Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel

by A. G. Stewart

  It was a sword. A fucking sword.

  “What are you doing? Get out of my house!” I didn’t even try not to be shrill. Protect me? The guy was nuts.

  “Nicole.” He reached out with his free hand and grabbed my upper arm. “I'm going to need you to listen to me very carefully. In about one minute, things are going to get very strange. Your instinct will be to run. Don't. Stay by me and I'll keep you safe.”

  “Strange?” I laughed, and even I heard the hysterical note in it. “You don't know what my life has been like these past few days.”

  “Yeah, I smelled your signature a mile away, just like everyone else in the area. But whatever it is you've been doing here, it won't compare to this.” Firmly, he pulled me into the living room, pushed me toward the wall, and stepped in front of me. “Stay put. There are going to be quite a few of them.”

  “Them?”

  The watch on Kailen's wrist beeped out an alarm, and the sunlight coming in through the windows went dim. Dark spots began to form on my beige Berber carpet and on the linoleum of the kitchen. They grew—about ten of them—black and pooling like liquid. When they'd each reached the diameter of a trashcan lid, they began to bubble.

  Kailen was right. Things got strange.

  Out of the puddles, as if they were stepping up and out of a swamp, came shadowy humanoid figures, one for each pool of liquid. They looked like they were made of a thick and dark fog—I could see through them if I looked hard enough. In place of eyes were two yellow, glowing slits. Each had three shadowy pairs of arms and was as tall as Kailen.

  They all turned in unison, focusing on me. Their eyes didn't have pupils or irises, but I was sure they were staring at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. I had the sudden urge to flee upstairs. If I ran upstairs, maybe I would find out that this wasn't happening. I could close my bedroom door, and leave Kailen and the shadowy figures to do whatever it was they did, as long as it didn’t have anything to do with me. I tensed, took a step toward the stairs.

  Kailen's free hand came up and blocked my way. “Don't move!” he hissed at me. “They'll follow you, and they kill their prey so quickly that I won't have another chance to save your life. They're here for you, not me. Trust me.”

  “Why should I trust you?” I shot back.

  “Because if you don't,” Kailen said, as he slowly removed his hand from in front of me, “you'll die.”

  The shadowy figures rushed us all at once.

  I think I screamed, but I'm not sure. Neither the creatures nor Kailen paid it any mind if I did. They lumbered across my carpet, multiple pairs of arms reaching and grasping. As soon as they came within striking distance, Kailen moved, as quickly as he had when he’d unhinged his sword. He ducked and swayed, moving with the grace of a dancer, all the while remaining in front of me. He never let them get a grip on him. The blade cut through the creatures’ heads, torsos, legs, and arms, dissolving them into smoke and black drops of foul-smelling liquid. One. Two. Three, four, five, six. Four were left, one replacing the next as soon as it had fallen. A thought occurred to me—would the fluid stain? The thought vanished when one of the monsters reached past Kailen to put one of its six hands on my arm.

  It felt cold, like being gripped by someone who'd just come in, gloveless, from a walk in a snowstorm. The chill seeped through my sweatshirt and through the T-shirt beneath that. Shadowy though the hand was, it felt real to me. Something pricked at my skin. Claws. “No!” I cried out.

  Without even turning around, Kailen brought his sword up into the space between the creature and me. It gave a rasping cry as the blade separated the arm from its body. The hand on my sweatshirt dissolved.

  He moved again, bringing his sword out in a sweeping stroke. He caught the last two creatures square in their midsections. They howled before liquefying. The patter of drops sounded as they hit the carpet, and then silence. The sun shone in my windows again, as though it were simply peeking out from behind a cloud. Black specks covered my carpet. Kailen stood there for a moment, panting, his sword held in front of him, still at the end of his last stroke. The scent of his cologne mingled with the sharp tang of masculine sweat. I wished he would never move. Not because he was handsome and standing alarmingly close to me, but because if he didn't move, then I would never have to hear an explanation of what just happened, or to accept that it might have been real—never mind the black marks on my carpet that would probably take hours of scrubbing to get out. It smelled like someone had dragged a week's worth of trash through my living room. Some things, it seemed, just couldn't be wished away. I sighed and tapped Kailen on the shoulder. Better to deal with it.

