Grave Ransom

by Kalayna Price

  Falin pulled open the top drawer, appeared to fumble with something, and then dragged out a small stack of clothing. I tried not to gape. Those drawers were empty. I’d emptied them myself.

  Which meant the stack of clothes in his hands, which appeared to be a shirt for him and an outfit that looked a hell of a lot like one of mine, had to be pure glamour.

  He turned to me, a mischievous smile touching his lips, and held out his hand to help me off the bed. I took it dumbly, not sure what else to do. Falin was good at personal glamours, but he wasn’t great at making lasting objects without some similar raw material to work with, and there had been literally nothing in that drawer. There was no chance I’d be able to accept that pile of clothes, go to another room, and put them on. Still, I let him pull me to my feet.

  He waved a hand toward my small bathroom on the other side of my kitchenette. “After you,” he said with another smile.

  I frowned at him but headed in that direction, Falin on my heels.

  Briar rolled her eyes. “I’m regretting this already. Hurry up, I don’t have all morning.”

  Before the bathroom door fully closed behind us, I channeled raw magic from my ring into a small privacy charm on my bracelet. A soundproof privacy bubble sprang up around me. I’d crafted the charm myself, so the bubble of privacy was small. Really small. As in for both Falin and me to be fully covered by it, we had to be close enough that if I took too large a breath, our chests would touch, but the spell itself inside that small area was solid.

  “What are you thinking?” I whispered in a hiss of breath. Whispering wasn’t necessary inside the spell, but it seemed prudent.

  Falin shrugged. His hands were empty now, the stack of glamoured clothing having vanished as soon as the door had closed. “I was thinking that cooperating over little things would look better for you. Unless you want to explain to the OMIH and MCIB how your own private space unfolded for you with a Faerie castle inside.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t high on my to-do list. I was still attempting to pass for human as much as I could.

  “What I forgot to take into account is how close it is to dawn,” he said, looking up as if he could see the rising sun through the ceiling.

  I followed his gaze, frowning. “Glamours break at dawn, right? But the exact moment has passed. Faerie magic should be flooding back into the world by now.”

  His brow creased and he studied my face as if searching for some kind of recognition I clearly wasn’t giving.

  “What?” I hissed.

  “You still can’t feel the ebb and flow of Faerie magic, can you?”

  I didn’t answer, and that must have been answer enough, because his lips compressed into a tight line. I’d spent most of my life with my fae nature sealed away by a spell my father had put on me before I was even born. The seal had been crumbling since the Blood Moon months ago, and had theoretically been fully ripped away the night of the Fall Equinox, but there were still several parts of my newly discovered nature that weren’t working for me. Glamour for one. And apparently, sensing ambient Faerie magics.

  “I wouldn’t exactly say it rushes back into the world,” Falin said, and shook his head. “If I weave a glamour now, it will be relatively weak. I’ll have to reinforce it later.”

  “Do it. We’ve been in here too long already.”

  He nodded and his hands lifted to my waist. An electric zing shot through me that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with Falin touching me. A tinge of guilt met the response in equal portions. I glanced away, trying not to let it show on my face, but surely the way my skin seemed to tighten gave me away.

  If he noticed, he was good enough not to show it. Instead he knelt, trailing his hands over my hips. It was oddly businesslike and intimate at the same time. And it was really, really awkward. As his hands moved, my silk shorts darkened and lengthened. His hands glided down to my knees and then over my calves, and as he moved, buttery soft black leather crawled down my legs until I was wearing a pair of pants nicer than anything I actually owned.

  He stood and lifted the bottom hem of my cami, rubbing the material between his fingers as if testing what it was made of. Then he placed his hands on my shoulders and trailed them slowly down my arms. The thin straps of the camisole seemed to swell, becoming thicker, growing to follow his fingers but also rippling down the shirt until I wasn’t wearing a camisole but a purple V-neck sweater. I turned and looked in the mirror. It was similar to a sweater I wore often, but like the pants, it was softer and better-quality than anything I owned. The outfit fit better too, hugging every curve as if it had been painted on, which, in a way, it had.

