Under the Bridge

by Dawn, Autumn

  No one apologized, but the men proceed to ignore each other.

  It wasn’t a long drive to the lake. Maura hadn’t said exactly where Carrie had been killed, but Eyrnie had made some calls, and the fae grapevine knew. He pulled into the parking lot and pocketed the keys. “She was found off to the right, just past the playground.”

  Ash stepped out of the truck and took a deep breath. “Smells like blood,” he said appreciatively.

  Billy sent him an aggrieved look and brushed past, pretending he wasn’t giving her the willies. “Track it down,” she muttered. A storm was blowing in and the lake was deserted. She could see flashes of lightning a few miles out.

  Eyrnie also had his nose to the wind, but he let Ash lead the way. She didn’t blame him. Better not to let an enemy guard your rear.

  Ash led the way down past the trees and to the water’s edge. There was nothing obvious at first glance; lots of footprints and shovel marks.

  “They dug up the bloodstained sand for evidence,” Eyrnie guessed, looking around. “There’s still plenty of death smell, though.”

  “Show me where it’s strongest. I want to know where the body lay.”

  “Here,” Ash said, walking over to a spot nearer the trees. He indicated a tree. “Look at the damage here; they chipped off some of this bark, probably for evidence. She was flung at this and fell. They shoveled up the earth for evidence, too.” He smirked at Eyrnie’s suspicious look. “I’m the better hunter.”

  Billy sighed at their posturing and moved closer. She studied the ground and the tree and knelt to grasp a handful of dirt. Softly, she spoke in the Old Tongue. “Show me what happened.” She flung the dirt into the air.

  Everything stilled. The dirt hung in the air, motionless and then separated into two parts. Some of it swirled into the air, and the second half drifted down to form a thin outline of Carrie’s remains.

  Billy took a shuddering breath. She could understand Maura’s mad grief better now. Carrie’s jaw had been pried open and dangled, held on only by a strip of flesh. Her ribs poked up where the chest cavity had been pried apart. Her hands looked shredded, and one leg was bent in an unnatural angle.

  Billy's gorge rose. If Maura had seen this….

  “Took the heart and tongue,” Ash observed with interest. “Looks like the liver’s still there, so maybe they weren’t just after the delicacies.”

  There was a click as Eyrnie took a picture. “At least we have proof she had a heart.”

  Billy shot him an angry look.

  Eyrnie raised the camera in apology. “Sorry. Evidence.” He didn't apologize for the comment, but he did raise it to take pictures of the dust form that hung in the air above Carrie.

  Billy tore her eyes away from the corpse long enough to see what he was looking at. She drew a sharp breath. “A banshee? Is that what that is?” She'd seen pictures, but had never met one in the flesh.

  The dust shrouded the outline of a woman who hung in midair. Her clothes fluttered in rags around her decomposing body, gaping to show where the occasional bone peeked through rotting flesh. An unseen wind stirred her hair and rags as her hands extended into claws...claws that gripped a human heart and tongue.

  * * *

  Eyrnie glanced at her worriedly as they pulled into her driveway. “You're not going to throw up again, are you?”

  Billy closed her eyes. She was light-headed with guilt and stress, actually leaning against Ash, her head on his shoulder. She didn't have much choice if she wanted to stay upright. She hadn't cried, though, and she felt stronger than she had when they'd packed her in the truck. “Nothing left,” she assured him softly. The truck stopped, and she stared at the rain snaking down the windshield. She had to get out, but didn't want to move.

  Eyrnie tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “I could stay for a while. You don't have to be alone.”

  She stirred to tell him she was fine, but Ash made a scornful sound and opened the door. “Of course we stay. I'm starved.”

  She looked at him in annoyance, but slid out of the truck. She had to save her poor, unsuspecting fridge.

  Ash waited impatiently while she unlocked the wards, somehow giving the impression that he could have done it faster himself. She might have thought twice about letting a troll into her home, but she doubted she could stop him if he were determined.

  It was probably best not to allow a hungry troll to roam the town; no telling who would end up as lunch.

