by Liz de Jager
‘Why didn’t you say something about this to me earlier?’ Dante mutters to Aiden. ‘She’s had these before?’
‘I think so. She had one in the car on the way over the other day. Didn’t think anything of it.’
‘How can you not know it’s a thing? She’s your friend.’
‘I didn’t know. She didn’t say anything about it before. So just stop shouting at me!’
‘Stop telling me I’m shouting because I’m not shouting.’
‘You’re both totally shouting.’ I clear my throat and push away from them both. ‘Also, is this your first fight, because it’s kinda cute.’
Before either of them could turn their bickering on me, Detective Shen steps out of the tent, looking grim. ‘What’s going on with you?’ Her voice is sharp but I have trouble focusing on her. ‘You look like hell. What was that fainting episode back there? Since when are you a diva, Blackhart? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have called you to the crime scene. That’s as sterile an environment as we could make it and now there’s blood everywhere.’
I try to speak but Dante steps between me and Shen.
‘Detective Shen.’ There’s something accusatory in Dante’s voice that stops her short and she blinks at his tone. ‘I’m sure Kit didn’t start her nosebleed on purpose. I would also remind you that not all of us are veteran police officers, and seeing the dead body of a small child is a shock to the system. If you can let us regroup, I think we may have some insight into what happened to Tia.’
I don’t know who’s more surprised by his calm and deliberate words, me or Detective Shen.
‘I shouldn’t have called you. You shouldn’t be part of this. What was I thinking?’ she mutters, but then her eyes find mine and she relaxes slightly. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine, thanks. Just a nosebleed.’
‘Do you sniff drugs? Because that eats away at the nasal cavity and …’
‘I don’t sniff drugs. And I never will. Or smoke. Or inject. Trust me. My life is screwed up enough as it is – I don’t need chemicals to help me along.’ I grimace at the tissues in my hand but shove them into my pocket rather than my bag. ‘Sorry about back there.’ I find Aiden’s gaze. ‘I had a weird turn, like time slipped away from me.’
Detective Shen drags a hand through her fringe and takes a steadying breath. ‘You are in agreement, though, that the child we found in the river is Tia?’
I nod. ‘From the photos I’ve seen in her room, that is definitely Tia.’
‘It’s not a bit of tree that’s been glamoured to look like her?’ Detective Shen looks at me intently. ‘Because I’ve been on a case where that’s happened.’
‘No, it’s her. It’s really her.’ I rub my aching head but manage to keep my voice steady when I speak next. ‘She didn’t die in the river. You’ll find no water in her lungs, so she didn’t drown. I don’t know how she died but it was fast and peaceful. You’ll also find that she’s been well fed and that she is probably in a very healthy state.’
Shen’s expression is one of surprise. ‘We’ve already determined that she didn’t drown.’
‘Good. That’s good. Her death wasn’t planned. She was looked after by someone who’d gone to a lot of trouble to do so.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Her hair, her clothes, her hands. The person who had her made sure she stayed healthy.’ I stare at her and shrug. ‘And yet here she is, no longer alive.’
Shen watches me for a few minutes longer before shaking her head. ‘You are very much like Jamie. Thank you, Blackhart. You have been of some assistance.’ She sighs and turns back to the river. One of the technicians approaches and they speak in hushed tones. She gives a nod and within moments everyone heads back into the tent. Everyone except Shen. ‘I need to ask you this: can you give your whereabouts for the past twenty-four hours?’
It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does, that she asks us to give alibis. We give her all the information we can before she nods her thanks, but only after warning us not to go on sudden holidays or leave the country. She also warns us away from visiting Tia’s estate again and we solemnly swear that we won’t go near it or any of the parents of the missing children. Or their friends. After a final searing glare she dismisses us and heads back to her team.
We’re halfway to the car when Aiden turns to look at me.
‘What?’
‘You know exactly what.’
I try to ignore the eyebrows and concerned scowl but in the end I give in. ‘I’m sorry. Usually I can control the start of my visions, when I’m actively trying to see what happened.’ I draw a heavy breath and wince as my nose aches in the frigid air. ‘Things went a bit weird in the tent and I couldn’t even fight it. The vision just took me.’
