“Finding him while he’s boinking his ex is not part of my job description,” she said. “He can jump on all the women he wants. My job is to keep him apprised of the goings-on in Factors Row.” She rubbed two front legs together.
“Apprised is a big word. Did you learn it from the book I got you?” I asked.
Her beady eyes blinked up at me. “I did, actually.”
“And you remember that another book is your payment for this?” I reminded her of the conversation when I’d gone to ask her for help. Come with me to find her boss, and another book on editing was hers.
A hand patted my leg. I glanced down at Sarge. “You good to wait for us here?”
He gave a quick nod, saying, “For what it’s worth, I do think Corb cares for you.” He sighed softly. “I just don’t think he’s good at real relationships. Very few sirens are, Bree.”
“No shit,” I muttered. “But you agree that I can’t trust him. I saw your face in the shop. He was lying to me about Annie. He knew I’d draw her out, or at least that it was a potential outcome.” Which Corb adding a protection spell of sorts on me only made more likely.
Sarge gave a reluctant nod and a sigh. “Yeah. I could smell it on him. But that doesn’t mean he wanted things to go down that way. I know he wouldn’t intentionally put you in danger.”
I patted his hand. “You’re a good friend, Sarge.”
He shrugged. “So are you, Bree.”
“Enough mush. Let’s get this done. I want my book.” Jinx splashed water at us.
Skel stomped his foot closest to her, sending a spray of water over her head. I rubbed his neck again and bumped my heels against his sides.
We trotted forward, under the fall of water, and through the fountain into the land of Faerie.
It looked different than it had the last time, but I wasn’t here to study the scenery.
“We have to hurry,” I said. “Skel, find Crash.”
And just like that, the horse lunged into a flat-out gallop that had me bouncing on his back and hanging on for all I was worth with hands and legs. It didn’t amount to much, apparently, because Bridgette and I started slipping sideways. I was not a natural horseback rider and the speed was not helping. I squeaked and tried to claw my way back upright.
Robert grabbed me by the back of my shirt and yanked us both back onto Skel’s back.
“Thanks!” I yelped, and then we were skidding to a stop, a spray of flowers floating up around us as if they were dandelion fluff. I blinked and wiped a hand over my face, finally seeing the landscape. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of springtime moss and flowers, all in hues of pinks and creamy whites, like a teenage girl’s bedroom. Ahead of us was a gazebo with a massive bower of woven flowers around it, a curtain of the same flowers hiding whatever—or whoever—was in that gazebo from my gaze.
But it didn’t do a damn thing to muffle sounds that were definitely not sleeping.
I looked at Jinx, who blinked her beady eyes up at me. “You know he might not want to be interrupted.”
“I need his help,” I said. “And no matter who he might care for, I . . . I think I can trust him.”
“Think? That’s not the best word for this situation,” Jinx said. “Ruminate might be better. Or ponder.”
“I ponder that I can trust him?” I slid from Skel’s back, and Robert followed, his bones clacking as he landed. “That’s not good editorial advice.”
“I think it’s fabulous advice,” she muttered.
“I’d stet it,” I threw back as we walked toward the flowery bower.
I looked back at Skel and Bridgette waiting. She was staring around as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Then again, she might never have visited the Seelie side of Faerie before. I motioned for her to keep her eyes on us and she gave a quick nod.
The sounds from the bower seemed less sinful the closer we got, more like someone talking in their sleep. “I don’t think they’re getting it on,” I whispered.
“Coitus. Humping. Banging. Roll in the hay. Bow-chick-a-wow-wow,” Jinx said.
“Stop it,” I hissed and took a swing at her, a back-handed swat.
“I’m showing off my skills with synonyms.” She scuttled sideways.
I pointed at the bower. “You go up top, see what’s going on.”
She glowered at me. “You want me to look at the Boss porking his ex?”
I closed my eyes. “That is the worst synonym, don’t . . . just go look, damn it!”
