by Megan Derr
"We definitely need to speak with Kerry again," Brayton said, giving up for the moment. He wasn't going to figure out anything yet; there simply wasn't enough information to work with. "As quick as we can."
They did move quickly, though it was tricky matching his much longer strides to Ferdy's shorter ones. That was nothing they wouldn't fix over time, though.
His phone began ringing as they drew close to the edge of the city proper. Brayton wondered absently if they had one of those signs somewhere stating the population, and if it read something like 'Welcome to Midsummer, Population 500 Abnormals, 800 Humans'.
Rolling his eyes at himself, he glanced at the caller ID and then slid it open. "Yeah, Low?" He listened as Low recounted what they had learned from Peter's examination of the corpse, unable to believe what he was hearing.
Low hung up a couple of minutes later, and Brayon slid the phone shut and stuffed it back in his pocket. "So Joni was pregnant, and Peter was able to determine it had a goblin father. How many goblins live in Midsummer?"
Ferdy frowned in thought. "Only three, I think. Kerry, then Jessica, she's got a sweet Harley I take care of regularly. There's also Grizzle, but he's pushing fifty and lives forty minutes south on his farm. I head out there to fix his farm equipment when he needs it."
"Looks like Kerry may be our culprit after all." He worried his bottom lip in thought. "Though, if he's got magic, he's probably long gone. I hope the others can get to him before he manages to get out of town."
"Uh—I don't—I don't think he'll leave town."
"No?" Brayton asked, surprised. "That'd be the smart thing to do."
Ferdy shrugged. "I dunno. He was always funny about it. I remember I had to go out of town a couple of times to do some favors. I had to fix a tractor the one time, and the other time I had to see if I could get this old Dodge to run. But, both times, Kerry was pissed with me for leaving instead of spending time with him. I suggested he come along, and we could make a weekend of it, have a mini-vacation.
"Another time, I wound up needing some tools I hadn't brought. I asked him to bring them to me, but he wouldn't, no matter how I asked him. Finally had to get someone else to do it. I realized later he wouldn't do it because it would have meant leaving town since I was well outside the city limits of Midsummer."
"That is the strangest thing I've heard in a long time. Well, no—strangest thing I've heard tonight. This whole town is still weirder."
Ferdy laughed. "You haven't encountered stranger towns than Midsummer?"
"They're all creepy the way small towns should be creepy. Not all happy cheerful content creepy," Brayton replied.
"Ah," Ferdy said, not looking quite as amused as Brayton had intended. "Where do you live?"
"Anywhere and everywhere, really," Brayton said. "But when I need a break, I've got a nice little cabin me and Pop fixed up nice and tight. Not even a blizzard can manage to get so much as a snowflake inside." He beamed.
"It sounds nice," Ferdy said quietly.
"It is. Nice little place when I need a vacation. Do you like snow, baby?"
Ferdy frowned. "When I'm warm and dry inside and admiring it through the window. Snow is cold."
Brayton laughed. "Yeah, baby, snow is cold. I keep forgetting you no-meat-on-the-bones types can't stand low temperatures."
"It's not my fault my metabolism is crazy."
Brayton snorted at that. Metabolism his ass. He was unable to press the point, however, as Ferdy's house came into view. And now that he was paying attention to more than the wonderful scent of Ferdy, he could tell in a sniff that Kerry had been gone a while.
The bastard had probably left the moment they were out of sight.
He could smell Low, however—and someone new.
As they reached Ferdy's house, he saw a police cruiser tucked off to the side of the house, out of immediate sight. Next to Low stood a tall, handsome figure dressed in the brown uniform of a Sheriff. He had short, curly, brown-gold hair and deeply tanned skin, and a face that would be pretty if it weren't set in such serious lines. His eyes were a pale, yellow-ish green, with the odd glint to them that always said witch to Brayton.
Humans did not typically have magic. Most humans who 'performed' magic were simply alchemists who manipulated natural components to manage things they could not otherwise do. Any human who did possess magic, like a witch, probably had a paranormal somewhere in the family tree.
The witch Sheriff smelled like cinnamon and yellow roses, an odd scent. Brayton sneezed. "You must be the Sheriff," he greeted when he got his sneezing under control.