‘What does that mean, Kit? Try to be clear so we lesser mortals can understand.’
I’m aware that Dante’s standing protectively by my side and I give him a grateful look before continuing: ‘I know who sent Tia here.’
‘Who?’ Dante’s a fraction of a second faster than Aiden.
‘Brixi. Brixi left Tia in the river.’
‘So he’s actually killing the kids now? Is that what we’re expecting? Will there be more kids being left behind for us to find?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Something went wrong. That’s why he brought Tia back.’
‘He didn’t bring her back, Kit. He dumped her body in the river.’
Behind my eyes I replay the vision that hit me in the tent – and see again the reverence in Brixi’s ritualistic gestures as he lays the small body down in the wooden craft. The small silver coin he places in her mouth before pushing the boat into the river. He then wades back to shore, with its soaring trees and thick undergrowth. He turns to watch the coracle float down the misty river and moves his hands in a ceremonial goodbye. His expression is haunted and sad.
‘He didn’t bring her back here, to the Frontier.’ I frown as I walk ahead of them a little. ‘He was in the Otherwhere when he put her in the river. There should be a little boat too, like an old-time kind of boat. A coracle.’
‘How did she get here from there, then?’ Aiden’s voice is harsh and Dante shoots him an annoyed look before replying.
‘Someone could have brought her here.’
I close my eyes and remember what I saw: the flat pebbled shore and the wide rushing river. The impenetrable thick forest. The way Brixi moves, the slump of his shoulders, the way his head hangs low.
‘Thorn said things were changing in the Otherwhere, and I wonder if this is part of it?’ I fix them both with a stare. ‘If things are going south with the goddess, it could be that she’s using up more power to keep the Veil intact and that in turn is putting a strain on everything else. It could mean that she’s using up the kids faster. And if that is the case, more of them could die and more could be taken from our world to help sustain her.’ I shudder at the thought.
‘And then what happens if those kids are used up?’ Dante hunches his shoulders. ‘They take more from our world to feed her? Or everything just stops? I just want to put this out there but I think this whole thing – the way the Veil is being maintained by the goddess and the kids – feels somehow makeshift. How do I put this? It feels like the Fae want the Veil to be strong, but are using the supernatural equivalent of gaffer tape.’
Both Aiden and I stare at him.
‘That is a terrifying thought.’ Aiden shakes his head. ‘I’d rather believe the guys in charge aren’t just making it up as they go along.’
‘The guys are in charge are the ones stealing children for their energy, so they can act as batteries for the goddess,’ I point out. ‘How safe does that make you feel?’
Now I’m the focus of both their stares and I add, ‘I’m stating a fact. If the goddess’s powers are failing completely, Brixi and his handful of left-over Faceless underlings will be stealing more kids.’
‘We stop them from doing that,’ Aiden’s voice is flat and h
ard. ‘No way do they do that. Not again.’
‘Listen, let’s get in the car. I know you’re not bothered by the cold, Aide, but Kit’s turning blue and I can’t feel my toes any more.’
Aiden unlocks the car and we clamber in. I fiddle with the radio as we drive away. The news announces another cold front is due to hit the UK and that heavy snow’s been predicted across all of the British Isles. The threat of flooding will also be high once the ice melts. People are being urged to stock up on basics and not to travel long distances if they can help it.
‘This is sounding worse and worse,’ Aiden mutters, hunching over the steering wheel. ‘Give me a minute.’ I sit back and listen as Aiden activates speakerphone on his mobile and has Dante call the pack’s farm in Hertfordshire. Aiden instructs the caretaker to be ready for an influx of wolves, in case they need a place to stay if the weather worsens. Then another call comes through.
‘This is Aiden’s phone,’ I answer in my best PA voice and he rolls his eyes at me.
‘Kit?’
It takes me longer than I would have liked to place the voice, but when I do I’m genuinely surprised.
‘Philippe?’ I look at Aiden in surprise and he shrugs – why would Milton’s head barman be calling now?
