I bristled again. “Bull, but even if it wasn’t, how’s that my fault?”
“How many rebirths does your nest hold?” Vitae asked.
Anima must’ve got ahold of him.
I checked my fingernails clean. “One?”
His lips pressed together as he massaged the bridge of his nose.
“I’ve been busy,” I said.
For a moment, power flashed behind the stoic phoenix’s eyes. He turned his back to the tableau, hiding his reaction and lectured in lofty tones. “Copulating with mortals does not excuse you from fulfilling your duties Aquaylae. They may have free will to choose carnality over propriety, but you are not one of them. You need to fulfill your purpose, not emulate their laziness or perversities.”
“I’m not lazy and I don’t spend all my time in bed with Dylan.”
“Whatever you are doing that is interfering with your duty must stop immediately. Do we understand each other?”
I understand you, but I doubt you’ve bothered to understand me.
“Do we?”
“I understand, Vitae, I’m not a hatchling, but I deserve time for the things that are important to me too.”
Vitae whirled, his expression darkened despite his glowing eyes. “No, Aquaylae, you serve the Light. Your life is not your own. You were created to serve. That is all there is. I think it would be best if you—”
A cleared throat turned us around. A very tall, blond man looked down his hawkish nose at us, dressed much the same as Vitae save his centuries-newer, golden-white suit.
I couldn’t help an involuntary gulp.
Vitae bowed slightly.
Our Praefectus gestured to where the young officer I’d ogled pointed the well-dressed detective our direction. “This discussion must cease.”
“You have our deepest apologies, Vilicangelus. I’ll address—”
“I will address it, Vitae, at your evening briefing. For now, you and I shall fade while Aquaylae deals with the approaching shield.”
“She’s one of us?” I asked.
“She is a mortal shield, but a servant of justice nonetheless.” He placed a hand on Vitae, dragging him a step backward as they both faded into transparency.
Their unexpected vanishing act took my breath away.
How?
“Excuse me, miss,” the detective said. “I’m Detective Sabrina Foxner. I need a moment of your time.”
4: Too Much History
Vitae
Vilicangelus and I watched Aquaylae’s interrogation, a layer of Light separating us from the real world much as the Veil kept Creation and Faery apart.
Aquaylae’s stance remained defiant, and her answers practically begged the detective to mark her as a suspect.
It’s almost as if she wants the attention.
I gestured toward Aquaylae’s behavior. “She needs to be transferred somewhere lower profile, especially in light of this incident.”
“I see no reason to relocate her. The Isaac will see to the surveillance.”
“This is Headingham all over again. It’s almost as if she’s addicted to mortal attention.”
Vilicangelus raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps she does crave attention. Even so, I think perhaps your memory is too long, my old friend. Dare I also suggest that your neck has not relaxed with age?”
While the Shield’s automata couldn’t offer offense, my old friend’s evolution to divine hadn’t robbed his memory. He knew where to stick the knife. He remembered too well my first days in his Shield, unsure and awkward in the presence of so many elders.
“Vitae, she’s been in this jurisdiction for over a century without a major incident. She’s doing her best. Forgive a little.”
“Her best.” I couldn’t help the snort. “All I see is an addictive penchant for exploring mortal nethers.”
“Neither Terrance nor Ignis have complained about her willingness to learn,” Vilicangelus said.
“She doesn’t learn. The Isaac said she transmogrified in view of live interweb cameras.”
“He’ll purged the webcam feeds.”
“That isn’t the point. He shouldn’t have had to purge the feeds. She should’ve arrived with others, taken out the cameras in advance, but she just doesn’t think things through.”
I straightened my suit, taking the moment to quench heat bubbling up in my soul. “Her insistence on handling this alone, her thoughtless transmogrifying in front of a broadcasting camera, it’s the same story over and again.” I turned my disapproving expression on Aquaylae and the human shield. “Do you enjoy chasing down mortal witnesses? Can you really afford her sloth instigating more murders? Another mass witch hunting?”
