Cruel Fate

by Kelley Armstrong

  I headed into the dining room to find Gabriel standing at the window, staring out. At first, I thought he was watching Todd go. Then I realized Todd had walked the other way, and Gabriel’s laptop still sat on the table, unopened.

  When I walked behind him and put my hands around his waist, he gave a start. I backed up and said, “Hey,” as he turned. It took a moment for him to nod, murmuring something similar. He didn’t meet my gaze, his eyes empty, his mind elsewhere. He snapped out of it in a blink, leaning to kiss my cheek and then walking to his laptop.

  “I spoke to our new client today,” he said. “It was certainly interesting.”

  That was my opening. Now, I’d say, “Interesting how?” in anticipation of a good story. Yesterday, he’d told me about this new client as a distraction. Today, he did the same…to distract me from noticing his distant gaze and closed laptop. I could be a shitty girlfriend, too wrapped up in my own drama to notice anything wrong with him. He’d been quiet during dinner, engaged but adding little, letting me prattle on because it kept me from noticing his own mood.

  When I didn’t ask, “Interesting how?” a look passed over his face. One so subtle and fleeting only I would notice. Panic. He’d dangled the bait, and I hadn’t jumped for it.

  He continued to the table, his chin down, gaze on his laptop as he sat and popped it open.

  “He’s blaming the dog now,” Gabriel said. “Yes, apparently, yesterday, when he tried to blame his ex-wife, my reaction suggested he could do better. So now, it’s the dog.”

  “Gabriel?”

  His fingers tensed over the keyboard. Then he quickly tapped keys, opening applications with a casual, “Hmm?”

  “You left your wine in the kitchen. Would you like it?”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

  “I’ll bring it into the living room. We can talk there.”

  A pause, fingers poised over the keys again. His mouth opened, and I knew he sensed a trap. He was about to say, no, he really had so much to do, and he’d tell me his story while he worked.

  “Todd’s gone for a walk,” I said. “We have an empty house and”—I lifted my glass—“excellent wine, bought for me by my awesome boyfriend. Let’s relax for a few minutes. I’d love to hear the rest of that story.”

  The tension eased again, and he nodded and rose. I retrieved his wine and found him in the parlor, lighting the fireplace.

  “There’s a chill,” he said.

  Yes, there is. But it’s not the weather.

  I let him finish. Then he settled beside me on the sofa, and I set my wineglass down and turned, pulling my feet up, my back resting against him. He relaxed more at that. I was curled up with him, not looking at him, relaxed and clearly not the least bit suspicious.

  “So what’s wrong?” I said.

  I swore I heard the mental “Shit!” as he stiffened. I inched down the sofa, flopped my head onto his lap and gazed up at him.

  “No, I wasn’t fooled. Yes, I trapped you here before I called you on it. Nasty trick. I learned from the best.”

  He stayed tense. Then he relaxed with a snort, and his hand went to my hair, stroking it off my face. A careful touch, as if even after a year together, he was ready for me to object.

  “I love you,” I said.

  His chin dipped, eyelids dropping just a fraction. Closing the blinds so I wouldn’t see past them. He didn’t answer, and that, along with those shuttered eyes, told me everything I needed to know. My gut clenched, a voice inside screaming something was wrong, really wrong, something he didn’t want to tell me because I’d been in a good mood, and he wanted to leave me there.

  This was serious.

  This was about me.

  “Gabriel?” I said, struggling to keep my expression neutral.

  Not freaking out. Nope, not at all.

  “I love you,” he said. He didn’t add the “too.” He said it as if I hadn’t. His fingers brushed my cheek, moving aside hair no longer coiled there.

  “I love you, too,” I said. I forced a smile. “And if you’re trying to distract me from my question, you know that’s not going to—”

  “I would like to discuss Gregory Kirkman,” he said, as if he hadn’t realized I was speaking, lost in his own thoughts.

