Betrayal

by Jennifer Blackstream

  “You can’t tell me you don’t rely on instinct sometimes.” I snatched up my seatbelt and fumbled to find the other end to fasten it.

  “A gut feeling is fine for a starting point, but it’s not enough to make decisions on,” Andy said quietly. “If it was, then you and I wouldn’t be working together.”

  That hurt. I hadn’t known Andy had a bad feeling about me. He’d been disturbed, yes, but most humans were when they first found out about the Otherworld. Andy had handled it better than most. Then again, considering how that case had ended…

  I fastened my seatbelt and folded my hands in my lap, staring at my fingers as Andy pulled into traffic. Neither of us said anything for a few blocks, then Andy’s phone beeped. “That’ll be Morgan’s email with the fingerprint records.”

  He paused at a stoplight and pulled his phone out. “I’m forwarding the results to you. We can split up. You can look for the wizard, and I’ll call Devanos and arrange to speak with that group again.”

  I stared at him like he’d lost his mind, but he didn’t notice my expression until we’d started moving again.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Split up?” I echoed.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, split up. It’s how more work gets done. Look, all we need are fingerprints, it’s not something that requires both of us.”

  I closed my eyes, then forced them open, trying to be reasonable. “We already know Jim touched it, there’s no reason to fingerprint him.”

  “We need his prints for elimination,” Andy said calmly.

  “Then we can go together,” I argued.

  “There’s no reason for us to both go,” Andy reiterated, exasperated.

  “You can’t go to see a house full of fey by yourself,” I said incredulously. “Andy, even if they agreed to let you take their fingerprints, they all have glamour. It would be nothing for them to glamour up one of their servants and send them out to be fingerprinted in their place.”

  Andy jerked the wheel, sending the SUV careening into the parking lot of a large gas station. My heart leapt into my throat, choking off whatever I might have said as he ripped his door open and got out before slamming it behind him.

  “What was that about?” Peasblossom demanded.

  I shook my head, speechless. Heart pounding, I stared out the windshield as Andy made a phone call. He looked pissed. “I have no idea.”

  The call didn’t last long, maybe thirty seconds. Finally, he shoved his cell phone back into his pocket and got back in the SUV, still seething. I waited for him to say something, but he was silent as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Who did you call?” I asked finally, more than a little irritated with the silent treatment.

  “Liam.”

  My heart stopped. This time, it was a combination of anger and shock that kept me silent. I’d never told Andy about the conversation I’d had with Liam after our last case. About why it was better if we didn’t interact with one another while we were both under contract, as it were. And I hadn’t told him about Flint’s impression of Liam’s attraction to me, his smug satisfaction that the two of us wouldn’t stay apart for long.

  But Andy had been in my apartment this morning when I’d given Flint attitude, when I’d straight out accused him of dangling me in front of Liam’s nose like some sort of werewolf squeak toy.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” I said quietly.

  “Why?” Andy demanded. “That’s who you need, isn’t it? An Otherworld cop? Because I’m too human to be of any help? I can’t even be trusted to fingerprint a handful of suspects?”

  “Where is this coming from?” I asked, genuinely bewildered. “Andy, you and I started working together because I told you some cases need someone Other, that you needed someone Other to help with the non-human aspects. Why are you getting so upset when I point that out now?” I almost added that I’d agreed to help with his cases, tell him if something supernatural was going on. Almost pointed out this was my case, and no one had invited him.

  He wouldn’t look at me, just kept glaring at the road. “I think you’d prefer it if I weren’t human.”

  “That is not true,” I said sharply.

  Andy shook his head. “Tell me I wouldn’t be more helpful to you if I was Other. Tell me you wouldn’t stop looking at me as such a liability.”

  “The only thing making you a liability right now is your temper.” I forced myself to stop and take a deep breath, trying to keep from saying something I’d regret. “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” I said calmly. “But I do value your input. The entire reason I wanted this partnership is because I thought we both had something to teach each other. I can teach you about the Otherworld, and you can teach me about investigating.”