Vilicangelus’s expression soured. “Together or alone, the Isaac would have had to purge the feeds of grendlings and animals traversing an Arch. Using her true form in that situation, under such heavy assault, doesn’t seem thoughtless to me.”
“It only takes a single witness to bring about another inquisition or mass burnings. You know how corruptible mortals have become. Fear and superstition rampaging through the streets hunting witches is nothing compared to what could befall humanity if her carelessness transmogrifying revealed the faeries to mankind.”
“There are plenty of possible ramifications, but a mass burning—especially on the scale you suggest—seems unlikely. Yes, Aquaylae made a mistake coming alone. No, it wasn’t her first, but even so I’ve looked into her past, spoken to her former divine.”
“None of that matters, Aether! Mortals died—”
Light flared around the divine phoenix. “Mortals died because the Sidhe intervened. They took advantage of her mistake and turned her village’s superstition into a murdering frenzy before their divine could step in. As for your other concerns, the Isaac is Watching.”
I lowered my head. I hadn’t meant to call Vilicangelus by his former name. The mistake had been disrespectful, and it shamed me. “Forgive me, Divine One, but I still want her out of my Shield. She’s embarrassing—”
“Pride, Vitae?” Vilicangelus’s jaw tightened in an eerie echo of his former face. “Is that what this is about?”
It took an effort to meet my former brother’s hard eyes. “This is about my duty to ensure this Shield follows the strictures laid down to ensure the proper protection of His Creation against the hell-blighted Sidhe.”
“And toward that noble goal, I replaced your fallen Aqua.”
“Yes, we needed an Aqua, but not this one, Divine One. You shouldn’t have sent her here. This one should’ve been—”
Vilicangelus’s temper simmered just under the flaring waves of Light that washed over me like a tide. “Vitae, Phoenix of Life, why would you suggest I separate Aquaylae’s soul from her essence and send her on? Is not life about growth, new chances?”
The tide of our argument had turned against me, but I had to make Vilicangelus understand. Aquaylae needed to go. She acted more like Sidhe than a shield. She just wasn’t cut out to be a shield. “Yes, of course, but—”
“You needed a new Aqua or have you forgotten Mare’s True Death so soon?”
Screams and images lunged out of darkest memory, swarming my mind’s eye. Mare’s specter fell over my core, darkening the life spring tied to my soul and sending shivers through me.
I would never forget beloved Mare, never—no matter how often Aquaylae’s similarities made a mockery of Mare’s memory.
For a moment, whispered memory of long gone fingertips stroked the jewel embedded in my chest. Gooseflesh rippled outward, not a thousand little fearful bites but the tingle of anticipation from a long absent touch.
“Aquaylae made a mistake, Vitae. She’d never died before, and to be burned to death—she acted out of fear. Do you even remember the terror of your first death? The uncertainty?”
I licked my lips and closed off my face from all emotion. “I felt no such fear, Vilicangelus. I had faith.”
Vilicangelus snorted. “Faith? Or was it that you’d seen me die and be reborn severa
l times before you fell?”
I folded my arms. “Faith—though you did die an awful lot.”
Vilicangelus laid a hand on my shoulder. “Aquaylae’s response to that event has made her special, little brother. It gave her a passion for all Creation that so many of her elders have outgrown.”
I gestured at the gawking crowds. “That passion got us into today’s situation, Divine One.”
The Praefectus’s smile grew indulgent. “Vitae, Quayla’s heart remains like a hatchling just quickened—if not even more so. Such passion is as rare as any True Birth.”
I opened my mouth to correct his use of her nickname, but stopped. I set my shoulders. “I am sorry, but you are wrong, Vilicangelus. She needs to learn duty. She needs to learn to obey—”
“You?” Vilicangelus asked.
“Him, His Divine, the tenants of Aquaylae’s creation and caution in the public eye.”
“She’s still young and headstrong. She needs to prove herself to you—the only authority figure in her Shield who treats her as unworthy of personal attention or training.”
