My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor. Peasblossom let out a squeak of protest at the sudden drop, but I ignored her.
“Dubheasa,” I choked. “Queen of Air and Darkness? Ruler of the Unseelie?”
Scath nodded slowly.
Sweat broke out on my forehead, and I felt the remains of the strawberry I’d eaten bob in my stomach, threatening to come back up. “Why?” I managed hoarsely. “Why did she send him to my village? You said he can be helpful, but also hurtful. A blessing and a curse. So what is he?”
“A gift,” Scath said simply.
“Can we exchange him for something else?” Peasblossom asked hopefully.
The door to my apartment swung open. “Good morning.”
Flint’s voice was never a welcome sound, but this time, it was too much. I wasn’t in the mood, I didn’t have the mental fortitude to deal with him right now. I needed time, personal space to think about this new revelation. Time for a lie down, or a complete psychotic break. But I couldn’t tell him that. He’d demand to know why, and I certainly had no intention of letting him find answers before I did.
I forced myself to stand on trembling legs and whirled around to pin him with the darkest glare I could manage. There was no magic in it, but a small part of me hoped something would happen anyway. Spontaneous combustion, or at least a really bad rash in a sensitive place. Nothing hid fear as well as anger.
The leannan sidhe blinked at me, his hazel eyes widening before darting from me to Andy to Scath to Majesty, and back. “I’m interrupting something.”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to look back at Scath to know she’d returned to her beast form. She always did when Flint showed up. We would continue our discussion later. I just hoped this talkative mood wasn’t a one-time occurrence. “What do you want?”
“I have a job for you.” He glanced at Andy again, then added, “Only you.”
“Let me guess.” I stormed over to the counter and snatched up the can of Coke Andy had offered me earlier. “You want me to go to the Rocky River reservation and talk to a hamadryad. Or maybe you want me to count the deer, make sure they’re not being over-hunted? Perhaps you’d like me to take a soil sample to test the Ph levels?”
Flint crossed his arms, the soft black dress shirt he wore managing to accent the muscles of his shoulders and biceps without straining. Expensive tailoring at its finest. “You sound like you think I’ve been wasting your time.”
I clenched my teeth. Ever since my last case, Flint had sent me onto the Rocky River reservation for a variety of small, laughable tasks. He wanted me to talk to a pixie about a leak in her roof. He wanted me to prune the dead limbs off a sugar maple. He wanted me to check that a certain Douglas fir hadn’t lost too many pine cones. And all the while, he smiled.
He smiled because it was all intended to put me on the reservation, spread my scent around, as it were, because that’s where Liam Osbourne, alpha of the Rocky River pack, worked as the detective sergeant of the Cleveland Metropark Rangers. Flint knew damn well Liam was on a self-imposed Shade-hiatus until we were both out from under the leannan sidhe’s influence, and Flint intended to test the shifter’s control as much as possible.
And in the process, he was testing my temper. Which had grown steadily thinner with each passing day of Liam’s Shade-hiatus. And Scath’s nightmares and general refusal to give up any helpful information. And Andy’s general bad mood.
“Just tell me what you want and get out.” I took a long gulp of the Coke to stop myself from adding anything more.
Flint sauntered farther into the room, close enough that he could look over the couch to see Majesty and Scath. He was curled up around Scath’s thick black tail, biting it with his sharp kitten teeth. Flint watched the kitten for a few moments, studying Scath’s reaction—or lack thereof—to Majesty’s teething.
“There’s been a theft,” Flint said finally. He folded himself onto one of the barstools he’d purchased last week and dropped a file I hadn’t noticed he’d been carrying onto the kitchen island’s surface. “A gentleman was in possession of a bowl, one part of a three piece ceremonial set. I believe whoever took it will be after the rest of the set. I want you to find the thief.”
“Ceremonial set?” I repeated. “What sort of ceremony are they used for?”