  Like an automaton, he snapped his wrist twice, and the sword folded away into a harmless-looking tube. He turned.

  “I'll bet you want to know what those were,” he said.

  I crossed my arms. For the first time since he had walked in the door, my head felt clear. “Yes.”

  He pursed his lips, walked over to the briefcase, and dropped the metal tube back inside. “And you're probably wondering why they're after you.”

  “Yes again.”

  Kailen looked at me, eyebrows raised. “No chance I can convince you that they were just burglars dressed in frightening costumes?” He snapped the briefcase shut, but didn't, I noticed, lift it from the table.

  I didn't even dignify that with an answer. It just hadn't been a good enough day for me to have any sense of humor. “You're going to tell me what this was all about, or I'm calling the police.”

  “Okay, okay,” Kailen said, hands held up in a gesture of surrender, “but don't blame me if you don't believe me. Those were hobgoblins. Nasty critters. Very grabby, as you noticed. They get a hold of you with any two of those arms, they'll tear you into pieces. They may look foggy, but cut them in any of their vitals, and they dissolve.”

  “Hobgoblins.” I repeated, slowly.

  He shrugged. “People are discovering new species all the time—guess they just haven't gotten around to hobgoblins yet.”

  Something—call it instincts, call it a bullshit meter, call it whatever you like—told me he wasn't giving me the whole story. “And you're a lawyer who's here to protect me,” I said flatly.

  “Yep.”

  I made my way to the kitchen counter, where the only landline phone in the house sat in its cradle. “I'm calling the police.” I picked up the phone. I pressed the call button and stopped. The number to the police station wasn’t something I’d memorized, and 9-1-1 was overkill at this point.

  The light tickle of a breeze brushed against my neck. I turned. Kailen was gone, as was the briefcase. It was as if he'd never been there at all. I stepped gingerly around the island, phone held in my hand like a weapon. When I reached the area where carpet met tile, I lowered my hand. The only reminders of what had happened were the black stains on my rug. I looked to the right. My front door remained shut.

  A squeaking sound, loud and insistent, began to emanate from the cupboard next to my microwave. “And there's more?” I said out loud, to no one in particular. I went over and opened the door. There, on the lowest shelf, was the brown mouse. It had chewed a hole in my bag of pasta. The spilled noodles neatly spelled, “MEJANE.”

  I slammed the cupboard door shut, grabbed my keys and purse, and fled the house, my heart leaping in my chest.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I didn't sleep as well as I'd planned to that night. I’d wandered the grocery store, picking up a few things before returning home. After dinner, I even encouraged myself with a nightcap. Images of the hobgoblins kept flashing in my mind, despite my best efforts to forget. And then there was the fact that this was only the second night after I’d caught Owen in bed with Mousy Jane. It made me wonder when that had started, and whether or not anything between Owen and me had been real at all. I tossed, turned, and managed to fall asleep somewhere in the realm of two 'o clock.

  The dreams followed. Dreams of mo
nsters made of black smoke, with six arms and clawed fingers. One had its cold hand on my arm, gripping it so tightly I could only flop from side to side, helpless. As I watched, one of its other hands approached from the other direction, narrowing the gap between us. It seized my opposite shoulder. A burning pain started at the center of my chest as the creature pulled with unnatural strength.

  I woke screaming.

  A few things happened all at once.

  The light at my bedside flicked on without me touching it. The shock of the bright light in my eyes made me yell all the louder. A figure leapt up beside my bed, and I saw the quick, indistinct flash of steel. I covered my face with my arms.

  “What is it? Is something there?” A man's voice. My eyes began to adjust to the light, and my mind to being awake. Kailen's voice.

  He stood over me, still wearing his button-down shirt from earlier and a plaid pair of boxer shorts—the tie, jacket, and slacks discarded. I blinked and passed a hand over my watery eyes. Nope. Still there. This, apparently, was reality. Slowly, my vision adjusted. He held that same sword in his hand, pivoting from side to side, his gaze sweeping all four corners.

