Poison Fruit

by Jacqueline Carey

  A wave of fury washed over me, lifting my hair, making it crackle with static electricity. “What the hell do you want?”

  “From you, cousin?” Dufreyne asked, sliding his other hand from his coat pocket. “Nothing you’re willing to give. Not yet, anyway. But here’s what I think of your little town’s magic.” Stripping off his glove, he transferred the silver cross into his bare left hand and closed his fingers over it, closing his eyes with a slight wince. That sense of wrongness intensified as he concentrated hard. An acrid scent of hot metal arose, and molten silver dripped from his clenched fist, hissing as it puddled and cooled on the wet concrete.

  I swallowed against the tightness in my throat, staring at him with hatred, filled with helpless rage.

  “Ah, that’s better.” Dufreyne sighed with pleasure and opened his eyes, opened his hand to show me his unmarked palm. “See? All gone.”

  “Fuck you!” I said with impotent fury, tears stinging. “Fuck you and everything you stand for!”

  “Do you know what’s funny?” Daniel Dufreyne leaned toward me, his reek surrounding me. “What I just did? That’s nothing to the power you stand to inherit.” He snapped his fingers. “Nothing. You could reign over what’s left of this mortal plane. All these petty pagan gods in their twilight years would bow to your will. And all you have to do is ask for it.”

  My right hand came up hard and fast, and I planted dauda-dagr’s tip in the hollow of his throat. If we hadn’t been in public . . . I don’t know what I would have done. I honestly don’t. Fear flickered in Dufreyne’s eyes, a wisp of frost rising from his skin where the dagger’s point dented it.

  “Get out,” I whispered. “Tell your master Hades that Hel’s territory is not for sale, not at any price. And if he tries to take it, Hel intends to defend it with every weapon she has.”

  Backing away, Dufreyne raised his hands. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” he said smoothly. “And I told you, Hades has no interest in Pemkowet. By the time this is over, you’ll wish he did. At least Hades is reasonable.”

  “Well, who does, then?” I shouted at him. “Goddammit! Who’s behind Elysian Fields?”

  Reaching behind him, Dufreyne opened the door of his Jaguar and eased himself into the driver’s seat. “I’ll be seeing you, cousin,” he said before closing the door between us.

  Seething with helpless anger, I watched him drive away.

  Then I went inside and called Casimir. “We’re in trouble.”

  Forty-five

  Two days later, the trial concluded. According to reports, the jury took all of about ten minutes to find in favor of the plaintiffs and award them the entire forty-five-million-dollar settlement.

  Judge Martingale approved the settlement in record time, and gave the Pemkowet tri-community governments a hundred and eighty days to pay the entirety of this impossible sum.

  It’s not like the writing hadn’t been on the wall for most of the trial’s duration, but the verdict unleashed a firestorm of acrimony and recrimination. Residents of Pemkowet Township complained bitterly about the unfairness of being dragged into the lawsuit in the first place, and officials from Pemkowet and East Pemkowet pointed fingers at one another. Chief Bryant got his fair share of criticism, but the worst vitriol was reserved for Amanda Brooks, who in turn blamed her daughter.

  Of course, everyone knew the entire trial was a farce and that in a sane world, the verdict would be overturned on appeal. But that’s not what happened.

  The town hall meeting—actually a tri-community meeting—that turned our lives upside down was scheduled on short notice to discuss the situation. If it hadn’t been for Lurine, I’d have been in a state of near despair, but she remained surprisingly upbeat about the state of affairs, even after I confessed the whole fake-bomb-threat-slash-protection-charm caper to her.

  “No offense, cupcake, but I really think your little coven could have come up with a less, um, dangerously illegal plan,” she said mildly. “Don’t worry about this Dufreyne and his threat. One way or another, I’ll take care of him.”

  I eyed her. “Not that I’m entirely opposed to the notion, but is there a way that doesn’t involve squishing him?”