“My library is stocked with all the knowledge she needs. If she invested herself in the books as much as she invests herself in spreading her...passions—” I shook my head. “Some hawks never take to the hood no matter how skilled their handler.”
“She remains in this Shield, Vitae, but while we’re discussing your library, the Beijing Shield has agreed to an exchange if you are willing to pen the copies.”
“What did they wish in return?”
“A copy of your Shieldheart’s Guide to Nests.”
“I’ll begin copying Nests once I’ve dealt with this, but it may take a few weeks to copy and return their volumes.”
“I’m sure that will be acceptable for books in your fine hand, but have you ever considered using print-on-demand technologies to speed the process?”
I snorted before I’d mastered myself, even so a hint of derision leaked into my voice. “Not even lifting voice to the possible ways doing such might leak information to the mortals, glued wood pulp would never prove itself against the passage of time.”
“Plus, you love hand illuminating and binding the books.”
A self-conscious smile escaped my mask of propriety for only a moment. “The scent of leather and vellum are satisfying.”
Vilicangelus chuckled.
“I’ve already contacted the Isaac. He will update Aquaylae’s driving license and other public records as well as purge her social media of all former pictures.
“Efficient as always, Vitae.”
“Thank you, but I failed to act quickly enough in regard to the vehicle she left parked in front of the building.”
“I dispatched Summus—”
“Summus?” I asked.
“Summuseraphi, your new Praefectus.”
Creation seemed to drop away like a mortal rollercoaster. I did not wish a new Praefectus. Even if he no longer had time for the occasional game of chess, I was loath to relinquish a voice of wisdom—even if sometimes incorrect—from my earliest days. I opened my mouth, but Vilicangelus spoke first. “We will handle introductions this evening. Suffice to say he relocated Aquaylae’s vehicle prior to the arrival of the local authorities.”
A throb behind my eyes coaxed my brow to furrow and lips to turn downward. “If you aren’t concerned by her actions, why were you watching her?”
“We’re always watching.” Vilicangelus smiled as Light stole him away.
Without the Praefectus’s veil, I faded back into the reality Aquaylae had turned into a hornet’s nest. Nearby, the detective’s dubious expression resembled a hunting dog. Aquaylae wouldn’t be able to break away soon enough to clean up the bodies in the morgue. She’d be too late to prevent medical examination, and in any case her entrance into a monitored government facility while the mortal shield scented Aquaylae for guilt risked exposure.
Maybe I should let her go anyway. Such exposure might help me convince the new Praefectus, it might force his hand and we could replace her with a dutiful Aqua.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
I don’t get out often enough as is, and I won’t conveniently forget my duty just because it becomes onerous. Thus, I shall don a forgiving countenance and once more, clean up after the less dutiful of my Shield. We are not individual. We are a Shield of the Light, created to serve.
I took a final look at Aquaylae before retreating to await her.
We five are one, strengthening each other’s weaknesses for no one of us is strong enough to Shield this shire alone. Thus is it so, and thus shall it ever be.
5: Acting Normal
Quayla
I endured Detective Foxner’s questions, trying not to show the growing itch of impatience. I needed to get to the city morgue. Cleaning up the corpses inside the humane society hadn’t been an option while I was returning, but I wasn’t going to leave the task of clean up at the morgue to anyone else in the Shield.
It’s my mess, I’ll clean it up.
Foxner treated me exactly the same as I might’ve treated a faerie suspect. I wasn’t fond of being on the receiving end. It’d been a hard morning—not that I could fault the detective for rattling her suspect. I wasn’t about to risk lives to get my coffee fix, but some tea or hot chocolate sounded like a great way to calm my nerves.
My drifting attention pressed Foxner’s rosebud mouth into a hard line. Her eyes flashed and color tinged her clenched jaw. A trained expression almost covered her feelings, but what slipped through proclaimed that the mortal shield distrusted every word that escaped my lips.
