by Brie Tart
“This establishment is even more detestable than that witch’s establishment.” A familiar posh accent said. Ailpien.
“Their food is greasy and full of artificial preservatives.” Dylan slurped, licking his chops. “It’s amazing.”
A tan waitress with fire engine red hair walked up and took their order. Dylan got his usual pop and loaded nachos. Ailpien asked for water, no ice, with an audible sneer. The waitress mumbled something about a pretty prick as she disappeared.
“My little girl’s home alone,” Dylan said. “Let’s make this short.”
“It will take as long as it has to,” Ailpien replied. “Professional courtesy demands I inform you of some news so you and your child are not caught up in it. A bounty is on your sweetheart: bring her in alive in exchange for an open favor. Unless you wanted to hand her over and reap the reward, her majesty has ordered that you don’t intervene.”
“What?” A hand slammed against a table. “Our deal said—”
“The deal you made was for ‘your family.’ While your personal definition may include your woman, the High Queen thinks otherwise. You two aren’t united by any wedlock oath or contract, and the only blood kin you have is that daughter. While her majesty took mercy on you for your years of dedication, your feelings have made you careless, and now your charge is running loose.”
The door inside the restaurant squeaked open, and the red-headed waitress stepped back into view. Ice clinked against two plastic cups. Helen would’ve bet the server put ice in Ailpien’s drink on purpose. The guys stayed quiet until she left.
“This is about your sidekick, Ewan, right? Did you find any proof she killed him?”
“Memories gathered from onlookers. And your child was with her.”
“Anonymous memories don’t prove intent. You said he died while I was with her uncle—investigating your crimes, the experiments that created this entire problem. That means she was still in the dark about this stuff.” Dylan’s tone got threatening, more mature than Helen had ever heard from him. “I know Hel, it’s been my job to know her. She doesn’t attack somebody without a reason. If the Unseelie taint was still dormant, and she had Lucy with her, that means Ewan struck first. He went against the Queen’s declaration that no Seelie was to go near her and risk activating her abilities.”
“Which is why her majesty allowed me to put out the bounty, so the tainted spawn can be questioned and the course of how to deal with her can be re-evaluated.”
Helen leaned forward even more, far enough to get a better view of both men.
“If she’s still dormant, like you claim, then her memories can be cleaned, and she will return to your domestic fantasy. If she’s been awakened, however, and managed to explore those talents behind your back…” Ailpien paused as he took a sip from his condensation laced cup. He locked eyes with Helen.
Helen froze in place and a fine layer of itchy energy fell over her. Every signal her brain sent to her legs told them to run. They stayed nailed in place like her muscles were full of lead. Ailpien must’ve used magic to keep her in place. Yoel had said Seelie fae could tell something was an illusion or a glamour if they were close enough. If Ailpien paid attention up close, would he see through the heart charm’s disguise?
“Someone is watching us and they smell like an abomination.” Ailpien tilted his chin toward Helen. “Fetch her.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself, Mister High-And-Mighty?”
“Because this is a public place, and I’m bound by the treaty.” Ailpien flared his pointed nostrils. “That oath doesn’t bind you, underling. Now do as asked, or else.”
“Whatever.” Dylan started toward Helen at a casual stroll.
Helen was able to pass through Yoel’s weird protective spells. Maybe she could break out of the power holding her in place the same way. Ailpien’s magic didn’t feel like Yoel’s, though. Did that mean she couldn’t disrupt it?
Dylan had almost reached the end of the patio.
Helen squeezed her eyes shut and focused on stoking that hot energy always bubbling in her gut. Ewan threatening Lucy, plunging her machete into the Lennan Sìth, tearing into the Hidden Folk at the abandoned factory. Nothing came but the satisfaction of nostalgia. Why focus on the past when her chosen prey sat so close? Ailpien had tormented her mom, helped kill Uncle Tommy, sent Dylan to spy on her. Would he try to ruin her little girl next?
Helen’s skin got tight, inflated with boiling energy that she thrust against the layer of foreign magic covering her. Cracks formed in Ailpien’s spell until the heat melted it away. Helen swiveled around and launched into the parking lot.
