by Erin Embly
“I can’t afford to be tired today. There’s been another incident.” He turned to my closed bedroom door. “She’s in here?”
I reached out and grabbed his hand before it could get to the doorknob. “I said she’s busy.” I pointed to the orange glob of Miriam on my forehead. “Can it wait for just a little?”
“Can you let go of my hand?” Adrian said, and I looked down to see my fingers were still curled around his. “No, it can’t wait,” he said, his voice getting snappier. “Did you hear me? There’s been another incident. That means people are dead. And more will die the longer we draw this out.”
I took my hand off his and pressed my fingernails into my palm, needing the pain to knock some sense into me. What was that I’d been thinking just yesterday? About how I knew the signs? And here I was, letting my lusty lizard brain get in the way of a murder investigation just because I’d expected a jealous reaction from a man and hadn’t gotten it.
I needed more coffee. And a very cold shower.
I sighed and lifted my fist to knock on my door, but Miriam opened it before I could do so. She took her glasses off to rub her eyes before she said, “Alright, I heard you. Let’s go.”
Adrian stepped out of the way to let her through the door, and I followed as they made their way through my living room. “Hey.” I pointed to the blob on my face. “What about this?”
“We’ll have to finish later,” Miriam said. She reached out and reabsorbed the orange squishy into the not-skin of her hand, which left me feeling strangely empty. “I did find something interesting, but I need more time. I’ll call you.”
“Hey, wait,” I called out as they walked towards the door, realizing I really wanted to go with them. Now that I suspected their case was also my case, the urge to insert myself everywhere relevant was almost too strong to suppress.
Adrian turned around to look at me, and I saw now that the harsh set of his jaw and the pain in his eyes were much bigger than whatever I’d expected him to feel at seeing Dirk and I playing house. Whatever had happened this morning, it must have been worse than what had happened already. Worse than a deadly shifter going on a murder rampage inside a train and then slitting her own throat on the tracks. Worse than the other bodies he’d found before that.
“Never mind,” I said softly. “Good luck. Call if you need help.” I fingered my phone in the pocket of my robe, already itching to plug it in so I could text Miriam for the address and follow them discreetly.
“Thanks,” Adrian said. Then, with one last glance at Dirk, he and Miriam headed out the door.
As soon as it shut, I dashed to my room to throw on real clothes and wipe the rogue eyeliner from the night before off my face.
“Hey,” Dirk barked at me when I emerged. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I stopped in my tracks, one shoe half dangling from my foot, and tilted my head at him. “It’s not obvious? I want to see this crime scene. I think our cases are connected, remember?”
“Oh, I remember. But you don’t get to make decisions like that without consulting me first.”
If we were really dating, I would have punched him right about now. But unfortunately, as my handler and the one reporting on me back to the Guardians, Dirk was right. I needed his approval before I went meddling in any police business.
“Miriam’s there,” he went on. “She’ll tell us anything we want to know, and we need to work on a plan for your job with Soma tonight.”
“Right, but I need Miriam’s help for that.” I pointed to my head. “Remembering whatever I’ve got locked in here about Soma is my best chance of going in prepared tonight.”
Dirk frowned as Noah came up behind him and tugged on his apron for attention.
“Plus,” I added, trying to bombard him while he was distracted, “if this really is a huge case, it might be best for both Miriam and I to check out the scene. Two heads, better than one, you know . . .”
“Can you teach me to make more cinnamon rolls, Uncle Dirk?” Noah asked, tugging on Dirk’s apron again. “I want to bring some to school on Monday for Carina.”
I bit my lip, not sure about the whole “Uncle” thing but still wanting to hug Noah for inadvertently helping my cause. A chance to teach my adoring kid a lesson and help him woo a girl? That would be hard for this guy to pass up.
Dirk huffed a breath out at Noah and said, “Sure. Go wash your hands.”
I smiled as Noah ran into the kitchen, stuffing my foot all the way into my shoe and picking up my bag. “Thanks!” I said. “And don’t worry; he’ll be ready for a nap soon after all that sugar.”
I was out the door before Dirk could protest, only a little bit jealous that there was no afternoon nap in the cards for me today.
That was okay. The invigorating feeling of having a killer to chase was just as good.
8
Red brick walls loomed over me as I stood outside the address Miriam had given me, unsure whether I should go in. I’d hoped for a window or something, at least, to do some sneaking, but this was apparently a basement bar, and the only entrance was a door that opened to a narrow, dark stairwell down.
I paced up and down the sidewalk a couple times, thankful no one outside recognized me, then ducked into an alley and decided to wait until they left so I could break in and take a look at the crime scene on my own.
I eyed a pile of broken-down cardboard boxes, the fleeting desire to sneak in a nap tugging at my senses. I leaned back against the brick wall instead. If I let myself lie down, I didn’t know when I’d manage to reenter the world of the living.
Something blinked at me. I only noticed because I was trying so hard to keep my own eyes open. I squinted, focusing in on the two glittering gold orbs in the brick wall across from me. They blinked again as I tilted my head, then shut completely and vanished in a thin puff of sparkling dust.
A fae glamour.