‘Is Aiden with you? And the Spook?’
‘We’re all here,’ I tell him and for no reason I suddenly feel tense.
‘Philippe. Are you okay, dude?’ Aiden indicates and turns down a side road.
There’s a muffled noise in the background and a muttered curse. ‘No, not really. I need you three to come to Milton’s. Miron’s asked me to call.’
I look at Aiden, who looks as worried as I do. ‘In what capacity are we coming to Milton’s? Are we just hanging out or is there something else going on?’
‘Something is definitely going on. Don’t spare the horses. Just get here.’
And then the call is disconnected.
Chapter Twelve
Miron the demon is behind what is left of the bar; Philippe is cleaning up nearby. Dressed in a shredded suit and wearing cuts and bruises as if they are medals, Miron looks like utter hell. Pun intended. There’s also a faint stench of sulphur in the air and the residue of recent magic buzzes uncomfortably against me. As Miron watches us approach, picking our way over the debris of broken tables, glitter balls and other bits of furniture, he throws back a shot of something that makes my eyes water even from across the room.
‘Miron, you threw a party and you didn’t invite us? I’m hurt.’ Aiden grins at the demon and shakes the proffered hand. Dante and I get a nod each before Miron moves out from behind the bar.
‘Thank you for coming this fast. Let’s go and talk in my office.’
‘What happened?’ I ask the demon, as he leads us up the damaged staircase to his office space.
‘A brawl. Humans on Glow are vile and unruly. Just look at the mess.’ He sighs in deep annoyance. ‘However, there may have been some Fae involved. Possibly some Infernal. Definitely one of the angels.’ He waves an elegant hand. ‘Everyone fought. I’ll have to deep clean the premises. But the unfortunate taint of magic, alcohol and blood leaves a miasma that just won’t come out – no matter how deep you clean. I’ll possibly have to remodel it completely.’ The nightclub is wrecked; there’s not a single table or chair that’s survived unscathed. The DJ booth is in pieces too and even one of the chandeliers has somehow been torn from the ceiling. It now lies in a neatly swept-up pile in the middle of the dance floor.
‘I’m getting too old for this. Maybe I should retire and let Philippe take over.’
‘Please, no,’ Philippe calls from below. ‘Never get me involved in any of your schemes ever again.’
We follow Miron past the VIP booths and private rooms and into his intact office. He sinks down behind his desk and rubs tiredly at his face. Without asking for permission, Aiden drags the couch over so we can sit in front of him.
‘I sent everyone home after we managed to deal with most of the mess. None of the humans were too badly hurt, apart from the three who took Glow and started the fighting.’
‘What exactly happened, Miron?’ I ask him, not entirely sure how three humans could make this much mess.
‘And how did they get past your doorman and his team?’ Dante asks him, leaning forward. He has his notebook out and his pen is hovering. I bite my lip and don’t say anything, but Aiden and I share a look of amusement. Dante and his little notebook really have become one of our favourite things.
‘Hysteria.’ With great care Miron shrugs out of his suit jacket and I’m shocked to see how much of his shirt is ripped and covered in blood. I must make some sound of distress because he just lifts a calming hand. ‘This isn’t my blood. And before you ask, I wasn’t the cause of said personage to bleed out.’
I mouth ‘bleed out’ in horror but before I can ask anything, Dante asks, ‘What do you mean by “hysteria”?’
‘And “bleed out” means “bleed to death” in some circles, Miron,’ I point out, but he just frowns at me in annoyance.
‘I said personage, not person. No one died here, Kit. Or, if they did, they picked themselves up and walked out of here first with everyone else. Let me show you what happened. It’s easier than trying to explain.’ From a hidden drawer beneath the desk Miron removes a small remote and, after he presses a sequence of buttons, the wall behind his desk recedes by a foot and a band of TV screens slides down.
‘I had the cameras installed maybe a year ago, when my doorman Rorke noticed we were routinely being targeted by some unpleasant Unseelie. Right, here we go. The cameras are manufactured to my specifications – which is why you’ll actually be able to see the Fae, Infernal and others that frequent the club.’