“Hurry!” Ailpien called. “She’s getting away.”
“That’s a Hellhound!” Dylan protested back. “I can’t take one of those.”
“The order stands.”
Helen passed out of earshot as she darted onto the sidewalk. Her skin cooled and her legs pumped slower the further away she went. The Unseelie mojo slinked back into her gut and took its boosts with it. She knew her way around that area and could outrun Dylan’s shorter legs any day. But to lose him, she needed a plan. Without a destination in mind, she’d wander aimlessly until he found a way to cut her off.
She risked looking over her shoulder as she neared an intersection. Nobody directly behind her. Gold hair flashed under a streetlight from the roof of a nearby building. Dylan? He’d shown her parkour videos on the internet sometimes, but she had no idea he could actually do that. That complicated things. If she ran in a straight line, he could spot her from his perch and plot a course to intercept her. She had to disappear.
Helen cut into a line of two story houses with flaking paint and sagging foundations. They were all two-stories high with sloping roofs that would take more time to scale if Dylan stuck with his Spider-Man antics. He’d have to join her on the ground to keep pace. It gave her a few extra seconds, but not much.
A stitch stabbed into her ribs, and she caught herself panting. She had to go somewhere close where she could ditch the charm on her neck, her disguise. That wouldn’t change her clothes, though. Most stores were closed by then, so she couldn’t go in and swipe a new outfit. Outlets did have dumpsters, and Tommy had taught her about the perfectly good clothing they tossed with the garbage.
Helen checked over her shoulder again. Dylan abandoned his rooftop strategy and joined her on the ground. He sprinted through the yards and driveways as he closed in like a damned cheetah.
Adrenaline fueled her as she made a sharp turn between two houses, swerving into their cramped backyards. A few lights came on in the a house’s windows as she slid into a plastic slide and tipped it over. Her foot throbbed as she stumbled forward and kept on.
Helen recognized the streets at the intersection on the end of the block. The road on the right had a strip mall with a small boutique further down. They would have dumpsters behind them. She wound through a few more houses, trying to lose Dylan in the yards. More lights came on as she vaulted over a wood divider fence. The strip mall lay across the next street.
Her chest burned, but she was almost there. Going from soft grass to black pavement took away the suburban cover behind her. A few cars were still in the parking lot of a fast food joint with a 24 hour drive thru. She had to throw Dylan off her trail, first.
A sedan and a minivan were parked side by side, both tall enough for Helen to duck between. She charged for the gap between the vehicles and dropped to a crouch. Her knees and ankles trembled under her as she sucked in breath after breath. Would that be enough to send him in another direction?
Overhead lights illuminated the lot and gave both cars on either side of her thick shadows. No footsteps. She strained her ears the furthest they could go. Nothing but a couple passing car tires grinding against the road. Had Dylan veered off, or was he sneaking around somewhere close?
Helen’s lead whittled down with each passing breath. She had to take the shot across the street toward the boutique. She retreated around the
minivan and made a break for the store, staying as low as she could manage in those chunky sneakers. The dumpsters came into view as she wound behind the outlet’s blacked out displays.
She flung the heart charm into the nearest bin. Her hair went down her back, and her skin firmed up. Next the dress had to go.
Helen eased the dumpster lid up. The night time darkness shrouded the bags of garbage. She’d have to get in there. Her heart raced in her ears as she dropped in and hit dumpster juice. She tore the dress over her head, then felt around the bags. Plastic. She ripped it open. Paper and styrofoam inside. Next bag. Rip. Piles of jeans. Paydirt. Helen dragged out the first pair she grabbed and wiggled into them.
A blonde head popped over the edge of the dumpster, his curls bouncing. “Wha...Hel?”
Helen fell ass first into more bags.
Dylan blinked. “You’re in a dumpster.”
“Yeah.” Helen shrugged as she got to her feet. She needed to come up with an explanation quick. Wait. No she didn’t. “Where’s Lucy?”
“Sleeping back at the room.” Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I needed a bite to eat and some fresh air.”
“This is pretty damn far out for food.”
