Woe for a Faerie

by Bokerah Brumley

  On my feet, I glanced around. I swayed, disoriented by the movement of my head. He tucked his arm around me, and I relaxed, grateful for the steadying hand.

  We stood in the center of a large, open-air square, measuring twelve feet by twelve feet, the second section in a row of four. Stone support columns and arches separated each row. The stairwell from upstairs emptied into the first square. It reminded me of London’s Camden catacombs.

  I squinted, almost able to hear the whispers from the ancient stones in the barely lit shadows. “Do you hear that?”

  Jason’s eyebrows lowered slowly, and he leaned away from me. “Hear what?”

  “Nothing.” Of course not. That skill went the way of my wings. “Just my imagination.”

  Each square had two doors, situated directly across from each other. Each end square had a third door. The first square was the stairwell, but I couldn’t tell what the third door was in the last square. Dark metal rivets lined the edge of each door, one every few inches around the full perimeter, except where the door was fastened to the wall with a large barrel hinge.

  Behind one of the closest doors, a brilliant flash caught my eye. “What’s that?”

  Jason smirked again. “Our chemist.” His hand slipped down to the small of my back, and he led me to the end of the impressive corridor. “A meeting for another time.”

  At the end of the hall, he put his hand on the cast-iron lever. When he pushed down, dust blew out from around the door and fell around us in a cloud.

  I coughed. “Guess you don’t get down here much.”

  “Once a week,” he said. “Catacombs are incredibly dusty.” The door swung open with a low creak. “I used to try to keep it clean, but it didn’t make a difference and took too much time.”

  When the door opened, I gasped. In contrast to the harsh stone room, lamps lit the Atheneum. A fire crackled in the fireplace. Books lined every spare shelf, and plush seating beckoned from every corner. A circular staircase led to a second-level catwalk that skirted the perimeter of the room.

  I placed my foot over the threshold and a double beep sounded. I glanced back at Jason. He only beamed at me like some benevolent father. A whir sounded from somewhere to my right, and I eased deeper into the room.

  Directly in front of me, light collected in a pillar in the center. The particles coalesced into a humanoid shape dressed in nineteenth-century style. It had been a long time since I’d seen anyone dressed in Victorian clothing.

  The man tugged on his oiled mustache as he considered me. “Good evening,” he announced with a bow.

  A laugh bubbled up from my insides, though I tried to tamp it down. “Why, hello, nice to meet you.”

  “We met in the closet near the confessional. I greeted you on the digital readouts, but Jason interrupted before we could get to know one another.” A fan of light sprayed in a wedge from the back wall. It moved up and down over me. He nodded with a self-satisfied “Hmph.”

  The stack of processors. That explained it. “What was that?” The smile still stretched across my face. The muscles in my cheeks already complained.

  The figure held out his hand. “May I help you find something worth reading?” A catalog appeared in his palm. He leafed through until he pointed to a place on the page and looked up at me. “Perhaps Wings Found by Leonardo Da Vinci?”

  My smile faded, and I spun on my heel to glare at Jason. “Is that a joke?”

  Jason’s shoulders fell, and he eased the door closed with a click. When he turned to face me, he had flushed a bright red. “Woe, the Librarian scanned you. He took note of your physiology and your scars. It wasn’t intentional.”

  A book snapped closed behind me. The light-made man strolled nearer, his hands clasped behind his back. I shifted slightly to see the stranger better. “Indeed not, Miss Woe. I assimilate Jason’s daily reports. And I met…” The Librarian’s holographic eyes darted toward Jason. His sentence died away.

  When I turned my head, I caught the tail end of Jason frantically sliding his finger across his neck.

  “Jason?”

  His shoulders fell even further. He nodded to the Librarian and the curator disappeared with a curt, “Have a good evening.”

  “What’s going on?” I crossed my arms.

  19

  Facades

  Woe

  In the library beneath the church, Jason asked me to sit down on the plush, red velvet settee while he went behind a small pocket door and traded his cassock for a heavily starched shirt. Then he poured himself a drink.

