Unveiled

by Ruth Vincent

  Reggie’s brows rose up again, but he nodded.

  “I trust you, kid,” he said at last.

  I smiled, touched by his faith in me.

  I’d contacted Tiffany and made plans to meet her that night after work; Obadiah and Eva were going to come with me. At dusk, the air had turned deliciously cool as the three of us walked to the subway. We were going to meet her at their ritual space and lay out our plans for the transfer. I felt nervous as I walked along. I still wasn’t totally sure about what we were doing, but Tiffany was the best access we had to the rest of the girls on Korvus’ list. If I had something in my possession that could help them, it wouldn’t be right of me to hold it back.

  When we reached the loft, I saw Obadiah’s eyebrows raise. It wasn’t nearly as classy of an establishment as his store—then again, Tiffany hadn’t had decades of semi-immortality to make it so. Obadiah opened the door for Eva and me and we stepped into the dim interior. We walked up the stairs. The loft space was eerily quiet without the crowd of ritual-goers. The paper moon hung silently over the sawdust sea. Tiffany was sitting on the ripped stuffed couch at the far corner of the room, wearing a black velvet dress, like something a Victorian lady would have worn in mourning. Her black hair was pulled back tight in a severe look, and she wore studious, cat-eye glasses.

  Her chin was resting on her hands, and she jumped at our approach; I could tell she’d been deep in thought.

  “Thank you so much for coming out,” she said, rising, shaking Obadiah’s hand and introducing herself, then giving all three of us walloping bear hugs.

  “You got my message?” I asked. It had been the most awkward voicemail of my life. How do you tell someone that they could become part fairy?

  She nodded, and I could see by the hope and fear mixed in her eyes that she believed every word I’d said. After all, after what she’d seen with Korvus, why wouldn’t she believe in magic now?

  “I’m honored that you’d consider me.”

  “I know that you’ll take good care of Quinn and the rest of the people Korvus hurt. It may be rocky for a while; it’s the first time humans have ever had this kind of power. But I’ll never forget what I saw when I came to your ritual—you have magic of your own already, whether you know it or not. What you have, it’s different than the fairy magic I know, but it’s real and it’s powerful. That’s why I thought you’d be the perfect candidate. Plus, Eva has told me a lot about you, just how mature and honest and grounded you are. I know you’ll watch out for everyone we give this transfer to, make sure they don’t get hurt.”

  Tiffany looked in my eyes, her expression utterly serious.

  “You have my word,” she said.

  I smiled. It was an expression Obadiah often used, quaintly old-fashioned, and yet deadly serious when he said it. And I got the sense that Tiffany was the same sort, even though she’d been born almost three centuries later.

  I thought that Tiffany was going to want to do some kind of elaborate ritual around her magic transfer, but she didn’t.

  “Let’s keep this simple,” was all she said. I could get behind that.

  Tiffany asked us to all close our eyes, and we did. Even Obadiah, though he gave me an amused eyebrow wiggle till I poked him in the ribs. We were just starting to act natural around each other as a couple again. It was going to take time, a lot of time, but I got these little glimmers that our normal life would come back. It would come back because we wouldn’t settle for anything less.

  Tiffany led us in a simple guided meditation, and when I opened my eyes again, I had to admit I did feel more grounded, relaxed.

  “Okay.” She smiled. “Let’s do this.”

  She took a small black case out of her purse, and when she opened it I saw it contained a thin lancet that flashed silver when the light hit it. Something told me Tiffany had sterilized it. It would be a much safer tool than the pocket knife I’d used the first time, and just this one small, responsible and forward-thinking gesture made me feel even better about Tiffany being Quinn’s mentor.

  “I’ll go first,” I said. “Then when I ask, give me your arm.”

  Tiffany nodded, her eyes solemn.

  I closed my eyes and whispered my intention. Then I pierced my hand with the blade.

  I did the same to Tiffany, then clasped our hands together.

  She closed her eyes, and I did too.