“It doesn’t matter. Most people today won’t know how it works. But I do want you to look into the other pieces that belong to the set. Keep an eye on them. In addition to the bowl, there is a cup and a knife.” He gestured at the file. “Details are in the file.”
The groan of aluminum warned me I was crushing my can of Coke. Flint was withholding information—again—and I just didn’t have the patience for it today. I put the Coke down and tugged at the hem of my long-sleeved black cotton shirt before settling my waist pouch more securely around my hips. “I can’t determine motive if I don’t know what the set does. You’re the boss, of course, so if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll work without that vital information. But if I fail to find your precious artifacts, I don’t want to hear any whining.”
Flint’s sleek dark eyebrows twitched toward the ceiling. “I do not whine.”
“Do you want to find a suitable synonym, or do you want to give me the information I need to stop these thefts?” My hand itched to retrieve the Coke.
“I don’t want you to stop the thefts. Let the thief take them. Let the thief use them. After the ritual is complete, steal the items back.”
I stared at him, confusion temporarily halting my rise in temper. “You want me to let the thief steal them, let them use them, then bring the artifacts to you afterward?”
Flint raised a finger. “Not to me. After the thief has completed the ceremony, I want you to return the items to the owners who were left in possession of them before the thief stole them.”
“What does the ritual do?” Andy asked, echoing my earlier question.
I could tell from his tone that he’d had the same thought I did. Was Flint working with the thief? Allowing them to use the items, then making sure said items were returned to the rightful owners—through me—in some attempt to save the thief from retribution?
“Agent Bradford, Shade will not require your assistance for this case.” Flint met my eyes. “And I’ve already told you, that information is unnecessary for you to perform the task I’ve assigned you. Find out who stole the first artifact. Watch the remaining artifacts. When the third one is stolen, go to the thief. You’ll know when the ritual is finished. When it is, steal the items back and return them to their stewards.”
“And as I’ve already told you,” I said slowly, infusing every word with as much mockery as I could muster. “If you won’t tell me what the ritual is for, it will be very difficult to determine motive. Determining motive is key to uncovering the identity of a thief.”
The lines around the corners of Flint’s mouth deepened. He studied me for a long minute before sighing. “Look for someone who has little—” he looked at Andy— “or no power. Someone who’s unhappy with their vulnerability or lack of status. They will benefit from the items in question.”
“You think I’m powerless?” Andy asked, his tone suddenly too soft, almost taunting. “I think there’s a kelpie who might disagree with you. Or he would if he wasn’t dead.”
My jaw dropped. Peasblossom froze in her spot on my shoulder, and I knew the look of shock on my face would be mirrored in her tiny pink expression. In all the time I’d known Andy, I had never known him to rise to bait like that. He was cool and composed, always in control. He knew better. It was why I’d agreed to work with him, why I’d thought he stood a chance against the Otherworld’s criminals.
Shock rose to panic as Andy strode across the room to stand directly in front of Flint. That wasn’t just hot-headed—it was dangerous. Andy’s only advantage was his gun, an advantage that meant nothing now that he was too close to draw it before Flint reached him. The leannan sidhe watched Andy
approach, his face blank of any expression. His posture remained loose and careless, but it didn’t fool me. I knew how fast he was. How deadly.
Slowly, Andy withdrew his notepad and pen from his pocket. “Why don’t you tell us if there’s anyone you already suspect may have committed the theft? You do have someone in mind, don’t you?”
Flint arched one eyebrow, obviously noticing the same change in Andy that was making my eyes bulge out of their sockets. “As I said, Agent Bradford. Andrew. This case is for Shade. She won’t be needing your—”
Andy’s fist sailed through the air, passing an inch from where Flint’s face had been seconds before. The leannan sidhe slid out of his seat ahead of the blow, moving with preternatural speed that put him behind Andy before the FBI agent completed his swing.
My hands were up, magic snapping against my palms, my lips already moving in a stabilization spell. I couldn’t attack Flint, not while I was under contract. But I wouldn’t let him kill Andy either.
