Undeading Bells (Fred Book 6)

by Hayes, Drew

  “That one predominantly uses chocolate, coconut, and espresso.” Charlotte was in what I thought of as her usual form, except she’d swapped the dated dress for a chef’s coat, white pants, and one of those white poofy hats you see more in cartoons than in actual use. Sometimes, I wondered how much of her appearance was for our sake versus just amusing herself.

  “Bleh, not a coconut fan.” In spite of her words, Krystal jammed a fork down and took a taste. “Although you almost make it palatable.”

  “I like coconut, and the cake, but it’s certainly something of a controversial flavor choice. We should lean toward things more people will enjoy.”

  Our eyes turned to the next hunk of dessert in the lineup: a white cake with orange frosting that I was quite curious to try. Before we had a chance, June appeared in the doorway.

  As Krystal’s maid of honor, June’s presence had become increasingly common in recent weeks. The closer the wedding drew, the more she was around for support and help, to the point where I’d rented out a room for her with Charlotte. It was truly the least I could do to repay all of her assistance, which was varied, numerous, and included the swatch of fabric draped over her arm.

  “Yo, Krystal, quick interruption. I finally got a hold of Umar to go over designs for your rehearsal dinner outfit. He says the fabric you wanted won’t stand up to having that many enchantments layered on. Either lose a function or resign yourself to scratchier fabric.”

  “Fine, tell him to drop the deflecting enchantment. Probably overkill on top of the durability boosts, anyway.”

  No sooner had Krystal said the words than June gave a thumbs-up and darted back down to wherever she’d left her phone. Before I had a chance to even ask, Krystal turned to me and explained. “Sometimes, there will be an idiot who decides to take a run at an agent when they’re having one of these major life events. Company policy is to minimize such chances by making sure we’re ready to fight, even while metaphorically dressed to kill. Obviously, since our event is in Boarback, good fucking luck to any idiot who tries something, but I never turn down a chance to get a new outfit on the company dime. Mostly going to use it on missions after this, anyway.”

  The strategy seemed slightly counterintuitive, given what I knew of Krystal’s power, which appeared to engage whenever she was hurt or in peril. A person with those innate skills seemed like they would warrant less defense, not more. However, I acknowledged that my understanding was limited: I wasn’t involved in that world, nor did I want to be. Whatever Krystal’s tactics, they existed for a reason, and I’d be an absolute imbecile to think I had a better grasp on the demands of that job than the people actually doing it.

  “This next cake is white chocolate, with chunks of it throughout the icing. You’ll also note vanilla, hints of caramel, and a few other flavors I’ll let you try to suss out.”

  Whatever the hidden flavors were, I didn’t catch them. After a quick first bite, I took my time on the second, and by the time I looked up, the rest of the cake sample was gone. Even Krystal looked somewhat surprised at the suddenly empty plate and incriminating fork in her hand.

  “Damn . Just found my front-runner.”

  “If you’d like further samples, I can have more brought out,” Charlotte offered.

  I could see Krystal was ready to accept the offer and so hurriedly spoke first. “How about we take you up on that after we finish the tasting? Can’t ruin our appetites for cake before we’ve tried all our options.”

  There was a slight pout in my fiancée’s expression; although, paired with a playful wink, it wasn’t too melancholy. She perked up even more when the next cake proved to be peanut butter based with no coconut. It didn’t vanish like the white chocolate selection had, yet the plate was cleaned all the same.

  Just as we were moving on to the final sample, June dashed into the doorway again. “Sorry, sorry, Umar wants to know where you’ll hide the gun on this outfit. He’s going to pad the fabric and add concealed pockets so you—”

  Without so much as a flash of light for warning, June was suddenly gone. All that remained was a flurry of snow that landed on Charlotte’s floors and immediately melted. It was quite the impressive trick; I’d never seen her teleport like that. Only when I looked at Krystal’s face did I realize that something was amiss.

  “June?” Krystal rose from the couch, looking around. “Not funny. Not the time.” A slight edge crept into her voice, the reality she was trying to ignore forcing its way through. “Where are you?”