The spider scurried forward and I waited about ten feet away from the bower, staring at the curtain of flowers. Knowing that Crash was in there. I could just call to him. Maybe that was what I should do, but what if he was in trouble?
Part of me hoped he was in trouble. Because what if Crash was sleeping peacefully with her? What if it was obvious that they were . . . back together? Her note had said she missed him. What if he’d taken one look at my body, and gone running back to his ex-wife?
My ego wasn’t quite ready for that blow.
Jinx’s long legs took her up the side of the bower in a jiff, and she crept to the center and peeked through.
A wave of one feeler and I moved forward, pulling my knives. I motioned for Robert to stay outside. Just in case. Because gawd in heaven, my last encounter with Karissa, queen of the fae, here in her realm had gone just . . . okay. We’d parted on terms of reluctant understanding, but she’d seemed displeased with the thought that Crash might have any sort of interest in me.
Maybe he didn’t.
I swallowed hard and lifted a knife to the flowers, cutting through them as if they weren’t even there. I stepped through into the candle-lit room, if it could be called that. Karissa was in the middle of the bed, her young lover to the left of her, and Crash . . . Crash lay to her right, hands above his head under his pillow, a flash of his tats showing with the sheet just barely above his waist.
My heart did a funny stupid squeeze that made me wish for an aspirin, because it felt like a boa constrictor was tightening around me, preparing to swallow me whole. Damn it. Seeing him sleeping there with her hurt a hell of a lot more than I wanted to admit.
But I still needed his help.
He was the boss of the goblins. I should have come to him first. I should have ignored Grimm and asked Crash for his help right from the start.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda.
I crept to his side, tucked my knife away, poked him in the ribs with a finger, and backed up quickly.
I knew what happened to people who woke him unexpectedly. I recalled all too vividly being thrown across the room the first time I’d tried it.
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the flower bower. Jinx waved at him and pointed toward me.
His head barely rolled my way, just moving enough for him to see me, and the anguish in his eyes dropped me to my knees. “Get out, Bree.”
The words were growled, but there was no real heat behind them. Karissa sat up beside him in bed and then draped her body across his, all of which I caught in my peripheral vision. Because I couldn’t look away from Crash, and what I was seeing in his eyes was that none of this was his idea. She’d used her power to compel him, somehow.
“Oh, she did show up,” Karissa purred. “You didn’t go to save your friends then?”
Which meant she knew something about it. Because, of course she did. I stood and faced the fairy queen, pulling out the one card I had that she likely didn’t know about. “Ah, well, you have something of mine.”
She ran her fingers over Crash’s chest. “You think he’s yours? That’s amusing.”
A smile slid over my lips even though a small aching part of me still wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t enjoying his time with her. “Here’s the deal. I freed him from the slavery that tied him to the O’Seans. He willingly became a piece of my property at that point. I believe his words were, I am yours.”
I snapped my fingers at her in a perfect zigzag pattern. It had been inten
ded as a saucy gesture to show her just how little she bothered me, but light burst from my fingertips—teal blue sparkles flecked with black. They whipped around Crash, and Karissa squeaked and fell backward. I had no idea what I was doing—hell, I’d snapped my fingers for effect, not because I’d expected some sort of magic to pop out of me—but I tried to keep that out of my expression.
Karissa squeaked a second time as the sparkles danced over her, and she fully pulled away from Crash, who was able to sit up and stumble forward, the sheet sliding off him.
Both disappointment and elation filled me.
He had his jeans on.
I stepped forward and let him put an arm over my shoulders as he wobbled away from the bed. Damn. She’d done a number on him.
I helped him out of the bower, fully expecting her to follow. Robert swayed up to us, and I motioned for him to keep pace. Jinx scuttled down off the bower.
“Boss, she promised me another book to help, but I want one from you too.” Jinx was in front of us, walking backward. Crash managed a nod, but that was it.
“Crash, how big of a fight is this going to be with her?” I asked.
“You won’t see it coming.” His Irish accent was heavy, his words slurry as if he were completely drunk. “She’ll come at you when you least expect it.”
