Wild Hunger

by Chloe Neill

  She walked down the hall, and we waited for the guard to open the door. Two more stood inside—one human, one vampire.

  “We need to ask her some questions,” I said. “And she might not talk with you here. Can you give us a few minutes?”

  The human looked at the vampire, who nodded. “We’ll be outside.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you.”

  Then the door closed behind us, leaving us in silence.

  The room was small, with pale walls and wood floors. There was a simple wooden bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a bookshelf. Doors that led to a bathroom and closet. Most rooms had the same layout. Simple accommodations for the Cadogan vampires who chose to live in the House.

  Claudia lay in the bed in the same dress we’d brought her in. She was still pale, but her color seemed to have evened out a little.

  Her eyes opened. She looked at me. “You brought me from the church.”

  “We did. You’re in Cadogan House. Ruadan attempted to depose you. He’s trying to bring the green land to Chicago.”

  Her eyes opened wide and she tried to sit up, but her arms had been tied to the bed with leather restraints. If she were stronger, I suspected she’d be able to use magic to unbuckle them.

  “They cannot.”

  “They are,” I said. “They’ve shifted it here, or parts of it, into two places in the city.”

  “No,” she said with desperation, and dropped her head again. “Bringing it here will not cause it to thrive. I have told him so many times.”

  “What do you mean, it won’t thrive?” Theo asked.

  “The green land should not exist here. It exists only in its realm. While that realm has touched the human world before, it is to be separate. It should remain so.”

  She turned her head to look at us. “If you are speaking true, he has done a great wrong. Pulling the realm into this world stretches the warp and weft of our world and of yours. If that fabric is pulled too hard, it will tear. A hole will be wrought, and place and time will mix.” She swallowed hard. “That cannot be allowed. You must convince him.”

  “I don’t think they’re going to be open to what we have to say.” Theo’s voice was dry.

  “Make them understand. Keep the world as it is. Keep the green land hidden away. That is the only way you will save your city.”

  “How do we do that, Claudia?” I asked. “Help us save your people.”

  But her lips went tight.

  “You’ll tell us they’re creating a danger,” I said, “but you won’t help us stop them?”

  “They are mine,” she said, and turned her head away. “Helping their destruction would be treachery and betrayal.”

  “They will destroy the green land,” I said quietly.

  “You are a bloodletter,” she muttered. “You would lie.”

  “I’m a bloodletter who saved your life,” I reminded her, and then recalled how much fairies loved bargains. “I am owed a boon.”

  She looked at me, and there was ferocity in her face. Her cheekbones sharper, her lips thinner, her eyes a void of darkness. Not just a beautiful queen or frail regent. But a creature of magic and power and terror.

  “The Ephemeris,” she said, looking away again as if disgusted by her weakness. “He found it . . . in the green land. It tells of the rivers of magic, and how to make use of them.”

  And then her eyes closed again.

  * * *

  • • •

  “The mayor will be instituting an immediate relocation of Chicago residents,” Yuen said when he returned. “Beginning with the neighborhoods closest to the . . . we’ll call them intrusion sites. Centers for those displaced will be established using the protocols established during Sorcha’s attack. The Illinois National Guard will be called in.”

  “The Pack may also be helpful,” my father said. “Or what remains of it. And the other Masters may be able to assist with the relocation efforts. They also have experience in large-scale disruptions.”

  “We’ll contact them,” Yuen agreed. “Can you work with the delegates?”

  “We will,” my father said. “We can house any who wish to stay here, and assist those who want to return to Europe.”

  And no need to discuss the city’s prior agreement with Cadogan, I thought, because the Houses are already involved in the peace talks.

  “Riley should be released,” I said, gesturing toward the monitor, which still showed images of the grassy LSD. “It’s obvious this is bigger than him, that he was set up by the fairies.”

  “I’ve talked to the prosecutor. They aren’t willing to release him, because there’s still no physical evidence linking the murder to anyone else. For the moment, we have to focus on the fairies. They don’t get to destroy Chicago, and they don’t get to send its people into magical exile.”

  He looked at Theo. “Where are we on that?”

  “Right this way,” Theo said, and gestured for us to follow him to the conference table, where a thin, open box held a stack of thick paper sheets with illuminated letters, careful script, and small sketches. “Claudia told us Ruadan found the Ephemeris in the green land. Turns out, the Ephemeris is a book currently stored in the National Library of Ireland. This is a facsimile of the pages from the Cadogan library. Which is impressive,” Theo added, with a smile for my father.

  “What kind of book?” my mother asked, leaning forward.

  “A fairy almanac,” Theo said. “The information ranges from the basic—building charms, coordinating magic with phases of the moon, understanding natural signs—to the complex.” He flipped through the pages to a sheet with a simple drawing of what looked like rivers winding through a forest.

  “We don’t have any experts in the language of fairies in house other than Claudia, and she’s unconscious again. But this appears to be an explanation of ley lines and how to use them.”

  “There are a lot of steps,” Petra said. “Charms and steps and procedures.”

