“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to mess up your floor—” she started to say, but I shook my head.
“Stop apologizing. I’m amazed you didn’t faint. Here, let me clean this up. Why don’t you go rinse out your mouth and I’ll make you some tea.”
She nodded, sniffling and wiping her nose on her shirtsleeve as she headed down the hall to the bathroom. I quickly cleaned up the mess and then carried my cereal bowl into the kitchen and dumped it, stopping briefly to open a package of cookies. I ate a handful of the Oreos as I fixed a cup of peppermint tea for her. It would calm her stomach and help soothe her tattered nerves.
When I returned to the table, she was sitting there, tissue box in hand, looking so pale that I was worried. I set the tea in front of her and returned to the kitchen for the cookies. Sugar could help with a great shock.
“How’s your stomach?” I asked, before setting the cookies down.
“Better. It was just such a shock. I’m just numb. So terribly cold and numb.” She shivered. I grabbed a throw off of one of the living room chairs—one that hadn’t been ruined by the ectoplasm and rain—and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Trust me, I thought I was going to faint when I opened the door and stepped into that horror show.” I paused, gauging her ability to handle more info, but even though she looked ready to crumble, I sensed an inner strength radiating from her that I hadn’t felt before. Lana was pulling on reserves she might not have even realized she had.
“I know there’s more. Tell me the rest. What about the demon?”
The caffeine started to kick in, and I licked my lips. Then, eating another cookie, I said, “It’s not a demon. Not a ghost either, exactly. Apparently, Tag managed to trap all the spirits of the women he’s killed. He sort of…stuck them together. The ‘demon’ is an entity created by the combination of all those poor spirits. We think he’s been sourcing energy off of them. He siphons life energy from their spirits to use for himself.”
“Of course he does,” Lana said humorlessly. She stared at the cookies for a moment, then grabbed one and ate it. “So I’m engaged to a serial killer who not only tortures the living, but tortures the dead as well?” She shook her head. “I want him dead, Raven. I want this fucking Target off my back, and I want him dead.”
“We’ll do everything we can. I thought I’d go see Herne this morning, find out if he can help. I want you in a safe space when we attack Tag, because it would be so easy for him to conjure something to go after you and he might, out of spite if nothing else. You’ll go with me.”
She cocked her head to the side. “I’ve never met a god before. Should I dress up?”
“Well, I recommend getting out of those sweats, but jeans are fine.” I glanced at the clock as the doorbell rang. “That should be Apollo. You go change and I’ll let him in.”
As Lana headed down the hall, I cautiously peeked through the peephole. Apollo it was. I opened the door and waved him in.
“Missy, you have some serious wards going on around your place. What the heck are you doing? Hiding from Lutharian?”
I shivered. “Don’t mention Lutharian, please. What I’m facing is bad enough, let alone having to deal with that freak again.” Lutharian was an old enemy, one I hoped I had seen the last of. But I had learned the hard way not to count my pay before the job was done.
“Seriously, you look like you’ve been dragged through the mud. I mean, you’re always delicious, but today you just look wiped, girlfriend.” Apollo noticed Lana’s purse and phone. “Company?”
“Yes, and don’t ask. I’ll tell you all about it later on, I promise. But right now I’m in the middle of a shitload of trouble, and I’m trying to keep my guest from getting killed. So I really need your help with the ferrets today.” I pushed the cookies across the table to him but he shook his head.
“Once on the lips, forever on the paunch,” he said, patting his six-pack.
The man never seemed to wear a shirt, and he was always parading around his lovely muscles. But he worked hard for them. I knew that Apollo had been blessed with a gorgeous physique at birth—that was part of his heritage as one of the Ante-Fae. And his voice was just as lovely. But even we Ante-Fae had to watch ourselves, or we could get out of shape. I was plump—curvy and busty, but plump—and it seemed to be my genetics. But I still worked out and even though I ate what I wanted, I tried to add some vegetables to my diet whenever I thought about it.