  “Okay,” I said. “But Ioan assured me—”

  “I would like to discuss the concern this raises,” he said. “Your father has done something that could send him back to prison. He is innocent of the crimes for which he was convicted, but this other issue lingers, and I believe we should address that.”

  “I agree.” I sat and twisted to face him. “I would like to discuss that. However well the Cwˆn Annwn hid Kirkman, this scare reminds us that the possibility exists.”

  “I would handle it.”

  “I’m not asking for—”

  “That’s what I wanted to say. That I am prepared for the possibility, and I would handle it. First, let me point out a discovered body would by no means implicate your father. He knew Kirkman from working with him on a job. They were not friends. Outside of that job, he had no contact with the man prior to the incident. Todd told no one he was going to that forest. Told no one what he suspected. He did not leave a trail of any kind, and forensic evidence would be long gone. In short, I cannot imagine that he would even be questioned in Kirkman’s death, should the man’s body be found.”

  “I know.”

  Gabriel exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath. “Good. Now, to take it farther and cover all eventualities, let’s imagine he is not only questioned but arrested and put on trial. I would be there. I would defend him. I would…I would fix this.”

  At that last hesitation, his shoulders squared, as if reassuring not only me but himself. Yes, I have this. Yes, I could do this. Never fear. I will fix it for you, Olivia.

  “I don’t need you to do that,” I said. “But thank you. You did everything in your power to get my father out. If anything—” I cleared my throat, covering the hitch in my voice. “If anything happened now, I know you’d do your best, and I’d know that nothing—nothing—is guaranteed. Todd did what he did. We understand why. A court would not. I accept that. So does he.”

  Gabriel nodded, and I thought I’d said exactly the right thing, but his gaze went distant again, and his nod continued a little too long.

  “Gabriel? If you’re worrying, then I appreciate that, too, but you’re right. They’re not going to find Kirkman and even if they did—”

  “They have.”

  He blurted the words and then looked horrified. He didn’t take them back, though. Didn’t apologize or stammer out an explanation. This was Gabriel. He realized his mistake, took two seconds to regroup, and followed through.

  “The body is almost certainly Gregory Kirkman’s. He had identification. His social security card.”

  “Then someone planted it on another body. Or there’s been a mistake. Ioan buried Kirkman miles away from that spot.”

  “Yes. I know, and I’m not questioning that. But I went to the site. I know the detective in charge, and I was there with the bodies.”

  “Bodies? Plural?”

  “They also found what appears to be the skeletal remains of Kirkman’s last victim, only a few yards from where he was buried.”

  “But that’s—that’s not what happened. That isn’t possible.” I got to my feet and began to pace. “The Cwˆn Annwn buried Kirkman miles away. They wouldn’t have left him with his ID. And a social security card? Not a driver’s license or health insurance or credit card?”

  Gabriel said nothing. He was waiting for me to work it through, to come to the obvious conclusion, no matter how far-fetched.

  When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

  I turned to Gabriel. “How was he found?”

  I knew the answer to this. Once you put everything else together, there was only one rational explanation. I still asked, and he said e
xactly what I expected.

  “The police received an anonymous tip.”

  “More than a tip, right? They got instructions for where to dig.”

  “Yes, the tip was very specific. The ground had been disturbed. The police believe the call may have come from the repentant killer. Or perhaps a repentant accomplice—someone who knew the body was there, went looking, and called once they’d found him.”

  “Meaning someone moved his body from where the Cwˆn Annwn left it. Disturbing the soil, allegedly to confirm Kirkman was there, would cover up the relocation of the body, at least to the casual eye. The ID card was planted. Someone had it—or found it—and left it with the body.”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “So my father is released from prison, and a day later, his one actual victim is unearthed and reported to the police. Someone’s setting Todd up. He’ll be connected to Kirkman’s murder and arrested and—”

  “Not necessarily,” Gabriel said. “This isn’t a human looking for revenge. It must be fae, which means it isn’t about justice. It never is with them.”

