Taken

by Claire Farrell

  “Keep out of it,” I warned. “Trust me. You don’t want to get wrapped up in this stuff.”

  “It’s good enough for you.”

  I held up my hand. “I’m not like you. And I was thrown into this unwillingly. I can’t explain anything in a way you would understand. Hell, I don’t even understand a lot of it.”

  “But you understood her story. I watched you, your reactions to the story. You believed every word of it as truth, didn’t you?”

  I would have loved to learn the things he had seen, but I couldn’t drag anyone else into our mess. “I should find Peter,” I said instead.

  “I hope you aren’t dragging him into new delusions,” he said as I left. I hesitated, then kept on walking. He could think what he liked.

  Peter was back in the little pub, but he wasn’t having a shandy.

  “Give me your keys,” I said.

  He shook his head, but I was undeterred. “Keys, Peter.”

  “Give her the keys.”

  I cursed under my breath when I heard Shay’s voice behind me.

  “Your nan all right?” Peter asked him bitterly, handing the keys to me.

  “She’s old. There isn’t exactly a cure for that.”

  Peter smiled, but it was a tired smile. For the first time, I wondered if he was close to giving up on everything. Dread crept over me like a shawl made of ice.

  The three of us sat around a small table while Peter finished his drink. I expected to leave after that, but he stood and said, “I’m buying a round.”

  “I have to get him out of here,” I said, half to myself.

  “Let him have one or two,” Shay advised. “He’ll be easier to move.”

  “So you say. Why are you hanging around?”

  “I’m curious.” He shrugged. “I trust my gut, and my gut is telling me to keep an eye on you. What’s your story? How did you and Peter meet?”

  It was my turn to smile. “You don’t even want to know.”

  “Are you planning on asking any more questions?”

  I shrugged. “Kind of what we came here for.”

  “They don’t talk,” he warned. “Nan said they were silenced, and in a way, that’s true. They don’t trust outsiders, and they won’t tell you anything about themselves. Nan is different, but she isn’t particularly well. If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have known she could speak.”

  “It’s fine. We’re not going to pester her or anything.”

  “How about I do you a favour? I’ll ask around about kidnappings, see if anyone remembers anything. There are two villages close by I could visit as well. I’m from here, so they might talk to me. What do you say?”

  “We’ve been to those villages already.” I eyed him warily. “But why would you even do that?”

  “Because I want to know what you think is going on.” He picked up my mobile from the table before me and tapped in his number. He handed me his phone, and after a couple of second’s hesitation, I saved my own to his contact list.

  “Is it true? About the children?”

  He shrugged. “Old places die out. You need children to survive. It’s too rural here for modern families. They like the comforts town can bring them; that’s all. Nothing to do with gods or evil.”

  I wished that were true. But gods and evil had everything to do with the villages dying; I was sure of it. Peter returned, and I couldn’t speak to either of them honestly in front of the other, so I remained silent.

  Shay was right. After two more drinks, Peter was a lot more pliable, and I persuaded him to allow me to drive him home. Shay told me he would keep in touch, and if I hadn’t been so concerned for Peter, I might have felt a little flutter of anticipation at the tone of his voice.

  On the way home, Peter’s face was tight. A sudden fear that he somehow knew what Carl and I had done gripped me, but eventually, he asked, “What did you think?”

  I blew out a sigh of relief. “I think we need to talk to Eddie. He told me Ogham was one of his gods.”

  “Maybe. It sounded to me like she was talking ‘bout the gates of Hell opening.”

  “Stop it. It’s a story.”

  “Only something like you can do that.”

  Something.

  “Daimhín told me she had someone like me killed before, although that was back when they were calling me a daywalker. But I’m pretty sure she knew what I really was, even then. She said her maker owned one, but they killed him,” I rattled on, unable to stop. The quiet feeling had disappeared, I realised.

  Peter glanced at me. “You okay?”

  I nodded, pressing my lips together as tight as possible, refusing to allow even one number an escape.

  “I can’t stop thinking about the water,” he said. “Gods bathing, special children. What does it all mean?”

  I had my suspicions. I remembered a conversation with Daimhín about how she didn’t crave Yvonne’s blood and how humans had once been bred for certain things. Maybe the water had been some kind of protection. Maybe the after-effects were still showing years later. Anything was possible. I was scared to see how true that was.

  “Where did your son’s family originally come from?” I asked. “Yvonne and… everyone?”

  He gave me a funny look. “They lived in Dublin their whole lives.”

  “I meant… their ancestors. Never mind.”

  He cleared his throat. “You’re probably wondering about Shay.”

  “Uh, yeah. I suppose I am.”

  “When… the night I lost my family, he was there. He’s a Garda and was on call that night. He sort of looked out for me, went a bit easier on me than the rest. He was good to me when he didn’t have to be. Went above and beyond, you know?”

  I nodded. “Sounds like a nice person.”

  “He is. He’s decent. I liked him a lot, but when I went off the rails, I kept away from him. I didn’t want to drag him down with me.” He shrugged, acting nonchalant, but I could see beyond his words, and I discovered a newfound respect for Shay.