If I hadn’t spent so much time around Etty and Becca, I might not have recognized it at all. But why was a hidden fae watching me? Was it even watching me specifically, or was I just intruding on its space in this alley?
My phone rang, and I filed away the strange encounter as something to worry about later.
“Miss Pierce.” Miriam’s voice came through in a tone that was overly formal, even for her. “We could use your help. Come to the address I sent you.”
“Okay . . .” I said to myself; she had already hung up the phone. It was exactly what I needed, but if Miriam had convinced the others to let her call me, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing. It meant they might think there was a connection to me—or to Noah.
I made a quick lap around the block and then walked in, only to be greeted by Adrian at the base of the stairs saying, “You got here fast.” His face was paler than usual, glistening with a bit of sweat that seemed out of place for the way he was dressed.
The air smelled only faintly of death, which meant they’d either carted out the body or the incident was recent. Someone walked past us up the stairs with a camera around her neck and gloves on her hands, and a bustle of noises indicated there were more people taking photos and bagging evidence further in.
“I was already on my way to see Ray,” I lied, peering around Adrian to try to get a glimpse of what had happened. But I couldn’t see anything from here, just the host table and a decorative wall.
“Hey.” He put his hand on my arm to keep me from walking around him. “Don’t go through just yet.”
“Why not?” I asked, resisting the urge to look at his hand. Even though he was touching me through a few layers of sleeves, it still set my nerves on edge.
“It’s . . . bad,” he said. “Worse than anything I’ve ever seen.”
I raised my eyebrows, curiosity officially piqued. Adrian wasn’t the toughest of the tough, but he’d seen plenty of death in his line of work, and I would have guessed he’d passed the point of losing his lunch at crime scenes. Apparently not. I looked to his left, where his arm was propped
against the wall holding him up, and saw the entrance to the restroom he’d probably just come out of. “Sorry,” I said, not entirely sure what I was apologizing for. “Wanna tell me why I’m here?”
“We think the killer was fae. Whole place is covered in dust. That’s why it doesn’t smell as bad as it should.”
My heart nearly stopped beating. He’d said “fae” as if that was a clear connection to me. But the only fae still in my life was Noah. And aside from that minor issue of emotional autonomy, it hadn’t occurred to me to worry about his fae abilities in the same way I worried about the soul-sucking ifrit part of him. I had never met any fae who were murderous and out of control, though, so I supposed I had no idea what they were truly capable of.
Perhaps I was about to find out.
I pushed past Adrian into the bar, where Miriam was standing at the center of a glittering massacre.
No, not a massacre, I thought as I took a closer look at the bodies slumped over tables and splayed on the ground. A mass suicide.
I could hardly see the floor through all the blood. Broken glasses littered the space, jagged shards gripped in the rigid fingers of so many of the dead patrons, uneven gashes over their throats where the glass had cut.
Other patrons lay still with long, metal drink stirrers shoved up their noses or in their ears. A bartender had fallen over the bar with a blowtorch by his hand, his whole face a melty, charred mess. I didn’t want to think about what the kitchen looked like, if there was one.
There was no one killer, no one weapon—every person in this full bar on a busy Friday night had stopped what they were doing at the same time and offed themselves with whatever was most convenient.
And Adrian hadn’t been exaggerating. The whole place was covered in fae dust. The blood on the floor should have been crusted over by this point, but instead it looked fresh and luminescent. Sparkles shone throughout the space in every direction, settling in the hair of the deceased and floating in the air around them. It was more dust than I’d seen Etty or Becca use in the entire time I’d known them, and it was far more than Etty must have used to get herself permanently banned from our realm.
“How many fae were in here?” I said softly, not really expecting anyone to answer.
“Just the one,” Miriam said, pointing behind me.
I turned around, and Adrian motioned me over to the restroom. A gentle push was all it took to swing open the door, which was missing its handle. The air inside was so filled with dust I could barely see through the glitter.
Waving my hands in front of my face to try to clear it, I stepped forward and found a body on the ground that didn’t look human. Aside from the pointed ears and the long, sharp nails and teeth, the man’s flesh was shriveled to the bone. He looked dessicated, like a skeleton covered with just a thin layer of skin. Which made it easier to spot the unnatural shape jutting out from his throat.
“It’s the door handle,” Adrian said from behind me, and I was grateful I wouldn’t have to pry the man’s jaws open to figure that out for myself.
“Iron?” I guessed.
“If it’s the same as all the other handles in the place, yes.”
I backed out of the restroom, against all odds preferring to be with the blood and gore over what I’d just seen.
“All this dust . . .” I said, “from just the one?”
“Yes,” Miriam said. “There are no signs that anyone made it out alive.”
“Fuck.” I swallowed to try to keep the cinnamon rolls in my gut from doing anything they’d regret. It wasn’t the blood that got me, not even the sheer number of bodies—which was higher than I’d ever seen in one room—no, it was the horror of the idea that they’d all done it to themselves.
I’d always known, going into the line of work that I had, that I’d probably be killed for it one day. I’d never been afraid of dying, but I’d always assumed I’d at least go down fighting. None of these people had fought, not even for a moment. If they had, they wouldn’t all be dead in their seats. The only people on the ground between tables were waitstaff, and not a one had attempted to make it to an exit. The only person who hadn’t killed himself instantly was the fae in the restroom.
