Motor City Witch

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  “Aidan called.” George Novak brushed a shock of silky dark hair out of his deep brown eyes as he stepped into her living room. It was cut shorter in back, but hung past his eyes in front—very upscale and trendy. “We were at Jase’s in Royal Oak, so closer than Greg, but he’ll be here soon too.” The Novak brothers ran a nightclub and lived above it in downtown Detroit. Elise was touched that the werewolf brothers would come out in the middle of the night to help her, a relative stranger.

  “I can’t do magic or change into a wolf,” said Jase Monroe in his musical Jamaican accent as the silver beads in his dreadlocks clinked. His chocolate-toned forehead wrinkled with concern as he looked at her. “But I can make coffee and sandwiches or man the phones. Whatever you need, sweetie.”

  What a sweetheart. Elise smiled at the artist who was Meagan’s best friend and George’s lover. She made a spur of the moment decision to start stocking Jase’s pottery in her gallery. She’d damned well sell it, too, even if the rest of the art world didn’t think he was quite ready for the big time yet. Her mind whirred at lightning speed, jumping from one thought to another, anything to avoid falling apart.

  “Can you take me to your daughter’s room?” George laid a hand on Elise’s arm to hold her still for a moment. “The quicker I try to pick up a scent the better.”

  “Of course.” Elise turned toward the stairs with the werewolf on her heels.

  “Making coffee,” Jase called from behind them. Bless the man for his thoughtfulness.

  She heard George strip off his unbuttoned dress shirt and unzip his jeans as they walked. There were a couple clunks as his tennis shoes hit the floor, but Elise didn’t stop moving. He’d need his clothes off to shift and a werewolf’s nose was infinitely better when he was in his four-legged form.

  Elise stopped at Dina’s door and let the shaggy gray-and-brown wolf, his shoulders nearly as high as her hips, pad in alone. She watched from the hallway as he sniffed his way in a tight circle around the bed, before fanning out to include the closet, windows and the door. Nose to the floor, he made his way back out to the hall and finally down to the front door. Elise followed him downstairs and sat on her leather couch when he stopped and darted back upstairs. He returned moments later on two legs, buttoning his jeans, carrying his shoes and shirt in his hands.

  “Two people.” He sat in an armchair across from Elise and pulled on his shirt. “One elf, one—human—I think. They didn’t come through the door or up the stairs. Their scent is only in your daughter’s room.”

  “I don’t understand.” She picked up a magazine and twisted it in her hands. “Elves can’t teleport human beings. Neither can Wyndewin.” As far as she knew, most Wyndewin couldn’t teleport anything at all—at least no one in her family could.

  George shook his head. He was handsome, in a dark, gritty kind of way, but he had eyes only for Jase. “I don’t know, but it explains why they didn’t trigger your electronic alarms. I’ve no idea about magical wards, though. Wolves don’t do a lot of woo-woo stuff.”

  “Coffee’s on, but I thought you might need this, ASAP.” Jase came out of the kitchen, on bare feet—apparently he’d thrown on a pair of cargo pants and an Ann Arbor Art Fair T-shirt but hadn’t taken time for shoes. He handed Elise a steaming mug and set a plate of cookies on the coffee table before perching on the arm of George’s chair. George leaned against Jase’s thigh while Jase rested his arm along George’s shoulder, tenderly toying with the werewolf’s dark hair.

  Elise couldn’t help feel a pang of envy at the happy, loving relationship evident between the two men. If things hadn’t gone wrong, could she have had that with Aidan? Probably not. Neither of them was as warm or open as George or Jase. Forcing herself to drop that train of thought, she sipped the strong oolong tea Jase had brought her, noting he’d laced it heavily with honey.

  Another car pulled up, and Jase moved to open the door as Aidan and one of his security team hurried inside. Aidan nodded briefly at the other men as he strode straight to Elise’s side, dropping to sit beside her on the sofa. His gaze bored into hers. “I swear, Elise, I had nothing to do with this. We’re going to get her back, I promise.”

