Blood Rite Page 3

  “Oberon’s eyes, you two,” I said. “Get a room.”

  Jinx pressed harder into Forneus and he deepened his kiss. I pretend gagged—it didn’t take much acting skill since I was halfway to losing my breakfast—and rolled my eyes. After one more prolonged kiss, Jinx stepped away and Forneus pressed her hand to his lips.

  “Later, my beloved,” he said.

  He bowed, much more elegantly than the dwarf had, and swept toward the door.

  “Stay,” I said. Forneus and Jinx both raised as eyebrow at me as if it was now a synchronized sport. I winced and forced a smile. “Please?”

  “Since you asked so nicely, Miss Granger, I will delay my departure,” Forneus said, a grin tugging at his lips.

  Jinx nodded, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing.

  “Har har har, keep that up and I’ll stick spiders in your bed,” I said.

  “I knew that was you!” Jinx said with a snort.

  I shrugged. I couldn’t tell an outright lie. That didn’t mean I had to answer the question. I was getting good at this faerie princess stuff.

  Jinx was laughing, but Forneus looked less forgiving. I’d have to watch my back for the next few weeks. Hell, the long-lived had extensive memories and endless patience. I’d have to watch my back for eons.

  I groaned at the realization that revenge could come at the demon’s leisure, and Forneus winked. Great, just great.

  “So, what’s up?” Jinx asked.

  “Besides zombie gerbils and Byzantine vampire blood contracts?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, besides that,” she said, wiggling her fingers.

  “As much as I want to go zombie hunting, heck, I need to go solve this case before my faerie blood starts to think I’m shirking the terms of my bargain, I think we need to talk this out,” I said. “All of us.”

  “You believe more is going on than it appears,” Forneus said.

  “It’s a possibility,” I said. “We should be prepared. And I don’t want to miss something because I was too stubborn to ask. I’ve learned a lot about faeries and the undead. I’ve even had a run-in with a necromancer, but there’s still plenty I don’t know.”

  “Team meeting?” Jinx asked.

  “Family meeting,” I said.

  We may not be related by blood, but that didn’t make it any less true. Sometimes you can pick your family and sometimes they pick you. Jinx had walked into my life and become my sister in every way that mattered. More recently, Ceff and Sparky had become a part of that family. Even Marvin, Hob, Kaye, Midnight, Humphrey, and Galliel had found a special place in my life and in my heart. I would do anything to keep them safe. Anything at all.

  Chapter 6

  For the sake of expediency, I did have a bargain hanging over my head after all, we decided to limit our family meeting to our housemates. I’d reach out to Marvin and Hob and the rest of our friends and allies soon enough, but, for now, our office held my best friend, a demon attorney, a gargoyle, a demon toddler, and an immortal kelpie king.

  The fact that the kelpie king was bouncing the demon toddler on his knee and singing “Trot Trot to Boston” was an adorable bonus. Ceff’s steady presence had a way of soothing my nerves no matter what he did, but his obvious love for Sparky was a reminder of what I had to live for and what I fought for. I’d become a hero, a role that caused a lot of crummy things to happen and a hell of a lot of loss, but seeing those two smiling, and being surrounded by my friends and housemates, made it all worthwhile.

  I didn’t want to shatter the moment of domestic bliss, but the clock was ticking.

  “Jinx, did Gaius seem disproportionately angry to you?” I asked, mulling over the vampire’s earlier visit.

  Sir Gaius was never friendly, but he didn’t usually commit vandalism. Ceff had already dragged the vampire-tainted furniture out behind the building where Humphrey broke it into kindling with one hand while Forneus and I had torched it, and my bloody trash bin, with magic flames while Sparky flicked his sparking fingers together. We were one big scary family.

  Where the rest of us were scary powerful, Jinx was charming and clever. She was especially good when came to reading people. I sometimes wondered if that insight came from a subconscious awareness that most of the people in the room could crush her to a pulp or burn her to a crisp without even breaking a sweat.

