Under the Bridge

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Under the Bridge Page 3

by Dawn, Autumn


  Billy snapped her teeth like a small piranha. She could feel them sharpening as her fae aspect grew stronger. That hadn’t happened in a long time, and she wondered if this dark fae’s presence had brought it out. “I say my family is mine to protect. I won’t give them over to you.”

  “I have a claim,” he pointed out.

  “A toll,” she spat. “We’ll pay it today and fulfill our obligation.”

  “I have enough gold,” he said calmly, and smiled when her eyes bugged out. “Yes, one as old as I might say such a thing. I may choose to take a different forfeit.”

  Billy didn’t know what to say. All her research in her mom’s books said that a troll lived for gold. As bad as dragons, the trolls squirreled away a fortune over their lifetimes. Since collecting their toll was a pleasure seconded only by the acquisition of fresh prey, Billy couldn’t imagine what else he might demand. It worried her.

  He watched her fret for a moment and then stood up. “We can discuss this in more depth later, once I’ve made up my mind.”

  Now that he was leaving, taking the threat of his presence with him, Billy’s mind abruptly focused on other concerns. “Hey,” she said sternly, jumping to her feet. “About your hunting.” He turned very slowly, obviously not accustomed to being spoken to in that manner. Her heart surged in dread, but this was business. “We are willing to pay your toll, and we might even negotiate a reasonable substitute. However, if you persist in hunting humans in this area, we will intervene.”

  Though his body didn’t change, suddenly he seemed to be looming over her. “And what will you do, pixie?” His intent stare reminded her that she was considerably lower on the food chain; mere krill to a beluga whale.

  She couldn’t back down now, or she’d lose face. She stiffened her knees and said sternly, “I know and like many of the people here.” She didn’t make any dramatic statements about being willing to die for them, lest it become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Besides, there was no point in backing him into a corner—he was fully capable of launching himself from it and demolishing her.

  Perhaps he appreciated her approach, for his expression turned crafty. “You like the killers among you, then? The rapists and corrupters of innocence?”

  That was trickier to answer. Of course she didn’t like them, but she couldn’t out and sanction their murder, could she?

  Unfortunately, he took her silence as assent. “We are agreed, then. I will prey only on the predators of your kind. Your town will become the better for it.”

  “Great,” she said weakly, overwhelmed by her ugly bargain, for he was right; silence was agreement. “Then there’ll only be one monster left in town.”

  He laughed gruffly, and mercifully left. Billy sat down rather abruptly on the table. What had she done?

  5. Be practical in dealing with trolls and children.

  “It wasn’t as if you had much to bargain with, Billy. He was going to hunt here, anyway. At least he’s not going to eat me,” Carrie said as she trailed her hand gently over thistle in the back garden. She liked prickly things.

  “Mm. You were practical, Bianita,” Maura said in a rare show of approval. “I’m worried about what he wants in place of gold, though. You really have no idea?”

  “I’m certain he’ll tell us,” Billy grouched. Her ribs still ached. She wanted to backhand Carrie for the sheer stupidity of her actions today. Did she really think she was so untouchable that she took no care to see who she was flirting with? Another day, and she might have been killed. “Rest assured, it won’t be something we’ll like to part with.” She sent a stern glance at Carrie, who countered with an arch glance, unrepentant.

  She should have shoved Carrie under the troll.

  Maura had been livid when she’d heard that Carrie not only couldn’t identify the troll on her own, but that she’d flirted with him. Sadly, it hadn’t lasted. She’d even tried to make peace by praising Billy’s conduct. Of course, the unprecedented compliment had stunned Billy long enough to shift the focus from Billy’s rant about her daughter. By the time she regrouped, her rant had lost steam.

  It wasn’t as if Maura were listening, anyway. Now Billy sat on the steps, slowly shredding a leaf. She wasn’t happy about condoning cannibalism for any reason. The fact that Maura approved just showed that Billy’s gloom had cause. Maura wasn’t known for her stern moral fiber in the face of self-sacrifice. She’d trade a baby for her own life in a minute.