“One cookie is not going to destroy your six-pack, dude. But I get it. Never mind. Just be cautious. I have the wards up, as you noticed, but if you could keep an eye out while I’m gone. It should only take you an hour or two with the ferrets.” I paused, then ducked my head. “This is a bad one, Apollo. This is as bad as I’ve seen it get, at least outside the Ante-Fae community. Or a war zone situation or natural disaster.”
He blinked, his smile vanishing. “Take care of yourself. If you’re mixed up in something dangerous, please be cautious.”
“Yeah, I’m trying.” I stood up as Lana returned. “Ready?”
She nodded. “As much as I’ll ever be.”
Waving to Apollo, I held the door for her, my alarm bells on high alert as we headed to the car. Logically, I knew Tag couldn’t get here in the blink of an eye—even he wasn’t strong enough with his magic to have the ability to teleport—but Lana had a Target on her back, and that alone was cause for paranoia.
I hated driving in downtown Seattle, but it was a necessary evil at times for anybody living in the general area. Lana kept quiet, allowing me to focus on the traffic. Luckily, we weren’t caught up in rush hour traffic, but after navigating the floating bridge that spanned the banks of the Eastside to the banks of Seattle, the city proper became a labyrinth of winding streets: one-way nightmares that changed direction midway through, and hills that put a mountain climber to task.
Finally we reached First Avenue and I whispered a prayer. As we eased into a spot across the street from the Wild Hunt, I made a note to give the parking faeries their fair due on the next full moon. I turned off the ignition, leaning back for a moment to stare at the blue sky. The autumn day was surprisingly clear, and when we got out of the car, the air held that crisp, fresh scent that only a good chill on an October day could bring.
Lana gnawed on her finger as we stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the brick building. The trees that lined the street had lost their leaves already, and the leaves skittered along the pavement, clattering as they went.
“You’re sure about this?” she asked.
“We can’t just let him go on killing, Lana,” I said, hoping she hadn’t lapsed back into the land of lost-boyfriend regret.
But she shook her head. “Of course not. I just…I’m a little frightened. I told you, I’ve never met a god before and when you don’t interact with them, you can kind of pretend they don’t really exist. But after today, that option will be gone.”
I paused, wondering why she was so afraid. But then it hit me.
Humans weren’t used to interacting with the gods. They had thought the world was theirs and theirs alone for a long time, but then things shifted and they had to accept sharing it with other races and species. And when the gods returned—or rather, stepped out of the shadows—that upped the ante even more. But most people in the world still went along with their daily lives, ignoring their presence. It was natural for her to be nervous.
“You might find it’s comforting to know they’re really present,” I said, smiling. “It can be a nice feeling to know there’s someone more powerful than yourself, who just might be on your side. Kind of like having a big brother or sister, you know?”
“You don’t know my big sister. She’s a bitch in heels.” She snorted. “Oh well, meeting Herne can’t be any worse than finding out I’m engaged to a serial killer.” Sobering, she added, “I shouldn’t laugh. This is a horrible situation. I’ve just been so tense that—”
“It’s normal. Laughter eases tension and
stress. I know you don’t mean it in any flippant way. Come on, let’s get up to the office.” I had called ahead and scheduled an appointment with Herne and we were nearing eleven-thirty, the time he had set.
As we entered the building, an urgent care sat off to the side, with the elevator right near the clinic door, and the stairs further along the narrow hallway. I opted for the elevator, though last time I’d been in, it had creaked like an old woman’s bones.
As we reached the fourth floor, the doors opened into the Wild Hunt Agency’s waiting room. They took up the entire fourth floor. The reception desk sprawled in front of the entrance, a huge U-shaped desk. There were chairs to the right of the elevator as we stepped out into the room, and about four feet behind the desk, a door that led to Herne’s office. To our right, beyond the reception chairs, the wall jogged and the hallway continued toward what had to be the other offices and the break room. I glanced behind the desk, but Angel was nowhere in sight. A bell on the counter had the message “RING ME” beside it.