  Not that she was weak or defenseless. My friend was tough as nails and highly skilled with a crossbow, a weapon which she now absently touched from where it was slung over her shoulder. Jinx was a survivor.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding. “Gaius was definitely way more pissed off than he should have been. He usually walks around like he’s got a stick up his butt, never showing any emotion at all. I kept thinking that he was taking this way too personal. I mean, come on, he was foaming at the mouth.”

  “Raaabies!” Sparky squealed, getting down on all fours and growling at Humphrey.

  The gargoyle growled right back, the sound like a ton of bricks in a cement mixer. I had to remind myself that the kids were just playing, Sparky wasn’t in any danger. In fact, me being an overprotective mama wisp was why the kid even knew what rabies were. I should probably cut back on the safety-first bedtime stories.

  Ceff stood and leaned against a row of filing cabinets, but kept an eye on Sparky. Even Forneus was smiling at the kid. I had to force myself not to get distracted.

  “Then we’re in agreement,” I said, nodding at Jinx. “Gaius was angrier than he should have been.”

  “That would suggest that Sir Gaius felt threatened by what transpired with the stealing of these corpses,” Ceff said.

  He remained leaning against our filing cabinets, arms crossed over his muscular chest, but I noticed the small shift in his posture. Ceff took a step to widen his stance and he shifted his weight to the balls of his bare feet, adopting a fighting pose. I wasn’t even sure he was aware of it, but Jinx definitely noticed.

  She raised an eyebrow, but I shrugged, looking away. We were all on edge and would probably continue to be until we solved this damn case.

  “Do you think it mattered that whoever stole the bodies did it using necromancy?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. I stared at the ceiling, trying to sort through what we knew of the case so far. “Like, would using magic to raise the dead be any more of an insult or threat to Gaius than just digging them up and driving away with them?

  “In this case, I believe that the means is less important than the resultant theft,” Forneus said, nodding slowly. “The property to which Sir Gaius stakes his claim, in this case the property being corpses buried within the city’s boundary lines, was most certainly the focus of the contract he so unceremoniously dropped on your floor. While concerning for us, I do not believe the vampire’s ire is much affected by the raising of the dead, only the theft of their corpses.”

  “Anyone else concerned that bodies buried within the city limits belong to the vamps?” I asked. “I, for one, am not cool with this.”

  “Seconded,” Ceff said, managing to play rabid doggy with Sparky and Humphrey while we went over the case and a possible threat to our city. Our lives were so weird.

  “Me three,” Jinx said.

  “No threeee!” Sparky yelled, pulling himself onto two feet, tiny hands on his hips.

  We’d gone over the dangers of saying something, especially a promise, three times. In the world of faeries and demons, a thrice told thing could ensnare and bind. Ceff flashed me a worried look, but it disappeared behind a jovial mask as he asked Sparky how to count to ten. Toddler distracted and crisis averted, but yes, I might need to cut back on teaching my kid about everything that was scary and dangerous. In our world, that was a hell of a lot.

  I might not have been as relaxed lately as I’d thought.

  “What about the fact that the stolen bodies were fae, rather than human?” I asked, returning to our original problem.

  I’d worry about how to improve my parenting skills later. The fact that I�
�d been more prepared to fight monsters than to become a parent probably had something to do with why I was screwing up. I never planned for this. I had no idea what I was doing.

  Thankfully, that didn’t keep the kid, or Ceff, from loving me. Ceff carried Sparky over and shot me a questioning look. I nodded and opened my arms, and Ceff dropped the toddler into my lap. Sparky babbled happily for a second and fell fast asleep.

  My breath hitched and a silly grin slid across my face. Somehow, in the midst of the worst danger and horrors, I’d become this little guy’s safe place. I was more shocked than anyone.

  Sparky sucked on the end of one of his long, floppy ears and I shifted him in my lap. I didn’t mind getting visions from my kid, most of his memories were happy and the ones that weren’t featured me as his hero, but a vision would cut into time that I didn’t currently have.

  “So, why is Gaius so mad?” Jinx asked.