  “Nice,” I said, fingering the sleeve of the sweater. It was so soft, it had to be some sort of cashmere blend.

  By the time I turned back around, Falin had on what appeared to be his typical oxford button-up. He had shoes too. Which was a very good idea.

  “I hate to ask . . . but if she wants me to go somewhere with her . . .” I lifted my bare foot.

  Falin shook his head. “It was hard enough stretching what little material you’re wearing as far as I did. If I re-created your boots from scratch, they’d never hold.” He reached out and lifted the necklace I wore. “Your chameleon charm seems to be helping maintain the clothes, but I don’t trust it enough to try boots. And, of course, the standard glamour warnings: Stay away from iron, don’t let your planeweaving magic disbelieve it out of existence, and put on real clothes before sunset, or you’ll very suddenly find yourself only half dressed again.”

  I nodded. “Well, we better get back out there.”

  “One more thing.” He reached out and ran a hand through my hair. Curls fell free of the knotted, windswept mess to bounce lightly down my neck.

  “Okay, now that’s a trick I need to learn,” I said, glancing at the mirror. It was just glamour, I knew, but they felt like they were free of tangles. It would have taken me another shower, an hour working out knots, and some styling products to get my curls to look this nice. This was definitely a trick I needed to add to my arsenal.

  Except for my bare feet, we looked totally presentable now. I pulled the magic back out of the privacy charm, releasing the soundproof bubble, then led Falin out of the bathroom.

  Briar had commandeered the one chair in the small apartment, my bar stool, and had a folder with several sheets of paper spread across the short bar. She looked up as we walked back into the room, then very pointedly glanced at her watch, but she didn’t comment. Instead she gathered the papers, shuffling them back into the folder.

  “So,” I said, sitting down on my bed once again. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here so early?”

  “No shoes?” she asked, glancing at my feet.

  Was she stalling? What was going on? She’d barged in here, but she seemed to keep finding reasons not to tell me whatever she’d come to say.

  “They’re not up here,” I said, which was the truth. They weren’t downstairs either, but she didn’t have to know that. She frowned, still staring at my bare feet. “Do I need shoes, Briar? Am I going somewhere?”

  She sighed and shook her head. Her mouth screwed together hard, like she didn’t want to admit what she was about to say, but finally she said, “I have it on good authority that I’m going to need your assistance to solve this case. I’m here to hire you.”

  Chapter 10

  I stared at Briar. All this buildup and . . . “You want to hire me? And not that I’m refusing, but exactly who is the ‘good authority’ who told you that you would need me to solve the case?”

  Briar still looked like she’d swallowed something bitter. “My partner.”

  “Do I know her?” I hadn’t even known she had a partner. I’d thought she was a one-woman ass-kicking machine.

  “Him. And no, you’ve never met him. Remember when I said the MCIB has great premonition witches? We
ll, he’s one of the best. And when prophecies plague his dreams, and he wakes up raving about how I’m going to need your help, then I drive my ass over here to wake you up.”

  Now it was my turn to grimace. It was rarely good when you showed up in a premonition witch’s prophecies. The future they saw was typically written in stone. Many wyrd abilities were considered difficult to live with; the magic used the witch as much as it was used, but prophecy was a particularly potent burden—most premonition witches went mad before they reached adulthood.

  “What did this prophecy entail?” I asked, not sure I actually wanted to know.

  Briar shrugged. “That’s all he told me.” The look on my face must have betrayed my skepticism because she continued by saying, “He’s thirty-two and still sane. He’s found a way to manipulate the best possible outcome out of his prophecies, so I don’t question him. He tells me what I need to know, and I don’t push him for more. If I’m going to solve this case, I need to work with you, so I will.” She pulled a page from the folder in her hands. “Regardless of what cards and certifications you carry from the Organization of Magically Inclined Humans, I think we both know you’re not strictly human. So I drew up a hire agreement to ensure that there are no misunderstandings about debt.”