  “It’s manipulation. It’s the threat of putting him back in prison. Leverage. We need to get ahead of it.”

  “We are ahead of it,” Gabriel said. “Now we need to stay there.”

  Ten

  Olivia

  Gabriel and I talked for the next hour. My panic passed; I’d moved back to the sofa, lying on his lap as we worked through it. He was right. No human knew where to find that body or how it connected to my father. A fae moved it, and now they’d hold that threat over us in return for a favor. Of course.

  We were Matilda and Gwynn, and we were still navigating that. We needed to strike a balance between using it to our advantage and not being taken advantage of. We weren’t just humans—we were young humans. To the fae, that was like having a child crowned queen without any vice-regent to guide her. The perfect pawn to exploit.

  I could bitch to the elders about this—See what a shitty position I’m in, for your sake—but in truth, Gabriel and I reveled in it. We’d get what we could out of the arrangement. Making sure the balance stayed in our favor only added challenge.

  Earlier, Gabriel had assured me that if my father was arrested, he’d “fix” it, but this was where it could be fixed. Before any arrest. We knew what was happening. We were prepared for our fae opponent’s next move. It would be an anonymous e-mail or a newspaper left on our step, someone calling attention to the discovery of Kirkman’s body. The fae involved would sit back and let us stew and work ourselves into a frenzy. Then they’d make contact with the offer. Oh, hey, about that body—I know your dad did it, Matilda, but I’ll keep that to myself, in return for…

  In return for refuge in Cainsville.

  In return for an audience with the Cwˆn Annwn.

  In return for one million dollars.

  The last was unlikely—fae traded in favors and favor—but it could happen. It didn’t matter. We knew what was coming and only had to sit tight and wait.

  I was rising to refill my wineglass when I noticed the parlor window darkening as night fell. I checked my watch and scrambled up. “Todd went for a walk after dinner. Two hours ago.”

  “I thought I heard him in the kitchen. He may have come back and heard us talking.”

  That made sense, and someone was in the kitchen—TC, chowing down. Otherwise, the lower floor was shrouded in darkness, lights out. I flicked them on as I walked.

  “Dad?” I called.

  I jogged up to his bedroom. The door creaked open when I knocked. Empty. I clambered back down the stairs as the patio door whooshed.

  I exhaled in relief and strode into the kitchen only to find Gabriel locking the sliding door.

  “I thought he might be out there,” Gabriel said. “But I’m sure it’s fine. The elders probably stopped him to talk. I’ll give him a call, though.”

  He was already on his phone. Before I could say anything, Todd’s phone in the front hall rang.

  “He left it behind,” I said. “I saw it, but I didn’t want to make a big deal. Damn it. I should have gone after him.”

  Gabriel squeezed my elbow as he passed. “If he’s been waylaid, it’s by a curious resident. No one will harm him here, Olivia.”

  He said this as he continued to the front door, where he picked up his loafers. Reassuring me that all was fine…while getting his shoes, knowing I would not be content to sit and drink my wine and trust my father was okay.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  His glance asked, For what? and I just smiled as he tugged on a loafer. Then I pulled on my sneakers and followed him out.

  Gabriel and I separated. This was, as he said, Cainsville. No need for us to stick side by side. No need for me to bring my gun along, either. In preparation for Todd’s arrival, Veronica had put extra wards on the town, which she said guaranteed no fae would slip in undetected. The wards required too much energy to run all the time, but they were on this week. Trespassing fae would be spotted by the owls or the gargoyles. Yes, gargoyles.

  For me, the disappearing gargoyles had been Cainsville’s greatest mystery. The elders—Ida in particular—had held that answer out to me as a carrot. As soon as I agreed to be their Matilda, I’d discovered the truth about the gargoyles. When I did, it was like solving the mystery of Santa Claus, truly one of the biggest disappointments in my life.

