When Hardy didn’t move or say anything further, I squinted at him, at a loss for how to proceed. Since the payment was apparently a topic that was off limits, I moved on to another.
“You said my mistress sent you?”
Hardy’s shoulders tensed slightly and Laurel sucked in a quick breath. I glanced at him, but he looked just as unpleasant as ever and I knew he wasn’t going to be of any help.
“We still have not had the pleasure of speaking to her. We understand we are not worthy. Please tell her we meant no disrespect in asking for your help in such a trivial matter. If she should choose to punish us for wasting your time, she need only summon us.”
“Hunh.” I considered the fear in Hardy’s voice and decided I was more than happy I wasn't who they thought I was. This mistress broad sounded like kind of an asshole. Before I could ask any more questions, Mel shifted, drawing my attention. He made an unsubtle gesture to indicate I should get rid of the fairies and I rolled my eyes. I don’t know if Hardy saw Mel or just decided he was done with me, but he spoke, still bowing low.
“May we take our leave?”
Without hesitation, I nodded. “Please.”
They were gone in an instant, leaving me standing as still as I could manage, staring at the box in my hand. Cautiously, I set it on the table.
“What do you think it is?”
“Payment,” Mel said simply.
“Cash?”
“Doubtful,” he replied. We both took a step back, still staring at the box. After a moment, I let out a nervous laugh.
“You think I should… I mean, will I be okay if I open it?”
“I have no idea. I don’t have much experience with this. For all I know, their usual form of payment is a pet tarantula that likes the taste of empaths.”
“Shut up,” I said, glaring over at him. Mel was smiling but his gaze was on the box. Turning back to it myself, I let out a grunt of unhappiness. “I’d like to get out of here.”
“Back to my place, then?” Mel asked.
I pretended he hadn’t spoken. “Is Chloe coming back to meet us?” I didn’t want to just leave the potentially deadly blue box for her to stumble on later.
“No, she said she’d probably be out for awhile, not to wait up.”
“What the hell is she doing?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Well. All right. You can take me home, then.” I pointed at him threateningly when he aimed twin finger-guns my way. “Where I will spend the night alone, without you. It’s already going to take me ages to get the smell of your cheap cologne out of my guest sheets.”
Mel paused on the way to the office door, turning to scoff at me. “My cologne is anything but cheap.”
“Well, then you overpaid because it makes you smell like an old lady.” I flipped the lights off, waited until he’d shut the door, and then leaned in to lock up. When I turned to Mel, he didn’t look happy with me. Of course, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Before your place, though, I’m supposed to show you something,” he said as we approached the elevators.
“If you’re planning on taking your pants off, I’ll run screaming for the nearest cab.”
Mel sniffed, looking offended. “With your attitude, I wouldn’t show you that, anyway.”
“Then I’m doing something better than every other woman in Seattle.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I was able to keep quiet for maybe five minutes before my curiosity reared its ugly head.
“Hey, so you said you don’t have experience with this. How does that work?”
“Oh, I have plenty of experience with driving. I’m quite good at it, actually.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“What’s that about my dick?”
“Probably syphilis. Answer the question.”
Mel snorted, but didn’t force me to keep up the banter. “I’m a werewolf, but that doesn’t mean I spend time with fairies. We’re close relatives of theirs—descendants, technically—and better regarded than humans like you, but still not terribly popular. As a general rule, we’re ignored. I’ve come across the more powerful fairies here and there, even enjoyed the intimate company of a few, but mostly I prefer to pretend they don’t exist.”
“Because they give out boxes filled with empath-eating spiders?”
“Because they’re a pain in the ass. And honestly, because I don’t actually have to deal with them. With a few exceptions like Evadne, they don’t live here, really.”
“In Seattle.”
“On this… planet.” He paused to think. “I guess. I just know they can travel between here and their realm, but they usually don’t bother.”
“And their world is, what? Narnia?”