  His hands shook slightly. I guessed he hadn’t been quite prepared for me to know about what went on beneath the church.

  The settee boasted gilded studs that adorned the edges, like something out of a brothel. I ran my hands along the edge and wondered what stories this furniture could tell. Jason cleared his throat and interrupted my thoughts before I could brain-wander myself into a blush.

  The ice in his short glass made a tinkling sound as he crossed the room. “Woe, you aren’t the first fallen being we’ve had here. Demons choosing to do something good, angels intervening against their instructions…”

  He paused. “Things get very gray in my world. The Librarian met the last fallen angel. He had wounds like yours.”

  He sat across from me and tugged on his white starched shirt before he took a sip of the amber liquid. “I’m not really a priest, yes, but there’s a part of this church and my job description that is very secret. As time goes on, I’ll be able to introduce you to that side of everything. But first―” He leaned forward and anchored his elbows to the tops of his knees… like a normal guy.

  I found myself scooting closer, thinking of the cemetery gate. “What’s first, Jason?”

  I cringed at the desperate timbre in my voice. That hadn’t sounded seductive at all, just… awkward. Stupid how-to romance book. I leaned back and shoved a fingernail between my teeth.

  He took another sip. “Your boyfriend.”

  I cringed at his tone. “Yeah?”

  “Do you know why he’s in New Haven City?”

  “I guess he likes living here.”

  “He’s Fae.”

  “And?” Arún was a Fae that didn’t mind that I was a fallen angel. He didn’t care where I came from, and I didn’t care where he came from.

  “Fae-kind rarely leave the Fae Realm. In fact, in all my time here, I’ve never come across one in New Haven City.” He stared at me without blinking.

  “I guess he’s different.”

  At Jason’s look, I shrugged. I wasn’t going to tell him that I’d been hanging out with Arún or that I intended to go over to his house the minute he offered.

  I crossed my arms. “I may not know exactly what being Fae means or why it matters that there’s a Fae in New Haven City, Jason.” I jerked my head to the side. “But he has pointed ears, a ton of muscles, and he keeps me safe.” I pointed to his drink. “Can I have one of those?”

  “I’m not sure that would be a good idea.” He raised an eyebrow, and something tingled in my belly. It might be a good idea. Maybe I wanted that idea. Right now.

  “If you won’t, I will.” Jumping up from the cushioned seat, I stalked over to the drink tray. I grabbed a glass that matched Jason’s. The ice bucket spat fog when I popped the top to throw three square cubes into my snifter. I grabbed the nearest unmarked decanter and upended it. The yellow liquid tumbled over the ice until the cup was half filled.

  Jason asked, “Do you like scotch?”

  “Of course I do.” I stomped back to my seat with a look that dared him to say anything.

  His eyebrows had climbed nearly to his hairline. At least I’d finally done something he hadn’t expected. So many of the parts that made me Woe were older than Westminster, but Jason treated me like a child.

  Westminster…

  I sounded like a broken record. Even to me. I plopped down in the seat.

  Attitude reined in, I took a deep drink. But when I tried to swal
low, the liquid burned, and I discovered that I did not like scotch. What a mess. My throat revolted and the liquid came out… through my nose… onto his shoes. Again.

  “This has been an exciting night for my shoes,” he said.

  “Shut up and give me a napkin.” Everything under my eyeballs, from my nose to my chin was a wildfire. Nope, no, my eyes hurt, too. And now tears mixed with the snot. The linen handkerchief was dabbing at my face again. I swiped it from his hand and kept my face averted while I regained my composure.

  “So… this thing following you,” he began again.

  “Arún,” I corrected him.

  “Fine. Arún,” he said.

  Finally upright, I grimaced at Jason through puffy eyes. The twinkle in his eyes was infuriating. I might still suck at smiles, but I bet I nailed the death stare.