  “What are you doing in my bedroom?” I said. Horror of horrors, I actually found myself scrambling onto Owen's side of the bed. I stopped and shook my head. “No, scratch that. What the hell are you doing in my house at all?” My gaze found the clock. “It's four in the fucking morning.” I was dressed only in a T-shirt and shorts, so I grabbed at the quilt at the foot of my bed, wrapped it around myself, and stood up. There. I felt better now that I was on my own two feet and didn't have a strange man looming over me.

  “I was sent to protect you,” Kailen replied. He looked me in the eye and didn't seem the least bit ashamed. “I’m not going to shirk my duties just because you can’t seem to understand that they’re needed.” He scanned the room and relaxed. “Nothing, then, just a dream.” He glanced at his watch, snapped the sword shut, and in one smooth motion was lying on the floor next to my bed again. “Go back to sleep. You’ll need to rest before we leave.”

  I tiptoed over. He lay stretched on his side on the carpet, a towel for a pillow and a bed sheet for a blanket, his eyes closed. Looked like he’d raided my linen closet. “I’ll call the police.” I threatened again. I half expected him to disappear as soon as the words left my mouth.

  He shrugged, his back to me. “Go ahead. You saw how well that worked for you last time.”

  I bit my lip. “Do you mean how you just disappeared?”

  Kailen sighed, as if I were the one disturbing his sleep. “Yes.”

  “How did you do that?”

  He turned his head and cracked an eye at me. “Weren’t you going to go call the police or something?”

  “What if I did?” I snapped back. My mind tried to filter through the current situation—strange man who did not have my permission to be in my house, giving me lip from the floor of my bedroom.

  He said, while yawning, “I’d chop you in half with my sword.”

  I froze, considering. “Really?”

  “No. I’m just trying to get you to shut up so I can get some sleep.”

  He may have been done with our conversation, but I certainly wasn’t. I grabbed my bedside lamp and placed it on the floor, in front of his face. He groaned and covered his eyes with an elbow.

  I put on my best no-nonsense voice. “I need answers from you and I need them now. So help me if you don’t give me what I want, I’m going to…to…stick my hand in a fire.”

  He turned over, opened his eyes, and narrowed them. “You wouldn’t. That’s a stupid thing to say.”

  I marched toward the bedroom door. “I have a gas stove, you know. This won’t take long.”

  “Nicole, wait.”

  “Be back in a few,” I called cheerily over my shoulder, “just as soon as my hand is nice and crisped.”

  Something touched my elbow just as I reached for the doorknob. I looked down to see Kailen’s hand. Odd. I hadn’t even heard him move. “Wait,” Kailen said. “I’ll answer your questions.”

  I turned around and was again struck by how tall Kailen was—and how good-looking. This close, the heat from him pulsated beneath his skin. I had the sudden urge to shrug off the quilt wrapped around my shoulders, to take another step toward him. “I was saying something,” I said slowly, “something important.”

  “Couldn’t have been that important if you forgot,” Kailen said. He smiled, his gorgeous hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. “Why don’t you just go back to bed?”

  I was tired. I looked back at the bed. My gaze fell on the bedsheet Kailen had been using. I frowned. It was the bed sheet I’d caught Owen and Jane in. Mousy Jane. Owen kicked out. Divorce lawyer. Kailen. Hobgoblins.

  Questions. Right. “Wait. I have questions.” Kailen had both hands on my shoulders, and was rubbing them in a soothing manner, his hands warm and strong and… “Stop!” I took a step back. My head cleared. “Don’t touch me.” I remembered, too, the enticing scent of his cologne. “Actually, go to the other side of the room. I don’t want to be able to smell you either.”

  Kailen backed up.

  “No more distractions,” I said. “First question—who are you?”

  “Kailen MacDiarmid.”

  Okay, simple enough. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m an attorney.”

  This was getting me nowhere, fast. I thought things over before formulating my next question. “Is that all you do?”