Others? What can be more other than the creatures he’s already mentioned? I try not to dwell on that as we settle in to watch Miron’s home movie.
It’s just after midnight, according to the timings on the screens, and Milton’s is full to bursting. It seems everyone is having the time of their lives. I recognize some of the waiters as they move around with drinks, clearing glasses and bottles from the tables dotted around. They are fully manifesting in their Fae form and I spot a dryad and one is definitely a little Japanese kitsune – if her six tails and cute ears are anything to go by.
‘Watch.’ Miron taps the screen. ‘It starts here.’
He does something on his tablet and the camera zooms in. Initially I don’t see anything much apart from people dancing but then I see it and I gasp. A young woman, maybe in her early twenties, is levitating. It’s not obvious at first, she just suddenly seems a bit taller than the people around her, then she keeps getting taller until you realize she’s not growing but rising into the air. The people around her react with gasps of awe and looks of surprise. Then that changes to incredulity before turning into shock and fear. People stumble away, giving her more room. The woman’s expression is ecstatic and she’s smiling like a painting of a blissed-out Madonna in the National Gallery. Her arms are flung wide as she starts spinning in slow circles, at least a metre above everyone else’s heads.
‘People start applauding at this point. They think it’s some kind of show we’re putting on. But then look.’ He taps the screen to reveal another part of the floor.
Another girl moves through the crowd, a lone figure in a pretty floral dress. A guy bumps into her, turns to apologize, then they’re suddenly kissing violently. There’s no other way to describe it. And no matter how much he tries to push her off, she keeps her arms wound around his neck and it’s horrifically intimate, watching her before she releases him. He crumples at her feet and the girl’s face is serene and beautiful as she steps over him.
There’s a commotion near the bar then and the crowd surges away from two guys throwing wild blows at one another. Then one just steps back, rolls his neck to loosen up, grabs his opponent by the shirt and just tosses him like a sack of potatoes. The guy goes flying across the heads of bystander
s and hits one of the columns, where he falls to the floor in a bloody unconscious mess.
And that’s all it takes for a proper fight to break out. It starts off as an ordinary brawl, for sure, but it’s a riot within moments. The chaos that erupts isn’t helped when more Fae start manifesting in their true forms, freaking more people out. Rorke’s in the middle of the crowd, along with some of the other staff, directing people to the exits. Everything seems to be calming down a little – which is when the angel steps right off the mezzanine balcony and punches Rorke in the face.
‘What happened?’ I ask Miron after watching too much of the violence on the screen. ‘What triggered this?’
‘Glow.’ Miron grimaces as he shifts in his chair and I hear his breathing hitch. I recognize that sound and the way he winces slightly. His ribs are hurt for sure, even if he claims he isn’t injured. ‘I have no idea what they’ve done to the stuff, because now it’s also affecting Fae, the angels and the Infernal. My club is no longer neutral territory as the fight contravened every law and bylaw governing neutral areas. I’m going to have my licence revoked and no one will ever come here again.’
‘That was a huge fight that escalated pretty fast,’ Dante points out, simply ignoring Miron bemoaning his club’s potential demise. ‘How did everyone get the Glow? And by get it, I mean how did everyone ingest it?’
The answer seems obvious to me, but it’s Aiden who answers. ‘It was airborne. It would be the fastest way to spread the drug. Unless everyone somehow managed to eat or drink it, which, in a club this big would be very hard to bring off.’
‘You’re coming to the same conclusion Philippe and I did. We had a bunch of goblins in during the week to adjust the air conditioning throughout the club. We suspect they’re the ones who jimmied the vents.’
‘Why didn’t you or Philippe get affected?’
‘I’m not sure we escaped. I think we were both just less affected than others.’ He points to himself. ‘Demon of a higher order. Phillipe as an acolyte of Dionysus.’ When I stare at him he sighs. ‘Also known as Bacchus, the god of wine and ritual madness and general insane revels. Don’t you learn anything worthwhile these days?’