  “Anything about the green land?” Yuen asked.

  “Not that we can tell without a full translation,” Theo said. “Ruadan must have figured that out on his own.”

  “Or he could have been pulling information from Claudia incrementally,” I said quietly. “Waiting for his moment.”

  “And when she didn’t do what Ruadan wanted at the peace talks,” Theo said, “he decided the fairies needed a different approach.”

  “I don’t know if all the other fairies agree with him, but he has at least some allies,” I said with a nod. “The fairy who killed Tomas. The fairies who got Claudia into the vehicle and guarded her at the church. The fairies who supported him at the castle and Grant Park.”

  “To summarize,” Theo said, counting on his fingers, “Ruadan learned how to manipulate ley lines and tossed away his queen, and is trying to use those ley lines to tug the green land into this world. He hasn’t yet nailed the process, or what he believes the process to be, and his failures and successes are dangerous to the rest of us.” He looked up. “What do we do about it?”

  At that, the room went silent.

  “Can we bomb it?” Petra asked.

  We all looked at her.

  “I’m not being bloodthirsty,” she said in her slightly kooky, matter-of-fact way. “Okay, maybe a little bloodthirsty, although I think that’s appropriate and deserved right now. Is there some way we can bomb the green land and not have it affect Chicago?”

  “This is outside my expertise,” Yuen said, “but if the green land and the missing parts of Chicago are still linked by the bubble, so to speak, I would think an explosion would affect both.”

  “Could we take out the fairies working the magic?” Theo asked.

  “I think that presents the same problem,” Petra said. “You take them out while the magic is in play, and you risk making things worse. Sealing off
the bubble, putting the green land here permanently.”

  “So, what do we do?” I asked.

  Silence fell again.

  After a moment, Yuen looked at my father. “I believe there was some mention of a library?”

  * * *

  • • •

  It was my mother’s favorite room in the House, the two-story library where Cadogan’s collection of vampire law books, magical history, and modern fiction was stored. The first floor had long rows of books and space for library tables, where I knew my parents had plotted some of their escapades. A wrought-iron balcony made up the second floor, where more books were stored.

  A face, handsome and topped by a messy thatch of dark hair, popped out from an aisle, gave me a narrow-eyed stare. “No food, no beverages.”

  The Librarian was picky about his books.

  “We don’t have any food or beverages.”

  He gave us a head-to-toe looking-over. “Good,” he said, then winked at me. “Nice to see you, Elisa.” Then he disappeared back into the stacks.

  I looked back at Petra, who stared, openmouthed, at the room.

  “Reference books about sups are over there,” I said, pointing to the several rows in the first floor’s back corner. “So grab a table and get to reading, and let’s figure out how to stop these people.”

  They nodded, and Petra wandered into the books with huge, glazed eyes.

  “I always end up in Ravenclaw,” I murmured, and headed in.

  * * *

  • • •

  Two hours later, Theo was working with Yuen on the relocation, Petra was back at the Ombudsman’s office, and I needed a break.

  I pushed back the stack of books and scrubbed my hands over my eyes.

  I’d worked through two dozen books, learned about wee folk, hidden people, fairy courts, and fairy hills. I’d read about the fairies’ expulsion from Europe, mostly in response to fairies using their cunning to fool unsuspecting humans—to lure them into thorny woods, seduce away their secrets, or switch a healthy human child for the sick child of a fairy.

  Unfortunately, none of it had helped me come up with a plan to reverse what was happening now.

  I was tired, physically and emotionally. I’d fought a literal battle tonight, and my energy was gone. I needed blood and sleep, and I didn’t want to leave Lulu unprotected in case the green land spread farther north and west.

  So I said my goodbyes, agreed to meet the Ombudsmen at their office at dusk, and took an Auto back to the loft, stopping for blood along the way.

  I found Lulu asleep on the couch, Eleanor of Aquitaine curled at her feet. The cat opened a single eye as I passed, closed it again quickly enough. I assumed that meant I wasn’t enough of an enemy now to merit a full growl, which I considered an improvement.

  I walked to my spare room, found a coloring book featuring a pretty pink fairy with her hair in a bun, her wings shimmering with holographic stickers, propped on the pillow, topped by a paint-smeared sticky note.

  “Maybe this will help,” it said.

  I snorted, pushed the coloring book aside, and fell into bed.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I’d slept through what I assumed was a day of horror, so I pulled out my screen as soon as the sun set again and checked the latest video feed.

  There was another green-land bubble in Lincoln Park, and the two existing sites—United Center and Lake Shore Drive—were complete hills and valleys of green.

  Evacuation across the city was under way, humans streaming out of high-rises, carrying children and suitcases, purses and laptops, trying to escape before the fairies’ wall of green overtook the rest of the city. And because the evacuees were mostly human, there was traffic, looting, and marching against supernaturals.

  Not that I could entirely blame them.

  I got dressed and walked into the loft. And there she was.

  Lulu Bell, whom I’d known since the day she was born, leaned against the island in a T-shirt, running shorts, and sneakers. And she was stretching out her calves.