  She felt crowded as she led the way into the kitchen, and finally gestured to the fridge as she got out of his way. “Help yourself,” she said with chilly sarcasm. He promptly buried his head in the fridge.

  Eyrnie stood in the kitchen, looking ill at ease. “I haven't been here since your Gran...er, mom was here. You never did tell me what happened to her.”

  Busy watching Ash take a bowl of eggs and assorted veggies from the fridge, Billy answered with an absent frown. Was the troll actually going to cook? “She's napping in a tree at the moment. I'm hoping she'll be in a better mood when she wakes up.”

  When he just stared at her, she said defensively, “You weren't there.”

  He snorted and took a seat at the table. “So clue me in.”

  She ran a hand through her hair and reached for the teapot in reflex.

  Ash nearly bit off her hand. “I'm cooking here!”

  She jerked her hand back defensively. “I need the kettle! Besides, it's my kitchen.”

  His eyes narrowed, glinting yellow. “Never argue with a troll about food.”

  It had been an awful day. Billy was feeling mentally bruised, certainly not up to pushy company, but she knew better than to challenge the hunger in his eyes. His movements spoke of barely controlled violence, and his warning held real menace.

  He might be old, with control gained over centuries, but he was still a troll. His natural food was human, and he'd been exposed to blood and death. The frenzy he must be fighting could boil over at any moment. Best to leave him be.

  He relaxed a little when she averted her eyes. After a moment, he added grudgingly, “I'll heat the water.”

  “Big of you,” she muttered, and yelped as his egg-crusted wooden spoon whacked her bottom. It wasn't gentle, either.

  “Quit while you can,” he advised, and Eyrnie choked on a laugh.

  She snarled at both of them, then headed to the pantry and plucked a jar of tea off the shelf. She ought to poison the monsters.

  Eyrnie eyed the tea as she spooned it into the teapot. Maybe he knew something of her thoughts, for his tone was respectful when he suggested, “You were telling me about your mom.”

  She sighed in aggravation, but accepted the redirect. It was marginally better than dwelling on her aggravation. “She tried to force me to hook up with a fae sperm donor. I nearly killed him and locked her in a tree.” She shot him a defensive look. “They didn't give me a choice.”

  “He tried to rape you?” Eyrnie demanded, aghast.

  “He tried to stop me from leaving the Wood. He was pretty clear about what would happen after,” she clarified, carefully setting the pot on the table. She took a seat, feeling tired.

  Eyrnie seemed stunned. “Your mom was okay with that?”

  She put her hands behind her neck and arched to relieve the tension the memories brought. What she wanted to do was smash something. “It was her idea. I wasn't cooperating. Children are treasures,” she said, baring her teeth. “She wanted more with king's blood.”

  Eyrnie was silent as he digested that. Ignoring them both, Ash poured hot water into the teapot, letting it steep.

  “Well, good for you,” Eyrnie finally offered. Carefully, he added, “I imagine she'll be ticked when she eventually gets out of there, though; that kind of magic doesn't last forever. What are you going to do when she comes back?”

  She'd been trying not to think about that. She wasn’t going to give up her freedom, but it might cost her. “Depends on what she does. I won't let her take me back. If she brin
gs another “suitor” with her, if they try to force the issue again...I will kill him. If she lets me, I'll try to lock her up again.” She'd managed it the last time only because she'd surprised her mom. She might not be so lucky the next time.

  Eyrnie watched her gravely. “You need to keep your friends close, then. It would be better if one of us takes care of this.”

  She looked away, out the window, and waved her hand at the kitchen. “You're already invading my house.” The smells from the stove were becoming mouth-watering. Despite herself, she glanced in the troll’s direction. He'd ignored their conversation, seemly intent on the food.

  It hit her at odd moments, the beauty of his glamour. He was quite a specimen as a human, and she wondered idly if other trolls thought he was hot. Of course, such things were rather fluid with a fae. He could stay in human form for a hundred years and no one would guess what he truly was. Save for his unnatural strength, he would be all man to a woman's senses.