The Sheriff tipped his hat and said, "Kirby Hindon. You're the lone I've been hearing about all damn night, and what is it now, almost three in the damned morning? Low called me, and I said I'd meet him here. Hey, Ferdy."
"Hey," Ferdy greeted with a smile. "How's the furnace?"
"Keeping my house nice and toasty, thanks again. I swear, you keeping fix shit, and eventually you'll fix it all, and there'll be nothing left."
Ferdy laughed. "There's always something to fix, especially when Mrs. Holly wants the latest gossip."
Kirby flicked his gaze toward Brayton, mouth curving in amusement. Honestly, Brayton would be jealous and possessive of the easy camaraderie they seemed to share, but Ferdy was not even slightly interested in the Sheriff and vice versa. Turning back to Ferdy, Kirby said, "I'm sure she'll be up your way tomorrow—if not sooner—with a broken music box. Seems there's lots to know at your house right now, Ferdy."
"Broken because she keeps throwing them on the floor or going at them with hammers," Ferdy groused. "I wish she'd stop; they were antiques before she broke them fifty times."
Laughing, Kirby clapped Ferdy on the shoulder. "Chin up." He sobered in the next moment. "So Low called and told me about Kerry probably killing Joni. Poor kid. I went to school with her brother; she was only five years behind us. If he'd lived…" Kirby shook his head. "But wishing something were true never got anyone anywhere. I guess we'd best find the wily goblin.
Brayton grimaced. "Won't be easy. If I'm right, we aren't dealing with a goblin—we're dealing with a hobgoblin."
"What?" Kirby demanded, voice cracking out. "That—are you certain?"
"No," Brayton said. "It's only a theory, but…" He quickly explained all that they had discussed at Old Lady West's house and since leaving it.
Kirby made a face when he finished. "Son of a bitch." He touched the radio fastened to his shoulder, barking out codes and names, ordering all his men to keep eye sharp for Kerry, suspected murderer and hobgoblin.
A response came almost immediately. "Suspect seen headed south, Sheriff. Looks like he's headed toward that fishing hole of his, off May Apple Road."
"Roger that."
"Want us to go after him?"
"Negative. I'll handle it. Stay clear, understand me?"
"Affirmative, Sheriff."
The radio fell silent. Kirby turned to Low. "Do you know May Apple?"
"Yeah," Low replied. "We'll meet you there."
Kirby nodded, then turned to Ferdy—
"I'll stay," Ferdy said before he could speak. "I'd just be in the way at this point."
"I wish the rest of the town would show as much sense and willingness to cooperate as you," Kirby said. He clapped Ferdy on the shoulder again, nodded to Low and Brayton, then turned and strode to his car, driving off with a last wave.
"We can cut through the woods," Low said and immediately began to strip.
Brayton tugged Ferdy close for a quick, hard kiss, then followed suit.
Shifted, Low threw his head back and howled, signaling to the rest of the pack. Then he barked at Brayton, before turning and racing off into the woods.
Brayton rubbed against Ferdy in farewell then bolted after Low. They ran through the dark forest at break neck speeds, Brayton close to Low, trusting him to know where they were going, what to look out for.
Several minutes later they burst into a clearing, an unusu
al tang in the air—the smell, Brayton realized, of hobgoblin. Whatever Kerry had smelled like before had clearly just been what he used to mask his real scent. This scent was rank with magic, with herbs and spices, with the forest all around them, and a hint of smoke.
Kerry also looked different—harder, rougher, his nose was already healed. That lazy air he'd carried was gone; he had a harder, meaner edge to him. He wore black jeans and a black tank top and seemed oblivious to the cold though it must be in the lower forties by this point.
"Wolves," Kerry said in disgust. “I've had my fill of goddamn wolves. If not for a wolf, I wouldn't be stuck here, and if not for you, lone, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Come on then, assholes. I'll take as many with you as I possibly can!"
He threw a hand out, casting what Brayton realized only then was wolfsbane—
But then the scent of cinnamon and yellow roses sprang up, and the wolfsbane fell like lead to the ground, its deadly scent going out like a candle thrown in water.
Kerry swore. "Kirby. I should have known one annoyance would summon the other."
