Murder Between the Worlds: A Between the Worlds Novel
Page 6
Depending what shift he was working Jason was usually an early riser who made the coffee for the whole house and sometimes full, complex, breakfasts if he had time before heading out to work at the Fire Department. Since he was the only one in the house who could cook well, the idea of a possible breakfast besides cereal was a strong motivator. She yawned as Jason continued to look worried. “Seriously Takada, chill. It’s no big deal. I’ll fix it.”
She stepped out into the hall with him, not bothering to dress beyond the t-shirt she slept in and jeans. If it was a quick enough fix she could go back to sleep as soon as it was done. Or maybe after it was fixed and she’d eat. “I’ll head down to the basement of doom as long as you promise to make coffee and a decent breakfast for me.”
Jason smiled widely, “Hey, for the joys of electric power and your fabulous magical effort you get coffee and an omelet.”
“Bless you, Jason, bless you.” They both laughed as she jogged down the stairs and through the kitchen to the basement door. She flipped the switch at the top of the stairs without expecting anything and then moved easily into the darkness.
The basement was a dreary musty place, full of old boxes, unwanted junk and an abundance of spiders. No one ever went down there without a reason, but unfortunately it was also the electrical center of the house. At the bottom of the old wooden staircase was a small utility room which housed the furnace, hot water heater, and the house’s main fuse panel.
Allie entered the little room and opened the fuse panel door. The slight tingle of magic that should have tickled her fingers was unmistakably absent and she sighed. The spells she had set over the system to insulate the electrical wiring from the magical atmosphere had been broken, possibly by something as simple as a mouse or insect crossing their boundary. She–or Bleidd–could create more powerful permanent spells to protect the wiring but that sort of major enchantment was at the very limits of her abilities and would exhaust her for weeks. It never seemed worth it when it only took an hour at most to set up the lesser spells. And Bleidd had never been willing to risk the effort either, although his reasons were his own.
Chanting softly she quickly framed a basic spell and flipped the fuses back on. Instantly the hum of the furnace kicked in and light flooded the doorway behind her from the bare bulb that hung out in the main basement. She heard Jason’s appreciative voice in the kitchen and didn’t doubt that the smell of coffee would soon be wafting down the stairs. That spell would act as a Band-Aid for the moment as she got to work resetting the stronger enchantments that normally kept things running.
She had reframed the larger spell and was chanting and tracing the physical symbols of the spell over the panel when she heard Jason calling down the stairs again. She ignored him, unable to stop without losing the effort and energy she’d already put in. Moments later she was aware of the sound of the stairs creaking, and she felt the hair raising up on the back of her neck; the steps were too light to be Jason and she was almost certain it was more than one person. Still, if she stopped now she’d lose all her work so far and have to start over. She pushed the thoughts away and focused on finishing the spell work. As soon as the last syllable left her lips and she felt the spell settle fully into place she pulled her attention back outwards. The light from the door was lessened and she knew before she turned that it was being blocked by someone, or more than one someone, standing there. She took a deep breath and then turned to face her audience.
Two of the Elven Guard who had been at her store earlier in the week stood there looking at her. One was fair haired, the other dark. She wondered how they could have found her here and then realized that of course they knew where she lived because they knew where Bleidd and Syndra lived and she had told them herself who her roommates were. The two Guards looked incongruous in the grimy basement, like exotic art in a cheap motel. Allie was suddenly, acutely aware that she was standing there in dirty jeans, in a t-shirt she had been sleeping in every night for the last week, without a bra, barefoot, and with unbrushed hair. Both elves watched her calmly as she wished she could disappear through the cracked concrete floor.
After an uncomfortable silence the fair haired elf, Jessilaen, spoke, “Good morning, Aliaine.”
She swallowed hard, “Allie. Everyone calls me Allie.’ And then, belatedly she added, “And good morning to you Jessilaen and, uh,” Oh dear Gods what was his name? “Brynneth.”
The Guard commander smiled warmly, “You may call me Jess if you prefer.”
She felt an almost hysterical urge to tell him that among humans Jess was usually a female name but she didn’t quite dare. Elves were notoriously particular about their names, rarely offering nicknames. She knew that offering one to her, although probably a response to her insistence on being called Allie, was a rare gift. From the look on the other elf’s face he had not expected it either. She nodded, unsure of the proper way to respond. Jess stepped into the tiny room, leaning forward to examine her spell, and she felt suddenly off balance by his close proximity and her own state of undress. She crossed her arms across her chest as subtly as she could, feeling mortified all over again.
“This is good work,” he said approvingly. The other elf stepped into the room as well leaving no space for anything else and also leaned over to study her work.
“Clever to use minimal energy to achieve the desired result,” Brynneth said.
“You do it differently?” she asked, genuinely curious despite her discomfort.
“We use layers of major spells,” he replied.
She found herself nodding. “Yes, that would be a better system, more redundant.”
“Indeed, but harder to set up and requiring more effort to maintain. There is a certain elegance in such a simple solution,” Brynneth said, reaching out to trace his fingers an inch above the surface of her magic, feeling the strength and flow of it without breaking the pattern.
