“Unless she is intentionally masking her readings, no.”
“Are they on the premises?”
The Librarian tugged on his mustache. “Negative.”
Lev cursed and puffed harder on his cigar. Around the tip, he said, “Then what is it, man?”
“A helicopter has flown over our church three times.”
“Do you recognize it? Could it belong to one of the business men?”
“No, sir. All the identifying marks have been removed, and it does not match any registered helicopter in the area.”
Jogging to my desk, I shoved papers to the side. “Let’s see it.”
Vic took a position behind my chair and leaned forward to look over my shoulder.
My monitor lifted out of the surface, and a grainy image populated the screen. A dark helicopter-shaped shadow hovered over the spires of the church.
“Where are we getting the view?”
“From the feed from the security cameras on the adjacent buildings.”
“You hacked them.”
“We hacked them,” Vic said.
“It seemed prudent.”
I squinted at the image, trying to see into the dark windows.
Vic pulled my keyboard drawer out. “Let me see if I can clean that up.”
Thirty seconds later, the view turned crystal clear. She pushed the drawer closed. “Anything popping out at you?”
“Nothing.”
Lev ambled over to have a look. The helicopter hovered above us without moving away.
The Librarian gestured toward the screen. “Should I do anything, sir?”
“Not yet. Thank you, Librarian.”
The Librarian half-bowed and then winked out.
“That’s not innocent,” Lev rumbled.
“Agreed, but they haven’t done anything yet.”
For twenty minutes, we watched them as they watched us. Then as easily as they’d come, they moved away.
Vic gasped when the Librarian materialized beside us, and I nearly leapt from my chair. We all froze, dreading his next words.
“I believe,” he intoned, “Woe has returned.”
After the collective sigh of relief, the Librarian dissolved. I guessed he hadn’t enjoyed the fireworks from last time, and he’d met his quota for the day.
Or maybe he needed to write to his girlfriend.
“Oh, thank goodness. I couldn’t take this anymore.” Vic threw her cards down and swiped her glass from the tabletop. She made a beeline for the doorway.
“We could have played Chess,” I called after her. “You picked this.” I discarded my hand on top of hers. The locking mechanism spun.
Arún sauntered in first. Woe peeked around the metal hatch before placing a foot inside. It was like she was dipping her toe in the pool, testing the waters. Woe eased into the room, but stayed close to the door, hanging back. She was probably nervous about the last time she was here. Vic met Woe where she was, smiling and chatting with her until Woe became more comfortable. Woe pulled on Vic’s new curls and Vic laughed at Woe’s comments.
Vic waved her hand at me.
“What?” I mouthed at her. She had caught me staring at the two of them. I glanced around, wondering if anybody else had noticed.
She jogged over, jerked her head toward Woe. “Say hello,” she mouthed back.
I turned so that I couldn’t see her and strolled over to Arún. When I got near, Arún drew himself to his full height. “Jason,” he said.
Woe turned away from a laughing Vic. “Jason,” she said.
I should start with an easy question. I thought a minute, then asked, “How was your trip?”
Woe blushed scarlet. I had never seen her turn that color.
I scowled. It looked like Arún had turned a little pink, too.
Arún cleared his throat. “Woe has decided to help us.” He threw the words into the middle of the conversation and brought it to an abrupt halt. Even Lev’s bleary eyes popped open. If we were going to discuss the elephant we were all avoiding, everybody would want to watch.
Woe pressed her lips together. “I’ve decided to help Arún help you, Jason.” She put her hands on her hips. “And you can stop paying for the apartment, by the way.”
A weight lifted from my shoulders. We were going to be alright. The Keepers would be back to normal in no time. “I’ve already turned in the thirty-day notice.” I grinned when surprise flickered in her eyes. Vic danced around in my peripheral vision, jerking her head at Woe again.
I tugged on my beard. All in. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved last time you were here. I struggled with Frank’s unexpected death. I—”
Woe clasped my free hand between hers. “I get it. It’s okay. I’m sorry, too.”
Vic cheered. And Lev. The Librarian even came back out to hear Arún’s report. Everybody took a seat around the room while Arún explained what he had discovered back home.
“So what do we do now?” Vic always asked the obvious questions.
Arún leaned against the circle stairway. “We find the peacock.”
“How are we going to do that?” Lev’s questioned.
“We call the number. We talk to Joe.” Arún glanced at Woe. She gave a tiny nod. “We tell him we’re ready to give up their breeder.”
42
Somber
Woe
“You can’t mean that,” Vic said to me.
I said, “It’s the only way to draw them out. It might be a stretch, but that shifter is their prized possession. We have to assume they’ll bring her along. If we can nab her, we might be able to get to the Boss.”
“It’s dangerous,” she said. Like I didn’t know that.
“Yeah, but what choice do we have?” I glanced at Jason. The outside corners of his eyes turned down to match the downturned corners of his mouth. “You can’t track her. Every time she eats, it changes her scent. You’re good, Jason, but you can’t keep up with that.”