  Lurine shrugged. “Well, he’s guilty of tampering with a federal jury, not to mention interfering with a judge. Now that I know magic will function in his presence no matter where he is, I’m sure I could persuade him it would be in his best interests to recuse himself from the case when it’s appealed and let the legal process take its course. You should have told me sooner about hell-spawns carrying their own underworlds inside them,” she added. “I could have paid him a visit weeks ago and laid this whole business to rest.”

  Oh, gah! Yes, I should have. I had a strong urge to stab myself in the eye with a fork. “It didn’t occur to me.”

  “Sometimes the best defense is a strong offense, baby girl,” Lurine said. “If you’re going to protect this town, you might need to take the fight to your enemies instead of waiting for it to come to you. Right now, we just need to make sure Pemkowet’s willing to go forward with the appeal. Once that’s in play, I’ll deal with Dufreyne.”

  “Are you sure you can handle him?” I asked. “After all, he’s invoked his birthright.”

  Lurine gave me a sidelong look. “You don’t think my powers of persuasion are a match for his?”

  I flushed. “I’m just asking.”

  She laughed. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. But don’t worry. If I can’t persuade him, I’ll settle for squishing him.”

  It was a huge relief. Well, except for the part about the squishing. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Mostly.

  I felt guilty relying on Lurine to bail us out of a bad situation, but not as guilty as I felt about all my missteps along the way. Lurine was right. Instead of focusing on protecting the judge, I should have concentrated on attacking Dufreyne with everything at my disposal the minute he’d revealed himself as an adversary. It was the same mistake I’d made with Sinclair’s mother last fall. I’d been too hesitant, too trusting in the advice and suggestions of others.

  And, maybe, a little too absorbed in my own complicated love life.

  No more.

  Along with reassuring the coven and the Scooby Gang that Lurine had promised to handle Daniel Dufreyne, I did a lot of thinking about what my role in fixing this mess ought to be. Acting in my capacity as Hel’s liaison, I asked the board and council members for the opportunity to be the first speaker to address the town meeting. Although somewhat bemused, they agreed to it.

  Pemkowet City Hall was packed to the rafters the evening of the town meeting. I have to admit, it was only the second meeting I’d attended. Mom and I had gone to one years ago, hoping it would be just like the popcorn-worthy town meetings in Stars Hollow on Gilmore Girls, but it turned out that the reality of municipal governance was a lot more dull and prosaic than it appeared on television.

  Anyway.

  The Pemkowet PD was providing security, including Cody, who studiously avoided looking at me when I arrived with Stefan. Members of the township board and the city councils were crammed shoulder to shoulder into seats at a long table at the front of the hall, with a podium and a microphone set up at an angle for residents of the tri-community area to address the room. The rest of us were crammed into seats facing them, latecomers packed into the standing-room-only spaces in the aisles and at the back of the hall. The furnace wasn’t working properly and the place was frigid.

  After the opening remarks, Jason Hallifax, the mayor of Pemkowet, called me to the stand.

  “Good evening.” My nerves got the better of me, and my greeting came out at a higher pitch than I’d intended. In the audience, Stefan met my gaze and gave me an encouraging nod. His pupils dilated slightly, and I felt my anxiety abate as he drew on the connection between us. “I’d like to start out by apologizing to everyone here.”

  It got their attention. I saw my friends scattered throughout the audience frowning in perplex
ity, including my mom.

  “As Hel’s liaison, it’s my job to enforce her order in the eldritch community in Pemkowet,” I said, my voice steady now. “And that includes protecting you from predators. I took down the Tall Man. I banished the Night Hag. But I failed to protect Pemkowet from Daniel Dufreyne.” There were murmurs of surprise. “We know in our hearts, all of us, that that trial was rigged,” I continued. “And some of you may have heard rumors. Well, I’m here to confirm them. Dufreyne’s a hell-spawn, just like me. Unlike me, he was able to invoke his birthright without breaching the Inviolate Wall. He has infernal powers, including the power of persuasion.”

  “How’s that different from any other lawyer?” someone called, setting off a ripple of nervous laughter.