"Kerry," Kirby said, stepping from the shadows. His gun was still holstered at his hip; instead of his weapon, he held an amulet in his hand, the silver chain tangled around his fingers—a pentacle twined with roses. Humans with magical ability often found it easier to use with an object of magic to draw and focus the power correctly; something which their bodies could not always do naturally without difficulty. Power adapters, some jokingly called such amulets and talismans. "What's all this damned nonsense? Why did you kill Joni?"
"Accident," Kerry said tersely. "We got into a fight, and it got out of hand."
Kirby shook his head. "If it was an accident, you should have come to me, and we might have straightened shit out."
"You wouldn't have believed me," Kerry snapped.
"I'm not sure I believe you now," Kirby conceded with a nod.
Kerry grimaced. "Anyway, he wouldn't have believed me, and that's way more important than you."
Brayton growled and barked. He? He who?
"Come along now, Kerry," Kirby said. "I don't want to turn this into a nasty little scuffle. I don't care if you are hobgoblin—you won't best me in magic." Kerry sneered. "Where are you going to go, Kerry? Do you really want to do this?" Kirby continued. "Just come along, we'll figure shit out."
"Fuck you," Kerry snapped. "I'm not going anywhere, but out of this fucking town, and I can't finish doing that if I 'just come along.' I don't want to make a fight of this either, but I'll do it if you don't leave me the hell alone."
Low growled and crept closer, hackles up.
"Back off, mutt, I'll—"
Kerry screamed in surprise as he was struck hard from behind and pinned to the ground by two large wolves. There was a flurry of screaming and shouting, snarling and biting, magic and teeth—
But then everything went still, and Kirby was hauling a handcuffed Kerry to his feet with a hand on the back of his neck, muttering something that was probably a spell to keep Kerry's magic under wraps.
Brayton barked and wondered what would happen next, even as he joined the other wolves in forming a small pack as they followed Kerry and Kirby to the cruiser.
"So what happened, Kerry? Why did the fight end the way it did?"
"Fuck if I know," Kerry said bitterly. "She told me she wanted to talk to me. We met in the clock tower like always. She said she was leaving, wanted me to go with her. Now she and I could have a good time here and there, but I couldn't leave. Don't know why she took the fool notion into her head. I tried to tell her what I wanted didn't matter—I can't leave."
Brayton barked.
"None of your fucking business," Kerry snapped.
"She didn't like hearing that, I take it?" Kirby pressed.
"She went fucking crazy. Everything went crazy. Then suddenly she was at the bottom of the stairs with her neck broken."
Silence fell as Kirby stuffed him into the back of the cruiser. Then Kirby leaned down and said, "She was pregnant, Kerry; did she get a chance to tell you that? With your kid."
Kerry jerked and stared wide-eyed, his face going a sickly gray-green. "What?"
Kirby slammed the door shut and moved around the car to the driver's side. Brayton growled and barked at him. Quirking a brow, Kirby said, "Why do I sense this is about Ferdy?" He rolled his eyes when Brayton chuffed at him. "Fine, but it's on you if Kerry pulls something or escapes."
Ignoring him, Brayton barked again and turned away towards the woods, the other wolves falling in around him, Low moving to take the lead as they ran back to Ferdy's house.
When they got there, Brayton saw an unfamiliar car, but the scent on the air and Low's happy reaction immediately identified the owner. Ferdy and Peter were inside, sitting in the living room drinking coffee. Brayton chuffed at Ferdy and whined in demand, pushing at Ferdy for attention.
Laughing, Ferdy shyly pet his head and said, "Uh—if you're looking for your clothes, I put them in my room."
Growling his approval of this, Brayton playfully nipped Ferdy's hand—then put his front paws on Ferdy's lap, leaned up and licked his face, then hopped down and scurried off while Ferdy was still sputtering. He padded up the stairs and into Ferdy's bedroom, loving the way the space was saturated in Ferdy's scent. Only the barest hints of Kerry remained, and they were fading quickly.
Shifting, he picked his clothes up off the bed and swiftly dressed. He could not resist roaming the room, looking without prying, mostly just settling his own scent there. Their smells combined made him growl low and deep in satisfaction. If he had his way, this room would soon be theirs, and no other scents would invade it.