  “Seems like you already feel you know everything,” he muttered. “What with your ‘gut’ and all.”

  I swallowed the hot retort that roared to the tip of my tongue. “Maybe you’re right. And if so, then that’s just a prime example of why I need you. The old you.” I tried to keep my voice gentle, but this needed to be said. Had needed to be said for some time. “Andy, when I met you, the first thing I noticed and respected about you was your self-control. You analyzed everything, made calm, rational decisions, even when anyone else would have let themselves be pushed into taking a rash action.”

  “Like shooting the kelpie?”

  He was speeding now. The SUV lurched from lane to lane as Andy fought to keep driving like a madman despite an abundance of other drivers on the road. More than one of them laid on their horns as he zipped by.

  Suddenly, Andy ground to a halt at a red light. I could feel his anger rolling off him in suffocating waves, and he wouldn’t look at me. I jerked my car door open, unfastening my seatbelt with my free hand. I lurched out of the car, standing there with my door open.

  “I’m not getting back in the car until you get a grip,” I said, my knees shaking from the sudden adrenaline rush. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re going to get us killed.”

  Andy stared at me, and there was so much anger in his eyes, that it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. He leaned closer, and I held my breath.

  He grabbed my door handle and jerked it closed. Too late, I noticed the light had turned green, and the cars were moving again. Andy slammed on the gas and shot forward, darting around the car in front of him with inches to spare.

  A second later, he was gone.

  Chapter 9

  “What just happened?”

  Peasblossom’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away, even though she was sitting on my shoulder. Andy’s taillights lingered in my vision like angry red eyes. A voice in the back of my mind told me something didn’t look right. Something about the SUV.

  “Didn’t he used to have a government plate?” I asked dumbly.

  “He probably crashed it and had to get a new one, the way he’s driving,” Peasblossom said vehemently.

  “Scath is still in his backseat,” I said suddenly.

  “No, she isn’t.”

  I blinked, only a little surprised to find Scath standing on the sidewalk beside me. Majesty sat on her back, his little face peering at me, waiting for me to do something interesting. Scath’s green eyes met mine.

  “Right.” I nodded and tugged at the hem of my long-sleeved black shirt that was really too hot for August, despite the relatively cool seventy degree day. “We’ll need a cab, then.”

  “Where are we going?” Peasblossom asked warily. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course. I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be fine?” I ignored the hint of hysteria creeping into my voice. “Liam owes Flint a favor because of me, and because of that, he won’t see me, and Flint is getting his kicks bandying me about the forest under Liam’s nose—and now my partner, who was already on the fence about whether I can be trusted, is convinced I’m going to throw him over for Liam, and has called Liam to come help me in what will be an annoyance for Liam,
an amusement for Flint, and an embarrassment for me. I’m fine.”

  Peasblossom cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re fine.”

  I dug my cell phone out of the side pocket of my waist pouch and dialed Devanos’ number. He answered after the first ring.

  “Mother Renard. Is everything all right?”

  “There’s been another theft. I’m worried about Catherine, and I need to speak with both of you. And Alicia, if that’s possible.” I didn’t know for sure if his concern for his daughter was genuine or just part of the facade he put on for Andy, but if there was any chance it was real, I might as well use it to arrange a meeting.

  “Catherine and I are out right now,” Devanos said apologetically. “But we’ll be at the opera tonight, if you could meet us there?”

  I sighed. “Yes, I suppose so. What about Alicia?”

  “She will be at the opera as well,” Devanos said, his tone souring. “If you need to speak with her sooner, she mentioned an errand but said she’d be home by three-thirty.”

  I checked the time on my phone before putting it back to my ear. That gave me a half hour to kill. “All right, I’ll see you tonight then.”

  “Until tonight.”