  I ignored the interruption. “It’s not that I didn’t try to oppose him, but the problem is that I didn’t fight smart. I should have been shouting his identity from the rooftops. I should have been meeting with our legal team to figure out a way that we could pool our resources, eldritch and mundane alike, to expose Dufreyne for what he is, to negate his influence. And I promise you, as we move forward with this appeal, that’s exactly what we’ll do. And it will work.”

  There was applause as I took my seat.

  The next speaker to address the room was Don Reynolds, whose young son had been one of the Night Hag’s victims. “Look, I’ve got a lot of appreciation for what you do, Daisy,” he said. “My boy sleeps soundly at night because of you. But I’m concerned about throwing good money after bad. We’ve already spent tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees. What happens if you’re wrong or you fail again?” He shook his head. “If we appeal and lose, we’re right back where we started, only deeper in the hole. I think Pemkowet’s tri-community governments need to take a hard look at their assets, and figure out how we’re going to pay the damages.”

  There were some boos and hisses in the mix, but I was surprised at the number of people who applauded.

  Over the course of the next half hour, various citizens spoke for and against appealing the verdict. A lot of people were just flat-out scared of the repercussions of losing an appeal, of the mounting legal fees.

  The meeting had started at five thirty, and it was about a quarter past six when Lurine sauntered up to the podium. While the rest of us huddled in our coats to ward off the chill, Lurine was wearing a form-fitting sheath dress of black satin, a pearl necklace, and a pair of Louboutins with five-inch heels, and appeared oblivious to the cold.

  Given that she regularly swam in Lake Michigan in midwinter in her true form, I suppose that wasn’t a surprise.

  A few men in the audience whistled as she adjusted the microphone. “Why, thank you, sweethearts.” Lurine smiled. “Tell me, are any of you gambling men?”

  “I’ll take a gamble on you any day!” one of them shouted.

  Her smile deepened. “Aren’t you cute? Well, I like a good gamble from time to time myself. Now that I’ve heard both sides of the argument, I’m willing to gamble on a little thing I like to call the American justice system—not to mention my dear young friend Daisy—which is why I’m offering to underwrite the legal expenses of an appeal.”

  The hall burst into spontaneous applause.

  “She waited long enough to make her offer,” Stefan murmured in my ear, sounding amused.

  I smiled. “It takes good timing to make an entrance.”

  “Thank you,” Lurine said sweetly when the applause died. “Now, I’m confident that we’ll win the appeal and recoup our legal fees in full, having had some experience in these matters, but . . .” She raised one hand. “In the very unlikely event that I’m wrong, I promise to personally spearhead the fund-raising effort to settle the damages. And I do still know a few people in Hollywood with deep pockets,” she added.

  More cheers erupted.

  Lurine shifted to address the board and council members. “Now, just to be clear, that offer is contingent on your decision to appeal this ridiculous verdict.”

  “It’s a generous offer,” Mayor Jason Hallifax said sincerely. “I think I speak for all three municipalities when I say thank you, Ms. Hollister.”

  “Of course, you’re very—” Lurine began.

  At the back of the hall, the doors opened unexpectedly. A warm breeze swept into the room. It smelled like summer, like newly mown grass, like apricots ripening in the sun, sweet and golden and indolent. It was a scent that suggested an idyllic afternoon, dozing in a hammock in the deep green shade in the hottest part of the day, the sound of honeybees droning in the background.

  I felt myself relaxing without thinking about it, the room’s chill driven from my bones. Everyone did.

  Well, almost everyone.

  At the podium, Lurine stiffened, her gaze taking on a basilisk stare as she whispered something under her breath.

  The woman escorted into the Pemkowet City Hall by a contingent of security guards in black jackets and trousers was, hands down, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life.

  And based on the profound sense of presence that charged the summery air, a sense I’d never encountered anywhere but Hel’s throne room in Little Niflheim, she was also a goddess.

  A goddess, walking aboveground. That wasn’t supposed to be possible.

  A miasma of fruit hung in the air: apricots, nectarines, apples, pears, and plums, ripe and succulent. Sun-warmed grapes hanging in clusters on the vine. But there was another note beneath it, rank and poisonous.

  Beside the goddess gliding into the hall strode Daniel Dufreyne, grinning like a shark.