  I leaned back in my seat. I had confessed my attempt at hooking and the other death on my conscience, with Jason only asking for clarification here and there. After the story had been told, he leaned back in his chair and stared into his now-empty glass.

  “We need to find him.”

  I asked, “How?”

  He said, “I can track you with your belt.”

  “My belt?” His ability to locate me at odd times suddenly made sense. I’d have to find a way to leave that thing behind. “What will you do when you catch him?”

  My protector had to stay safe, too. I wanted to catch him, too, but for entirely different reasons than Jason had in mind.

  Jason said, “It would be nice to ask him questions, find out why he’s here.” He stroked his beard.

  “I agree, but how?” It would be nice to catch him. Maybe he’d use his magic on me again.

  Jason tilted his head and dipped it to the side. “Well.”

  “Well, what?”

  Jason stroked his beard. “We do a little research, bait him, and get him to come to us before he can kill anybody else.”

  I nodded―made sense, and I didn’t want another death on my tally. “What do we use as bait?”

  “I think the answer is pretty obvious.”

  I didn’t get it.

  “You.” He blew out the word like a breath of bad news.

  I wished I had something more to throw up on his shoes.

  Jason stretched old blueprints across the desk. “Librarian,” he said.

  A double beep sounded and light particles flaked from the air into a man-like shape that tugged on his mustache. “May I help you?”

  Every time the light-up man pulled on the shiny oiled hair it tickled my memories. I knew I’d met somebody just like him before, but I couldn’t place him. I couldn’t help but want to giggle. It was annoying.

  “Pull up everything on Woe’s case.” He went back to studying the blueprints.

  “Processing.” The Librarian stared into the distance, and then walked to one side of the room and pulled a drawer open. He grasped a handful of files inside the holographic drawers and tucked them into the crook of his arm. “Here they are.”

  “Give me hard copies and then put yourself to bed.” He glanced up at the pleasant-faced figure. “Thanks.”

  “Yes, sir. Have a good night, sir.” He turned to Woe. “Good night. It was lovely to meet you. I hope you feel better soon.”

  “Um, thank you?” I scowled at Jason who pointed at his shoes.

  The Librarian winked out.

  “Could you grab the paper copies from the printer?” He pointed to the corner nearest the circular staircase.

  The stack was about four inches thick and an ugly face, printed in color, stared up from the top page. I set it on the corner of the desk. Jason seated himself in the desk chair and riffled through the top pages of the printout. He handed the top two sheets to me. “We think this is the mastermind behind Hannah’s murder, but we think he might be working for someone else. Somehow, these pervs are collecting something for somebody they call, ‘The Boss.’ And somehow, it’s all connected to your Fae. He’s going to have answers.”

  I studied the sheet but didn’t recognize the man. His rap sheet filled the second page. When I got to the bottom of the page, Jason said, “There’s more, but that’s all his recent stuff.”

  Each line stabbed me in the stomach. He was violently, despicably brutal. Age didn’t matter. The youngest girl was three, the oldest eighty. But, lately, he’d been sticking to girls around Hannah’s age. He’d always managed to get off on a technicality, but it happened too often to be a coincidence. This couldn’t go on.

  “A couple of his guys were arrested for speeding. They had images from another atrocity of…” He cleared his throat. “A similar nature. Bunch of creeps.” He went back to studying the plans.

  I leaned over the desktop. Lines crisscrossed the page, labels marked New Haven City landmarks, but the lines didn’t match the roads I knew. “What is this?”

  “Tunnels under the city, sometimes sewage, sometimes old underground storage. It’s a labyrinth down there, but it’s the quickest way to get from one place to another or escape from the public eye.” He sat back. “And you have to learn it by heart.”

  I met his gaze and then swiped a nearby pencil. “I learn faster if I draw it. Where do we start?”

  “You remember the last time you saw him?”

  I pulled at the bright red miniskirt I wore. My bare legs were covered in goosebumps from the chilly air. I had heels on again. Despite my reservations, Jason had insisted.