“Ah, excellent. Just what I was hoping for.” I helped him over to Skel. The horse went to one knee without being asked, and Crash managed to pull himself onto his back. I hopped up in front of him, Bridgette still sitting in front of me, as she had never gotten off Skel’s back. I held out a hand to Robert.
“Come on, friend, we aren’t done yet.”
He put his hand in mine, and between one blink and the next, I held a finger bone in my hand. I tucked him back between my boobs. Crash leaned heavily on me, his head on my shoulder.
“Skel, back to the fountain,” I said, and we were off and running.
It was not lost on me that this was the second time I’d taken a prisoner from Karissa, both times with very little fuss on her part.
Call me overcautious, but I was going to have to deal with her soon.
Sooner than I would’ve liked, for sure.
Crash’s arms were around me, holding on for balance more than anything. Sprays of flowers floated up around us as we galloped through the land of Faerie, and I found myself pulling on Skel’s mane. In the distance was a dark peak of a mountain, bright lights illuminating it as though I were staring at a modern-day Las Vegas in the middle of Faerie land.
“Goblins are Unseelie, a part of the fae,” I said softly. “Bridgette, you said there is an entrance to Goblin Town here in Faerie?”
“Yes.” She bobbed her head excitedly, her ears flicking. “You can see it too?”
“I’ve a little bit of fae blood in me. Enough to make trouble.” I grinned at her and she grinned back.
“We can sneak in the back way,” I went on. “Your outfit and mine will keep us from being seen and then there shouldn’t be as big of a time difference.” I touched the fabric that was currently clinging to my body. Gerry had had the suits ready in time, and mine fit like a glove, camouflage and all.
She was spot on. The goblins would be watching the front gate, the way we’d been told to come in. I pointed at Jinx. “You go with Sarge, head straight for Goblin Town. Keep their attention on the front gate. Don’t engage them other than to taunt the shit out of them, okay? Tell them I’m hurrying as fast as I can, buy us time!”
Jinx grumbled as she shot toward the fountain exit. I turned Skel and asked for more speed as we raced across the land of Faerie toward Goblin Town, a passed-out fae king against my back, an ousted goblin riding in front, and a skeleton’s finger bone tucked between my boobs.
How could anything possibly go wrong?
23
Turned out a solid fifteen-foot wall of rock surrounded Goblin Town. I had a suspicion that Skel could jump it, but that wouldn’t work with the plan I had going on. Bridgette was right, with her natural ability to blend in and the outfit Gerry had made for me—thankfully the hubbub in Death’s Row hadn’t slowed her down any—we could do this better and faster on our own.
Not for one second did I believe the goblin king would make a fair trade of my friends for the spell book. And if he wanted that spell book so damn badly, I wasn’t about to give it to him. It freaked out everyone who knew anything about the shadow world, which seemed reason enough to keep it safe.
Crash’s head lolled onto my shoulder. I tapped him, but he didn’t wake up. So much for using him as a backup. “Skel, can you lie down?” I whispered.
The horse went to his knees and then to his belly, and Crash slid off to one side, a low moan the only noise he made. I hopped off and pulled Robert from my boobs and set him on the ground.
A moment later, he was standing next to me, swaying side to side. “Help me move him.”
Together the three of us pulled Crash so he lay in the shadow of the wall. A loud bang sounded above us, pinning me to the wall, my butt cheeks squeezing so hard I wasn’t sure what might pop out.
A burst of colors in the air eased a little of my anxiety. Fireworks, that was all.
“That’s early,” Bridgette said. “They shouldn’t be celebrating the silver moon already.”
The line came back to me then in a rush I didn’t like. “The silver moon is the time for the demon skin to be found, and bound, and used to be bidden.”
Bridgette whipped around and looked at me. “What did you say?”
I pulled out the book, Black Spells of Savannah and the Undead, making sure that Alan stayed in the bag despite his grumbling. “It’s from the book the king wants.”