  I cringed internally but accepted the paper when she passed it to me. Falin stepped closer, reading the document over my shoulder. I didn’t stop him. While his loyalties weren’t always clear when it came to the Winter Queen, he was a friend who generally had my best interests in mind. He’d point out anything that could leave me compromised, probably.

  I read the document carefully, but there was nothing blatantly unusual in it. The contract would hire me at a generous daily rate that would encompass any hours I worked with Briar or on the case independently. If I accepted the job, I would be agreeing to work the case for the listed fee without expecting additional compensation for any magic performed, information shared, or injury sustained during the case. That last bit wasn’t exactly reassuring, but overall, the document was simply a way to cover one’s ass and avoid incurring debt from a manipulative fae. It was smart—I’d have to keep a copy in case I ever needed it.

  There was only one line that was a deal breaker and would prevent me from signing. I turned the page around, holding it up toward Briar. “This line that reads, ‘The contractor agrees to disclose any and all information pertaining to the case at the earliest opportune time.’ That’s not going to work for me.”

  A muscle above Briar’s jaw bulged and she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re flat-out admitting you plan to keep things from me during the case?”

  “No.” Well, yes. Even if she hired me, I still couldn’t tell her everything I saw in the bank, at least not the parts that pertained to the soul collectors. I was oath-bound to keep their secrets. “There may be some things I can’t tell you. I will share everything I can.”

  Her glare should have sliced the skin from my bones. I forced myself to meet her gaze, but it took effort. After a moment, she rolled her eyes, but that didn’t lessen her glare.

  “I probably shouldn’t have told you about the premonition before you signed. You know you have me over a barrel.” She glided to her feet and snatched the contract from me. She crossed out the words “any and all” and initialed the change before handing it back to me. “Better?”

  I read over it one more time and then glanced at Falin. He gave a small nod, which I took to mean he didn’t spot any binding loopholes I’d missed. I initialed the change as well, then signed on the line.

  It wasn’t a magical oath, but it was still a binding contract, and I was fae enough that I could feel the agreement etching itself into me as I wrote my name. It was disconcerting.

  “So does this mean you want me to raise the shades from the robbers at the bank?” I asked, holding out the contract.

  “I’m working on it. Unfortunately, you’re still the NCPD’s main suspect. You can’t go anywhere near those bodies until you’re cleared or we finagle you special permission.” Briar plucked the contract from my stunned fingers and tucked it into her folder. “Now that the paperwork is out of the way, tell me what you left out yesterday at the police station. Derrick said you have a lead already.”

  I should have seen that coming. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell her more. Everything else I had was guesses or pertained to the soul collectors. So what lead did I have?

  The tracking charm.

  “Remember when I said I tracked Remy to the bank using a charm, but that the soul navigating his body wasn’t actually his?”

  Briar nodded.

  “There was an . . . irregularity when I was following the spell. At one point the trail split in two different directions. At the time, I thought the focus was contaminated.” I took a breath, because I hadn’t actually said this next part out loud before. “Now, I wonder if the other trail might lead to Remy’s soul; probably in someone else’s body, if the pattern holds.”

  Briar stared at me a moment. “You can track a soul?”

  “Maybe? I don’t know. To my knowledge, it’s never been attempted.” The research I’d done last night hadn’t turned up any verifiable cases. People tried to summon ghosts with personal objects all the time, but aside from some bragging posts with no details on inactive profiles, I couldn’t find a single mention of people trying to track one. Either it couldn’t be done, or no one had ever been successful. “Or maybe the focus really was contaminated and the charm will lead me to some acquaintance of my client’s.” I shrugged. “I’d planned to check it out today.”

  “Sounds like a lead.” Briar pushed out of her chair. “Grab your stuff. I’m driving.”

