Curse of Iron

by D. D. Miers

  Cole was alone in the office when I dropped my tote on my chair and waved. “I’m going to take a shower because I can’t remember the last time I bathed, and I’ll help you wade through the backlog,” I called out to him.

  “Thought you got the day off,” he quipped, “but you just keep coming back for more.”

  “I’m just here for your company, Cole. Besides, I got yesterday off. It’s past midnight, and we both know Orson isn’t going to give me two days off in a row for personal shit.”

  “Yeah, I know. Enjoy your shower. Think of me.” I laughed at him and shook my head. Cole was a nice enough guy, and good looking in his scruffy, biker way, but he was one hundred percent horny human male. The last thing I needed was the complication of an elf-struck coworker.

  Even so, I took my time in the shower, grateful we had the amenities for bounty hunters to clean up when they came through town on big skips. The accommodations weren’t exactly spa quality, but after being dragged out of my apartment, held in an interrogation room smelling of body odor and old cigarettes, then on the move for however many hours more after, it felt like heaven.

  Clean and redressed, my mood improved considerably. Puck was back from his late-night deposit, and he and Cole were lounging at Pen’s desk when I came out. Cole dropped a mountain of files in front of me as I sat down, chuckling as he swaggered off.

  With an exaggerated groan, I shuffled through the pile, prioritizing them so I’d know where to start. One file caught my eye, the name across the tab was Sylvie Calhoun, another magic junky like Will who hung out at the gym. I’d sparred with her a couple of times, and she was as friendly as you’d expect a human magic-groupie to be with a Fae witch. Which meant I might finally be able to break a real lead.

  I slipped the folder in my bag and checked the clock. Still early, but the hardcore fighters would already be at the gym, working out before they went to their day jobs.

  “Hey, guys, do y’all want food? My treat.” I figured I’d hit the gym and talk to Sylvie if she was there, and grab breakfast to make up for my disappearance.

  “Breakfast burritos!” Puck yelled. I jumped and laughed and glanced at Cole, who grinned back at me.

  “Big fucking burritos sound pretty good to me, right now. You getting us horchata too?” I spread my hands wide. “Duh, what’s a BFB without horchata.”

  “Make mine chorizo,” Cole interjected, “and don’t forget the peppers.”

  I wrote down his and Puck’s preferences and grabbed my bag, heading out to my car. The closest all-night Mexican joint was a few blocks away, but too far to walk, which was one of the reasons we all had our own transportation. The bail bonds office wasn’t in a nice part of town—unlike where the shifters and the witches lived—we were more easily accessible to the poor people we normally catered to. It also meant as much as they respected us when they needed our help, it was risky to be out at night unless you wanted a fight.

  The last thing I needed at the end of the weirdest day ever, was to have to beat up a down-on-his-luck mugger who mistook me for someone helpless, based on my small size. I worked with enough of those guys to have too much sympathy, Orson chewed me out for it all the time. But I’d also seen him pull money out of his own wallet to pay for someone’s bail when they just couldn’t handle life without help. I chose to follow his actions, not his words, and except for a few dustups, it had worked pretty well.

  Of course, my piece of shit car refused to start, and I banged my head on the steering wheel. I sat in the car for a moment as a shiver went down my spine. Someone really is watching me. It was the same warning I’d gotten at Kiersten’s, but I’d thought it was just her mother. I glanced around, using my rearview mirror to avoid telegraphing my scrutiny to whoever’s magic I was sensing.

  A shadow moved near my rear bumper and I jumped and swore, turning in my seat and reaching for the knife I kept in my center console. No one was there, but as I turned to face forward, a knock at my window made me shriek and throw myself back, so my butt was in the passenger seat and my feet were pointed at Detective Mills.

  “Holy shit lady,” I slammed my fist on the dashboard and righted myself. “Are you insane?”

  She stared in the driver’s side window and watched me right myself. I’d dropped my knife on the floor like an idiot, so I left it in the hopes she hadn’t seen it and didn’t use it as an excuse to arrest me again. I rolled down the window and arched an eyebrow at her.