“I know,” he said, so softly I had to tilt my head toward him.
“I don’t like it either,” Arún interjected. “Woe and I have been over and over this for the last two days. We don’t see any other way.”
When Jason figured it out, his eyebrows shot up his forehead. “That’s why you decided to help,” he said.
“Guilty,” I said. That and the guy who tried to kill me. And I wouldn’t abandon the Fae that I love. The first answer was easier, simpler.
“Wings,” said Vic. “You’re one helluva gal.” She punched my shoulder, admiration sparkling in her eyes. Or tears. But I liked to think of it as admiration. “Time for an all-nighter. I’ve got stuff to think up before we can ride into battle.”
I hugged her then, which surprised us both.
After Vic left, Lev cleared his throat behind me. “We will prevail against this evil,” he said, chewing on an as-yet-unlit cigar. He squeezed my shoulder. And then he left as abruptly as he always did. Someday, I wanted to hear that man’s story. I had a feeling there was more to it than any of us could guess.
That left the three of us. Me, Arún, and Jason.
“I told Arún that there’s a labyrinth of sewers beneath the city. He thought he might be able to use that information this time.” I snickered. “After all, it’s his fault we didn’t get to use it then.”
At Arún’s confusion, I shrugged. “These tunnels were how I was supposed to get away last time we baited a creature. Then you came up with an invisibility tornado and kidnapped me.”
He scowled.
“Apparently, I make good bait.” I winked at him, and Arún’s scowl darkened.
Arún’s mood didn’t bother Jason. He said, “Let’s have a look at those files, shall we?”
The Librarian whirred and sorted.
I grabbed my pencil. I’d slept since I’d studied at the tunnel maps. I would have to draw them again. Arún looked at me strangely.
“I remember best when I draw things,” I said.
We spent hours goin
g over the plan, picking the best place to lure the henchmen into the open. Jason appointed New Haven City Park as the place, and we all agreed. I didn’t say so, but it seemed fitting to me. That’s where it all began, and that’s where it should all end.
One way or another.
Hours later, Arún said, “I think we should call it a night.”
I lifted my head. My eyes wouldn’t quite focus and my brain didn’t know where I was. Seated on Lev’s chair, I must have dozed off and Arún’s words filtered in through my sleep. I had moved while Arún and Jason discussed the pros and cons of different variations of the same plan, pulled my overskirt up to cover my arms, and promptly fallen asleep. Now they were both staring at me.
I gave a sheepish grin. “It’s been a long day.”
Arún strode to my side and offered his hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. “We’re going home, Jason.” He tucked one arm around my back and the other beneath my knees.
“I can walk,” I said.
“Maybe I would rather carry you.”
I pulled at the air through my teeth. When Arún carried me, my body tingled with the same thrill that flying gave.
“Bye, Jason,” I called and waved at him. He was leaning back in his desk chair and wore a guarded look on his face. The priest could be surly if he wanted. Life turned beautiful for me, and I intended to enjoy it.
Jason, however, would never admit the depth of his loneliness. I wanted him to find peace.
Arún carried me through the church and out onto the street. Beneath the trees that lined the street, his wings unfurled and he leapt into the air. It always sounded like the beating of dove’s wings when he took off. We glided over the city beneath his silver stretch of Fae feathers and the cool air brushed the cobwebs from my mind.
I tapped his chest. “Could you take me by my place?”
The space between his eyebrows wrinkled and his mouth turned up. “Spending the night alone tonight?”
I punched his chest. “No, I don’t have much left there. I can fit it into one bag.” I pressed my ear to his chest, remembering the first time his heartbeat had conversed with my own. “And then I don’t ever have to go back.”
Arún lowered me to my tiny second-story porch. There wasn’t room for both of us and his wings, so I opened the sliding glass door and hurried in while he circled the building. I always kept that door unlocked. The supports creaked when he settled on the aged flooring.
A green sparkle darted across the room, a supernova in motion.
I laughed. “What are you doing here?”
The flying figure stopped at the little fairy house Arún had built for it.
“I didn’t expect to see you here again.”
I held up my hand, and it landed on my fingertips. It was so much like a hummingbird, but I still didn’t know how to pronounce its Fae-language name. I was delighted to have it around as long as it was content to stay.
Arún eased up behind me, his wings withdrawn into his back. He reached a hand over my shoulder and pressed his palm toward the creature.
“She was happy here,” he said.
“Even though I’ve been gone so much?”
“Even then.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t here when she decided to return to Ishka.”
He came closer. “Ishka needed her.”
“How do you know?” I leaned into him and whispered against his cheek. “And while we’re on it, how do you know she is a she?”
He smiled as though the answer was simple. “She says she is. I’m a mind reader, remember?” With his other hand, he tapped his temple. “I knew when I brought her to you. Her peaceful nature reminded me of your Hannah. I knew she would love you as much as I do.”