Flint’s hands closed on Andy’s shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there in a mockery of a massage, his body folding against Andy’s with the liquid sensuality that was his nature.
The breath in my lungs turned sharp as shards of glass, and I waited to see what Flint would do. Crush Andy’s bones under his grip? Or worse? Flint had the ability to manipulate desire. It wouldn’t take much for him to overpower Andy’s mind, melt his defenses and bend him to his will. If there was one thing the leannan sidhe knew, it was that there were punishments so much worse than physical pain…
Suddenly Flint dropped his hands and retreated a step or two. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” he murmured. He glanced at me. “I assume the shield is yours. But the walls…” He returned his gaze to Andy, staring at him as if he weren’t really seeing him. Or, rather, as if he were seeing inside him.
The way Flint stared at Andy made me think he had reached out with his power to influence my partner, and found something he wasn’t expecting. I’d seen Andy on the astral plane, and I’d caught a glimpse of his psychic shields. They were primitive, probably a result of the trauma that had put the scars on his back and upper arms. Leannan sidhe read emotions like no one else, and if Flint wanted to force his way past them, I had no doubt he could. But I didn’t like that he’d felt them at all. And I was surprised at the mention of magic shields. I hadn’t done anything to Andy.
Andy turned, his jaw so tight my own teeth ached in sympathy. His fists were clenched, ready to try another swing. He was outmatched, but he was acting like he didn’t know it.
“On second thought,” Flint said slowly. “Perhaps it would be helpful for Shade to have an upstanding officer of the law like yourself at her side. It might expedite things.” He looked at me, inclining his head to the file on the island. “The information you need is in there. I’ll expect an update later today.”
He took a few steps toward the door, then stopped, turning his attention to Andy, giving him one last look before leaving the apartment. The leannan sidhe’s hazel eyes were just a little more gold than they should have been, and it sent a chill down my spine. After the door closed, my mouth moved, but no sound would come out.
“Typical bully,” Andy muttered. “Stand up to them, and they fold like cheap card tables.”
I sputtered and lurched forward, half-falling into Andy’s personal space. It took me three tries to get any words out.
“Folded? Folded? Is that what you think just happened?” My voice rose an octave, and I fought to keep from sounding like a chipmunk as I collected my scattered thoughts. “What is wrong with you? What in the name of blood and bone were you thinking, taking a swing at him like that?” I pointed at his hand. “You’d have broken your hand before you bruised him, you know that, right? You’re aware that Flint could flip a car if the mood struck him?”
“Winning the fight isn’t as important as making it clear that you’re not afraid to fight,” Andy said calmly. “He needs to know I won’t just sit here and take it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Something small, and smooth, and green. “Besides, I still have this.”
Suddenly the magic shield Flint had mentioned made sense. The stone Andy was holding in his hand was something I’d given him shortly after our first meeting. I closed my eyes, giving myself a mental kick for forgetting about it. “Andy, that stone won’t protect you if Flint decides he really wants to get in your head. It’s more like wearing a bullet-proof vest. Yes, if you’re shot in the chest with normal bullets, you’ll be fine, but you can still be shot in the head. And there are still bullets that can pierce it, if your opponent knows you’re wearing the vest and prepares for that.”
Andy slipped the stone back into his pocket. “Seems like it worked just fine.”
I craned my neck to stare at Peasblossom. The pixie’s eyes were wider than usual, and her wings twitched behind her, the injured limbs fighting to lift her, to burn off some of the panic I could see in her little face. The left one fluttered weakly, but the right barely twitched.
“Why are you so upset?” he demanded. “He backed down, didn’t he?”
“Backed down?” Peasblossom squeaked.
I jabbed a finger into Andy’s chest. “He did not ‘back down.’ He did not ‘fold like a cheap card table.’ You had a temper tantrum, Andy. A temper tantrum that is so uncharacteristic, so unexpected, that you surprised him.” I shook my head. “If Kylie hadn’t tested you along with everyone else last month after everything at New Moon, I’d think you had a testosterone-pumping parasite of your own.”