But the sound of a car pulling up dragged his mind back to less pleasant matters. Pounding down the stairs, he only just barely avoided crashing into Ferdy, who oofed as he found himself caught up. Brayton nuzzled his cheek, teeth just barely nipping his chin. "Hey, baby."
Ferdy flushed. "Um—hey. I guess you caught him?"
"Yeah. Kirby is bringing him by to break your curse." He rubbed his thumb over Ferdy's bottom lip then kissed him briefly.
Ferdy nodded, but didn't say anything. Brayton didn't really expect him to; he was astonished Ferdy was taking everything as well as he was. Hopefully, with the curse, gone, Ferdy would regain his equilibrium and be himself again. After that, they could start to figure shit out.
Reluctant to let him go, even if he was excited the curse was finally going to be broken, Brayton half-dragged, half-led Ferdy outside. Kirby was just taking Kerry from the cruiser as they joined the others.
Kerry, Brayton saw, looked oddly subdued. Lifeless, really. All the snarl and bite he'd exhibited before was long gone. It was like someone had flipped a switch and turned him completely off. Or maybe, more like someone had tripped a circuit.
"Break the curse," Kirby said, giving Kerry a shake. "Don't try anything."
"I won't," Kerry said, voice a monotone.
Kirby eyed him. "I mean it. Don't try—"
"I said I won't," Kerry snapped, life flaring up for a moment before it went out of him again.
Frowning, Kirby nevertheless released him from the handcuffs and the binding spell he'd cast. Brayton nudged Ferdy forward, but stayed close, hovering protectively in case the asshole did try something.
Instead of approaching Ferdy, however, Kerry merely brought his hands together and closed his eyes—then drew his hands apart as though tearing something in half, and words of magic poured into the dark morning—
And even as Kirby cried out in dismay, the words stopped, and Kerry fell to the ground. Dead.
Brayton didn't know what to say.
"Why would he do that?" Ferdy asked shakily. "Why?"
Kirby looked grim as he knelt down beside the body. "I don't think he knew she was pregnant. She didn't tell him. Goddamn it, I really do believe it was an accident. What a fucking mess; he should have told someone."
"He killed himself with magic?" Peter asked sof
tly.
"Sort of," Kirby said.
Low growled. "What do you mean?"
Brayton stirred at that, skills and knowledge kicking in. "He broke a curse. Those words were for curse breaking. But breaking the curse killed him. The question is why."
"Here's the answer," Kirby said, indicating a mark low on Kirby's back, just over his left ass cheek.
Kneeling down opposite Kirby, Brayton examined the mark and whistled. "That's powerful work. Whoever cast this was top of his class and probably had the teacher sucking him off."
Kirby snorted in amusement. "That is certainly one way to put it."
"What do you mean?" Low asked, and it was sort of vastly amusing he looked as unused to such comments as Ferdy. They both were slightly flushed, and obviously not certain what to say to it. Man, didn't anyone talk dirty to them? He shot Peter an unimpressed look, but he only rolled his eyes.
Getting back to the matter at hand, Brayton replied, "This curse is extremely complex and powerful. It's what they call a 'binding curse' or, in slang, a cage. Kerry was trapped in Midsummer, just as he said. If he ever left it, the curse would kill him. If he tried to remove the curse, it would kill him. So that's what he did tonight. A curse like this…either Kerry fucked up bad before he came to Midsummer, or someone really hated him. Possibly both. I doubt we'll ever know."
"Killing himself seems extreme," Ferdy said.
Brayton shrugged. "Like Kirby said, I don't think he knew about the baby. He could handle he killed Joni, and I guess whatever he did that got him cursed. I think knowing he killed his own child was more than he could take."
Ferdy seemed to droop. "How sad."
"The entire thing is damned sad, I agree," Brayton replied. "A tragedy start to finish. I wonder who the hell put that curse on him and why."
Kirby shook his head. "I think I know, but I only saw the man briefly and that more than nine years ago. I was still just a wet-behind-the-ears deputy, then. They rolled into town, and the other guy stood out quite a bit. Never got a good look at him, and the next day he was gone, and Kerry was looking for a place to rent. All I remember. I don’t think we'll ever solve the mystery. Help me get him in the cruiser; I'll take care of the rest."