  I got off the phone and put it away. Peasblossom was staring at me like I was the last leaf of fall, wavering in a stiff breeze. Part of me wanted to reassure her, tell her I really was fine, but I couldn’t force the words out. I was torn between cutting Andy out of my life completely until he got over whatever was eating at him, and chasing down his SUV like a mad witch from a fairy tale, magic at the ready to pin him down and drag the secrets out of him.

  I held up a hand to flag down a taxi. Two cabs passed me without stopping. Two empty cabs. “Why aren’t they stopping?”

  “It’s the animals,” Peasblossom guessed. “No one wants a mess in their cab.”

  I was not in the mood. Peasblossom squeaked as I jerked closer to the curb, hurling a hand out to the next cab to come down the street. Purple energy shot from my fingertips, striking the driver with just enough force to make him turn to face me. I locked my gaze with his.

  “Stop.”

  It wasn’t a spell exactly, so much as a little oomph in my request and a healthy dose of the witchy look. The driver wrinkled his nose when I opened the door to let Scath in first. Peasblossom tucked herself under my hair, but when she heard me give the driver the address, she hissed.

  Goosebumps flowed down my back from her little puff of air.

  “Nightcap?” Peasblossom snapped. “We’re going to Nightcap?”

  I retrieved my cell phone and put it to my ear so I could talk without making the driver nervous. “Hi, I’m on my way to the club. I need to meet with someone, and I might as well do it before we have to meet up with Andy later. Clubs really aren’t his style.”

  “I’ll say,” Peasblossom muttered. “And it’s not your style either.” She squirmed around on my shoulder, her bony knees and elbows jabbing at me as she tried to get comfortable. “I don’t like it. We don’t need to go to that place. Who cares what Morgan is up to? We’re not going to fall for it, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, I talked to Morgan earlier,” I said, still holding a pretend phone conversation. “She’s definitely interested in Andy.”

  “Andy’s being stupid, but he’s not that stupid,” Peasblossom remarked. “He’ll see through her soon enough.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.” I put my phone away again. A lump was forming in my throat, and I didn’t feel like talking past it anymore. The fact of the matter was, I didn’t know why Morgan bothered me so much. If I were honest, she hadn’t offered me any direct harm. But last spring she had seemed like she was goading Andy into fighting with the kelpies. And I wasn’t entirely sure that if she’d won the auction my life wouldn’t be worse than it was now. And I just…I just had a bad feeling about her. If I could get some answers at Nightcap, then I was going to Nightcap.

  Majesty curled up in my lap, pushing his head against my palm until I petted him. I looked down at his cute little face, eyes squeezed shut as he soaked in the attention. The Queen of the Unseelie Court. The Queen of Air and Darkness herself had done this to him. Maybe it was a coincidence he’d ended up with me, but I doubted it. I wondered if Nightcap would hold any answers about him as well?

  Nightcap had all the charm of an abandoned railway car. It wasn’t that the place was run down. Quite the contrary, the cement walls were chip free, the glass windows polished and gleaming in the sun, and the garbage dumpster was neatly tucked behind a freshly painted fence. The air around the building smelled clean, like a summer breeze over new grass.

  But then, the creatures who inhabited this particular club didn’t want people on their guard when they entered. And most of the humans who saw the sign out front just laughed, thinking it was a joke.

  “Come on in. You’re not our guest.”

  “Nice sign,” Peasblossom commented as we passed. “Just in case there was any doubt this place was trouble.”

  Andy wouldn’t have liked that sign. He’d understand that the owner of the club—whoever that was—wanted to be clear that whatever happened inside was not their fault.

  “First impressions are everything.” I glanced down at Scath. “Can you look scary enough to compensate for the kitten?”

  Scath’s body shivered. I don’t know how she did it, but somehow she managed to look like someone had ripped a hole in the universe, a deep tear where the sunlight couldn’t reach, and any beam that tried was immediately swallowed, adding to the darkness instead of chasing it away. She looked up at me and her green eyes stole my breath, swirling in constant movements of brackish green water. Her mouth opened slightly, and the teeth I glimpsed in her large maw were sharp and uneven. The stuff of nightmares.