  His lips shut tight as a submarine door. Aha. He shook his head.

  “What else do you do, Kailen MacDiarmid?”

  His lips remained shut, his brows low. I waved my hand in the air. “My gas stove isn’t going anywhere.” My gas stove isn’t going anywhere? Way to sound threatening.

  “I’m a mercenary. A Fae mercenary.”

  I blinked. Not exactly what I’d expected. “What? You’re gay?” That—well, it wouldn’t explain anything. Nothing at all.

  He glared at me. “Fae. I’m a Fae mercenary. I specialize in protection—people, objects, animals—you name it. And I make my home in the mortal world. Sometimes this is useful for the Fae.”

  “So you were sent here to protect me,” I said, following one thought to another. “Who sent you?”

  “The Aranhods.”

  Not a name I was familiar with. So this guy must have some crazy idea in his head that he was sent here by someone to protect me, and he'd picked up a cool little sword on the way. I had to admit he knew how to use it. And then there were those nasty critters in my living room. I wasn't sure yet how to explain those away, but I wanted to. “What's an Aranhod?”

  Kailen shook his head, an amused little smile on his lips. “Not what. Who. They're an old Fae family, used to be very powerful, not so much anymore. Well-respected though. Liked.”

  This was getting good. Like plot-to-a-novel good. At least he was interesting-crazy. “And why would they want you to protect me?”

  He tilted his head back and let out a long breath, as if he were trying not to laugh. He brought his gaze back down to look at me. “You really don't know, do you? I'm going to bet that no one's told you. Thirty-two years old and nobody's told you.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Told me what?”

  A crash sounded from downstairs. Kailen and I glanced at each other, and we came to some sort of silent truce. He went to my side of the bed and grabbed his sword. His gait was like a panther’s—all smooth, silent, and padding grace. No wonder I hadn't heard him move before. He brushed past me and started for the door, but then pivoted. “Nicole,” he whispered. “Come with me. Stay close.”

  I stepped so close to him I was sure he must have felt me breathing on his neck. What? Wouldn't you do the same? No, I don't like being ordered around by men who apparently think they know more than I do, but neither was I going to stay in my room alone when there might be freaky monsters loose in my house. Besides, he had a sword. There’s a certain comfort in s
harp, pointy things when they’re not pointed at you.

  We crept onto the landing and then to the stairs. Despite my best efforts, I was about ten times louder than Kailen. All my joints popped as I walked, and even my bare feet seemed to sweep against the carpet with all the subtlety of a bear crashing through the brush. He glanced back at me a couple times, gaze laced with irritation, but really, it was the best I could do.

  At the bottom of the stairs I reached for the light switch, but he grabbed my hand and shook his head. No lights. Fine. He walked toward the kitchen. The orange street lamp from outside shone through the front window, upgrading the lighting in my house from pitch black to minimal visibility. I stepped in something cold and wet and almost yelled, right then, until I remembered the black spots on my floor. I wiped the moisture off on my next step and tried not to think about how it smelled. Kailen’s arm came back, stopping me.

  We stood at the edge of the kitchen for a moment. The faint gleam of his sword shone in front of me. I held my breath.

  “Nothing,” he said. I did jump then. His voice sounded too loud after all the silence. He reached over and flipped on the kitchen lights.

  My kitchen, clean when I'd left it, was a mess. Something had rifled through my cupboards and tipped a glass bottle of soy sauce onto the floor. The shattered pieces lay scattered over the tile, mixed in among the brown liquid.

  Kailen's head tilted downward, his gaze trapped by something at his feet. “Oh, Nicole. You didn't.”

  “What?” I leaned around him, the side without the sword, to see what he was looking at. On the ground was a little brown mouse, its paws covered in soy sauce. It had used the liquid to spell something on the ground—“I am Jane. Help!”—complete with punctuation.

  Kailen put his sword on my island, knelt, and extended his hand. The mouse hesitated for a moment and then crawled onto his palm. He turned around and presented the mouse to me. “This is Jane. Jane meet Nicole. Nicole meet Jane.”