The one who had caused all this.
I thought of what had happened on the train yesterday, the way the woman had completely lost control of herself. I’d thought that was bad, but it turned out the damage an out-of-control shifter could do didn’t hold a candle to an out-of-control fae.
No wonder the fae courts were so strict with their laws, so controlling of their people. For the first time since Etty had been taken away from me, I could kind of understand the reasoning behind it.
“Any thoughts?” Miriam asked me, and I almost laughed. Of course I fucking had thoughts.
“Can you be more specific?” I shot back.
“We don’t exactly have any fae experts on our roster to consult,” she said.
Is that why they called me in? I breathed a relieved sigh through my nose. It didn’t have to do with Noah, not specifically. I was just the most convenient person to call who had some experience dealing with the fae. “And I’m really the best you could dig up?”
“This is unprecedented.” Miriam gestured around the place. “I’m sure the fae courts will give us a statement when they find out about it, and I’m sure it will be the most roundabout nonsense they can manage. None of their people will talk; all our laws that govern them are moot because they only hold sway in our realm. Anyone who gets out of line is pulled back to theirs, and quick. So yes, the best we can do is a mortal with personal ties to the fae, and you’re the only one whose number I have in my phone.”
I bit my tongue, slowly nodding. “Well,” I said after a moment, “First things first, I spotted a fae hiding out in the alley on my way in. Gold eyes and dust. Might not be related, but you should check it out.”
Adrian jotted down a note before eagerly saying, “What else?”
“I can tell you that the use of dust is heavily regulated, and there’s no way this much would have been approved for anything. So either he knew he had to die going into it, or he completely lost his shit and had no idea what he was doing.” I took another look around. “If this is related to what I witnessed on the train yesterday, I’d assume it’s the latter. Have you IDed him yet?”
Adrian held up a plastic bag with a wallet inside. “The picture on his license doesn’t match what he looks like now, so it could be a plant, but that’s unlikely.”
“And?” I asked.
“Finn Everette, lived in Silver Spring, worked for an environmental non-profit.”
“This bar doesn’t look like it would be a hotbed of people who hate the environment, but you never know.” A part of me wished there would be a motive this simple, even though I knew there wouldn’t be.
“And how does . . . how does dust work?” Adrian asked. “If this wasn’t premeditated, is it feasible he would have had so much dust just lying around wherever they keep it?”
“Probably,” I said. “Every fae produces it. They can’t regulate who has it, only how much they use. It’s rare that they ever store it outside of themselves.” I thought of the small bag Dirk had and the significance of Etty giving it to him. “This is just a hunch, but I doubt the shriveled state of him has much to do with the iron he swallowed. If we think of dust as something like blood, this looks like he bled himself dry.”
I looked around the room again while I let the information sink in, and tendrils of fear began to creep up my extremities. If whatever had caused this man to go wild decided to come after me, what would I be capable of? How many people would I kill before someone managed to take me down? For the first time ever, I realized my training could be a liability, and I allowed myself to be glad that at least my magic wasn’t working. However deadly I might be, the bird inside me was far deadlier, and I would have more to be afraid of if I had given in to Ray and accepted the power of his god.
Even so, I wouldn�
�t be able to walk away and still sleep at night—not now that I’d seen this. If it was related to what I’d seen in the club last night, then this wouldn’t be the end of it. “How many more?” the stranger had asked Gary after they’d poured blood into the clay statue’s bowl. If there was only one more, it would still be too much.
“Why were you two at the club last night?” I asked, needing to confirm the connection.
Miriam glanced at Adrian, letting him take the lead.
“We spotted a vampire at the crime scene yesterday, in the crowd of onlookers,” Adrian said. “He was also in the photos of the crowd at another related scene from earlier this week. And a little digging turned up Bite as his workplace.”
I pursed my lips, holding in a snide remark about how I’d bet vampires wished the invisible-in-photos thing were true. Instead, I said, “His name Gary?”
“No. Reginald. The one who pulled you away last night after our chat.”
So that was Gary’s real name. “Yeah, that’s the one I saw feeding blood to the honey goblin. You make any headway with your research on what it could be?”
“Not yet,” Adrian said with a frown. “I poked around a bit before turning in last night, but there’s nothing obvious in my books. At first I thought maybe it had something to do with creating mead; there’s a story in Norse mythology about a special mead made by draining the blood of a man with divine knowledge and mixing it with honey. The resulting drink caused madness—and great poetry, but mostly madness. But that wouldn’t explain everything, and it’s a stretch.”
“That might fit here,” I said, gesturing at the ruined bar around me. “But no one’s handing out drinks on the Metro, and that’s where both other incidents happened, right?”
“Right,” he said.
“Keep looking.” After taking in a breath, I said, “I have a way to get in close with the vampires, try to see what they’re up to.” I glanced at Miriam, who nodded at me from behind Adrian, giving me silent permission to go down this road with him.
“You mean you’re going to keep dancing there?” he said. “That sounds dangerous.”