  I opened them when I heard her let out a sharp gasp.

  She looked up at me, and I could tell in her eyes that she felt the magic.

  “Oh my god,” she whispered. “I’d felt it before, but never like this.”

  Slowly, we released our hands from each other’s.

  “It will continue to get stronger over time as it infiltrates your system,” I told her. “You have my cell number; call me if you have any questions. And call me before the first time you try to do a spell.”

  “Of course,” she said, and I knew she would.

  Obadiah was very quiet as he watched all this. I could tell he was deep in thought.

  “What is it?” I asked him when Tiffany had walked out of earshot.

  “It’s funny,” he said. “This is exactly what I tried to give to humans, the experience of magic. But I could only give it to them half-assed, by drinking Elixir. You gave it to them for real.”

  “I hope it’s a good thing. I hope there aren’t unintended consequences,” I said, turning away, but he squeezed my hand.

  “Everything in life has unintended consequences, but they aren’t all bad.”

  “I just hope I can handle them when they happen.”

  “You don’t have to handle them all alone. You’ve got me.” He smiled.

  Sheepishly, I smiled in return.

  “And me,” Eva called out. Clearly she’d heard our whole conversation from where she was seated on the couch.

  I looked at all of their smiling faces under the paper moon. Tiffany had opened the window and the cool evening breeze drifted in, smelling of strange cooking and the crackle of a gathering storm. Traffic outside was a slow and rhythmic sound, like the tide. I’d always thought of myself as a loner, but I realized I wasn’t, not if I didn’t want to be. Whatever happened next, I had friends on my side. And we could handle it, together.

  “Tiffany,” I said as we were getting ready to leave. “Would you be willing to take a trip out to New Jersey with me to go visit Quinn Sheffield? I don’t have the strength to do the transfer twice, but you could do it for her now that you have it.”

  “I’d be honored.” Tiffany smiled, and I smiled back.

  I was still nervous about what we were doing, but less so now that I had my friends.

  Chapter 18

  The next morning, I was back on New Jersey transit, taking the train out to West Tulip once more, but this time Tiffany was with me. I’d told Brenda over the phone that she was a friend of Quinn’s and asked if she was okay with her coming along. Brenda had been happy enough to agree to the meeting. I think she would have agreed to anything at this point. Apparently Quinn was even worse, and her mother was desperate. It was hard to get exact information out of the woman, but something she’d said hinted that Quinn had tried to kill herself while I was in the Vale. Thankfully, she’d been unsuccessful. But I knew if there was any hope, we had to come soon.

  “She’s, um, still in her room,” Brenda said, leading us up the stairs. She hadn’t bothered this time with the formality of offering us a beverage.

  I knocked on the door, then opened it. Tiffany followed me.

  Quinn was still lying on the bed, looking as if she’d barely changed positions from the last time I saw her two weeks ago. In a way, she was. Her eyes shifted slightly in our direction. I wondered if she recognized Tiffany.

  “Quinn, this is Tiffany. I think you’ve met before.”

  Quinn shivered almost imperceptibly. I think she associated Tiffany with her memories of Cory and for a moment I felt bad that I’d brought her here.

  “Quinn, we
know about Cory. We know who he really is, where he’s really from,” I said, and for the first time, I detected life in her eyes.

  “I regret everything,” she muttered, barely audible.

  “Don’t,” I whispered. “It’s not your fault. He’s a powerful supernatural; he’s seductive as hell.” I paused, gulped and then decided this would go better if I was fully honest with Quinn. “He deceived me too.”

  Quinn looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a crack in her impenetrable gloom, an opening I could reach into.

  “I know he took something from you, and I’m not speaking metaphorically here. He stole something real, and it’s the reason you feel so bad right now. But it can be replaced. You can get your life, your joy, your self, back.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t seem convinced.

  So I started talking. I told her about X-factor, and Y-factor, and the cure I’d found for the fairies.

  I wasn’t sure if she believed me, but I kept talking for fear that if I stopped I’d lose the courage to do what I was about to do.