She looked up at me. “Our family trees are written on demon skin. They hide some of our darkest spells in them.”
My hands started shaking, the book nearly tumbling out of them. I was sure, absolutely certain I’d heard her wrong. I must have. “What did you say?”
“Um. Our family trees are written on demon skin. They hide some of our darkest spells in them.” She frowned. “Why, what does that have to do with anything?”
Grimm had said people were after his family tree, but I hadn’t believed him. I’d thought it was the coin.
Then I’d thought it was Black Spells of Savannah and the Undead.
I swallowed hard. “What kind of spells?”
Bridgette stared hard at me. “Breena, why does it matter?”
I tucked the book under my arm and pulled out the yellow envelope, taking out the freaking demon skins scrawled with Goblinese.
She held out a hand, trembling, her eyes scanning it quickly. “This is bad, Breena,” she said, looking up at me with large eyes. “The spells in here, they are some of the worst I’ve ever seen. Bringing back monsters that have been wiped out for generations.”
The Silver Lady’s words reverberated in my head.
“Is there a way to bring . . . vampires back in there?”
Please say no, please say no, please say no.
She scanned the pages for too long, long enough to give me hope, and then she shoved them back at me as if she couldn’t bear to touch them anymore. “Yes. There’s a spell in there to bring a plague of vampires down on us. This is crazy, why would they . . .” she trailed off, muttering to herself. “I can’t even believe this! We’ve always been taught to stay as far from vampires as possible. To have nothing to do with them.”
I looked at the pages in my hands. “Maybe this is why. No matter how you look at it, we can’t leave them here, and we can’t take them with us.”
Bridgette was shaking as badly as me now. “I can’t believe anyone would even write that down. Why?”
I shook my head. “No idea. But it’s a stupid thing to do.”
I put the Black Spells of Savannah and the Undead on the ground and dug around in my bag, pausing to point at Alan’s stupid face and then snap my fingers to make him stay put.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
<
br /> “Like I said, we can’t take it in with us. Which means we have to destroy it right now.” I found the small package of matches I’d stuffed into my bag at a bar Suzy and I had gone to for drinks.
“Won’t work,” Bridgette said. “Fire will only make the magic come to life. We’ll have to find another way.”
“Damn it!” I shoved the matches and everything else back in my bag, making Alan grumble. All I could do was hope that my accidental paper swap didn’t end up hurting a lot of people. “Skel, you stay here and guard Crash.”
I didn’t necessarily want to leave him out here by himself, but I wasn’t sure we had much of a choice. Whatever whammy Karissa had hit him with, it had hit him hard. Robert, Bridgette, and I jogged away—well, I jogged, he swayed quickly, and she scurried to keep up—down the line of the wall, my hand on the surface of it, feeling for anything we could use to get in.
Because I’d watched Labyrinth too many times not to wonder if maybe, just maybe, the writers had been right about goblins liking illusions and mazes and whatnot . . .
“There’s this part in the movie,” I said as if they had any idea what I was talking about, “and it was just an illusion, but that illusion made it nearly impossible to see . . .” My hand dipped into an opening I hadn’t seen, and I slid to a stop and stared at the wall. “Hot damn, apparently the movie got it right. You two, stick close.”
I stepped into the opening. In front of me was a second rock wall, about two feet away from the first and set up with an illusion that was hard to break. To either side of that second wall were paths that led away from the wall. I stepped around and stared down a long street into what looked like the Strip in Vegas. I’d been there once, years before, and the sounds and lights were spot on, even if the names of the businesses were totally off kilter.
Tits and Bits
All Your Jewels
Gimme Yo Money
To name a few. More notable than the radical honesty of their marketing was the lack of people—or goblins. I stood at the far end of what looked to be a long stretch ending in what could only be a massive set of front doors. A ridiculously tall platform stood in front of them. I dug around in my bag and pulled out the binoculars Sarge had given me earlier.
Midlife Demon Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 3 Page 20