  “A new player in town?” I asked. “Someone stupid enough or powerful enough not to care about his harvesting rights?”

  “It is a possibility,” Forneus said. “That would surely cause Sir Gaius to feel threatened. Though to what purpose it’s still unclear. Without that knowledge it is hard to say if they are a threat only to Gaius, the vampires, or to us all.”

  I knew that Kaye’s current state of health and the glaistig’s recent disappearance—both of which I was largely responsible for—created a power vacuum. It was inevitable that, eventually, someone or something would come to fill that void. It was that pesky balance thing again.

  But I hadn’t stood idly by waiting for the next power player to roll into town. Remember those security measures that I’d mentioned? They included spreading rumors and misinformation. And I’d had help from the best gossipmonger our city had.

  Torn cast rumors into the shadows, whispered to his cats, and into the ears of our enemies. As far as the world knew, Kaye O’Shay was here in Harborsmouth, making preparations to build a new Emporium bigger and better than before. More importantly, we gave the impression that she was out for blood, pissed off by the Wild Hunt’s attack, and itching to flex her magic might in the protection of her city.

  It was, of course, mostly a lie, and fae aren’t supposed to be able to tell a lie. But that’s what made the exaggerations and half-truths so believable. Even our enemies could be fooled when the misinformation came from the truth-telling, shadow-dwelling cat sidhe. Who better to know Harborsmouth’s secrets? And who better to believe than a faerie who cannot tell a lie?

  It had worked, so far. It probably helped that we already had other major players in our midst. Loathe as I was to admit it, Sir Gaius and his nest of vampires kept a lot of nasties away. Not many supernaturals are brave enough or dumb enough to enter a vampire’s territory uninvited.

  “We need more information,” Ceff said.

  I had a prime source for the city’s secrets. Too bad that source had taken to prowling the city’s less savory bars and bringing every faerie he met into his bed.

  It wasn’t the casual sex that squicked me out, not really. It was the fact that Torn, Lord of the Cat Sidhe, leveraged sex for information. He was proud of the secrets he stole during what he called “pillow talk” and that niggled at my concept of consent.

  Whether it was wrong or not, it was damn sneaky. For all his help with the disinformation campaign, I’d avoided Torn lately, which might be unfair. But his relentless flirting with Jinx, who was now betrothed and sick to death of Torn’s innuendos, and his prowling of Harborsmouth’s underbelly had put a strain on our relationship.

  We’d been though a lot together, but every time I accepted him as part of our family, he did something to piss me off. Jinx said it was part of a self-destructive pattern that I, of all people, should understand.

  I avoided Jinx’s statement, but I couldn’t stay away from Torn. Deep down, I knew that he was hurting. My father, one of Torn’s few friends, had returned to Harborsmouth only to turn around and leave again. That loss left a hole in my heart. What had Willem’s leaving done to Torn?

  I imagine all the wedding talk hadn’t done much to soften the blow. Everyone was pairing off, leaving Torn on his own. I used to think he preferred it that way, but I used to believe that about myself too and look at how that turned out.

  Huh, maybe Jinx had a point. Torn and I might be more alike than I thought.

  “I know a good place to start, I said. “I need to visit Torn.”

  Chapter 7

  I left Jinx and Forneus to hold down the office. Humphrey agreed to stand sentinel and guard the building from the rooftop. Ceff promised to take Sparky to visit Marvin and Hob, and to quietly ask questions and let the local fae know about the zombie problem. Since that problem only involved gerbil-like creatures, I hadn’t contacted the local Hunters’ Guild, yet.

  That was why, with drizzle soaking into the neck of my jacket, I scowled at the end of the alley that served as the entrance to the cat sidhe court. The alley ran alongside Club Nexus, a nightclub that served as a hidden haunt for Harborsmouth’s paranormal underworld. The ogre manning the door at Club Nexus nodded, but he didn’t make eye contact.