  She set her tea down and let him take her hands in his as she looked up into those wide green eyes that were so like Dina’s. He looked like—home. Finally, she fractured. All the fear she’d been holding in for the last half hour slammed into her and she fell into the comforting warmth of Aidan’s arms, sobbing for all she was worth.

  ***

  Aidan lifted Elise’s slight weight into his lap and pressed her close against his chest. He tucked her head beneath his chin and looked over her at the other men. Her hair was as soft as he remembered. It was a fight to keep his own voice steady. “Anything?”

  George shrugged. “Nobody came in or out the doors, front or back. It’s like they teleported directly into and out of the girl’s bedroom.”

  “They?”

  “One elf and one something else. Human, but maybe…spicier.” The werewolf frowned. “Smelled kind of like patchouli, to tell you the truth.”

  “But there’s no sign of how they got in?” Aidan searched his memories for some way to teleport humans. Small objects were easy, he did that himself all the time, but living things didn’t usually survive the process—advanced technology or artwork, either, for that matter—something about the molecular disassembly and reassembly not being perfect. As far as he knew, the Wyndewin didn’t have that ability either. He stroked the slender line of Elise’s back as she sobbed into his shoulder and his stomach clenched. Gods knew he’d been longing to hold her again, but not like this.

  “Nothing. There isn’t even any scent near the bedroom window.” George shook his head.

  “The alarm system hasn’t been touched.” Wallis stepped away from the panel by the entrance. He moved off into the condo, presumably to check the other doors and windows.

  “If they ’ported in somehow that might explain getting past the wards.” Aidan racked his brain for ideas. He’d felt the weight of the magical protection field around the house, even though it hadn’t triggered on him because Elise had invited him in. “I don’t know of anybody who wards the center of a room.” Despite their differences, he actually found himself wishing Desmond was around. The mage could be an ass, but he might have a better sense of what kind of magic was used.

  Desmond was hours out of town, so they had to work with the assets they had. Wallis, one of the few Fae Aidan knew who was good with technology as well as magic, returned, shaking his head. “Magic trails and strong ones, but nothing I can place and only in the one room. Whatever it was, they definitely ’ported directly in and out. There was a silence spell, too—that one was obviously elven, but the signature isn’t from anyone I know.”

  “Which explains why Elise didn’t hear anything.” Aidan continued to rub Elise’s back. Her sobs had quieted to hiccoughs, but she was still shaking. “Any idea when?”

  Wallis shrugged. “Hour and a half. Two, tops.”

  “H-how c-c-ould I not kn-know?” Elise wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sleep shirt. “I should have felt something, even if I couldn’t hear it.”

  “Because they made quite sure that you wouldn’t, leannan.” He dropped a kiss onto her silky hair. “Whoever did this obviously knew what they were doing. They weren’t amateurs. None of this is your fault.”

  “If they got past my wards, it definitely was.” Anger was starting to spark in her dark eyes, displacing some of the terror and grief. Good. Fury would help her function. She struggled against Aidan’s hold so she could turn to face the group. Reluctant to let go of her, but understanding her need to be strong, Aidan loosened his arms so she could slide off his lap. He did ’port in an oversized handkerchief, which he handed her to wipe her face and blow her nose.

  “Does Dina have a nanny?” Aidan backed away to the far end of the couch. “Someone who watches her while you’re out or at work? Who might have keys or access to the room
, a way past the wards?”

  Elise shook her head. “Dina goes to a witch-owned daycare near the gallery,” she said. “Sylvia Jones—she’s not a Wyndewin, but she can handle kids with power. If I have an evening event, sometimes she keeps Dina overnight, but Sylvia never comes here.”

  Jase left the room, returning a few minutes later with a tray of mugs and a full pot of strong, black coffee, along with fresh tea for Elise. As everyone helped themselves, the doorbell rang and Wallis admitted Greg Novak.

  George’s older brother was still in the tux he’d worn as Ric’s best man at the wedding, though his tie and half his shirt studs were missing and, if Aidan wasn’t mistaken, one collar point was smeared with raspberry-colored lipstick.