  Grimacing at the direction of her thoughts, she looked away. “We should set the table.”

  “I'll get it.” Eyrnie had been here many times and knew where everything was stored. Robbed of something to do, she sat and stared at her empty teacup until Ash put a plate of food in front of her.

  “I'm not really—” she broke off at the look on his face. Grudgingly, she picked up her fork. The troll was a tyrant in the kitchen, but his food surprised her. “Oh. Hey! What is this?” She couldn't believe he'd coaxed so many flavors out of the ingredients in her cupboards.

  “Mm. Good,” Eyrnie said, shoveling in his own food. As an afterthought, he poured everyone a cup of tea. Apparently, Ash was okay this that much involvement in the food prep.

  “Just eat,” Ash said, devouring his own giant helping with an almost savage focus. If it had been a live steer, it would have been torn to shreds and gulped, still mooing.

  Billy was still feeling angry, unsettled, and she felt like needling him. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she said to Eyrnie, “Don't pester him when he's eating. A troll's hunger is his curse; they're mean until they're sated.”

  Ash lifted his head. His eyes were glazed, more monster than man. There was a chilling heartbeat when he looked at her and she could swear all he saw was meat. The short hairs on her arms rose, and she tensed to move fast.

  He blinked and refocused on his plate. After a moment he shoved a bite in his mouth. He seemed okay again.

  Billy released a quiet breath, trying not to draw his attention. A glance at Eyrnie showed the same release of tension. She was going to have to be careful about whom she teased.

  She managed a few more bites, but her heart wasn't in it. The tension had returned, reminding her of why they were here. At least now she knew what had killed Carrie. What she wondered was, “Why did the banshee choose Carrie?”

  “Could have been coincidence.” Ash looked over and confiscated her plate, finishing that, too.

  “No way,” Eyrnie said flatly. “Two heavy-hitting fae show up within days of each other? Trolls and banshees aren't known to cross lightly into the human realm. It's uncomfortable in this world of iron.”

  “Your sire and dam managed it,” Ash said coolly. He didn't seem too offended. He was eating from the pan now, hopefully filling the corners.

  “They were motivated. Besides, they escape to the dream realm every night.” His dam had been promised to another stallion, but once Eyrnie's sire had laid eyes on her, there had been no other for them. He'd battled for her and won, but the defeated suitor’s powerful family had forced them from the fae realm. They never complained, but there were definitely difficulties for those who were born Underhill in coping with the human world. Like Billy, Eyrnie was much more adapted to this world than theirs.

  “So what do you think, Ponyboy?” Ash seemed amused, but watchful. There was the sense that he expected Eyrnie to come up with something intelligent, if not accurate.

  “I'd heard that the banshee serve the Winter Queen,” Eyrnie said, undaunted. “Billy is a child of the Summer King. Everyone knows that the courts are always at war.”

  Billy raised her hand, trying to stop the flow of privileged information. She wasn't even sure how Eyrnie knew what he did.

  He ignored her sputtering and rolled right on. “I think the Winter Queen found out about her. She would love to take away his child. Counting coup, you know.” He looked at Billy's stunned face. Gently, he told her, “If she knows, you can bet your father knows about you, too. He'd send somebody, if just to make sure you lived.”

  Billy shoved away from the table. She turned her back on them and leaned on the counter, her hand fisted in the back of her hair. He was right, and her own words haunted her. Fae children were treasure, and the child of a king...well, was there a more valuable prize?

  She tried to control her breathing as she heard Eyrnie say, “I think your father might have sent a troll to watch over his daughter. That, or he's about to kill you now.”

  There was a short silence. White-faced, she whirled to stare at Ash, but he was regarding Eyrnie thoughtfully. “He might have, but for one thing. I didn't kill Carrie when first I saw her, because I'm of the age to take a mate. I was considering her. Of course, the banshee put halt to that, but for the same reason, the Summer King would not choose me. Kings do not mate their offspring to trolls.”