  “Uh, no,” I said, not standing.

  She turned, her eyebrow cocking. “What’s the issue, Craft?”

  I made a conscious effort not to glance at Falin. He wasn’t the issue, and if I looked at him, she’d think he was. The issue was his glamour, and the fact that underneath it, I was still more or less in glorified underwear. Also that I had no idea what she was driving, but last time it was a Hummer with so much metal in it I got physically sick. If I stepped into it now, the glamoured outfit didn’t stand a chance.

  “The problem is that she has other responsibilities,” Falin said without missing a beat. “You woke her, which means her dog hasn’t been walked or fed. You never once asked if she had client appointments on the books this morning. And you never even asked if she has this tracking charm on her.” He glanced at me and I shook my head. It was still at the castle. He turned back to Briar. “This case is probably the only reason you’re in town, but it’s not Alex’s only priority.”

  I gaped at Falin. Okay, yeah, he had my back.

  Briar glared. “There are four bodies in the morgue, and if her theory is correct about Remy’s ghost piloting another body, there are more bodies out there.”

  Now I did stand, holding up my hand to Falin before he answered. I appreciated the knight-in-glamoured-clothing act, but I could fight this particular battle on my own.

  “You hired me. I’m working this case, and plan to give it my best, but he’s right, I have other responsibilities too. Also, if you’re still driving that steel monster of an SUV, I can’t ride with you.”

  That last part clearly caught her off guard, and I saw the momentary confusion flicker through her dark eyes before they flashed with understanding.

  “Too much iron?” she asked, and at my nod she made a small hmmm sound before saying, “I never considered that. This might take a little adjustment for me. I’ve never worked with a nonhuman before.”

  And there was me cringing again.

  “I can meet you at my office in about an hour,” I said, then thought better of it. “Actually, we should meet at Central Precinct. The tracking charm will pick up Remy’s body in the morgue and we don’t want to get distracted by that trail. But with that
drive, give me an hour and a half.”

  Though she didn’t look happy about it, she nodded, seeing herself out a moment later so that I could focus on getting ready. Which was good; I was going to be pushing it as it was, even with Holly’s bike, which I probably needed to return. I was definitely going to need a bike of my own. But first I needed to get back to the castle and put on real clothes.

  • • •

  Nearly two hours later, I was standing in front of Central Precinct. The clothes I was wearing were nowhere near as nice as the glamoured ones I’d had to discard, but at least they wouldn’t vanish if I walked too close to a cast-iron gate. Briar had been waiting for me when I arrived, which wasn’t surprising, and now we were both staring at the small bag dangling from my clenched fist.

  “What do you mean it’s not working?” she asked, glaring at both me and the charm in turn.

  “Well, it is working—it is pulling me toward the body in the morgue—but the other trail it found yesterday is missing.” I frowned at the charm and reached out with my ability to sense magic, examining it. I’d had Rianna recharge it before I left the castle this morning, as the original charm hadn’t been designed for long-term use, but that shouldn’t have changed anything about how it functioned. The spell itself felt exactly the same as it had yesterday, but it was definitely only pulling me in one direction, toward the basement and Remy’s body.

  I turned a full circle, holding the charm out as if I could dowse a trail better that way. It didn’t change anything. I shook my head.

  “Either there is no longer anything else to track”—which would mean the collectors had found and collected Remy’s soul already—“or he’s behind wards.”

  “Or it was some weird magical fluke,” Briar said.

  I nodded, acknowledging the possibility. “Now what?”

  “You were supposed to be my lead, Craft,” Briar said. She looked up, as if judging the time by the position of the sun crawling over the surrounding buildings. Then she pressed both her palms into her eyes a moment before dragging them down her face. She looked tired, which made sense. She’d shown up at my house right before dawn, and she’d drafted that hire paperwork before that. If her partner “woke” from his premonition as she said, it had probably been the middle of the night.