“You’d call it Fairy. It’s not a really original name, but it’s not the official name, either. Only they can even pronounce the actual name. I saw someone try once and it literally tied his tongue into knots.” Instead of letting me stew on that unpleasant image, Mel gestured vaguely and continued. “If they can pass as human, some fairies or creatures of Fairy will hang around our realm, but generally they think people like you and werewolves like me aren’t worth talking to.”
“Well, joke’s on them because I’m a delight.”
Mel shot me a look I couldn’t quite decipher but didn’t like. I stuck my tongue out at him and continued with the interrogation.
“If you don't deal with them, how'd you know how to handle them back there?”
“Handle them?”
“Well, like, I was gonna ask about the blue box but your eyebrows told me to plead the Fifth.”
“My eyebrows did what?” His tone threw me and could have meant confusion over my phrasing or self-consciousness over his brows.
I shook my head. “You did a wiggle thing with your face and I figured it meant I should shut up.”
“It wouldn't be the first time you should have shut up,” Mel said, and I couldn't argue. I do tend to run my mouth more often than is smart, but it had never bothered Mel before. In fact, half the reason I disliked him is that he’d occasionally make suggestions about what I could be doing with my mouth other than talking. “But the long and short of it is that it's never a good idea to appear ignorant in front of something that much more powerful than you are.”
“Well, then, thanks for the wiggle.”
“I’ll give you a—”
“No.”
Mel laughed at my instant refusal but didn’t try again to seduce me. He was quiet for awhile as I went over the information he’d given me, wondering why, if I wasn’t worth talking to, a pair of fairy scouts had shown up in my office thinking I worked for someone way above their pay grade. Come to think of it, why had Evadne been willing to help Chloe when she wouldn’t help me?
“Hey!” I exclaimed as another realization shot like lightning through my mind. “You weren’t freaked out by Chloe at all!”
“Should I be?” Mel asked, turning to lift a brow at me and check his blind spot before switching lanes.
“I mean, she had that funky stud-finder rock and she told you to get me wet, and then there was the phone call to Evadne, and she was pretty ballsy with the suit and you seem cool with it all.”
Mel was quiet for a moment, making me think he might actually be considering my question. Instead, he smiled, his eyes still on the road. “Chloe told me to get you wet?”
“Oh jeez,” I grumbled, crossing my arms petulantly over my chest. Then, reconsidering, I shot my hand out and whacked his elbow. Mel laughed, ignoring the assault. We drove in silence for another minute while I stared out the side window and tried not to give Mel any more openings. When I realized the double entendre in even that, I hit him again.
Mel snorted and I wondered if he'd been reading my mind, or if he just found it funny any time I got mad at him, whether he knew the reason or not.
Before I could settle on an answer, we pulled up in front of a Craftsman-style home in Queen Anne. T
he yard was free of foliage, sporting a no-maintenance rock garden instead. The windows looked odd but I couldn’t place why until we got closer: they had been boarded up inside with dark wood. There was no car in the driveway and the door sat back on a small porch.
“Did Chloe buy me a house?” I asked as Mel turned off the ignition.
“On the meager salary you pay her? Please.”
“How do you know what I pay Chloe?”
Mel shrugged, turning to climb out of the car instead of answering. I grunted in annoyance and followed him out, hustling to catch up when he strode straight up the walk. I was halfway to the small porch when I slowed, trying to figure out what I was feeling.
“What is this?” I asked, stopping as my empathy registered a soft tingling along my skin. Even my arms started to prickle with goosebumps, despite my warm jacket. “What are you showing me?”
“Why?”
“What’s here?” I demanded, spinning to face the streak of light that swished through my peripheral vision.
“Relax, you’re safe. You probably just feel the sprites.” Mel grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward the door. “They’re harmless. Nature fairies.”
“You swear? I’ve been attacked enough for one week. If I get smacked around again, I’m blaming you.”