  But all thoughts of Shay and Peter’s friendship flew out of my head with one phone call from Esther. “He did it,” she said excitedly.

  “Who did what?”

  “Robbie… the hacker... he made a breakthrough on one of the codes. He’s this close to getting a name.”

  “That’s great,” I said, but I found it hard to get excited after hearing from Shay’s nan. Plenty about the story made me uncomfortable, and I knew I had to get to the truth, one way or another. But first, we needed to put a face to the potential name that Esther’s hacker had come up with. It was beginning to look like the easiest part of the job.

  Chapter Nine

  Shay called me with an entire lack of news from Kerry. “I heard a couple of versions of the same story Nan told us. But most didn’t know the tales. I told you, they’re a quiet people.”

  “They’ve been silenced,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Listen, thanks for asking around. We would have just wasted our time. How’s your nan?”

  “Cold,” he said sharply. “She’s been deteriorating for a while now, but she refuses to move out of that cottage. The draught alone should have killed her by now.”

  “She’s strong,” I said, remembering how she had told the story regardless of whatever kept people silent in her village.

  “Runs in the family,” he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. “Is Peter okay?”

  “Probably not, but that’s Peter.”

  Silence on the other end, then, “If you need help with him ever, even if he just needs a good kick up the arse, let me know.”

  I laughed. “I will. Thanks.”

  We exchanged a few pleasantries that were particularly awkward, at least on my part, but Shay was so warm and friendly that he could hold the conversation all by himself. Then, we hung up without further promises to stay in touch.

  The following evening, Robbie the Hacker finally came up with a name─Ben O’Hallor
an. Esther came straight to my house to tell me face to face, but we couldn’t get in touch with Peter. He was distancing himself again, and I didn’t know how to stop him.

  “Human?” I asked as I stared at the name.

  She shrugged. “Maybe. ’Cause of the surname. Robbie is still checking our records, just in case. There are some humans in there.”

  “Like Peter and Carl?”

  “That’s classified.” But her grin confirmed it.

  I had already told Esther about our trip to Kerry, but I wondered if Shay could be of any help in his official capacity. I hadn’t expected to ask him for help again, at least not so soon. I texted him with the name and asked if there was any way to find the person.

  He rang me back almost immediately. “Are you talking about Moses?”

  “Moses? Huh?”

  “It’s his nickname. When he was small-time, he was called Bennie. Then he set out on his own, and now they call him Moses.”

  “Small time what exactly?”

  “Drug dealing, mostly. Let’s just say he’s well-known in Dublin. I haven’t come across him in a while, but I can check for you. Is there some reason I should know about?”

  “Just following a lead.”

  “I can’t see what Moses would have to do with Peter, but I’m intrigued to find out.”

  I laughed. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

  He texted me again later that night with an address strangely close to the warehouse Peter and I had pretty much broken into recently. More circles. He also sent me a warning to be careful.

  Shay baffled me. Why was he helping us so easily? Maybe he had reached the point where he didn’t care anymore, where he had to feel as though he were making some kind of difference, no matter how small.

  Esther didn’t care about Shay’s warnings to be careful. She didn’t even ask why a Garda might be helping me. No surprise at all. That made me wonder if the police were helping the Guardians. Or at least some of them. That made a certain kind of sense, especially after Shay’s frustration over how he had been hindered in his investigations. But was he blocked to keep the supernatural world a secret or because powerful people were involved in the incidents?

  “We’ll be fine,” Esther reassured me the following day. “Me and you together. We’ll go and have a few words. That’s all.”

  Something squirmed in the pit of my stomach. Nothing was ever that simple.

  Late afternoon, we got to the block of flats that held Ben O’Halloran’s most recent abode. The place looked different in daylight. When Peter and I had passed it in the dark, it had seemed dangerous. Sunlight made it sort of lifeless.

  Dead eyes watched us as we climbed the dark stairwell that smelled of piss and sex. The flats were compressed together, too many people packed in one building, and the sounds of their heartbeats overwhelmed me. My other sense saw a mass of energies as we made our way to our destination.

  We paused outside the door. Number 66. Perfectly wrong. I tried not to look at it.

  Esther threw her shoulders back, cleared her throat, and rapped on the door. Music filtered through an open window, and for a minute, I thought nobody was coming. After another, more impatient, knock, an old woman answered the door and eyed us warily when we asked for Ben.

  “Moses,” I added, and she nodded.

  She made us wait outside for long moments before beckoning us in. We stepped right into a room where music was blaring. A teenage girl slept off what were probably the effects of the night before, if the black smudging around her eyes was any indication, on a tiny sofa also occupied by two men, while another held court on a leather recliner as if he were King of the Flats. He was chubby, with light brown hair, wicked brown eyes, and a dimple that belied the coldness in his expression.

  “Ladies,” he said, smiling at the man standing next to his chair. The man lit a joint and handed it over.

  “You Moses?” Esther asked, and he took in her figure with exaggerated appreciation, smacking his lips around the rollup.

  He took the joint out of his mouth, still eyeing Esther. “I am. And who the fuck are you?”