  “It seems to me,” Greg said after gulping down half a cup of coffee, “that the first question is why. Obviously it isn’t about money. Though Elise has thousands of dollars’ worth of art in her gallery, kidnapping isn’t the easiest way to get it. If they could pop in here, they could have just as easily popped into a bank vault. So what we should be thinking about is who you might have pissed off lately, gorgeous.”

  “Well, leannan?” Aidan searched her face for any hint of suspicion, but she shook her head.

  “I haven’t turned down anybody at the gallery and I haven’t been involved in Wyndewin business since before Dina was born. I have no idea…unless…” She turned accusing eyes on Aidan. Her nostrils flared and her lips thinned. “This is about you, isn’t it? Someone saw her today, thought she was yours and came after her to get at you. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

  Aidan had to admit it had crossed his mind as well. The timing was too much of a coincidence otherwise—and he didn’t believe in those. Sick though the idea made him, she was probably right. “Shit, not another traitor in my household.” He turned to Greg. “Where is Fianna? Weren’t you supposed to be watching her?”

  Fianna of the Meadow was a young Fae who had been Aidan’s private secretary until they’d discovered her involvement in the plot to overthrow the queen. As a punishment, she’d been stripped of all her powers and left in the human realm. Aidan had agreed to find her a menial job and keep her under surveillance. He’d turned that task over to the werewolves, who’d hired her as a waitress at their club.

  “She’s with Lana.” Greg poured another mug of coffee. “I checked in on her there as I was leaving the club.” Lana was a cousin of the Novak brothers and another wolf shifter. “They’ve been together all night, first at the New Moon. Later they watched some chick flick up in Lana’s apartment.” Fianna had been set up in one of the apartments in the old hotel building above the club. Since Lana and Greg both lived in the building, they were able to keep a close eye on their charge. “Fianna was never out of sight of either me or Lana all night.”

  “Has she been in contact with any Fae?” There was something odd about Greg’s phrasing, but Aidan wasn’t going to worry about that now. He didn’t think his former secretary was stupid enough to be involved in this, but he had to ask. She’d seen Ric run a sword through her uncle—surely she’d gotten the idea that she’d been on the wrong side of the elven supremacy movement.

  Greg shook his head. “No. She doesn’t leave the building alone and we haven’t had any elves come into the bar except Ric once or twice.”

  “Downtown Detroit is too full of iron and salt for most Fae to feel comfortable.” Aidan had felt that near-painful tingle himself whenever he had business downtown. As the central part of the city consisted largely of decaying steel-framed buildings and warehouses built over abandoned salt mines, what few Fae passed through the metropolitan region tended to hang out in the suburbs. “That’s one reason we agreed to Fianna being there. Even stripped of her powers, it can’t be pleasant for her.”

  “She seems to be adjusting.” Greg stared down at his coffee. There was something about the werewolf’s expression—he wasn’t growing fond of Fianna, was he? That would make things awkward. “Once she wrapped her brain around the idea she was going to have to actually get her hands dirty for the first time in her spoiled little life, she started to settle in okay. I honestly can’t see how she could have had anything to do with this. She wasn’t even at the wedding. I don’t think she’s ever met Elise and I doubt she has a clue that Dina exists, let alone that she’s yours.” He looked up at Aidan as he spoke.

  “She isn’t his,” Elise insisted.

  Aidan ignored her outburst along with Greg’s skeptical snort. “I’m going upstairs,” he said. “Elise? Will you show me Dina’s bedroom?” While Wallis was better than Aidan at reading magic trails, Aidan simply needed to see the girl’s space for himself. Something deep inside his chest insisted she belonged to him.

  “Go ahead,” she grumbled. “Everyone else has.” She crossed her legs beneath her and lifted her tea. “I—I just don’t want to go up there right now.” She twitched nervously though, obviously anxious to be doing something.

  “Okay.” Aidan stood. Greg and Wallis both moved to come with him, but he shook his head. This was something he’d rather do alone.