  I stood in the splash of light from the street lamp, a tunnel map drawn onto the inside of my forearm. I’d left the belt in the library while Jason wasn’t looking.

  Jason concealed himself in the shadows, on the other end of the spy gear I wore in my ear. He said he had other people out there, but I still hadn’t met any of them. Jason said I wasn’t ready. I didn’t argue.

  At the intersection, a car waited. No turn signals or anything, just idling, waiting.

  Five minutes passed before the car turned toward my lamp-lit corner. The driver slowed. A hum filled the air as the tinted window rolled down. Inside, the beige leather seats looked as soft as butter. This car was expensive.

  A handsome man winked at me. “Hi, sweetie.”

  I bent over the door and leaned into the car, a smile plastered all over the bottom half of my face. The driver shifted in his seat and pulled on his pant legs. Smooth, be smooth. The words played over and over in my head. Stupid cotton-mouth. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need an escort for the night. I have to attend a party hosted by my boss.” He tapped his index finger on an illuminated button. The doors unlocked. “Could you handle that?”

  “Of course I can.” Where was he? I grabbed the door handle. Come on, big guy. I shivered and checked the roofs of the surrounding building. No eyeshine. The Fae hadn’t come out of hiding yet.

  “What’s wrong?” The car inched forward, and the man sounded nervous now. “You a cop?”

  “A cop?” I bent down. I could barely stand upright, and my miniskirt wouldn’t stay down. “Yeah, I’m a cop.” Did the cops even answer that question?

  His eyes widened until I could see the whites in the dull light.

  “Oh, no, I’m not. It’s okay.” He thought I was serious. “Do I look like a cop?”

  “No.” He shook his head side-to-side. “Too pretty.” His teeth flashed between two thin lips, his mouth stretched into something like a smile. The angles around his eyes were tight.

  “Thank you,” I purred and caressed the car door.

  His fingers tapped the back of the steering wheel. “Get in here, if you’re coming.” He slammed his fist on the armrest. “You know what, never mind.” The locking mechanism slammed down into the door. With a tire squeal, the car accelerated away.

  That was weird.

  Jason came out of the shadows in the alley across the street. “You okay?” His voice sounded in my ear.

  I tucked my fingertips into my palms, pointed my two thumbs at the moon and waved them at him
, forming the sign he’d shown me earlier. “All good, even kept my toes,” I whispered and brushed my tongue over the tooth mic as I tugged on the ever-upward-creeping dress. The girls didn’t usually show everything.

  “Go again.” Relief warmed his voice. “And, Woe,” he said, “Stop licking the mic.”

  I waved another double thumbs up, yanked the hem of my dress up until I could feel an intimate draft, and stuck my skinny leg out to wait for the next john.

  Learning to stand in heels with my back arched had been a ridiculous experience. I’d never seen a priest in a cassock try to stand like a curbside call girl. He couldn’t pull it off himself, but he tried to teach me. I think it was the beard. Maybe it was the cross.

  Hours later, we were no closer to enticing my winged suitor from the shadows, and I had chipped all the polish off my fingernails. After the first guy, no other potentials happened along to threaten my life. On the one hand, I was relieved. On the other, I didn’t want to waste the déjà vu date night.

  “All right. Let’s call it,” Jason sighed in my ear. “Let’s head home, kiddo.”

  The moon ducked behind a row of clouds and back out again. I mumbled something through a yawn. The balls of my feet hurt, my calves ached. Standing curbside meant hard work.

  Above me, a giant dove took flight.

  Wait. I know that sound.

  I spun.

  As I yelled the first half of Jason’s name, a column of air shimmered around me. A mighty rush of wind cut off my cries. The priest bolted out from his hiding place. I beat my fists against the curve of clear wall, yelled into the tooth mic until I lost my voice. No matter how loud I yelled or how much I waved, his mouth moved constantly but he never answered, and his gaze swept over me again and again.

  So much for the underground tunnels, the eye of an invisible tornado held me captive.