  “You’ve been busy since your lawyer sprang you,” she drawled, and I scoffed at her.

  “What, you’ve been following me?” I shook my head. “Have you even considered I might not be responsible? That you’re letting someone get away with a murder because all you care about is pinning it on me?”

  “I follow the evidence.” She tapped the door and jerked her thumb at me to get out, which I did, slamming the door shut behind me.

  “I believe human cops do, but you’re full of bullshit. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn you already know who did it and were ready for a signal to break into my apartment.”

  “You had better watch yourself, Silk.”

  “Or what? You and the coven will finally get what you’ve wanted since I was born, a legal order of execution?”

  “You were warned to stay away from the covens, and yet you flout Wiccan Law every chance you get. I will expose you for the monster you are, whatever it takes.” I stared at her until she looked away, glancing toward the lit windows of Tell’s. She met my eyes again, but we both knew she’d lost, even though the fear tightening her eyes made my throat close over.

  “Am I under arrest? Because there is no legal order on me, preventing me from going anywhere in the Bay Area, so where I go is technically none of your goddamned business, unless you have actual evidence of a crime?”

  “Until you’re behind bars, you will never be alone.”

  I nodded, hugging myself. “Understood. But Aunt Portia really is slipping, if she thought you were the scariest thing she could send after me.” She blinked, her eyes widening. “Just make sure when you come for me, you’re protected by the right laws, detective, because if you don’t, I’ll protect myself by whatever means necessary.”

  I opened my door, forcing her to step back, and got in the car, waiting until she was gone to try to start it again. Of course, it turned over on the first try. I sat in the parking lot a while longer, until my nausea subsided, and I stopped shaking.

  How much longer would I be able to protect myself and the people who had been kind to me? If I failed, who would they hurt next in their quest to eradicate the memory of me from the world?

  Ten

  Loud music and the rhythmic pounding of leather gloves on the heavy bag greeted me when I walked in the door to the gym. I waved to Will and scanned the crowd. The ladies had the ring, and two of my favorite sparring partners were kicking each other’s asses, but I couldn’t see Sylvie anywhere. It wouldn’t have been hard either, her deeply tanned skin, and perfect platinum hair stood out, even among the fighters.

  “Hey there girlie, what’s up with you?” Will draped one arm around me and hip checked me at the same time, his version of a hug. He felt dark, tired, his energy low, and I craned my neck to look up into his face.

  “Are you okay, Will? You seem a little…drawn out.” He flinched and chuckled, patting my shoulder.

  “Sometimes I forget you’re part Fae, until you hit me with a level of honesty humans avoid, and it smacks me across the face.” I shrugged and waited for an answer. Will wasn’t the kind of guy to ask for an apology for honesty, and he was one of the few humans I knew who had associated with the Fae, so I knew he wasn’t offended. “Yeah, okay, maybe I’m a little worn out. Been hitting the juice a little, trying to keep ahead of the kids who think they can unseat me.”

  “Be careful, okay? You have so many tattoos I’ve been worried a little lately. You’re the best, magic didn’t make you, hard work, talent, grit…"

  He held up his ha
nds in surrender. "Okay, okay, I know, I'm a demi-god." He dropped a kiss on the top of my head and stepped away, calling out to one of the kids who hung out and helped with towels and janitorial work in exchange for boxing lessons. “Sorry, squirt, they want to learn to be boxers without paying for it, but no one wants to change the wafers in the urinal.”

  “No big, Papa Bear. I was just looking for Sylvie. I figured she’d be in with the early crowd.”

  “Calhoun? I haven’t seen her in a couple of days. I think she had some new employees over at the spa and needed to do training. I’d check there.”

  I thanked him and took one last look around the gym. Every person I could see, male or female, had familiar sigils inked into their arms, necks, calves. Some warlock was making a killing, and the scene reeked of magical malfeasance. One kid who couldn’t even be eighteen yet curled his lip at me, his sleeve rolled up on one arm to display still wetly shining blue ink. Once I get my own damn self in the clear, this place is next.