  As a child, I drove my parents crazy asking how Santa delivered to every child in one night. My dad said that when I was older, he’d tell me, and I’d lived for that day when I expected he’d reveal some combination of science and magic that answered all my questions. Then I learned the truth. No magic. Not even science. Just parents creating stories for their children.

  The gargoyles were magic and science combined. I’d give them that much. They were stone guardians that functioned as a magical alert system. The eyes of the elders, like the owls. Unlike the owls, they were stationary because, well, they were stone. They appeared and disappeared because the magic cast on them cost energy the fae couldn’t afford. Rather like powering a high-tech security system in an old house with bad wiring. Having me live in Cainsville would repair that wiring, but that took time.

  If Todd encountered a problem, it would come from a resident. Harassment, rather than actual danger.

  It turned out such fears were not unfounded. I was walking along a side street when I spotted Todd in one of the town’s many walkways, this one cutting behind the school. And he was indeed being harassed. By someone who didn’t belong in Cainsville. It was a blond guy less than half Todd’s age. A couple of inches taller than my father. Broad shoulders under a snug T-shirt. Muscular biceps, one bearing a tattoo. He wore heavy boots and had a leather jacket slung over one arm, and he pushed a Harley along as he bothered my poor father.

  When I saw him, I picked up my pace, ready to tell him to leave Todd alone. I also grinned. Grinned as any lingering anxiety floated away.

  Ricky was home, and seeing him felt the same as it always had when he’d been away. My steps lightened. My heart lightened, too, as a burst of pure joy sparked through me.

  When Ricky and I had been together, that initial joy at his return had, of course, given way to other thoughts of what his return portended. My boyfriend’s back, and I’m gonna get laid. Yet my first reaction had always been simple happiness at seeing him, at the return, not of my lover, but of my friend. Now, when Ricky comes home, I only get the first response.

  I’d forgotten Ricky was returning today. He’d texted while I’d been talking to Gabriel, and I’d meant to look at it once we were done, but then I’d forgotten in my worry over Todd. Ricky must have been telling me he’d landed and was heading over. He’d spotted Todd and stopped to walk with him.

  As I veered into the passageway, I grinned to myself and then backed out. They were strolling through an empty green-space, lined with trees, shadows stretching. Sneaking up on them would be incredibly immature. Also, incredibly fun.
>
  Staying behind a manicured spruce, I surveyed the playing field. If I backed out, I could loop along another way, jump out and give them a start. Yep, terribly immature. Which never stopped me.

  I took one last look around, making sure they wouldn’t see me when I came down the other passage. No, I’d be fine. Just back out and run—

  A shape moved in the greenery. I went still, narrowing my eyes. I saw nothing there. Just shrubs and shadows. Ricky’s voice drifted to me as he answered a question about the bike. He stopped and pointed something out on it, and Todd crouched for a better look.

  The shrubs rippled. I blinked and focused on the spot. Another ripple, and it seemed as if the air itself blurred.

  Fae.

  Several subtypes had the ability to blend with their surroundings. They couldn’t disappear altogether, but they took advantage of natural camouflage and tricked the human eye. If we knew they were there, though, we’d see the telltale haze, like the blurring I saw right now.

  I rolled my shoulders and pushed back sparks of alarm. We were in Cainsville. Of course, there were fae. One had been taking this passageway, maybe without a glamour, and rather than pull it back on, had blended into the shrubs to let Todd and Ricky pass. Or perhaps the fae had heard them coming and didn’t feel like chatting, and had literally faded into the background.

  Todd and Ricky started walking again. Todd said something, and Ricky laughed, and I glanced over at the sound. When I looked back to the fae’s hiding spot, that haze was gone. I squinted, studying the spot. Then I saw it again…on the move, following Todd and Ricky.

  They were ambling along, stopping as Ricky pointed out a half-hidden gargoyle. When they paused, that blur did, too.

  I slid along the shadows. Todd walked over to examine the gargoyle, which sat under a bush.