  Funny how the not-so-secret-secret of my royal lineage had made its rounds, and the various ways that members of the local supernatural community had reacted. Some had declared fealty, some demanded a duel, but most just seemed extra awkward around me. Being a faerie princess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It was like high school but with more homework.

  That homework, researching in Father Michael’s library and reading what I could from any of the salvageable books from the scorched wreckage of The Emporium, was one of the reasons that Torn was such a conundrum.

  Dragons? Centaurs? Demons? Unicorns? There were entire libraries of information. But try to look into the workings of the cat sidhe court and you hit a wall of shadow and obfuscation. Not that I was surprised. I expected nothing less from my friend. And, yes, for all his lesser qualities, Torn was, to my eternal surprise, a friend—a fact I should probably remind him of now that his guards were staring me down.

  “Let her pass,” Torn said. “The princess is an ally, for now.”

  “I think we can agree that we’re not only allies, but, hopefully, also friends,” I said, stepping into the alley.

  Torn’s eyes widened and I flashed him a bemused grin and a shrug.

  “I know, it surprises me too,” I said. “But you know I’m telling you the truth.”

  I could rarely tell a lie these days, and only the tiniest white lies at that. Visiting Faerie had changed me. Or rather, it had hastened my body’s transformation to its true form, burning away the spell that had kept me mostly human. But I’d never been human, at least not biologically. I was the offspring of a wisp king and the queen of the Unseelie court. That came with new truths with massive ramifications. It also meant I was becoming sensitive to cold iron and I couldn’t tell a lie, mostly.

  “What truth is that, princess?” he asked, raising a hand to one of his scarred ears as if he hadn’t heard my admission.

  “We are friends,” I said with sigh.

  I ran a gloved hand through my hair. Of course, Torn would drag this out. Cat’s really do love toying with their prey. Mab’s bloody bones. He was enjoying himself.

  “Can you repeat that?” he asked with feigned innocence. “I didn’t quite catch...”

  I threw a wooden stake from my utility belt and hit him on the shoulder. He was lucky it wasn’t one of my blades. A cat hissed, but Torn tipped back his head and laughed.

  “Ah, princess,” he said. “You do keep things interesting. What can I do for you, my friend.”

  I was going to kill Torn.

  “I need your ears,” I said.

  He flicked his scarred, battle-worn ears, setting the dangling bones and fetishes to clattering, and I sighed.

  “Not your ears, the ears of your cats, your spies,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I need to know if they hear anything about grave robbing, or
of any reanimated dead.”

  “Vampires? Ghouls?” he asked. “You need to be more specific, princess.”

  I sighed, nearly growling in frustration.

  “Zombies.”

  “Zombies?” he asked, eyes shining with interest. “Someone is robbing graves and creating zombies?”

  “Yes, well, ah, of a kind,” I stammered.

  “A kind,” he said.

  “A type,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “What type of zombies are we talking about?” he asked. “It’s not Halloween. People would be talking if human corpses were shuffling down Congress Street.”

  “Zombie gerbils,” I muttered. “Well, they’re really faeries, but that’s a long story.”

  Torn leaned in close, and I immediately regretted this visit and my decision to ask the cat sidhe for help.

  “Oh, I’ll make time for that story,” he said, licking his lips. “I thought the shadows held the best whispers, but you win, princess. Zombie gerbils. This I’ve got to hear.”

  “Since you seem so enamored with the critters, you want to help me hunt them down?” I asked.

  A Cheshire cat grin slid across Torn’s scarred face and he flexed his hands, claws sliding in and out of my fingertips.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 8

  I frowned, squinting into the mist and fog surrounding the pet cemetery. How the heck had I ended up here, hunting zombie gerbils with Torn? I was wet, my head ached, and the tendrils of fog swirling and slithering around my ankles gave the vertiginous impression that there was no solid ground beneath my feet.

  “You know, I meant to ask if you or your cats have heard of any new supernaturals in town,” I said, scanning the cemetery walls for the best place to enter. We certainly weren’t strolling through the iron gates. “Gaius is pretty pissed off that someone is stealing his corpses.”