“I was craving Hank’s nachos.” Both Dylan’s eyebrows went up as he looked from Helen’s exposed bra to her hips. “Didn’t you leave with a shirt?”
“I needed to get a disguise, and I found a good haul.” Helen dragged out the bag full of clothing she’d clawed open. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re leaving our little girl alone, when somebody burned the office down with us in it.”
“I’ve been stuck on babysitting duty ever since you got that job. I needed to get out for a bit.” Dylan flinched, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. “Why do you need a disguise to tail somebody?”
“I can’t have my mark getting wise to me. Gotta change it up. This is the only way to do it after everything closes.” Helen crossed her arms over her chest, holding firm even though the stitch in her ribs throbbed something fierce. “You know, doing my job instead of giving you the third degree about your shit.”
“Fine. I’ll drop it.” Dylan massaged his forehead as he glanced around. “You didn’t see a blonde pass by here, did you? Tall and a little chubby? Flowery dress?”
“Nah.” The relief that rushed through Helen almost made her forget why she was mad at Dylan for a second. She hopped out and landed by her shorter boyfriend. “You lookin’ for a hookup without me?”
“No, but she looked like somebody.” Dylan winced as he glanced down at Helen’s jeans. “I don’t think that haul’s as good as you thought, babe.”
“What?”
“Your ass is showing.”
Helen only noticed the cool breeze wafting across her butt just then. A big slash had been cut across the back of the jeans. “Seriously? What a waste.”
“Here, I’ll walk you back to your bike and you can give me a ride home.” Dylan grinned, flashing his dimple as he shrugged off his hoodie. He wrapped the sleeves around Helen’s waist so it covered the gap in her pants. “You can use my shirt ‘til we’re back too.”
As he tied the sleeves together into a knot, he hovered less than a foot away. Helen could’ve done anything to him that close. Maybe shove him against the wall behind her and bash him against it until he spilled everything? Grab him by the collar and kiss him ‘til she talked herself into keeping him? How should she react with everything she knew and everything she still didn’t? She settled on numbing herself as she pulled his t-shirt on and walked with him the long way to her bike.
“You’re right, by the way.” Dylan said as they passed Hank’s Burger Pit.
Helen checked the patio area from the corner of her eye. Empty. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have left Luce alone like that.” Dylan kicked a stray pebble into the bushes along the sidewalk. “Total truth. I detoured and got an update on our situation. I thought it was safe, but something new came up.”
“And?” Helen’s attention perked up. If he told her, maybe she could come clean too. She could let him know about the late nights training with Yoel and learning about the strange new world he’d known about from the start. He could say flat out that he hadn’t lured Tommy into a trap, that he had no choice, and that all he wanted was to be together with her and Lucy. If only she could hear him say it, she could forgive everything. “C’mon, tell me. We can figure it out together. Like old times.”
“I can’t, Hel.” Dylan’s chin drooped toward his feet. “The best I can tell you is that I’ll handle it. I can fix it. Then we’ll get out of here with Lucy and start over.”
Helen’s shoulders slumped and she held the confession hovering on the tip of her tongue. Whether it was pride or paranoia that made the words die, she had no idea. The trust she had for Dylan fizzled to a spark either way, and the crack in their foundation widened to a gorge.
“I’ve gotta go away for a little while to fix this. A week, tops. I need you to stay in, stay safe, and take care of Lucy while I’m gone.” Dylan squeezed Helen’s hand. “When I get back I’ll try to fix us too, okay?”
Helen didn’t trust herself to answer aloud. She gave him a little nod. This was better. With him gone on a mysterious errand, she could fix the situation her own way. Maybe she’d figure out what she wanted to do about them by then.
CHAPTER 17
“Sit tight, stay safe. Be smart, not stupid,” Dylan had mumbled by Helen’s ear as he gave her a lingering hug. Helen had gritted her teeth while her stomach tightened at Tommy’s goodbye mantra. She bit her tongue and kept her coiled emotions in check. Dylan kissed Lucy and got in the Honda.