I rang the bell, motioning for Lana to take a seat, but before she could reach the chairs, the door to Herne’s office opened, and out came the Hunter. Herne was cute, all right, buff as fuck, with mid-shoulder wheat-colored hair caught back in a tight braid. He had a five-o’clock shadow, and his eyes were a brilliant blue, electrifying in their intensity. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, a V-neck blue sweater, and a pair of motorcycle boots.
“Come in, ladies.” He motioned to his office. “Everybody else is out for lunch right now except for Talia, but I’ve got her busy on our current case so she won’t be joining us.”
We entered Herne’s office, and I suppressed a laugh as Lana let out a gasp.
The office was a jungle of plants. They sprawled everywhere, glossy leaves filling the room with oxygen. The walls were sky blue, the ceiling white, and it reminded me of clouds floating overhead. A massive rack of antlers were mounted against one wall, and a weapons case held just about everything you could think of in the bow-and-blade range. Herne’s desk was highly polished dark walnut, and a black leather chair sat behind the desk. Two matching wingback chairs sat to one side, near a table holding a microwave. A mini fridge sat next to the table. Another pair of wingbacks sat in front of the desk, and a daybed rested against another wall, made up with a paisley comforter. All in all, the room looked like a studio apartment.
Herne motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat. What can I do for you today, Raven?”
As Lana sat down, I slid into my own seat. “This is my friend Lana. Lana, meet Herne.”
She murmured an almost imperceptible “Hello” and he nodded graciously at her.
I bit my lip, then plunged ahead. “We’ve got a serious problem and I don’t know who to talk to. So I thought I’d ask your opinion.”
He frowned, leaning forward, his elbows propped on the desk. “What’s up?”
“What’s up is… Well, hell. It’s a long story, but to cut to the chase, we’ve discovered that Lana’s fiancé is a serial killer and he’s got dozens of bodies stashed below the house. He’s one of the magic-born and he’s put a Target on Lana. On top of all that, Tag’s trapped the souls of all of his victims and formed them into one entity, which we believe he’s feeding off of.” I ran out of breath and fell back in my chair.
Herne stared at me like I’d just confessed to being an ax murderer.
“Come again?” he asked, leaning back, his expression shifting from friendly to bewildered. “That’s a lot of information in one go.”
“I know. There’s just no easy way to…well…ease into it. Let me start from the beginning.” I told him everything that had happened since Lana had first asked for my help. By the time I finished, his confused stare had shifted to anger.
“So, if you go to the police, they’ll take over and there’s a good chance that Lana will never be free of the Target.” Herne mulled over what I had told him. He gave me a sideways look. “I suppose you’ve decided to take this upon yourself to deal with. Don’t lie. I know you, Raven. You’re…impetuous.”
“That’s one way of describing me, yes. I like to get things done. So, is there any way you can help or advise me? I need to find a safe place for Lana to stay until we deal with Tag, so he can’t lash out at her in retaliation. I need to figure out how to deal with him. I can think of a number of ways but…” I trailed off at Herne’s studied stare.
“I think I can help you on protecting Lana. That much I can do. I’m not sure about the mage himself, because he’s not Fae, and I might be overstepping my boundaries. But let me make a quick call. I’ll be right back.” He stood, pulling out his phone, and exited the room.
I turned to Lana. “See, he’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, he does seem nice. Awfully cute. Have you ever dated him?”
“Oh, hell no. He and one of my friends—Ember—are an item. I know they’re in love and I don’t mess with anybody who’s spoken for. That’s always been one of my rules.” I grinned at her. “Besides, until last month, I was spoken for.” I felt a wistful tug on my heart, but pushed it away. I’d always love Ulstair, but I was doing my best to move on, and to let his spirit be free from any unintentional cords I might still have attached.
She glanced around. “I wonder what it would be like to work in a place like this.”
“Herne asked me to join the team, but I refused. I like my life the way it is, and I’ve got my own business. Besides which, I don’t play well with others,” I added with a laugh. “I’ve never been good at following the rules and if you work here, Herne has the final word. But we agreed to help each other as needed.”