“Come on.” Mel pulled me up onto the porch, parked me next to him, and then reached out to knock on the door. His knuckles made a sound like they’d hit solid steel and I raised my eyebrows. We stood in silence for over a minute but Mel didn’t look bothered. I jolted when a voice finally rasped out of a nearby speaker.
“Come to gloat?”
“Let us in,” Mel ordered. The voice didn’t respond immediately and I wondered if Mel had dragged me to some secret underground gambling club. Was I about to enter a smoke-filled room where men sucked on cigars and women sashayed around in breast-boosting corsets, breakneck heels, and kitty ears?
“The fish flies at midnight,” I mumbled, leaning close to the door as if it and I were in cahoots. Mel turned to me, his brows knit. “That not the password?”
He didn’t answer, just turned forward as the heavy sound of a lock unlatching boomed. The door slid open slowly, as if auditioning for an old horror movie.
The inside of the house was blindingly bright. I squinted and let Mel go first, using his broad body to partially shield myself from what might have been halogen lights. Once inside, Mel stepped wide from the door and I did the same. The steel beast closed on its own, just as slothfully as it had opened.
My expectations about what the inside would look like could not have been further from reality. The house had been gutted, turning what once might have been a kitchen, living room, and dining room into one massive space. Other than support beams and the staircase, there was nothing but open, dark wood floors and plain white walls occasionally interrupted by the dark wood covering the windows. The upstairs was as bright as the downstairs and looked to be just as empty.
To the right was the only actual room I could see from my vantage point, left vulnerable through a doorway lacking a door. What once might have been the living room to my left held a metal bench and two metal folding chairs. At the back, from what I could see behind the staircase, sat an industrial kitchen dominated by a massive, shiny refrigerator making a low humming sound. I stepped further in, peering through the open doorway into what might have been a bedroom.
Not a single prancing waitress or fat mobster. What a disappointment.
A man stepped out from behind the staircase, moving toward us at a glacier’s pace. He was above average height and probably would have been attractive had he not been so close to death. He was completely hairless, with sunken eyes and thin lips. He kind of reminded me of Mr. Burns but without the beak-like nose. In fact, he actually looked less healthy than his cartoon counterpart. He stared at me with intense brown eyes, scanning me slowly from head to foot. When his gaze got to my shoes, his eyes went a shade crazier and he pulled a travel-sized bottle out of the pocket of his green scrubs pants and tossed it to me. It was hand sanitizer.
“The least you can do is clean yourself,” he rasped. I fumbled with the tiny bottle, squirting some into my hands. Tucking the bottle under my arm as I rubbed the alcoholic mixture into my skin, I glanced at Mel. He was hanging back, as close to the door as he could get, silent as a dead hooker. There was a small smile on his face and I had yet to figure out why.
Giving up on getting answers from him, I turned and held the bottle of sanitizer out toward the other man. He shied away, pointing spastically behind me. I found that I had failed to notice a metal trash bin tucked just to the right of the front door, full of barely used bottles just like the one in my hands. I rolled my gaze toward our host cynically and then dropped the bottle in with the others. He must have spent a fortune on the stuff and I wondered why he let anyone in at all.
“Why are you here?” he demanded. “What do you want?”
I shook my head, jerking a ninety-nine percent germ-free thumb at Mel. “This one dragged me here. I didn’t even know where we were going.”
“Liar.” As the man whispered his denial at me, I found myself looking around the room again. He stood toward the middle of the cavernous bottom floor, glaring at me like I had invited a toddler into his china shop. Finally, I turned back to Mel.
“Would you please tell me what we’re doing here? Why you brought me here to see this…” I glanced back to the man, trying to figure out what he was. I could feel from the slow, syrupy glide of his emotions that he wasn’t human, but that was as far as I could get. “Person.”