It was deja vu As Dylan drove away. Helen held Lucy on her hip as her little girl waved at the Honda, crying “Bye Daddy!” over and over. Would Lucy cry this time after Dylan faded from sight with the car? Helen found her own chest getting tight, and her own throat getting clogged with phlegm. She couldn’t break down now. Lucy needed her strong, didn’t she? She cuddled the girl close as she walked them back to Lucy’s bed. It was 6:00ish, early enough that they still had some time to kill before the nightly story. Then once her little girl was tucked in, Helen could barricade herself in a loud shower and let whatever needed to come out wash away with the water.
“Looks like we’ve got another week of girl time,” Helen said, fake enthusiasm thick in her voice as she set Lucy on the mattress. “What now, Diamond Girl? Wanna try finding a cartoon?”
Lucy shook her head. A question was in her big green eyes. Her mouth got tight like she wanted to blurt it out, but was scared to.
“Remember, I can’t do that mind reading thing.” Helen smoothed a few of Lucy’s stray curls away with her thumb. “You gotta spit stuff out for me.”
“But Daddy was loud.” Lucy shrank into the comforter and pulled it up to her chest.
“He yelled at you?” Helen pinched her eyebrows together. Dylan never yelled at Lucy, and always did his best not to raise his voice when she could hear it. He’d get stern, but not harsh. “What happened?”
“I ask’d where’s Pa.”
Helen’s eyes stung as the dam holding back her pent up crying fit cracked. Her and Dylan had been putting off that question, dreading it. A member of the family had never died in Lucy’s lifetime. Knowing that curious little girl, if either of them gave her a bullshit excuse, she’d pry with needling question after question until the real answer came out.
Lucy scrunched her shoulders by her ears and tugged the blanket over her head. Helen climbed onto the bed next to her daughter, crossing her legs and making a little perch. She tugged the blanket off Lucy and pulled the toddler into her lap.
“How about a story?” Helen asked.
“But I wanna know ‘bout Pa.”
“It’s about him, baby girl, like the Hellfire stories.”
Lucy’s eyes got wide and excited as she hunkered down.
“It’s a secret, though.” Helen held out her pinky, that sa
cred swear that held so much meaning. “We’ve gotta promise on this one too. Just between us, unless I tell you it’s okay to tell somebody else.”
“I won’t tell the Pa story if Mam don’t say it’s okay.” Lucy locked her pinky with her mother’s.
Helen took a deep breath and set her hands on her knees, bracing herself for passing on the untold epic of her uncle. She started from the beginning, about her mother being a wannabe hippie turned white witch, and never wanting to hurt anybody. How Tommy would sneak Helen out when she was Lucy’s age to eat fast food, and how he introduced her to cheeseburgers. Tommy loved Ellie and her little Hellion the most out of anyone else, just like he loved Lucy when she came into the picture.
“But one day Grandma Ellie disappeared. Tommy didn’t see her for weeks and weeks. The police couldn’t find her either. Then weeks became months, then it was a couple years, and he gave up hope while he raised Hellion. When Hellion turned eight, that’s when Ellie snuck back to Tommy’s house. She came into Hellion’s room without telling anybody and woke her up.” Helen rubbed the white scar on her right palm, massaging it as she talked. “Baby girl, she was different. Something made her sour. She snatched me...Hellion out of her bed and threw her onto the floor. All around her, Ellie set up these candles while Hellion tried to figure out what was going on. Ellie had a couple knives she used to pin Hellion to the floor. Hellion was screaming for Tommy. Then that circle of candles turned into a big wall of fire. Ellie started chanting over Hellion in a weird language, and her hair turned white.”
Helen took a deep breath as she relived the scene. It was the first time she’d ever said anything about it aloud. She remembered bits and pieces of her mom before that, but those good scraps of memory were all tainted by that one vivid night when somebody she trusted mutilated her deeper than she knew.
Next, Tommy came charging through the fire and grabbed Hellion while Ellie was still chanting. The fire spread to everything else. The smoke was thick enough to choke. Tommy ran with Hellion out the fire escape window. When he realized he’d missed somebody, he checked over his shoulder to see if his sister had followed. He swore up and down other shadowy figures had joined Ellie in that room before her screams started. By then, the fire department and the cops had gotten there and were dragging Tommy and Hellion to safety.