  “I’d like to offer you some,” I said at last.

  “You would give that to me?” She sounded skeptical. “I don’t deserve that.”

  “No one deserves magic. But if you have it, you can do good things with it or bad things with it. You won’t be alone. I gave some to Tiffany too,” I said. “And Eva Morales. And you’ll also have me.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Quinn was muttering, but I could tell that finally she really did believe me.

  “This is the first time in history that we’ve ever done this before, that mortals have been given magic. I don’t know what the effects will be. It’s a risk. There’s an inherent danger in such an unknown. But it’s the only thing I can think of that could help here.”

  “I’ll take it,” she whispered.

  “You sure?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  I took Obadiah’s pocket knife—now sterilized—from my jacket pocket, and Quinn stared at it, wide-eyed.

  Now we had to make the actual switch, before her mother came in and found out in horror what we were doing.

  Tiffany stepped forward, holding out her hand to me.

  “I’m going to use the blade to make a small cut on your hand,” I said to Quinn. “It creates an opening, for one thing to pass into another. It won’t hurt much.”

  Quinn extended her hand at my words. I saw that it was shaking.

  Closing my eyes and whispering a silent intention, I pressed the knife, first to Tiffany’s hand and then to Quinn’s. I waited silently as they clasped hands together, praying that it would work, praying that the mix of Feydust and X-factor would be able to transfer to the deeply depleted Quinn, to help her, to heal her.

  I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but when I opened my eyes, Quinn already looked like a different person. She was smiling, her eyes bright, a glow radiating from her face. I nodded, and she let go of Tiffany’s hand.

  “I feel . . . different,” she whispered. Looking into her eyes was like seeing a rushing stream that had been locked up in ice. She was almost giddy. But then she took a deep breath, calming herself.

  “I have magic in my blood now?” she said in a voice that sounded like she couldn’t quite believe it.

  I nodded. Tiffany did too.

  “I don’t want to try to . . . do anything without other people there to help, in case something goes wrong.”

  Wise girl, I thought.

  “I’ll be there for you,” Tiffany said. “I’ll give you my number. Seriously, call me whenever you need me.”

  “Me too,” I offered.

  “Quinn, everything alright?” I heard Brenda’s voice calling from downstairs. We must have been in her room for quite a while.

  “Ready to come down?” I asked.

  Brenda’s mouth fell open when she saw Quinn on the landing. Quinn walked over to her, smiled sheepishly and then threw her arms around her mother. Brenda started crying. They just stayed like that, locked in that hug. Truthfully, I don’t think Quinn had ever hugged her mom like that ever, not even when she was well.

  “We should go,” I said, not wanting to interrupt their hug. “We can probably walk to the train station. It’s not far. Um, Reggie will send you an invoice.”

  Over her mother’s shoulder, Quinn smiled at me, mouthing the words “thank you” and “I’ll call you.”

  With a grateful sigh, we slipped out of their house.

  Tiffany and I walked in silence past trimly manicured lawns down the suburban street, until we reached the train station.

  We rode back into the city together. When we got to Penn Station, I turned to Tiffany.

  “Thank you,” I said. “How are you holding up?”

  “I feel a little tired, but I’ll be okay.”

  “Good.”

  I reached into my purse, pulling out a sheet of paper, which I’d copied off the bark parchment Korvus had given me.

  I handed it to Tiffany.

  “These are the names and as much personal information as I could get for all the young women who were affected,” I said to her. “Are these people you know?”

  Tiffany’s eyes scanned the list. “I know most of them. And some of them that I don’t know, their names sound familiar—they could be a friend of someone in the group; I’ll ask around. We’ll track them all down.”

  “If you can’t find them, let me know. I am a P.I. after all.” I smiled at her.

  “I’ll be in touch,” she said as I hugged her goodbye.

  When I got above ground, I saw I’d missed a call from Reggie.

  Standing in the crisp, autumn sunshine outside Penn Station, I called him back.