  Unless, of course, it was her baby. That was entirely different.

  “The most important thing, of course, is for you to stick together,” Maura said. “Until the troll is taken care of, we must be careful. If I can’t be with my daughter, you will, Bianita. Her safety has to come before your petty rivalries.” She sighed heavily. “I’ll have to rearrange my schedule too, it seems. Carrie simply can’t be alone.” Her grim expression showed just what a sacrifice it was to give up her leisure time.

  Billy’s lip curled. “I’d rather haunt the troll. You forget your place, Maura. I don’t take your orders.”

  The time in the Wood had changed her. Billy had seen how the old clans worked, and understood the magic that wove them together. Maura couldn’t disobey her. If Billy were still reluctant to issue those orders, it was something she’d have to get over. A matriarch that was not respected, even feared, would not last long.

  Maura’s lips twitched, showing a sliver of teeth. She took a breath, and got herself under control. She was not used to giving obedience to Billy. “We can’t let the troll have her, Bianita. She is my child.” The most precious thing a fae could have, and likely the only one Maura would ever have. Even with her human blood, she hadn’t proven very fertile.

  Billy met her eyes without compromise. She couldn’t afford any compassion, not with Maura. Compassion would get her a dagger in the back. Once the troll was dead, Maura would forget everything she owed Billy and go back to plotting. “Then ask nicely.”

  Maura’s shoulders softened, though her eyes did not. “Please. I don’t want to have to shadow her at school myself. The glamour would difficult to sustain for that length of time.” Maura wasn’t as weak as she pretended, but there were other factors.

  Billy sent a look of disgust toward Carrie. For once they seemed in complete accord. The only thing worse than spending time together would be having Maura in school with them. It would be worse than having the troll underfoot.

  Maura took the silence for assent. Now that she had her way, she tried for a more conciliatory tone. "I am curious what the troll looked like," she admitted. “I've never actually seen one."

  “He's ugly,” Carrie said sullenly. “Big, hairy, dirty. Billy would like him,” she said with a sour smirk. “He looks like a twelve foot sheep dog.”

  “Carrie,” her mother chided.

  “What? She’s the animal lover. After all, her best friend has a horse’s ass.”

  "I could just let the troll eat you," Billy growled. Too bad it would be a form of animal cruelty. The poor thing would probably die of indigestion.

  Abruptly fed up, Billy stood and dusted off her rear end. “Look, I’ve got homework to do. You know the way out.”

  Maura’s lips tightened, but she lowered her eyes. “Of course.”

  Good riddance. Billy got a snack and settled down at the battered kitchen table for a few hours of work. She was trying to get ahead while she could. They were going to need her at work soon, and she needed the extra hours. She was smart enough, but she wasn’t one of the whiz kids who could glance at a book and get an A. It was better than it had been, though. Until now, she’d never had the luxury of spending free time studying.

  There was a reason Billy had been held back a year in school. Her mom’s instruction had always been demanding, but the year she’d turned sixteen, it had turned brutal. Punishing hours in martial science and studies into the pixie magical arts had numbed her, drained every ounce of energy she’d had left. Formally a decent student, suddenly Billy couldn’t focus in
class, frequently nodding off. Her teachers had thought she was on drugs. Though her mom had attended several meetings with concerned teachers, she’d remained adamant. Billy was to focus on what was important; human education was of passing importance.

  She fingered her long dagger, distracted by the memories. The sheath was made of the hide of an animal that could not exist outside of the fae world, and kept the weapons more there than here. A pixie had no trouble drawing it, but a human would not be able to detect its presence. It saved all manner of trouble with metal detectors and cops.

  In her mom’s world, survival was often a full-time job, especially if one didn’t have a large clan. There were rules to follow: court rules of etiquette, and the rule of the uncivilized Wood. Her mom had grown up deep in the Wood where those without woodcraft died young. Since offspring were so rare and special, they could not afford to be ignorant.