Jessilaen echoed his companion’s sentiment, “Simple and elegant. This was your idea?”
She shifted slightly feeling the wall against her back. “Yes, actually. I’m not very powerful so I try to make the most of what I can do.”
“Interesting,” Jess said, both elves looking at her thoughtfully, “Many would simply use as much force as they could master, rather than trying to finesse the desired result.”
“Mmmmm,” she tried to sound non-committal while simultaneously wondering why they were being so complimentary. Elves were strictly honest but perfectly capable of misleading you without ever lying. She found herself wondering what they wanted from her that they were trying so hard to be nice. She started edging towards the door. “Well, I’m finished down here and I think I smell coffee up there. Would you like some?”
Both elves accepted the offer and followed her up the stairs. She wasn’t usually a vain person but she couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked; as soon as they were out of the basement she turned to Jason who was standing by the stove and looking a bit shell shocked. He was fine with Bleidd but easily intimidated by strange elves, who could be overwhelming without trying. She knew her next words were going to freak him out so she spoke quickly.
“Jason, I’m going to go get changed. This is Jessilaen and Brynneth. They’d like some coffee. Could you show them where the mugs are?”
Jason gave her a wide eyed look of sheer panic as she fled the room but she’d apologize later. She flew up the stairs and into her bedroom. The t-shirt and jeans were tossed into the laundry bin and clean clothes were pulled out of the dresser in record time. Fresh jeans, a bra, and a plain grey t-shirt made her feel more like herself, and after she dragged a brush through her hair she felt ready to face whatever questions the Guard had come here to ask. She walked quickly back down to the kitchen, not quite running, and found both the Guard standing next to the counter drinking coffee while Jason babbled, something he only did when he was extremely nervous.
“And then, well, it was hard to know what to do, but Allie told us to stay down–oh! Hi
Allie!” Jason crossed the room in a few long steps and thrust a coffee cup and plate into her hands, “Here’s yours, your food I mean, I have to go, sorry. I mean, sorry that I have to go not–you know. Anyway.”
He gave her one last miserable look and disappeared. Allie bit her lip, wondering how long it would take him to get on his cell phone and start calling the others. Resigning herself she turned back to the elves in the kitchen who were still standing and drinking their coffee as if this was all perfectly normal. Then again if this was how most humans acted around them, maybe, from their point of view, it was. She went over and set her plate and mug down on the table before sitting down in the comfortable old wooden chair closest to the hallway.
“Would you like to sit down?”
The guards looked at each other for an instant and then moved to sit at the table. This is too bizarre Allie thought taking a sip of her coffee before starting to pick at her breakfast It’s like a Norman Rockwell painting gone horribly wrong.
Jess set his cup down, but he didn’t start asking her about the murders as she’d expected. Instead he said something that made her feel as unbalanced as if she were back in the basement “You look very pretty with your hair down loose like that.”
Normal Elven manners dictated returning a personal compliment for a compliment, but she had no idea what to say to that. She had the sneaking suspicion that he was coming on to her but the context of getting hit on by someone in an official position was weird and she was a bit afraid of misinterpreting his intent and embarrassing herself. Elves were very straightforward when they were interested in someone and this seemed oddly subtle. Maybe he was hitting on her, or maybe he was trying to imitate human friendliness, something elves often found annoyingly hard to read. Elves were not generally subtle; their likes and dislikes were usually clearly expressed, if they were expressed at all. For an instant she was tempted to try to use her empathy to read him, but she quickly rejected the idea. After a pause that was too long she managed, “Thank you, um, your hair is very nice too.”
It was an uninspired response at best. The dark haired elf smirked into his cup but Jessilaen ignored her blunder, continuing with another unexpected question, “Is he your lover?”
She blinked, unsure at first who he meant, “Who? Jason?”
Jess nodded, looking pointedly down at her food, and she belatedly remembered that among elves there were strict customs about preparing and serving food between people. Unless being served to guests or by someone in a servile or lower ranking position it indicated an intimate relationship, either family or sexual. Since her Japanese-American roommate didn’t look likely to be related to her by blood, Jess was assuming a sexual relationship. She was remembering now some of the reasons she hated the etiquette so much. It is way too early in the morning for this crap she thought before replying “No he isn’t, just a good friend.” Seeing the skepticism on his face she blurted out, “He’s gay.”
Both elves looked puzzled, so she added, “He prefers men.”
They still looked unsure and Allie wanted to kick herself. Elves might have strict social etiquette about who could fix whose food but they were extremely sexually open, to the point that many humans thought them perverse. Allie tended to forget that aspect because it was not something she had much direct experience with or concern over. Struggling to be more precise, she said, “He only prefers to sleep with men.”
They glanced at each other exchanging what she was almost positive was a “humans are so strange” look, but Jess nodded and seemed satisfied with her answer. “Have you had any luck in remembering where you might have seen a ritual that includes elements similar to the crimes we are investigating?”