  “What the hell is this?”

  She jerked and looked back. “Shit. I was hoping I’d beat you out the door.”

  “I thought we agreed running was only appropriate if someone was chasing you.”

  She sighed dramatically. “It’s probably time for a full confession. I’ve been running for two years now.”

  I narrowed my gaze.

  “I’ve run four half-marathons since you’ve been gone.”

  “How dare you?”

  She grinned, adjusted the laces on one shoe. “I also own a skort.”

  “You monster.”

  “Running’s not all bad, Lis,” she said, and began to bounce from foot to foot to warm up. “Just because your mother dragged you to a 5K once upon a time.”

  “It was eight 5Ks and it was ridiculous.”

  She winked at me. “I’ve run twelve.”

  I threw up my hands.

  Living together was going to be a test of our relationship.

  * * *

  • • •

  I grabbed a banana and a cup of the coffee Lulu had left when she went for her run, and called an Auto to the Ombudsman’s office. By the time I’d grabbed my katana and made it downstairs, the vehicle was waiting at the curb.

  I jumped in automatically. And it wasn’t until I’d belted myself into the front passenger seat that I saw I wasn’t alone.

  The fairy who’d killed Tomas, who I recognized from the surveillance video, sat in the usually empty driver’s seat, checking the point of a lethal-looking dagger.

  My heart began to piston.

  “He wishes to see you,” the fairy said. “Resist, and you’ll become intimately acquainted with my blade. I’m sure you know by now that I’m very good with it.”

  Before I could respond, a fairy outside the car grabbed my katana, and before I could launch myself after him, kicked the door closed. Then we were speeding away.

  * * *

  • • •

  The Auto’s screen showed the destination: We were headed back to the castle. The fairies must have figured I’d take a car this morning, and had hacked my system to give it a new destination.

  But I wasn’t sure why. If Ruadan wanted to take me out, there were easier and faster ways to do it. I thought of the covetous look in his eyes, the consideration and interest, and a dark and heavy fear settled in my belly. Not even the monster could push through that.

  I had to ignore it, to ignore emotions, and think how to get out of this.

  I considered trying to force my way out of the car, trying to survive a rolling stop outside it. But assuming I could do that on crowded streets without killing myself or someone else, I’d still be weaponless and facing down fairies.

  Trying to free myself at the castle seemed like my best option. I knew the building relatively well now, and I’d hopefully be able to use that to my advantage. And given I was supposed to be at the Ombudsman’s office, it seemed likely someone would eventually figure out I was gone.

  Until then, self-rescue. And hope that I wouldn’t have to gnaw off an arm.

  The gate was open, the castle dark. The Auto drove over the gravel path, even though it was too narrow for a vehicle, and came to a stop outside the gatehouse.

  “Out,” Tomas’s murderer said, dagger pointed at me as another fairy opened the door and pulled me out. Three more, this time with a mix of guns and blades, waited.

  He strode toward the building, and I followed, the rest of the fairies walking behind us with weapons pointed. I needed a weapon of my own.

  The gatehouse was dark and empty, but the doors into the courtyard were open and light streamed through—along with the prickle of fairy magic.

  Ruadan stood in the yard with several dozen fairies. This time, instead of the V format
ion they’d taken at Grant Park, they stood in a long, straight line that cut across the courtyard, and probably traced the ley line that ran below it.

  They’d abandoned the castle because they’d thought they could bring the green land here from Grant Park. And when that hadn’t worked, they’d come back to the castle to try again.

  Firelight from the torches they’d reinstalled shifted across their bodies as they waited to work their magic. They were in tunics, although like the fairies outside, some had switched their blades and bows for guns. I guess they weren’t so concerned about being authentic anymore.

  “She’s here,” Tomas’s murderer said as one of the fairies behind me pushed me forward.

  Ruadan turned and looked at me, and the excitement in his eyes made my skin crawl.

  “Kidnapping is illegal,” I said. “You have no right to hold me here.”

  “I don’t think you’ll want to walk away.” He walked forward, arrogance in his stride, and looked down at me, the scent of green decay lifting in the air with his movements.

  “Trust me,” I said. “I want to walk away.”

  “Not when you learn of my plan. It was you who inspired it, after all.”

  That made the knot in my belly flip over. “What?”

  “You see, bloodletter, the magic is old and complex, and the ley lines are not strong enough. The rivers not nearly deep enough to accomplish our goal.”

  “To bring the green land here.”

  “To bring the green land alive,” he corrected. “There is a finite supply of magic in the world. Fairies used to control much of it, but the world changed. Djinn. Demons. Vampires. Shifters. Goblins, even the elves, who share some of our biology. More creatures, but no more magic. And we suffer because of it.”

  “You can’t destroy Chicago because your magic has faded. That’s not our fault.”

  He spun around, and his eyes had gone to angry slits. “Then whose fault is it if not yours? Humans’?” He gave a considering nod. “Maybe. So we take from them.”