  Unfortunately for Carrie, Maura had not grown up in the Wood. She’d schooled her daughter in the arts of credit card usage and husband snaring; her inept fumbling with any kind of weapon was painful to see. Perhaps if Maura has been more diligent, they would not be in this situation.

  She remembered the first time she’d realized just how bad Carrie really was. It had been the beginning of the troubles.

  They’d been sparing on Gran’s orders. (Billy had not known Gran was her mother then.) Billy knew better than to be bored; her Gran would have her practice until midnight if she made that mistake. To stay alert, she’d pretended she was schooling a clumsy beginner. Since it was obvious Carrie had spent little time practicing, Billy took the opportunity to introduce overhand strikes and low strokes, harrying her on all sides.

  In spite of her athletic prowess at school, Carrie was soon panting, slick with sweat. As her sword arm began to slow, it became obvious that she just didn’t have the conditioning necessary to fight long. That wouldn’t have been so bad, if she were good enough to end a fight in the first five minutes. As it was….

  “Enough!” Gran glowered at Carrie, who wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Pitiful.” She glared at Maura. “How could you allow this? What would she do if she had to fight for her life? She would be dead in a day in the Wood!”

  A muscle twitched in Maura’s jaw. “She’s not being raised in the Wood, Mom. There’s not much in the suburbs that could do her in.”

  Gran hissed. “The Wood is our natural home. You know I always planned to bring the girls there to find mates.”

  Billy’s eyes widened in alarm. She had no interest in leaving behind the Internet and mass-made consumer goods for the dubious pleasures of a man-eating wilderness. Even the fae High Court sounded more devious than desirable. Gran made the elven princes sound a great deal like the preppie guys she avoided at school—preppies with swords and killing magic. She grimaced.

  Billy figured she had more chance of ticking one off and ending up locked inside a cloven tree than she did of finding romance.

  Gran went on, oblivious. “Now is the time to prepare them! They are almost ready to bear children. How can we grow our clan without more young? You can’t bear them.” Clans were everything, a seat of power and crown of distinction to those whose line could bear the most offspring. So far, the single births in Gran’s clan were not doing much to increase her street cred.

  Maura stiffened at the reference to her many miscarriages. “Bitter, are you? I’m so sorry I couldn’t grow your clan, Mother.”

  Unable to stand it, Billy broke into the brewing argument. Maybe it was selfish and disrespectful, but she just had to speak up. She tapped the edge of her hand against her palm. “Whoa! Time out. Just wanted to throw out here—I’m so not interested in being a teen mother. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not obsessed with finding a fairy prince, you know? They don’t sound like my type. I’m too young to marry.”

  Gran sent her a look of strained patience. “Be still! No one was talking about marriage.”

  Billy gaped, as she understood at last. The strangled noise she made must have been compelling, or maybe Carrie just felt the same about finding a fae sperm donor.

  “I don’t think so!” she gasped indignantly. “Like I want Angela and Lila talking about me behind my back! I am so not going to walk around fat and pregnant while everyone else I know goes to college. I mean, how am I supposed to find a rich doctor if I’m stuck her in Podunkville?”

  You had to hand it to Carrie—she had priorities, Billy thought.

  “You will do as you’re told,” Gran said in a voice that made Carrie cringe. Billy stiffened as the look was turned on her. “You owe your lives to me! Without me, you would not even exist.”

  Billy’s eye twitched. She swallowed the first words that temper brought to her lips, and flexed her self-control. “Gran, we might love and respect you, but we are not going to whore for you.”

  Gran stalked toward her. One step, but it betrayed her deep temper. “You’ve learned too many human concepts. We live too long to hinder ourselves with mortal ties of fidelity. We are not crawling humans, slaves to jealousy and petty lies of love.”

  “Aren’t we?” Billy said softly. “Fairy kings don’t count, then?”

  Gran straightened. “I was young and foolish. I know better now.”

  “Then I hope to stay young and foolish!” Carrie spat out, and stormed off.

  With a dark look for her mother, Maura followed.