Finally back on topic! She thought feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief that they were finally asking her the questions she had expected. Disappointment that she may have misread his interest in her which made her feel foolish on top of everything else. He was certainly attractive and she was drawn to him, but not only was getting involved with someone in his position a bad idea but she doubted his interest in her went beyond superficial physical attraction. The last thing she needed was to complicate her life with a one night stand, especially with one of the Elven Guard. Best to keep it strictly business. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, no. I’m sure I have seen it somewhere, but I just can’t think where.”
Several minutes passed as she ate and they drank their coffee, before she risked asking a question she needed the answer to, “Is there a pattern to the, um, the cutting?”
Brynneth, who had spent the last several days studying the police case files, nodded, “It’s done very methodically. Regular parallel lines, shallow, across the torso, arms, and legs.”
Allie flinched thinking of it while simultaneously trying not to think too hard about it but kept talking, “No patterns though? No designs?”
“No, “he said shaking his head, “Simple straight lines.”
“All while the girl is still alive?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed hard, starting to wish she hadn’t eaten. “Is the blood loss what kills them?”
“No,” Brynneth said, gently, “their throats are slit.”
Allie nodded, thinking. “Is there a pattern to the timing of it?”
Both elves looked at her uncertainly. She tried to clarify. “Is it always on a full or dark moon? Something like that?”
The two looked at each other. Finally Brynneth shook his head slightly and Jessilaen turned back to her, saying, “Not that we are aware of. Not all the bodies were found immediately.”
“Is there a way to see if there is a pattern? Based on when they are found and how long they seem to have been, you know, dead?” she pressed, suddenly feeling this was important. If they could find a pattern to the timing that might be the key.
Brynneth nodded “I will see to it myself.”
She felt like they were starting to get somewhere at last but before she could think of the next logical step a loud bang reverberated through the house as the front door was thrown open. Allie jumped to her feet, knowing who it most likely was, even as the two Guards stood and started to draw their swords.
“No wait!” she said, getting them to pause just before Bleidd stormed in with Syndra right behind him. Bleidd looked ready to start throwing punches and she felt rising panic knowing how that would end. “Bleidd, wait…”
“It’s not enough that I have to deal with the indignity…” he began, his voice rising on each word. At that point everyone began talking at once.
“What the fuck is going on?” Syndra shouted over Bleidd’s complaint, cutting him off.
“This is no business of yours, Outcast.” Jessilaen said forcefully, looking as if he would be perfectly happy if it came to blows.
“Officer Lyons…” Brynneth began.
“STOP!” Allie yelled louder than all of them. The silence was deafening. She felt her hands shaking but she kept talking as they all turned and stared at her. She started with her two roommates, “You guys just chill for a second. They’re asking me questions about ritual aspects to the murders. Nothing to do with you guys.”
Bleidd’s face closed down completely and Syn looked skeptical but she pressed on, turning to the two Guard who were clearly still agitated, “I don’t think I can tell you anything else right now. If I think of anything though, I’ll call, I promise.”
It was a reckless thing, to promise anyone of Fairy anything and she winced internally as soon as the words slipped out, but there was no taking them back. Brynneth nodded tightly his eyes still on Bleidd. “Then we should go.”
“I’ll walk you out,” she offered, ignoring Bleidd’s sharp intake of breath. She gave Syn a pointed look as she started towards the front door and mouthed the words “house meeting” over her shoulder. As they moved out into the hallway she heard her roommates’ voices rising in the kitchen and hoped Syndra could keep Bleidd from doing anything stupid like chasing after them
.
As soon as they were out the door she closed it behind them and took a deep breath. “I am sorry about that,” she said sincerely, switching to Elvish
“Do not apologize, the fault was not yours,” Jess said, with Brynneth agreeing. Jess nodded almost imperceptibly towards the car and the other elf bowed slightly to Allie by way of a farewell and set off across the yard. She had expected Jess to follow immediately but instead he reached out and stroked her hair. She could feel her eyes widening. “You look more beautiful without the other garment on, it’s too restrictive.”
She felt herself blushing, realizing he meant the bra “It is a part of human dress, human female dress.”
“Elves do not wear such things. I like you better without it.” He said softly, and before she could think of how to respond to that he leaned in and kissed her. Not a chaste first kiss, but a passionate kiss that left her gasping when he finally pulled away. So her earlier guess was correct; this was the direct approach she had expected. She just wasn’t sure how to react to it. He spoke in that same soft voice, “I would very much like to court you.”
Which means what? Allie thought, but hesitated to be honest about her ignorance. She had anticipated a direct proposition, something along the lines of being asked when and where they could meet for a tryst. Elves celebrated the sensual, including sex, as something to be enjoyed often and thoroughly. Allie had been trying to decide the best way to nicely turn him down without making herself sound prudish, since random sex was not something that interested her, but she had no idea what courting, in an Elven context, meant. Instead she hedged. “And if I agree?”
“We will see if we suit each other,” he replied simply. Like dating? She wondered. She hadn’t thought elves did that sort of thing, but it was obvious she was ignorant of some aspects of the culture.
“You barely know me,” she whispered unable to deny that she felt drawn to him, had felt drawn to him since she had met him. And she could feel his emotions pressing through her shields, a heady mix of lust and something sweeter.