  “A man is coming up the walk,” Charlotte informed us. “He employed some manner of cloaking magic; I didn’t notice him until he was already in the parking lot.”

  Magical concealment at the same time one of our friends vanished didn’t take much math to put together, and the absolute fury building in Krystal’s eyes told me she’d finished the equation. Leaping to my feet, I placed myself between her and the door. “Hold on, let’s make sure the two things are connected for certain before we make any bold decisions. There’s always the chance it’s a coincidence.”

  “Bullshit,” Krystal spat back.

  “Then how about the chance that someone timed June’s disappearance like this on purpose, so we’d be tricked into attacking a potential ally?” Though it was true that I hadn’t gained much experience in Krystal’s world, I did have the advantage of having seen quite a few films about espionage. To me, the suggestion seemed convoluted and impractical, yet Krystal steadied herself, halting her powerful march toward the front door.

  “Probably also bullshit, but not impossible. Especially since the Turva clan still holds a grudge.” Her fingers flexed against her palm, nails trying to pierce her flesh. “If those bastards have hurt her…”

  “June is an agent. I highly doubt that if they had the means to steal one of us from inside Charlotte Manor that she would be the choice, especially knowing how much Petre would love to get his hands on me. Let’s answer the door and go from there.”

  Moving as a unit, we exited the living room and headed down the hall. Before we reached the door, I noticed the sizable form of Gregor standing nearby, as well as Al, who was seated in a large chair reading one of the many accounting books I’d given her to study. I started to wonder how Gregor had known about the guest, then noticed Charlotte’s old woman form standing behind the front desk. She could be anywhere and everywhere in this house at once; of course she’d alerted my bodyguard, as well.

  “Expecting trouble?” The question didn’t seem worried, more like Gregor wanted to know what kind of work this would be.

  “I sure fucking hope so.” That was, obviously, Krystal.

  The knock came then, crisp and sharp, two quick bangs. At my side, I felt Krystal go stiff. It meant something, but there wasn’t time enough to ask what. Gregor opened the door, carefully using his bulk to shield both Krystal and me from a potential surprise attack. Anyone who wanted to get to us would go through Gregor, and what a trip that would be.

  “Good day. I have come to deliver a message to the betrothed couple, a missive from Hellebore of the fey lands.” The man standing there was inhumanly beautiful, somehow both masculine and delicate at once. I might have stared more if June’s presence hadn’t inured me to the appearance of those with fey blood. It also didn’t hurt that I’d already seen this particular man before, albeit briefly.

  Before us, holding a silver letter, stood September Windbrook, June’s brother and Krystal’s former betrothed.

  Which effectively torched any chance at all that this was a coincidence.

  “What did you do?” Krystal started forward, a look in her eyes that genuinely scared me for a moment. I had no idea what the rules about agents fighting amongst themselves were—or whether such rules even existed at all—nor did I suspect Krystal cared one bit about them in that moment. “Tem, where the living shit is June?”

  “If you think I had the power to rip her from this place, especially given the house’s magical protections, then you’ve tr
uly lost your footing. Center yourself. While I dared not open the missive, I have no doubt you’ll want to be on top of your game. Hellebore is not one to send idle correspondence.”

  Tem held up the letter, and in better light, I saw it wasn’t actually silver. It was white, with the intangible glitter of freshly fallen snow. Gregor reached for it, and Tem’s hand darted away. “With apologies, I was ordered to deliver this to the couple. My fingers won’t release it to anyone else.”

  In spite of Krystal’s anger, I wondered how happy Tem was about the situation. His sister had just vanished, and I was beginning to have a solid hunch as to where; plus, it sure sounded like he was being forced to play a role whether he liked it or not. Since Krystal was still processing her best friend’s disappearance, I stepped forward. Gregor started to block me, but I halted his movements.