Andy wrinkled his nose at the mention of the parasite, but brushed it aside just as quickly. “You say surprised like it means something different than I think it does,” he said.
He sounded annoyed. Not scared, or reticent. Irritated. Like I was overreacting.
“The worst thing you can be to a sidhe like that is interesting,” I said. “Up until now, you’ve been an amusing inconvenience at worst. But now, you’ve piqued his interest.” I shoved a hand through my hair. “He’s going to study you now. He’s going to want to know why you snapped. He’ll dig into your life. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you have any idea what that means?”
There. Something flickered through Andy’s gaze, some shadow of doubt.
I nodded. “You get it now. There’s something going on with you, something you won’t talk to me about. You’ve been more and more on edge, less and less like yourself.” I grabbed his hand, willing him to look me in the eye. “You have to tell me what’s going on. Because whatever it is, Flint is going to find out soon. You don’t want him to know before I do.”
He jerked his hand out of my grasp. “Do you think I’m powerless?”
I took a deep breath through my nose, then let it out. “I have never thought of you as powerless. I just—”
“Then trust me to handle my own business. And I’ll trust you not to use magical force to make me talk to you before I’m ready.”
I flinched. Once I’d used magic on him. Just once. I’d dazed him to make him stay behind while I confronted someone. “I told you I wouldn’t do that again.”
Peasblossom made a harrumphing sound, holding onto a lock of my hair so she could lean closer to Andy without falling off her perch. “You’re not powerless, but up to now your biggest strength was the fact that you never let the bad guys get to you. Sidhe like to toy with people above all else, and you just weren’t fun for them. But if you start losing control, you’ll lose your edge.”
“My biggest strength was never my willingness to take their abuse,” Andy corrected her coldly. “It was making sure they understood there was a line that I wouldn’t let them cross—and shooting them when they crossed it.”
He grabbed the file off the counter and flipped it open, scanning its contents. I stared at him, knowing my mouth was hanging open again.
Andy snorted and shook his head, his eyes sliding back and forth as he continued reading the file.
“What?” I asked.
“Your master buried the lead.” He held up the file. “The gentleman who owned the ceremonial bowl that was stolen? He was murdered.”
Chapter 2
“I’m not even going to ask how he got a copy of the police report,” Andy muttered.
I stared at the orange construction cones that lined both sides of the street ahead of us. At least they were constant. Reliable. Construction cones didn’t just disappear. Not like Andy’s good sense apparently had.
Cool and collected. That was his MO. His leading characteristic.
And it was gone.
“Are you listening?”
I didn’t look at him. “If Flint had killed you, the Vanguard would have ruled it justified since you swung first. Even though you missed. And of course you missed, because you’re human, and he’s not.”
Andy’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Have you read any of that file yet?”
“He’s not going to talk about it,” Peasblossom said, sprawling out on her stomach on my left shoulder. “Not now when he has a case to concentrate on. Might as well wait till it’s over.”
She was right, but I didn’t have to like it. I counted ten more construction cones to center myself before speaking. “I’ve read the report. It says they originally thought Mr. Masters’ death was an accident. Best they could tell, he fell and hit his head on the table. Nothing was missing, and he had no injuries other than the blow to his head. But then a few days ago, his niece called to tell them there was something missing.”
“The bowl,” Andy guessed.
“Right. Unfortunately, by the time they had that information, the body had already been cremated, per Mr. Masters’ dying wishes, and they’d released the crime scene.” I tapped the woefully thin case file.
“They talked to the neighbors and someone reported that they might have seen a UPS guy at Mr. Masters’ house,” Peasblossom added, reading over my shoulder. “That could have been the thief.”
“So maybe he tried to get Mr. Masters to let him inside, the old guy wasn’t having it, and the thief forced his way in and knocked him down,” Andy continued. “He hit his head, the thief took the bowl and left.”
Betrayal Page 2