  I picked up breakfast for the guys and dropped it off, apologizing profusely until Cole told me they’d seen the detective at my car and hadn’t expected me back for the rest of the day. “We tried to step outside, and the goddamned door wouldn’t open. When I came around from the back, she was already gone, and I figured you looked like you needed a minute.”

  “Fucking cop bitch. Is she even allowed to use magic like that?” Puck added, bits of egg falling from his mouth as he talked around his food.

  “No. But I don’t know there’s much we can do about it. Magic and mundane haven’t been combined like this long enough for the humans to have figured out everything the witches are hiding.”

  “I hate politics.” I agreed with Cole. Politics wasn’t something I did. I had compassion, to a point, but unless I needed to, I didn’t dance around the truth.

  “Look. I need to check in with somebody.”

  Cole scoffed and nudged Puck. “Does it have anything to do with the file you swiped?”

  “Yeah, she’s a friend. Let me try to talk to her before you jump on her, okay?”

  He nodded and rolled his eyes. “Why not? Everybody else has done it a dozen times, and this is the first time you’ve even admitted to having a friend.” He shooed me away and grabbed the top few files from my "high priority" stack “I’ll let boss man know you’re trying to save us some money by talking to your friend, and you were in all morning.”

  I left them to their breakfast and my work then took off for the tanning salon and aesthetics spa Sylvie owned. It was always strange to me when a woman as successful as she was, was constantly getting arrested for prostitution.

  She certainly had the looks to get attention from wealthy, horny men. I’d seen her on the covers of local news reports on the arms of multiple wealthy and important men and heard the gossip about more in other states and other countries.

  I parked on the street and went to the back door of the spa. I knew the doorman, Reggie, would be checking IDs. “Hey, Reginaldo! Looking good man.” I held out my driver’s license, but he just pushed it aside and dragged me in for a bear hug.

  “Reg…need…to…breathe…” He laughed and released me, but he held onto my shoulder for an extra split second as he checked to make sure I was kidding. “Just a joke, big man. Just kidding. You give awesome hugs."

  Reggie was a giant of a man, towering over Grayson, and twice as broad in the shoulders. He’d been shot in the head as a teen, a botched execution, leaving him a little slower and more childlike as an adult than he’d been at seventeen.

  “I like your hoodie, but Sylvie will make you…take it off.” He reminded me.

  “No problem, big man.” I took off the offending sweater and laid it on the rail next to him. “Can you watch it for me?” His face lit up and he nodded until I was sure I could hear his teeth rattle.

  He pushed the hoodie behind him so it was protected by the small overhanging roof he stood under and opened the door for me. Sometimes I worried about him out there alone, afraid he’d be an easy mark. But I’d seen him in the ring with Sylvie on occasion. She took care of him, made sure he had his own money and had given him the ability to fight for himself. Next time I come here, I’m bringing one of Digger’s flak vests. He’s the only one big enough to borrow from.

  Inside, the place was humming with industry as: “Hey-o, it’s g-girl,” was called out by one of the aestheticians. I waved to her and continued to the reception counter, where a pretty brunette with the name "Patty" on a plastic nametag greeted me.

  I pulled out my wallet and held it out of sight under the edge of the counter. “I’ve been all over town looking for Sylvia. She isn’t here, she isn’t at the gym…I need to give her a head's up.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  With an annoyed sigh, I held out a twenty, and from the speed she took it, I could’ve started a lot lower. “What do you need to know?”

  “Sylvie knows the big boys in town. I need to ask her a few questions and get this skip in her file taken care of before Orson hauls his troll ass down here and uglies the place up."

