolutely no symptoms."
"Agreed. The idea that he's back to normal now seems off, too."
"Yea. Once they go rogue, they stay rogue. They could have put him down already. Packs usually deal with their own."
"I can't shake the feeling there's more to this."
"That's just our bad luck," Ash said with a laugh.
"Come on, two wolves go rogue in a week? It's rare to see two rogue wolves in a single territory in the space of a year, let alone a week."
"You think someone's turning them rogue?"
"It's a possibility. I don't know how they'd do it, but we came from a case where some twisted bastard was trying to create new supernaturals. We've seen weirder shit," I said.
"Ok, so we get a couple of hours sleep then start looking into how someone could send wolves rogue, and why," Ash said.
"Gods, sleep sounds incredible. Did you get the cheap caffeine bars? I'm falling asleep already."
"Derek must have switched them out. They were supposed to be the real deal. I'll wring his neck next time I see him."
I stretched my legs and tried to stay awake. The wonderful wakefulness I'd been enjoying had faded fast, leaving me barely able to keep my eyes open. I should have checked the magic in the bar before I ate it, but we didn't have time for any of that. I mumbled to myself as my eyes drooped and I crashed out hard.
***
"Come on, up and at 'em. We have things to do today," Ash said as he shook my shoulder.
I groaned.
"Why? Why would you do that to me? Haven't I been good to you?"
Ash laughed.
"It's nine, you've had a nice lie in. We need to get out into the city, see if we can see or hear anything weird."
I opened my eyes and regretted it. The bastard had opened the curtains and brilliant light was flooding the space.
"Tell me we at least have something for breakfast."
He handed me a pair of croissant in a brown paper bag. I supposed he wasn't all bad, after all.
My stomach growled as I bit into the first one. It was a bit bland and chewy, but it was food.
"Does this mean you stocked up our food supplies?"
"I did indeed. Got us a good deal on pixie dust and ground dobhar chu bones, too."
Dobhar chu were water-based fae looking like the monstrous offspring of an otter and a particularly vicious dog. They usually inhabited the rivers and lakes. Their bones made for a good base of water and attack magic. Ash liked to put some in his water-focused bullets; the magic within them helped weaken the magic in other water-based fae.
"Damn, look at you go. What did you do?"
He gave me his best wounded puppy eyes. I put my croissant down and crossed my arms.
"Ash..."
"It was nothing, really."
"Come on, what did you do?"
"I might possibly have kicked a couple of pixies’ asses at blackjack... and they might maybe have sworn to kill me."
"Did you get at least make good money?"
"Hell yea, enough for us to eat well for a month."
"Were the pixies well connected? Do we need to actually worry?"
"Nah, I gave them Derek's name. They looked dumb as dirt, and Derek has it coming."
I stood up and s
tretched before I wolfed down the other croissant.
"Burgers tonight?"
"You know it."
"Alright, I'll grab a shower then we'll see what we can see and hear around the city."
"About that..."
I waited for him to continue.
"Don't get too excited about the shower. It doesn't have any hot water. Unless you have some fire stones saved up somewhere?"
I did, but I'd been saving them for in case we needed to start an actual fire in an emergency. Recharging them was a pain in my ass. Fire magic was so fickle, and it loved to burn me. I'd need a good fire to pull from to recharge them, too. Dammit, I’d really been looking forward to a decent shower.
THIRTEEN
Ash had dropped me off in Morningside. It was a particularly tight-knit community that was weirdly friendly to outsiders. I hoped that meant they'd be happy to spread a little gossip and give me some clues as to what was going on in the shifter community. Ash had wanted to go to Sighthill by himself, but that was where two of the three shifter packs resided and that was a recipe for disaster. I sent him over to Black Run instead.
Morningside was a pretty little area with lots of small family-run cafes, shops, and the like. The sun had emerged from behind the thick clouds, and I took the opportunity to add some of the light to a fresh vial. You never knew when you'd need some light or gentle warmth. I took my time wandering down the streets looking in the windows of the magical supply stores with hand-painted sigils, locally made vials, and locally caught magic in the windows. I wasn't looking to buy, but it gave me an overall feel for the place.
My meandering brought me to a quaint little cafe full of people with big genuine smiles and the most amazing-smelling shortbread. I'd heard that shortbread with real butter in it was to die for, but the cost of dairy products was as much as champagne. The fae love milk and cream and thus made them a premium product, not wanting to share it with the rest of us. I still adored the shortbread made with nut butters and other alternatives.