A moment later, Herne returned. “All right, I have a place for Lana to stay where she’ll be safe. I’ll give you the address. It’s a Waystation, owned by a dwarf named Ginty. When you get there, Lana needs to formally ask him for sanctuary, and then he can protect her. Got it?”
I nodded. “Thank you. At least that will rest my mind on her safety.”
“Ginty might have some more advice for you. On my part, I suggest—and this is only a suggestion, do you understand?” He gave me a knowing look.
I nodded. “Oh yes, it’s just a suggestion.”
“Right. So I suggest that you don’t go to the police, at least not until Lana’s sequestered. Ginty can keep her safe from being Targeted while you deal with the mage.” He paused, frowning. “Raven, whatever route you choose, I’ll do whatever I can to intercede if you end up in trouble. But I have one request in return.”
I nodded. Herne was good to his word, I knew that much. “What is it?”
“Don’t tell Ember what’s going on. With the Cruharach coming up and the cases we’re working, she’s got enough on her plate. She doesn’t need anything else to worry about, and she would want to help. And don’t tell Angel, or you know she’d tell Ember. Just keep this meeting between us for now. All right?” He gave me a long look, and I knew it wasn’t a request so much as a demand.
I was in no position to bargain, and if Ember was truly as stressed as he said, I didn’t want to add to her worries. “All right. I’ll keep quiet until everything’s over and done with. Thanks, Herne. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem,” he said, standing. “Now, I have to ask you to leave, because they’ll be back from lunch soon. Ember and Angel would want to know what you’re doing here. I just texted you the address of the Waystation. Go in peace.” To Lana he said, “I wish you all the best, and I’m truly sorry for your predicament. I wish I could help more.”
I murmured good-bye, and we took our leave and returned to the car. At least we had a direction in which to move. For that much, I was grateful.
Chapter Fourteen
Ginty’s Waystation Bar & Grill was on the Eastside. Relieved we were headed back across the bridge, I brought up the directions to Ginty’s on my GPS. It was out toward the great Fae cities of TirNaNog and Navane, at the end of Way Station Lane. First I had to tur
n onto Paradise Lake Road, near Bear Creek, but that wasn’t difficult. I knew the area, and had a pretty good idea of where we were going.
“What’s a Waystation?” Lana asked as we sped back over the floating bridge. Traffic on our side was flowing smoothly, as opposed to the bumper-to-bumper traffic headed westbound.
“There must be a game or something this afternoon,” I muttered, staring at the line of crawling cars going the opposite way. Seattle boasted not only a baseball team, but a football team and plenty of collegiate sports, and the women’s basketball team was also pretty popular.
“I think the Huskies are playing this afternoon. University of Washington, you know,” Lana said. “My nephew plays for them.”
“College football. Yeah, that would account for the gridlock. To answer your question, a Waystation is like a Sanctuary House, but usually focuses on Cryptos. However, you’ll be a lot safer at a Waystation than a Sanc-House. There’s bound to be a lot more magical protection because of the very nature of the establishment.”
“Who’s Ginty?”
“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. I’ve never had any dealings with him, though Herne said he’s a dwarf.” I knew several dwarves—they responded better to the Ante-Fae than the Fae themselves did. Most of the members of the dwarven race lived in the mountains, but occasionally some of them ventured into the cities. They were short in stature, yes, but strong and tough, and they tended to have the stamina of an elephant.
I skirted through the neighborhoods, then into a rural stretch before we eased into a large parking lot next to what looked like a rough, wooden, single-story tavern. The meadow beyond the bar was overgrown and wild, and as I stepped out of the car, I had the feeling it was one of the Wild Places—the overgrown, dark areas where the Ante-Fae and the nature Fae ran wild. Even the queens of TirNaNog and Navane couldn’t control the forest devas, as the nature Fae were generally known.
Witching Hour: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 7 Page 18