  The girl giggled as her fingers flew over the keyboard. Orson was a troll, but contrary to popular nursery tales, he wasn’t ugly at all. Considering the fact, the masculine exotic nature of troll males made them the first Fae accepted in human culture, it wouldn’t have surprised me to learn he’d spent a fair amount of his off-work hours in Sylvie’s tender care. Hey, so long as the boss wasn’t taking out his sex drive on us at work, I truly, deeply, could not care less about his personal life.

  “Sorry, Sylvie isn’t expected in today.” Another twenty found its way out of my wallet and into her blouse. “Looks like she has the day off. You could see her at home, if you know where she lives;”

  “Do you have the address?”

  “I can’t give her personal Information out,” her eyes widened and one long, pink fingernail went into her mouth. “She’d kill me, or worse, fire me.”

  I opened the file and turned to the list of known addresses. “How about you just cut down my search time and point out if the address is here.” She tapped the third line down and I flipped the file closed after a second look. “Geez, does everyone live better than I do?"

  Patty snorted and rolled her eyes. “Not me, all my money goes to making me look this good.” She flipped her hair back and winked at me as I waved goodbye. I envied her confidence, but there was no way I could spend so much time on my appearance every day. I could barely force myself to apply makeup most days, preferring to use the small glamor my Fae blood allowed me to tint my lashes and put some color in my cheeks.

  “Hey,” someone called out as I headed toward the back. “Where’d you get your contacts?” I shrugged at the girl in question and walked away to scattered giggles. The truth was, I didn’t wear contacts. But these were humans. I didn’t want to explain for the thousandth time my eyes were silver because I was Fae, or the way they'd glow violet if I called my magic.

  Lucky for me, my purple hair, silver eyes, and pointed ears marked me as my father’s daughter, even if he didn’t claim me. Even though they were points of pride for me, sometimes human curiosity made me wish I looked exactly like everyone else.

  I got another bone-crushing hug from Reggie and promised to visit him again soon, and he helped me into my sweater, saying, “Mom says I gotta be a gentleman to all the ladies ‘cause I work here.”

  “Your mom’s very smart. You’re doing an excellent job, Reggie. I’m glad I saw you today.” His grin lifted me, and filled me with hope for a better lead, even though he couldn’t really help me. “I think you might be good luck for me.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth my phone rang. I scrambled to find it deep in the bowels of my oversized hippie tote and answered as I strode to the car. “Hello, Morgan, are you there?” Grayson sounded concerned, but the breeze made listening difficult.

  I climbed in the car and shut the door and amazingly I could hear him again. “Uh,
yeah, sorry, I hit answer while I was still getting the phone out of my bag.” He didn’t reply immediately, and I glanced around. “Grayson…are you there?”

  “Look, I have to go to this party tonight. I don’t have anyone to take, and it might be good for you to be seen there, with me.” My pulse bumped, and words failed me for a moment. “Morgan?”

  “Well, what kind of party?” I’d never been on an official date. I didn’t run in the kind of circles that helped a girl find a good boyfriend, and my stigma in the community relegated me to mostly hookups with mundane humans at bars, ending when they became elf-struck and stalkerish, or when they found out I was a witch.

  He sighed, and I imagined him dragging his fingers through his chocolate hair, tousling his curls. My heart beat even faster at the thought, making me blush. Well, thank the gods of the pantheon he can’t see or smell me right now. You idiot, he just wants to keep an eye on you.

  I knew it wasn’t true, even as I thought it. I’d felt his desire, I knew if I kept finding myself in his company, I was going to lose the battle against temptation. He was hot, smart, and not human; exactly the man I’d been holding out for.

  “So, does this mean you finally believe I’m innocent?” I waited for an eternity and my self-esteem plummeted in the silence.

  Finally, he sighed and cleared his throat, a habit I’d thought was a way to command attention, but now realized it was just him thinking. God dammit if that wasn’t fucking endearing, too.

  “I know there is someone moving behind the scenes. A scent like yours but isn’t yours. It's been everywhere we’ve gone together.” I fluttered at the thought of him recognizing my scent as my legs turned to jelly. “You’ll probably find someone who can give you the information you’ve been looking for…” His voice trailed off