“Look at him,” Mel said. The other man breathed out, the sound a dry, angry wheeze. I really didn’t want to do as Mel said, but I figured he probably wouldn’t drive me home if I refused. Turning back, I did my best to really look at him, ignoring the fact that his emotions felt kind of like being felt up by Slimer in a dingy janitor’s closet. I met his eyes and felt myself go still. Something in them was familiar, slithering down my throat and grabbing hold of my heart with a mouth full of sharp fangs. I took a step back, my eyes gone wide.
“You,” I whispered. I was too distracted by the feel of his emotions to realize that he was advancing on me, that my step back had somehow resulted in him taking three steps forward. Whatever he was feeling oozed over my skin like a snail trying as viciously as it is able to mate with a rock; I couldn’t name it but when it filled my chest, I felt sick with worry. I found that I was shaking my head, my eyes drawn to the fangs I hadn’t previously noticed peeking out from under his lip.
“Dirk,” Mel said, his voice a low warning. Dirk’s gaze left me and moved to Mel. They squared off for a moment before Dirk peeled back his lips to reveal pale gums and gleaming fangs. I yelped, wasting no time in darting around behind Mel and using him to shield me.
“Get out,” Dirk growled, his skeletal hands curled into claws.
I tugged on Mel’s shirt. “Let’s. Please.”
“We’ll go,” Mel said, moving forward. I tried to hold him back, irrationally scared for his safety, but I might as well have been a leaf snagged on his sweater. He dragged me forward a step. “But if I hear you’re cavorting with any more demons, I’ll be back. And don’t bother calling me for blood anymore.”
Dirk hissed, turning as fast as his spent body would allow and moving back toward the staircase. His pace was slow, but he took the time to throw us three fang-filled growls as he went. Now, however, I found them as threatening as a sleeping puppy.
Mel looped his arm over my head and around the back of my shoulders, moving toward the door. It opened as slowly as it had before and Mel ducked us through as soon as the opening was big enough. We were at the end of the walkway when I stopped, moving away.
“What the hell?”
“Chloe suggested it.”
“Harassing the angry vampire?”
“He can’t really hurt you. That was the point.”
I blinked at him, shaking my head. “What?
” I demanded.
“She thought you might want to know that, without a demon in his pocket, he’s harmless as a mosquito.”
“Mosquitoes spread disease, kill entire villages!”
“You know what I mean.”
“And what if he does hook up with another one? What if he decides to come after me for taunting him?”
“That’s what the sprites are for.” Mel moved toward the car, used his fob to unlock it, and opened the passenger door. “They’re under orders to watch him, to make sure he doesn’t gain any power he shouldn’t have until it’s his time.”
“...his time? What does that mean? And what if he decides to come after me then?”
“Well, you’ll be long dead by then, but we can tell your children to watch out. Or your great-grandchildren’s kids, if I understand the whole thing right.” Mel paused as I convulsed, swiping at the air when another sprite lit up my peripheral vision. “Get in, Grandma. I’ll take you home.”
A sprite came at me from my other side, making me yip. I could see them when I wasn’t paying attention, but looking directly at them was impossible; they were nothing but a phantom glow at the edge of my vision. Lacking a better option, I darted forward and climbed into the car.
***
Once home, the first thing I did was check the locks on all the windows and doors. Then I showered, put on my most comfortable clothes, and checked all the locks again. Sonny perched on my shoulder working at a hunk of broccoli as I eyed the poetry-covered door of the fridge and wondered two things: what did I want to eat, and what the hell was I supposed to do about this prophetic candy thief?
He’d been pretty helpful, all things considered. But that didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t keep him out of my home, office, or Twinkies.
Sonny and I went into my office, where I dug around in my desk trying to find my pack of sticky notes. I found an old box of cheese crackers, a pair of socks, a half-eaten candy bar (only half-eaten? Had I taken a blow to the head I wasn't aware of?), and finally some purple sticky notes. Setting Sonny on his perch, I hunkered over the note as I finished off the candy bar, trying to decide what I wanted to say to the thief and if it should include a thank you or two for the help he’d given me.
Mixed Feelings (Empathy in the PPNW Book 1) Page 24