Rezso

by Kat Parrish

  I smiled back and replied in Russian, “When a crawfish whistles on a mountain,” which is another way of saying, “It ain’t gonna fucking happen.”

  The wolf inside me howled.

  Voin and I pounced as soon as we were in range.

  The wolf tore out Oleg’s throat before he could scream. I stared into my father’s face as he died and this time, I felt a surge of fierce joy. Despite Fee’s best efforts, I guess I still had some anger issues to work out.

  I found the boy in a room that had once been mine. He was lying on the narrow bed, curled up into a fetal ball. When he saw me, his eyes grew big with fear and he shrank back against the pillows. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said in English. And then I said the only word I know in the high fae tongue, “Friend.”

  His eyes flickered at the sound of a familiar word and he repeated it, his voice a sound like the noise an insect might make.

  I held out my hand to him and he came to me as obediently as a dog.

  The boy is sick, Voin observed.

  I wondered if the wolf was always so chatty. It was distracting.

  Fee can help him, I said.

  I like Fee, Voin said.

  So do I, I said.

  We got back to the safe house to find that Fee had packed up all her stuff and mine as well. Jon was on the wrecked sofa having a heated conversation on his phone with his brother. He saw me and ended the call. “Hey,” he said to the kid. “You ready to go?” he asked me.

  “Yep,” I said. “Can we get a ride to the airport?

  Jon smiled. “I can do better than that,” he said. “Mickey’s loaning you our helicopter.”

  “You’ve got a helicopter?” I said Of course, they have a helicopter.

  Jon smiled. “We have a submarine, too” he said. “But it’s in Dubai right now.”

  The drive to Van Nuys airport was relatively painless although rush hour traffic was starting to stack up. We pulled up to a nondescript hangar where a black and silver Bell 407 was parked.

  I was kind of disappointed at how corporate it looked.

  “Were you expecting an Apache gunship?” Jon said.

  “Kinda was,” I said. “Or maybe a Chinook. It would look badass with your logo painted on it.” We got out of Jon’s car and he introduced us to the pilot, whose name was Anna, and the co-pilot, her younger sister Max. Both of them wore sidearms and both of them looked like they knew how to use them.

  I carried the boy to the machine and belted him into one of the passenger seats. Fee took the seat next to him. I know she was worried about him. On the drive to the airport, he’d fallen into a deep sleep, almost as if he’d been drugged. Fee was fussing over him, but her magic didn’t seem to be helping. Maybe it only worked on humans.

  We took off and refueled in Redding and again in Portland. I was too anxious to read or play games and kept going over the events in my head. Every so often I’d glance back at Fee and she’d look up and smile at me.

  From the airport we took a taxi to my place and as I unlocked the gate, the dog showed up, followed closely by Trey, whose eyes went wide when he saw Fee and the boy.

  “Dude,” he said. And I might have told him not to call me fucking dude, but the dog had gone crazy at the sight of the boy, who started squirming in my arms. “Dog,” he said.

  I looked at Fee, whose whole face lit up.

  “Let him pet your dog,” she said to me, so I put the boy down gently.

  The dog slammed into him, nearly knocking him over and the boy laughed. It was a pure sound, like a bell ringing. He threw his spindly arms around the dog and held onto her like a life preserver and the dog’s tail swished back and forth so fast I thought she might take off.

  “Aine,” the boy said happily. “Aine. Aine.”

  The dog barked. The boy laughed and rolled around with her.

  I turned to Fee. “Aine?”

  “It’s Celtic,” she said. “Means ‘queen of the fairies.’”

  Trey was staring at the boy. “What is he, some kind of dog whisperer?” he asked, and he sounded a little jealous. The dog had never greeted him like that.

  “Something like that,” I said, feeling a little twinge of jealousy myself.

  We all watched the boy and his dog for a minute and then Fee called out to the dog. “Aine,” would you come here a moment?”

  The dog looked at the boy, as if for permission and he nodded.

  The dog trotted over to Fee and sat at her feet, waiting for a pet.

  Fee obliged, then she took the dog’s front right paw in her two fingers and closed her eyes.

  “What?” I said.

  “She broke a bone there and it’s been hurting her.” She held onto the paw a minute more and then petted the dog on her head again. The dog ran back to the boy like a puppy.

  Trey looked like he wanted to kneel in front of Fee and kiss her foot.

  “Did she just heal her?” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s her thing.”

  I knew I wouldn’t have to explain. Trey lives in a world of superheroes and video games. A witch with healing powers wasn’t going to faze him. “I’m Trey,” he said to her.

  “Ophelia,” she said. “Call me Fee.”

  “Your parents were Shakespeare fans?” he asked. Trey’s majoring in English and is kind of obnoxious about it.

  Fee wrinkled her perfect little nose. She looked adorable. Yeah, I’ve got it bad.

  “Yes,” she said. “I could just as easily have ended up named Gertrude.”

  “Or worse, I said. “Goneril or Sycorax.” Because I’ve taken a Shakespeare class or two myself and don’t want Trey to forget it.

  “Dude,” he said. Then he looked at the boy. “What’s your name?”

  The kid looked down at his feet. I looked at Fee. She shrugged helplessly. “They never gave him a name,” she said.

  “Fuck,” I said.

  “You swear a lot,” Trey said. “You shouldn’t do that around kids.”

  I started to say something but then decided he maybe had a point.

  I’m hungry, Voin said.

  After dinner Fee put her little bundle of clothes in my bedroom and she and Trey put new sheets on the bed in the guest room for the boy. Trey was following her around like a puppy. I hoped that wasn’t going to be a problem.

  The house felt a little stuffy after being shut up for a week, so I went out on the porch to get some air.

  The boy was sitting on the back steps, Aine next to him, staring at the patch of sunflowers growing against my back fence. I sat down beside him and instead of flinching away, he snuggled up against me. The gesture sent an unexpected feeling of tenderness through me.

  Poor little kid, I thought.

  Your pup needs a name, Voin said. I think we should call him Axl.

  “Axl,” I said out loud and the boy turned his head to look at me. “Axl,” I repeated and gestured to him.

  “Axl,” he parroted, and then he smiled.

  I felt Fee’s soft hand touch my shoulder as she settled on the step above me. “Trey’s gone home,” she said.

  “Good,” I said, and she laughed.

  “This is Axl,” I said to her, hugging the boy closer to me.

  “Hello Axl,” she said to him and from behind, she hugged us both. Her fingers were warm.

  How the fuck did I end up in the middle of a fucking Hallmark movie? I asked myself.

  Even a lone wolf needs a pack, Voin said.

  Also by Kat Parrish

  TALES OF THE REALM

  Bride of the Midnight King

  Daughter of the Midnight King

  The Midnight Queen

  Tears of Idrissa

  L.A. NOCTURNE

  Misbegotten

  Rezso

  Tales of the Misbegotten

  LA BRUJA ROJA

  Magic in the Blood

  Santa Muerte (2019)

  The Blood Rose (2019)

  Z SISTERS

  Bloo
dsport

  Bloodtrail (2019)

  Bloodmoney (2019)

  L.A. Nocturne: Tales of the Misbegotten

  The Howl

  The Summer Garden

  About the Author

  Kat Parrish is a former reporter who prefers making things up. She is a fan of fairy tales, a lover of lost languages, and a Shakespeare geek. One day she hopes to combine all three in a single story in a literary version of Einstein’s “Theory of Everything” but with paranormal creatures. She lives in the Pacific Northwest in walking distance of a haunted cemetery.

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