  “Mab, I don’t know what you did to Quinn, but Brenda just called me. She was crying hysterically . . .”

  “What?”

  “No, no, with joy. She said she hadn’t seen her daughter like that in eight months. She said it was like she was back to her old self. Quinn told her she wants to enroll back in college again, finish her last semester. She’s going out to dinner with her parents tonight. A girl who didn’t leave the house for six months. It’s a miracle. And it was all you.”

  “Thanks.” I beamed, smiling as I leaned up against the building, watching the crowds flow like tides in and out of Penn Station.

  “I don’t know what the heck you did or said in there,” said Reggie, and I shifted uncomfortably at his words. Was he going to ask me how I’d done it? How could I tell him? How could I ever tell him?

  Silence crackled through the line.

  At last he spoke. “But all I can say is you did good.”

  I relaxed at his words.

  “Thank you.”

  “Like I said, I’d written that case off as unsolvable,” Reggie continued. “But you got through. You know, you’ve got a magic touch with people, Mab,” he said, awe in his voice, “a real magic touch.”

  Yeah, magic, I thought. I couldn’t help but smile at the unintentional perfection of his choice of words.

  Acknowledgments

  This was the first sequel I’d ever written, and the first book I’d ever written under a deadline; it’s been quite an adventure! And the outpouring of love and support I’ve received from friends, family, colleagues and readers for the Changeling P.I. series continues to touch my heart.

  To my editor, Rebecca Lucash, a huge thank-you for everything you’ve done. I feel like I’ve grown so much as a writer under your guidance, and I will always be grateful to you for opening that first door. I wish you all the best as you begin the next chapter of your life!

  To my new editor, Priyanka Krishnan, I know this is the beginning of a wonderful partnership!

  To my awesome agent, Jennifer Udden, thank you for always being there for me, for your insightful feedback on the manuscript, your savvy advice on the business and your deep enthusiasm for my books! I look forward to working with you for many years to come!

  To my critique partner
s, Amy Boyles and Michelle Dayton, thank you for all of your assistance in plotting out Book 2. This story would have never come together without your brainstorming!

  To the members of LIRW, my Long Island RWA chapter, thank you for being such a warm and supportive community. Thank you to Kimberly Rocha of The Book Obsessed Chicks, for all you do for us authors, for your wonderful friendship and for always being the best part of our town!

  To my fellow Harper Voyager Impulse authors in the Impulse Authors Unite forum, thank you for making me realize I’m not in this alone!

  To my conference sisters Mia Hopkins, Sienna Snow, and Susan O’Connell—thank you for comforting me when I was freaking out and cheering me when I succeeded. As we pursue our different but shared paths, you continue to make it such a fun ride!

  To Emma Carswell-Engle, Anna Michalczyk, Jeannine Pitas and Sarah Bitner—I am blessed with the best of friends! Thank you for sharing in my joy, for your unwavering support and for all your love!

  Also to Sarah, an extra thank-you for beta reading Chapter Five!

  To my friend Rebecca Himmelsbach—I think of you often, and wish you well. I miss you.

  To everyone at Local One—I couldn’t ask for a better place to work. Thank you for all the camaraderie, your genuine enthusiasm for my author career and for making the office so entertaining!

  Thank you to Mr. Bill Toole, my primary teacher from first through eighth grade—the love of storytelling you instilled in me as a child will be with me forever.

  To my family—thank you for all the well-wishes I’ve received from relatives near and far!

  But most of all, thank you to my parents, Jim and Rosie Vincent. You guys will always be my biggest fans, and I will always be grateful for the bedrock of your support. I love you!

  And thank you to my husband, Matthew Schechtman. Thank you for everything you do that helps me live my dream. For your brilliant brainstorming input in plotting out this story, your excellent suggestions on the manuscript, your help with promo and events and, most of all, for always being so proud of me! In all our ups and downs, the one thing in life I never doubt is your love. Thank you for all the joy you bring. I adore you!