  Esther glanced at me, but I shrugged, letting her deal with him.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m here about Illeana,” she said.

  He coughed and made a shooing motion with his hands. “Everyone out.”

  The man who had fired the joint carried the sleeping girl away, and she didn’t stir.

  “She okay?” I asked.

  “Fuck her.” He waited until everyone had left, the last one closing the door.

  I relaxed slightly. One chubby git wasn’t too dangerous.

  But the look in his eyes said differently. “What about Illeana?”

  “You know her.” Esther stared at Moses, unflinching.

  “Yeah. Fine thing that she is.” He grinned, but it was all bravado. A line of sweat rolled down his temple as he took a deep drag of the joint.

  “She’s dead,” Esther said. “How did you know her?”

  “Are you… like her?” He peered at both of us curiously.

  “We’re different. Think fangs and claws,” I said.

  He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. “I didn’t kill her.”

  “As if you could,” Esther scoffed.

  His eyes grew colder. “D’ya know who I am, love?”

  “We don’t give a fuck who you are,” I said. “We just want to know how you knew Illeana.”

  “I’m legit here,” he said, gesturing at the room. “I’m selling for one of your crowd, all right? Illeana checked up on us every now and then.” He licked his lips. “Always enjoyed her little visits, if you know what I mean.”

  Esther leaped at him, her fingers digging into his throat before he could blink. “No. I don’t know what you mean,” she hissed.

  He choked out a word, but he couldn’t speak with her hands constricting him, so I pulled her back. She smoothed her hair and waited for his response.

  He glanced at us warily, seeming to finally understand who had the upper hand. Swallowing hard a number of times as he adjusted his T-shirt, he nodded as if agreeing with himself. “Look, I’ll tell you everything I know, but it’s not a lot. She asked me questions, and she had an arse on her like a peach, so I gave her the answers. That’s all. There’s no story here.”

  “What questions? Who are you dealing for?” I was fuming. Supernaturals even had their fingers in the drugged pies.

  “If you don’t know, then I ain’t saying. Threaten me all you like. Can’t be worse than what I’d get for telling. People are relying on me here. I can’t be seen to snitch, or they’re all dead. I liked the chick. So I gave her a name.”

  “What name? Why?” Esther bared her teeth a little, and I inched away in case she went grizzly on his arse.

  “She was asking about slave labour, yeah? People trafficking, sex slaves, stuff like that. I’ve had a few crossover deals, so I got her in touch with the bloke I knew. If anyone’s moving people, he knows about it. She said she’d contact him. As far as I know, she did. She hasn’t been back since. I didn’t know she was dead; I swear it.”

  “Did she ask you about children?”

  “She just wanted to know about who to go to if you wanted to transport a few living bodies. I’ve had to do a lot of shit over the years, and I’ve come across every shade of creep there is. I knew what she was asking, and I gave her the answers. Not my problem what happened next.”

  “We need names, too,” I said.

  “I’m not giving you any fucking names. I don’t know you. Either of you. The other one earned an answer.” He turned and leered at Esther. “But if you get down on your knees, I might be persuaded.”

  I smacked him across the head. “Give me the name, or I’ll rip out your fucking throat, you little twat. Filling your own neighbourhood with drugs. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  He stared at me, stunned. “You’ve got it wrong. I’m giving them jobs. What else do they
have? Have you even seen this place? There’s nothing here. Nothing.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m giving them protection. You don’t understand. Nobody can touch them as long as we do what we’re told. The people in the flats? Most of them don’t even know that. They just think I’m your average scumbag. But I’ve seen some crazy shit, and I know what’s out there. Dealing is better than letting them be fucking… fucking zombie food or whatever.”

  “So you’re scared.”

  “I’m not fucking scared!” Spittle flew from his mouth, and he got to his feet in a rage. “I have no fucking choice, you little cunt. We’re surrounded by these fuckers. They won’t leave us alone. They know we’re already fucked. The rest of the world doesn’t give a shit what happens down here. So we adjust, and we fit in, and we do whatever the hell we can to survive. I’m doing the best I can with what I have, and trust me, it’s a lot better than what came before me.”

  “You’re pathetic,” Esther sneered.

  But I felt his passion and fear. I felt what he wasn’t saying. “We could help you. She’s got a voice. We could get rid of them.”

  “You can’t get rid of things that have been here since before we were. We’ll never get rid of them, so we have to live next to them, wherever they say we can live, and let them push us around.” He sat back down, chest heaving.

  “There’s a warehouse nearby,” I pointed toward the west. “I was there recently. Lots of alien-looking creatures in there. Are they the ones bothering you?”

  “The brethni? Nah, they’re no bother. They work for us if we need them to. Besides, they have even less rights than we do. Those lads are grand. Good workers. No messing around, no touching up the girls and causing trouble. Look, this has gone on long enough. If you’re seen─”

  “We’ll go if you do for us what you did for Illeana. Set us up.” Esther’s voice had softened.

  He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

  “I work for the most powerful people out there,” she said. “I can help you if it comes to that. But you have to help me first.”

  He moved to the window. “I’ll try. I’ll talk to him, but I’m not promising anything.”