I wasn’t lying to her—not exactly. I wasn’t her perpetrator. Her so-called thief had died, leaving a puddle rather than a corpse. It wasn’t my fault she was convinced I was lying through my new teeth.
“All right, Miss Buckler, I’m going to need your home address,” Foxner said.
An itch assaulted my nose and my eyes tightened. My nature allows me not to cry just like I don’t have to sweat, but inwardly I did as I rattled off my address. The Isaac had probably purged my memories with Dylan from the internet the moment I died, but it fell to me to clean our apartments. I’d have to destroy all the evidence linking me to my former life, every special moment Dylan and I had shared over our relationship.
Maybe I should pick up chocolate croissants from the DeKalb Farmers Market on the way to the shop.
“I’m sorry, I expected you to give me your address by way of your ID.”
“You didn’t ask for my ID.”
“May I have your ID?” Foxner asked.
“I don’t have any on me.”
Foxner scrutinized me once more, looking me up and down.
I spun slowly, lifting the smock only while my back was turned to the detective. “No wallet, see.”
“What about a purse?”
“Don’t carry anything when I jog.”
“You’re jogging in that?”
“Laundry day,” I said.
Foxner made no attempt to hide her disbelief. “I see. Do you remember your driver’s license number?”
“Sorry. Can I go?” I asked. “I’m going to be late for work.”
“Fine, just give me a phone number.”
“Don’t have one anymore,” I said.
Foxner scrutinized me once more. “Everyone has a phone.”
“Then I must be lying.” I offered her my sweetest smile. “Where do you think I’m hiding one?”
“Bra?”
“Not wearing one, besides, it would get all sweaty.” I grabbed the hem of my smock. “I can prove I’m both braless and phoneless if you promise not to cite me for public indecency.”
Foxner leaned closer. “I don’t appreciate your attitude, Miss Buckler. Someone broke in, ransacked the place, got their jollies assaulting animals and stole a bunch more. My gut tells me Officer Quarles is right, you’re involved somehow.”
I closed the distance, temper rising like a raging river. “What
’s that supposed to mean?”
Foxner gestured at my clothes. “You’re all dressed up like some liberal hippy flower child, the exact opposite type to our perpetrator. Maybe you are...innocent, just out here gawking in the heat because it’s somehow arousing.”
“But you don’t think so?”
Foxner held the printout up and lowered her tone. “I know you look a lot like our perp. I know someone attacked innocent animals with stink bombs and paint.” She stabbed the photo with a finger. “I know this woman is the kind of depraved, low-life degenerate who thinks they’re smarter than the cops, someone who thinks they can hang around a crime scene to watch the aftermath without getting caught.”
She’s goading me? Really?
The detective seemed bright, dedicated and very good at her job, but she was way out of her depth. I liked her moxie even if she was starting to piss me off.
Memories of dappled pools helped focus me enough that I could offer the detective enough cheerful delight to annoy her. “Of course animals are more important than people like you, detective, but really, what liberal hippy would hurt the poor, little furbabies imprisoned here?”
Foxner’s eyes hardened.
I gave the detective a cheery little wave before flouncing away out of pure vindictiveness. My cheer faded when I realized the police had impounded my baby. I had no way to work but the taint-stained MARTA trains and buses. I headed for the bus stop only to see Vitae leaning against his Mercedes.
No, thanks. I’ll take stinky people and public transit over another lecture.
Vitae’s expression darkened in answer to my own. He pointed. I followed the gesture and a little bubble of joy buoyed me up. My Jahammer and helmet had been moved under a shaded parking spot a half block away. I flashed Vitae a smile and mouthed my thanks.
Vitae cleared his throat, dangling my spare keys.
I crossed the distance and reached for them. “Thank y—”
“I will handle the morgue, Aquaylae. I can’t take a chance of you screwing up again.”
I opened my mouth to insist upon cleaning up after myself, but Vitae talked over me.
“We will discuss this later.”
Ashes of Raging Water Page 4