  Billy wasn’t interested in a showdown with Gran, not when avoidance was easier. She’d followed the others while the getting was good, unaware of how this issue would soon cloud her future.

  Billy sighed and set down her unused pen. She hadn’t seen what the urgency was all about. Most people had kids sooner or later. If she ever found someone she’d like to marry, she might even decide to give it a go. Maybe. Kids weren’t really her thing. Still, it hadn’t made sense that her mother…Gran…would be in such a rush. Weren’t old people supposed to be patient?

  She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. Did trolls become more patient as they aged? She remembered how the troll had waited her out this morning, how he’d called her an impatient young hunter. How old was he?

  She wasn’t pleased to be thinking of the troll. Things had been rolling along fairly smoothly until he’s shown up. Then again, if she’d been the troll, she probably would have liked to eat Carrie, too. Too bad she couldn’t let him. Another fae might have sent her to him as a present.

  Frustrated, she left the table and headed for the back yard. She’d practice with her dagger for a while and hopefully bleed off some aggression. Maybe she’d even get lucky tomorrow; he might try to eat Carrie, and she would have an excuse for bashing someone.

  Smiling at the image, she assumed the first position. Tomorrow would be a better day.

  6. Dis-stinkly Bad Day

  “Hey, Billy. Why are you sitting here?” Eyrnie set his tray down next to her, glancing curiously at the crowded table.

  “Duty calls,” Billy said glumly. The table was near the center of the room, right next to her niece’s. Since she could have reached out and bopped Carrie on the back of the head, Billy figured it fulfilled Maura’s requirements. It was as close as they could get and still have their backs to each other.

  Eyrnie wrinkled his nose, but sat down across from her anyway. His dark brown hair flopped into his eyes, but that never bothered him. Today he wore a black t-shirt and frayed jeans that were just a little bit short. They hung on his lanky, coltish form, a testimony to his sudden growth spurt. He’d gone from a slight, quiet teen to a raw-boned, moody young man the summer she’d been in the Wood, and it seemed he was still growing. He struggled to control his energy long enough to get through the days now, and it often made him short-tempered.

  Billy was one of the few friends who understood what he was going through. She usually didn’t mind his mood swings; after all, he was a loyal guy. Though he was blisteringly smart, he’d never made fun of her for repeating a grade, or for her poor grades in high school.
He’d understood about her mother as only another fae child could.

  She eyed his heaping tray. “Still growing?”

  He sighed and ate a burger in two bites. “I had to buy shoes for the fourth time this year. Dad says if it keeps up, I should get a job at a shoe store. At least then I’d get an employee discount.” He grinned. Eyrnie’s dad was bursting buttons with pride over his size. He’d been worried, what with Eyrnie being so short for so long. Now he might just catch up to his enormous father.

  “So why are you letting Carrie pollute your airspace?” Eyrnie asked, loud enough for Carrie to hear. Her head twitched their direction, but otherwise she managed to ignore them.

  Billy grunted. Eyrnie had missed the last couple of days of school, so she filled him in quickly.

  His chocolate-brown eyes widened. “Whoa! Seriously, a troll?” He smirked. “Yeah, I can see Carrie having the hots for him.” They had to speak quietly now, so unfortunately, Carrie didn’t hear.

  “Yeah. He chose a pretty good-looking glamour; it was like dangling a shiny lure to a trout. Too bad she’s dumber than any fish. I had to chase her down and convince her it really was a worm on her hook.”

  He snickered. “You should have let him eat her.”

  An unexpected shadow fell over her, causing her skin to prickle in protest. Billy didn’t want to look up; she had a feeling she knew who stood over her.

  “Nein. We had an agreement…for now.” Before she could object, Ash Bergtagen sat down at her side, making her flinch. She automatically put a hand on her blade.

  Eyrnie reacted rather poorly. As full-blooded pooka, he had no trouble piercing glamour. His eyes flew wide and his nostrils flared angrily as he took in the troll’s true form. His offended snort was a little too horse-like for Billy’s peace of mind.

 

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