Hannah. I thought of the little girl no less often, but with gradually less pain. I missed her. “I never knew that.”
The creature flitted to Arún’s hand and they stared at one another until Arún’s eyes drifted to me, a look of surprise on his face. “She says she’s not needed anymore. She says you are happy now.”
I smiled at him and my little friend. “Thank you for choosing me for as long as I needed you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you better,” I said.
That was all there was to say.
Arún beamed at me and gazed again at the creature. He spoke while he focused on my little blue friend. “She says to tell you thank you and congratulations.” He glanced back at me. “And that she hopes joy lives here for a long time, and she is happy for the newness growing in you.”
I chuckled. “I do feel like a new creature.” I held up my hand and she rested a moment on my fingertip before darting away, out the sliding glass door, and up into the sky. And then she was gone.
“Did she go back?”
“She’s always been able to. Their small size allows them to move from realm to realm without assistance. It doesn’t take much for them to generate a small portal.”
“Then she really did choose me.”
He nodded and smoothed his hand over my cheek. “She loved you.”
“Until I didn’t need her to anymore,” I said.
“That is the way they are. They have an innate connection to grief and helping those who suffer from it, and their love comes in a bright flash, but it burns forever.” He took my hand.
It made sense, in a strange way. My grief no longer seemed large enough to swallow me. The hum-fairy knew that.
I grabbed a carpet bag and carefully placed the fairy home in the bottom, a precious reminder of what had been. It was the way of things – changing seasons, walking with others for a time, going old ways with new companions or going new ways altogether.
After that, I held only a few clothes, a few sentimental belongings. I left a note donating everything else to the church. Jason would find the people who needed all the things I could live without.
43
Accounting
Arún
I placed her carpet bag into the coat closet, happy to see her things in my house, even more pleased that I would see her in my bed. Every day. Multiple times a day. I drew a burst of magic and tried to decide which spell to wrap her in.
A dark gray helicopter, almost military in bearing, blew by. CEOs came and went every day, and it wasn’t that unusual for it to be that low. Though, most of the helicopters were more polished.
Woe shivered, and I wondered if she could hear what I’d been thinking. “If something… bad… happens to either one of us, what happens to the bond?”
The question chilled my blood, and I released the magic I had intended to ply her with. She had spoken softly enough, maybe she would believe I hadn’t heard it.
“Are you ready to go back to Jason?” I asked, desperate to not have this conversation.
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Hungry?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Besides, you don’t need to make anything. I bet Lev has something in the oven.”
The old whale probably did. He usually did.
“Arún,” she said, settling on the edge of the couch. “I know you heard my question. What’s wrong?”
It was going to get harder and harder to keep things from her. The bond wouldn’t allow it. I dropped beside her on the couch, the leather creaking under my weight.
“What don’t you want to tell me?”
Taking her hands in mine, I met her gaze straight on. “I don’t know what will happen to you if something happens to me.”
She waited for the rest of what I had to say. I couldn’t lie to her, but she didn’t need to know anything else. She didn’t need to be distracted during the mission.
I patted the back of her hands and stood up. “Ready to go?”
“No. I’m not.” She tilted her head. “Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not.” I was. She’d know it.
“That’s not true. Your tension is like a snag in my brain.” She frowned. “Why?”
I sighed and sat bac
k down.
“What will happen to you?” She leaned forward.
“In the Fae world, when a couple has bonded, if one dies under violent means, their mate or mates often lose their grounding in reality. Sometimes they retreat so far into themselves that they slip into a coma. Or they sit at the window, barely functioning, surviving but not living.”
She stared at her hands. “But that’s not the worst of it, is it?”
“No, the worst is when the mate relives the death over and over again. For as long as they are alive.”
“Could that happen to you?”
The truth became daggers to my heart. “Yes.”
She jumped to her feet. “We can’t do this. I can’t risk that for you.”
“Stop, Woe.” I captured her hand and drew her back down beside me. “If we don’t do this, I may still bear the future that you want to save me from.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the shifter gets you, what happens to me?”
“She just can’t get me.”
“But she might. Or the Boss might. There’s any number of scenarios where it might still happen. The only way to be sure it won’t happen is to end the shifter and hunt down the Boss.”
She had to understand. For now, Jason’s way was the only way.
She crossed to the window, watching the New Haven City world turn outside. A white helicopter flew by.
She pressed her nose to the glass. “Does that look familiar to you?”
I moved next to her as the helicopter came back for another pass. “Business men come and go from their office buildings. They aren’t that unusual, but that one has been by several times.”
It rose from the floors beneath us, and a curvy woman sat inside, strapped inside the cab with tethers. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a pair of oversized glasses rested on her nose. Her eyes were glued to my window. The exterior reflection assured that they couldn’t see us, but her gaze was intent on Woe, as though she could see her somehow.
I gathered Woe against me. “Do you know her?”
The woman’s eyes turned bright purple, fluorescing.
Woe for a Faerie Page 24