by Terri Reid
“Em,” he repeated, his voice slightly slurred. “I think I might…”
She caught him as he passed out and gently dragged him back down the hall to his bedroom. Sliding up close to the bed, she angled him over and finally laid him across the bed, his legs dangling off the side. “I’m sorry,” she said to the sleeping man. “I’m afraid to pull you for fear I’ll pop your stitches.”
She pulled the extra blanket from the bottom of the bed and covered him with it, then turned and switched off the bedside lamp. Leaning over, she placed a kiss on his forehead. “Good night, Sean,” she whispered.
He smiled in his sleep and her heart fluttered.
“Good night, Ma,” he replied, and then he rolled over on his side and began to snore.
Chuckling, she shook her head and smiled down at him. “You’re nothing but a big, blundering dolt,” she said tenderly. “Sweet dreams, Sean O’Reilly.”
Chapter Seventy-three
The well-dressed man burst into the private interrogation room at the Chicago Police Department’s Twelfth District office. “What the hell did you do?” he screamed at the detective sitting on the other side of the table.
“What do you mean?” Adrian Williams asked, leaning back in his chair.
“You know good and well what I mean,” the man continued. “The Hunt was supposed to show up at Grant Park this afternoon, and nothing happened.”
Adrian shook his head. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.
The man slapped his hands on the other side of the table and stared down at Adrian. “Don’t you play games with me, Detective,” he said. “I own you. I tell you what to do. And I tell you how to do it. You were under strict orders from me to order the Hunt to Grant Park in time for the Children’s Concert, and you screwed it up.”
“Is that enough?” Adrian asked.
“Enough?” the man bellowed. “What the hell do you mean is that enough?”
Adrian stood up, placed his hands on his side of the table and leaned towards the man, the detective’s large frame looming over the irate man. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he said.
“What?”
The door opened behind the man, and Sean, Father Jack and Aengus stepped inside the room. “It was enough for me,” Sean said. “How about you two?”
Aengus stepped forward and grabbed the man by his collar, lifting him off the floor and shoving him into the wall. “Lugh. You are a traitor.”
The faerie did not squirm but met Aengus’s gaze with an equally vitriolic one of his own. “Who is the traitor here?” he spat. “The one who sits back in luxury while his brethren are trapped in the underworld or the one who fights for their freedom?”
“And how does killing innocents aid your cause in any way?” Aengus countered.
“There are no innocents in this war,” he said. “If they are not the Unseelie, then they are our enemy.”
“Children?” Sean asked. “Children are your enemy?”
“They will grow up,” Lugh replied. “They will grow up and follow the beliefs of their parents. The only way we will ever be truly free is if they are destroyed and we have rule over the entire world.”
Aengus tightened his grip, and Lugh’s face turned red as he fought for breath.
“Aengus, he will be of little use to us dead,” Father Jack said softly. “He is not the head of this organization. He is only a hot-headed messenger boy and eminently expendable.”
“I am not a messenger boy,” Lugh growled.
“Then why were you not told that the Hunt was defeated last night and sent down to faery?” Father Jack asked, his eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “Surely, those above you would know the happenings in faery. Surely, if they valued you, they would not have allowed you to walk into this set-up. Obviously, they were willing to sacrifice you.”
He shook his head. “No,” he argued. “No, they would not do that.”
Jack pulled a pair of old handcuffs out of his pocket and grabbed Lugh’s arm, clicking the cuffs around his wrist. Lugh screamed in pain.
“Sorry, these old handcuffs are made of cast iron,” Jack explained. “They are the only ones that seem to work when I’m dealing with the fae.”
Aengus released his hold on Lugh’s collar, and the faerie fell to the ground. Jack grabbed his other arm, pulled it behind him and slipped the other handcuff on. “Now, Aengus, I believe we would both like the opportunity to question Lugh,” he said. “And I will be happy to remove these handcuffs for you, once he’s answered my questions.”
“Fine,” Aengus replied, looking down at Lugh in disgust. “But once we are done questioning him, I will see to his…” He paused and smiled serenely at Jack. “Disposal.”
“That’s according to the rules of the treaty,” Father Jack agreed. “And I won’t argue that.”
“Wait,” Adrian said. “I don’t think we can let you do that.”
He turned to Sean. “Can we let them take our prisoner like that?”
Sean leaned back against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, and met Adrian’s eyes. “What would you charge him with?” he asked.
Adrian opened his mouth several times and finally shook his head. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “I got nothing.”
“I do have a request,” Sean said, turning to Aengus.
Aengus nodded.
“Your buddy, Lugh here, messed up my friend’s mind,” Sean said. “I want you to take care of it so he’s no longer getting updates from the bad guys.”
Aengus strolled across the room and placed his hand on Adrian’s head. He started to close his eyes, but then they popped open in surprise. “What the…”
“Oh, sorry,” Adrian said then pulled his baseball cap off his head and removed the small stainless steel bowl beneath it. “Insurance.”
“Indeed,” Aengus remarked, his high eyebrows reaching even higher.
Once again, he placed his hands on Adrian’s head, closed his eyes and whispered to himself. After a few moments, he stepped away.
“How do you feel?” Sean asked Adrian.
Adrian stood silent for a moment and then nodded his head. “Yeah, I feel better,” he said. “There’s no more ringing in the back of my head.”
“You are welcome,” Aengus said sardonically.
“Such a sweet guy,” Sean said. “And if you took better care of your own subjects, we wouldn’t have been in this mess, would we?”
Aengus glared at Sean. “You should learn some respect.”
“My parents taught me to show respect,” he said. “But first you have to earn it. So far, I haven’t seen anything but a spoiled, rich brat with a bad sense of fashion. Grow up and start taking some responsibility for your people, and then I’ll show you some respect.”
Grabbing Lugh by the back of the collar, Aengus slammed open the door, stormed out of the room and down the hall.
Father Jack inhaled deeply and walked slowly to the door.
“Father,” Sean said, stopping him in the doorway.
Jack turned back to Sean. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” Sean said. “That was probably out of line.”
Jack met Sean’s eyes and smiled. “No, actually, it was perfect,” he said. “And I wish I had had the courage to do that a long time ago.” He chuckled softly and started walking out the door. Then he stopped and stuck his head back inside. “I’m glad you’re on the team, Sean. You’re going to make things a lot more interesting.”
The End
About the author: Terri Reid lives near Freeport, the home of the Mary O’Reilly Mystery Series, and loves a good ghost story. She lives in a hundred year-old farmhouse complete with its own ghost. She loves hearing from her readers at [email protected]
Other Books by Terri Reid:
Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series:
Loose Ends (Book One)
Good Tidings (Book Two)
Never Forgotten (Book Three)
Final
Call (Book Four)
Darkness Exposed (Book Five)
Natural Reaction (Book Six)
Secret Hollows (Book Seven)
Broken Promises (Book Eight)
Twisted Paths (Book Nine)
Veiled Passages (Book Ten)
Bumpy Roads (Book Eleven)
Treasured Legacies (Book Twelve)
Buried Innocence (Book Thirteen)
Stolen Dreams (Book Fourteen)
Mary O’Reilly Short Stories
Irish Mists – Sean’s Story
The Three Wise Guides
Tales Around the Jack O’Lantern
PRCD Case Files:
The Ghosts Of New Orleans -A Paranormal Research and Containment Division Case File
Eochaidh:
Legend of the Horseman (Book One)
Romance:
Bearly in Love