  “September Windbrook is an agent. He’s not going to kill me in plain view of another agent and several witnesses.” I looked from Gregor to Krystal, then over at Al, who’d popped down to her tiny form at some point and appeared to be hiding behind the book she’d been reading. That was odd. Maybe she didn’t want anyone else from the fey realm to see her? It was a curiosity that could wait until we had less pressing matters. For the moment, I moved Gregor aside and accepted the letter.

  No sooner had my fingers touched it than a jolt went through me, and Tem appeared to relax, if momentarily. Whatever grip he’d been in had clearly lessened now that the task was completed. Wordlessly, he turned and started to walk off.

  I couldn’t follow—outside the shade of the porch waited the midday sun, ready to roast any vampire that wandered into its path. Instead, I merely called out, hoping for a response I knew I wouldn’t get.

  “Is there anything you can tell us? Any advice?”

  “Not allowed.” Tem called the words over his shoulder, feet compelling him forward. It appeared he wasn’t entirely free just yet. “But be careful. I’ve only seen Hellebore like this a few times. It almost never ends well.”

  Then he was gone. Out in the sun, his pace picked up, turning into a sprint. He vanished not long after clearing the parking lot. Since there was little point in leaving myself exposed to the world, I shut the door and held up the letter.

  “Guess we should see what this is about?”

  2.

  “To the esteemed Agent Krystal Jenkins and Fredrick Fletcher, founder of the House of Fred, I must send my dearest apologies for the inconvenience. Unfortunately, a problem has arisen in our lands, and June Windbrook was deemed best suited to dealing with the threat. As you no doubt are aware, while half-fey may serve as agents, they are forever connected to their true homelands and the duties carried with such a heritage. While it is my right to recall any of those under my authority, I am not a being without compassion. Should you wish June returned as soon as possible, this letter will allow only those named within passage to our realm. She must stay only until the task is completed; whether you wish to speed things along is up to your discretion.”

  I lowered the page, fearful of what look would be waiting on Krystal’s face. “The only other thing is the signature. She signed it, ‘Hellebore, Seer of Winter,’ which doesn’t mean much to me.”

  Krystal was, to my surprise and worry, both silent and seated. The look in her eyes was anything but, however. I watched her forcefully control her rage, shaping it into something useful. It wasn’t often I got to see Krystal’s agent side in action; I had a nagging hunch that this day would be an exception.

  Thankfully, Al was still around, and back to human-size. I hadn’t pressed on why she shrank down; there were far too many more immediate issues to tackle, and besides, she was entitled to her privacy. I was just appreciative for the information she did choose to share.

  “Seer of Winter is her title. The fey lands don’t have weather in the traditional sense, but we do have it. The seasons, the lands, it all exists in a shifting spectrum. There are fey from lands you’d more traditionally think of as having spring and summer climates, but the fey would just say those are the static conditions of specific lands. Same for fall and winter. If you go far enough into their lands, you can find their major cities and kingdoms, which is where the great royalty dwell: King of Summer, Lord of the Fall, Empress of the Winter, Guide of Spring.”

  Even with the tremendous amount I’d just been forced to absorb, I did manage to pick a few key points out of there. “So, she’s associated with the Empress of the Winter, which we probably could have guessed from her running the Court of Frost, but she’s not at the top. Also, Guide of Spring seems the odd man out in that title scheme.”

  Al shrugged, and behind her, I saw a cup of coffee change in hue as its contents appeared to gain cream and sugar. “He’s what the mortal kids today would call ‘chill.’ You’re also correct: Hellebore is not at the top of winter hierarchy, but it makes little difference. She is one of the Empress’s Hands, empowered to act on behalf of her ruler in most matters, and second in power only to the true royals, who use cats’ paws largely because, when they fight, entire regions of the fey lands are destroyed.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Krystal had finished her long sit and risen from the chair. We’d gathered in the living room to hear what the note had to say, and while Gregor was sitting calmly, Al was pacing. Both made a stark contrast to Krystal, who moved slowly and deliberately, like every step had the potential to start, or end, a fight. “I’m getting her back. Fred, you wait here. This won’t take long.”