  “That’ll work,” Peasblossom muttered.

  The inside of the bar was dark. Artificially lit like a strip club, or some other place that wanted you to lose track of what time of day it was. The carpet was blood red—literally. I tried to ignore the suspicion that they’d chosen the color specifically to hide old bloodstains, but one sniff was enough to tell me someone had bled here recently.

  Or maybe they spritzed it around like perfume.

  The booths were all smooth black leather, and each one had a privacy curtain. I sent out a few tendrils of magic, unsurprised when a flare of purple light winked back at me. Unease crawled down my spine on spindly legs. The curtains were spelled to hide noise, turning the booths into soundproof areas where no one outside would hear you talking.

  Or screaming.

  “First time here?”

  I jumped. I realized the mistake as soon as I did it, even before I turned to find the man watching me. He’d been sitting at the table right beside the door, a spot that let him see new arrivals upon entry without being seen by them. He had sandy blond hair, and he wore beat up denim jeans, a faded white T-shirt, and a varsity jacket that attempted to label him as twenty-two. One look at his genuine blue eyes, and I knew the jacket lied.

  By at least a century.

  He leaned closer, giving me a hint of his crisp aftershave, and letting his blue eyes sparkle in the muted light from the bar.

  “Sorry if I scared you. My name’s Harley.” He gestured with one thumb to the rest of the room. “This isn’t a safe place. Trust me, you don’t want to be here.”

  “Your warning is duly noted. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

  I turned, but he slid in front of me again, somehow managing to make the movement endearingly clumsy. He rubbed the back of his head in a way that suggested he’d be using words like “gosh” or “gee.”

  He tilted his head. “Usually when people like you come here, it’s because they need help. Or they’re looking for something. Or someone. What are you looking for?”

  He pushed me. Not physically. Mentally. A desire to open up to him, to trust him, welled up inside me. I knew deep down in my bones that this man could help me. Whateve
r I wanted, whatever I needed, he could provide it. All I had to do was ask.

  “I’ve had a rough day,” I said tiredly. “And you did startle me when I came in. My mind was elsewhere. Shame on me, I should have been more vigilant. But please don’t mistake that for vulnerability. I have business to attend to, and it does not involve you. So if you’ll excuse me…”

  He got in front of me again. This time, my temper flared. His smile spread, the corners of his mouth sliding upward. The push against me was stronger now, and I realized with some surprise that he’d really been holding back. The sensation of power flowing over my skin in wave after wave reminded me of a flower opening, petals unfurling in layers, building anticipation for the moment the bloom would reveal its full glory.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

  It would have worked, if not for Peasblossom. Harley was obviously operating under the strategy of control the woman, control her pet, so Scath wasn’t frightening him. He was that confident he could roll my mind, pluck my desires from my subconscious and use them to lead me by the nose. But he didn’t know I was a witch. He didn’t know I had a familiar.

  Peasblossom crouched behind my neck, her palm on my skin. I could feel her heartbeat through our bond, and thanks to her, there was a hiccup in the circuit of energy Harley was trying to create between us. I could feel what he was doing, but I wasn’t lost to it.

  We were drawing an audience. No one had approached, but I felt at least four of the other patrons staring at us, watching to see what would happen. I sighed. Reputation was everything in a place like this. A point had to be made.

  “Summonitores,” I said, flicking my fingers at the air over his head. “Aquila.”

  Harley’s smile faltered. He took a quick step back, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t that fast.

  Two eagles appeared over his head, ruffled brown feathers betraying their agitation, piercing eyes darting about for prey. It took seconds for them to shake off the disorientation from the summoning, and they looked to me, the one who’d called them. I flicked a finger in Harley’s direction. And smiled.