  He looked at Billy. “That's why I'm here. There are no troll women, and humans are fertile, well able to settle for a pretty face. Many are more than happy to abandon troll offspring when they are born; they are not usually beautiful, you see. If they survive pregnancy, we give the mothers gold and send them on their way when the child is weaned.”

  “If they survive. You mean some get eaten.” She felt strangled; it was so hard to breath.

  He looked regretful. “Mm. And young are so very vulnerable without their mothers.

  “Humans are the most practical choice, though. Some of the fae can get...unhappy when something happens to their kin. It's just one more difficulty to mating there.”

  “And you thought you could mate with Carrie?” she demanded, incredulous. “As if Maura would not care?”

  He shrugged. “Carrie had an almost troll-like appreciation for gold. She was in no hurry to part with what her mother had given her as ransom. Did you not notice? She was found still wearing the toll she owed me.”

  She shook her head, trying to make sense of his words. “Then you sent the banshee for her?”

  He frowned. “You're not listening. I explained this. She owed me her life; I thought, why shouldn’t she become my bride, rather than my meal? I wanted her living.”

  “She has a right to be shook up,” Eyrnie pointed out. “We're throwing a lot at her.”

  “But you’re a troll,” Billy sputtered in protest. Her brain seemed to have developed a tick. “I mean….” She waved her hand up and down him, at a loss for words. “Really.”

  “She liked me well enough, when she thought I was human. It’s the reason I chose this form,” he pointed out reasonably. “It makes women want to mate. My face, my scent, my form,” he looked directly at Billy. “It's irresistible.”

  11. Irresistible

  “Irresistible,” Eyrnie scoffed. “Welcome to modern world, bub. A pretty face doesn't guarantee you'll get laid. Some girls have better taste.”

  There was a glint in Ash's eye. “A challenge? Careful. I am not new at this, young one.”

  “Get out.” Billy cut across whatever Eyrnie started to say. She'd simply had too much for one day. She needed peace to process things, and she couldn't have it, not with both of them camped at her table, arguing over stupid stuff. A girl was dead, and they wanted to spar over who could get laid?

  Eyrnie immediately lost his smile. “No. We can't just let you alone. If I'm right about the banshee—”

  “You might not be.”

  “You don't know that.”

  “I have wards.”

  “There are ways around wards,” Ash sai
d calmly. “You are upset now, but it’s nothing to how you'll feel if the banshee is killing you.”

  She huffed out an aggravated breath. It was just too much to deal with. They were too much. “You know what? You do what you want. I just don't have the patience to deal with pigheaded jerks anymore. You want to guard my yard? Fine, do it—from the porch. Neither one of you is welcome in here tonight.”

  “Cool,” Eyrnie said, not the least offended. “I'll stake out your lawn tonight.” As a pooka, he didn't need sleep, and his stallion form was powerful. She might not want to admit it, but she couldn't ask for a better bodyguard.

  Ash seemed thoughtful. “This could be amusing. I'll stay and watch—from the porch,” he added in response to her dark look. Judging from his small smile, he seemed to have regained his sense of humor.

  “I don't need two of you,” she grumbled, but she was sick of arguing. They ignored her anyway.

  She went out to check on her bantams. The gardens and woods behind her house were peaceful, still. If a banshee had been haunting them, she'd have known it.

  The odds were that the banshee, if it were hunting her, would try to get her alone. They didn't like to expose themselves to large numbers of people, for a crowd could overcome even a banshee.

  Banshees were stealth hunters, and they gained power by stealing the voices of their victims. Their voice could cause ears to bleed, and they flew on a storm wind. The Winter Court used them as assassins, and they answered to no one but their queen. From what she'd heard, they were very hard to kill. Decapitation or fire was the only way she knew.

  Rain was still spitting, and it seemed to be getting worse, so she headed back inside to make a new pot of tea. Eyrnie was at the kitchen table, his books spread before him. He looked up and patted the chair next to him. “Here, have a seat. I'll fill you in on what you missed today.”

  She sent him a look of annoyance as she prepared some white rose and mint for the tea. “I quit, remember? I don't need to do homework.”