  He didn’t have much idea of what a four-year-old girl’s bedroom was supposed to look like, but if he’d had to guess, he supposed this would have been it. White and gold furniture filled the space, dominated by a canopy bed hung with gauzy curtains in glittery candy pink. A matching comforter lay in a heap beside the bed. The carpet was apple green and the wallpaper wainscoting had wavy stripes of both shades. Shelves were filled—or had been—with books and toys. Now most of the contents were dumped on the floor. One bed curtain was torn and the framed print of a fantasy castle hung crooked above the headboard. The pink sheets dangled to the floor.

  Thank the gods there was no sign of blood, but it looked like Dina had put up quite a fight for a four-year-old. That shouldn’t make him proud, but it did.

  A sparkly silver hairbrush lay on the floor beside the desk, a few long, dark strands still clinging to the bristles. Perfect. With no qualms at all, Aidan ’ported in an envelope, stuck the hairs inside and stuffed the envelope into the back pocket of his jeans before carefully replacing the brush on the desk. Later, once this was over, he’d arrange the damned DNA test. There was a framed picture there of Dina and her mother, and Aidan couldn’t help himself. He picked it up and compared the two faces, searching Dina’s for any trace of him. Were her ears slightly pointed? Was the line of her chin a bit more elven than human? Impossible to tell.

  It didn’t matter anyway. She was still a young child who’d been forcibly taken from her home by enemies unknown. The only important thing right now was getting her back. If she’d been taken because of Aidan, he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself, but he’d make damn sure somebody paid. Preferably in blood. He wasn’t so far removed from his pirate days as most people liked to think.

  Forcing back the knot in his throat and the uncharacteristic itching of his eyeballs, he concentrated on the magic trails that Wallis had mentioned. Yes, there was definitely elven sorcery present, along with something foreign. There was a familiarity, though, to the more exotic magic, one he kept turning over and over in his mind. As head of Underhill, he dealt with people from all over the world and all varieties of non-humans as well, as long as they were willing to do business with the sidhe.

  Business. Halfway down the stairway, the thought occurred to him. He’d had meetings for the last month with a particular group of investors. He looked at Wallis as he re-entered the crowded living room and said, “Djinn.”

  “Fuck, how could I have missed that?” Wallis smacked himself in the forehead, right below his shock of carroty hair. “Of course.”

  “Djinn?” Elise looked at Aidan as if he was on drugs. “What would a genie want with my daughter?”

  “Djinn are businessmen.” Aidan resumed his seat beside her on the couch. “Most of them, at any rate. And like any group of corporate raiders, some are honest and others are not. Every race has its mercenaries, love.”

&n
bsp; “So a djinni and an elf working together,” Greg said. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find. There aren’t too many Fae willing to mingle with other races. Still doesn’t explain how they beat the alarm system.”

  “Actually, it might.” Aidan tapped his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “Something I learned in the negotiations last month is that djinn don’t need portals to move between the mortal realm and Underhill—which they call the ‘Otherworld.’ They can cross the dimensional veil anytime and anyplace. So if one got to the Otherworld equivalent of Dina’s bedroom, then, yeah, they might be able to come through directly.”

  “Walk up outside the condo in this realm, pick a window and calculate the distance.” Wallis moved his hands as he calculated the possibilities. “Cross over, move that distance in and up…with a ladder, maybe, or some kind of spell, then step through again. Yeah, I can see that working.”

  “Were there any djinn at the wedding today?” George asked. “I didn’t spot anyone who looked Middle Eastern.”

  “Not that I knew about.” Aidan tried to visualize the crowd and pick out individual faces in his mind. “It’s possible someone came in with the caterers, or the band.” How many people had been there, guests and workers included? Two hundred? Three?

  “No, I can vouch for the band.” Greg shook his head. “They play at the club a lot—nobody came in with them that I haven’t seen a hundred times before.”

  “I’ve used the caterer for events before, but I didn’t vet each of their staff.” Aidan tried to think of each face he’d seen throughout the day. “Wallis, did you screen them as they came in?”