  “Um, hi. So, we haven’t really gotten a chance to know each other, and I realize that this is not the kind of situation where you want a stranger correcting you—”

  “Spit it out,” Krystal snapped. She took a moment, forcing her eyes closed and drawing in some deep breaths. “Sorry, Al. Just… on edge. But if you have something I need to know, tell me. Always better to know.”

  Though still appearing nervous—Tem’s visit had really knocked her off-kilter—Al quickly found her words. “You can’t leave Fred. She names you both in the opening, and then specifically mentions that only those named in the letter get passage. Read the top: she didn’t say Krystal or Fred, she addressed it to Krystal and Fred. Whatever magic she wove, it works for both of you, or neither. Specifics are vitally important in formal fey matters.”

  “I’ll go.” It didn’t seem prudent to waste time bickering about on whether or not it was smart to take me along. This whole ordeal was hitting Krystal hard, and with every blow, it became more and more clear that was the intent. They’d stolen her best friend, sent her ex-fiancé to deliver the news, and now had saddled her with a non-agent tagalong to slow her down. Much as I might have liked to stay, we weren’t leaving June in the middle of whatever pretense they’d found to steal her away.

  “Fuck…” I could hear the “that” forming on Krystal’s lips, yet refusing to fall. She couldn’t kick back on the idea entirely without giving up on helping June. What had been raw fury before was now tempered by turmoil. She didn’t want to risk my safety to retrieve June, and was no doubt also aware of how very trap-like this all felt. “Fuck… just fuck.”

  Much as I wracked my brain, I couldn’t think of an easy fix. Arch might have had something, but he was off somewhere with Neil and Albert doing other things. Amy and Bubba were at Richard’s, not that neither of them had ever indicated they possessed much knowledge about fey. Gideon could be around, but getting in to see the King of the West was no small feat, and I’d never actually heard him speak on the fey. I didn’t even know what relationship dragons and fey had. The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how little on the topic I really knew.

  Gregor pulled himself solidly from his chair. “I will keep Fred safe.”

  “You’re really not getting the detail-specific magic, are you?” Al poked. “Best guess, the ‘passage’ she mentioned will take both of them to somewhere specific. Even if I grabbed you and went through the nearest pathway between lands, there’s no guarantee we’d b
e anywhere near Fred and Krystal. Not that it matters, because if Hellebore wants them alone, we’ll never get within ten miles of their location. The roads would betray us.”

  It was a sound argument, or at least as logical as one can hope for when magic is the topic at hand, yet it was one that still drew a rare expression of frustration to Gregor’s brow. “When the King of the West, in his great wisdom, told me you would be difficult to guard, I did not yet understand his guidance. You have a habit of making yourself hard to protect.”

  “Welcome to my life,” Krystal muttered. “Freddy, I can’t take you along on this.”

  “You aren’t taking me. I volunteered.”

  That earned me a look that was half-anger, half-appreciation. “That doesn’t change anything. You’re not trained for this. Depending on what she’s setting up, I might not even be trained for this. But seeing as one of us has a sealed devil that offers tremendous power, healing, and durability, that’s the one who is charging blindly into the Stronghold of Winter.”

  I nodded. “Yes, you are, and I’m fully aware that nothing I say can stop you. Just as you need to be aware that I’m coming along. Not because I intend to get in the way; I’m going along solely to get you there. I’m not some macho idiot who will try to prove himself in a fight. We go, I stay low, we find June, and you remind them why nobody out there messes with Agent Krystal Goddamn Jenkins.”

  Despite the heavy mood that had fallen over the room, Krystal let out a snort of a chuckle. “Whoa, not every day you go busting out the big-boy curse words.”

  “It’s not every day someone manages to actually hurt the woman I love.” The words were bolder than my usual fair, but Krystal wasn’t the only one feeling a bit stirred up. Someone had reached into Charlotte Manor, the home for most of us, and snatched away our friend. The very idea of it made me scared, which in turn lit a small flame of anger—a flame that burned hotter every time I saw the pain and frustration in Krystal’s eyes.