  I glanced around me, but everyone in the hall sat transfixed in their seats as the impossibly beautiful woman approached the podium.

  Lurine’s eyes flashed as she breathed a name, her voice filled with ancient hatred. “Persephone.”

  Persephone.

  Duh.

  That damned Dufreyne may have been splitting hairs, but he’d told the truth. It wasn’t Hades who was interested in Pemkowet. It had never been Hades.

  It was his fucking wife.

  Standing on her tiptoes, Persephone whispered in Lurine’s ear. Lurine shot me an anguished glance before closing her eyes and listening. After a long moment, she bowed her head in defeat.

  “I’m sorry,” Lurine murmured into the microphone without looking at anyone. “My offer is withdrawn.”

  I wanted to cry.

  Forty-six

  Moving like an automaton, Lurine returned to take her seat beside my mother. Seeing her so defeated hurt me inside like I’d swallowed a mouthful of ground glass, and beneath the hurt was a building tide of anger.

  “Daisy.” Stefan touched my arm. “You need to keep your wits about you.”

  “I’m trying,” I hissed at him. “But that’s a goddamned goddess up there!”

  “I know.”

  Any semblance of an ordinary town meeting had gone right out the window. With Dufreyne’s assistance, Persephone’s security brigade took over at the front of the hall, setting up an easel and propping a foam-board-mounted map of the Pemkowet area on it. It looked a lot like the map Lee had shown me months ago.

  Throughout it all, the goddess herself stood with her hands clasped before her, gazing beneficently at everyone and no one.

  I stood up. “Excuse me, Mr. Mayor,” I said to Jason Hallifax. “But um . . . point of order? This is a town meeting for residents of the Pemkowet tri-community area. Are you and the other members just going to let a bunch of outsiders take over?”

  The mayor of Pemkowet blinked at me. “Now, Daisy, you had your chance to speak. Don’t be rude. Let’s hear what Miss . . . Miss . . .” His voice trailed off as he turned his head to stare in adoration at the goddess. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”

  There were nods of agreement all around.

  “Thank you.” Persephone’s voice was soft and lilting, and when she spoke, there might as well have been a background track of birdsong and a babbling brook behind her. Her mouth was as
lush as a ripe plum, and her faint Greek accent made her sound like Arianna Huffington dipped in honey. She looked all of nineteen or twenty, with exquisite features framed by shining brown hair in which gold highlights glinted, as though a private source of sunlight shone on her everywhere she went. “I wish to make you an offer. Mr. Dufreyne will explain.”

  “No,” I said firmly. “Not him. No way.”

  Persephone turned her gaze on me. Her wide-set eyes were green, flecked with more shimmers of gold. She looked utterly beautiful and possibly a little bit insane. “You are the Norse Hel’s liaison Daisy, are you not?”

  “Yes.”

  Her ripe lips curved into a smile. “Daisy. I adore daisies. I understand that you are angry, but Mr. Dufreyne is not your enemy. He serves me through my husband, and I am here to do what is best for Pemkowet.”

  I glared at her. “By instigating a lawsuit against us?”

  “Oh, but you wouldn’t have listened otherwise, would you?” Persephone’s voice took on a tone of reproach. “And you brought this on yourselves, did you not?” Heads nodded all around the room again. “I fear that Hel has not ruled you wisely,” she said with regret.

  “Are you offering to take her place?” I asked in a hard voice. “Because that’s not up for negotiation.”

  Persephone’s sun-flecked gaze shifted back to me. “It would be simpler if you allowed my representative to speak,” she said plaintively. “Will you allow it if I promise his words will be mere words?”

  I hesitated, then shook my head. “I’d like to hear it in your words.”

  She gave a delicate sigh. “Very well. Elysian Fields is prepared to offer fifty million dollars to purchase a large piece of property owned by the city of Pemkowet.” A murmur of pleased surprise ran through the hall. Persephone glanced at Dufreyne, knitting her perfect brows. “That is enough to settle the debt that is owed, with additional funds to be shared for their trouble, is it not?”

  He inclined his head. “It is, my lady.”