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Once Upon a Changeling

Page 6

by V. J. Chambers


  Puck went on a long rant about the state of affairs in Faerie. She said that for too long those in power had resorted to brutal and bloody tactics to augment their magic, and she wasn’t about to let it keep happening. She was dead opposed to sacrifices, and she was sick of doing peaceful demonstrations with other like-minded faeries. Protests didn’t change anything. This way, she was going to make a real difference. She was going to keep the Korrigan Queen from being able to sacrifice a human child. If I thought I could stand in her way, I was wrong. For me, this was just about saving somebody else’s baby, but for her it was about changing the world. So I needed to make sure that I didn’t mess this up. Because even if it wasn’t important to me, it was important to her.

  I assured her that it was important, and after a while she calmed down. It was funny, because up to now, I hadn’t really questioned why either Puck or Marcos was helping me out with this whole thing. I had assumed it was a mix of their being my friends and their wanting to have a little excitement in their lives solving this mystery. Now that I’d heard that Puck’s motives went a tad deeper, I sort of wondered if Marcos’ did. Not that I could really think of any other reasons Marcos might have to want to help me out. Marcos was a good guy. That was it.

  After school, I really wanted work to last forever, because I knew that as soon as I left work, I had to go to the vampire bar. Since I knew my parents wouldn’t understand where I was going and why, I had told them I was going to be working/covering the late shift, when I was actually off at 9:00. It also meant that Puck and I were on a tight schedule. I had to be back home by 11:30 at the latest. We just had to hope that our little trip to the bar didn’t last any longer than that. We had to get our information in two and half hours or less.

  I was nervous. True to my word, I was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. Puck picked me up in front of the Sub Stop as soon as my shift was over. She was wearing fishnets and two little black dresses, layered on top of each other. The dresses were rags—ripped nearly to shreds. But between the two of them, they managed to cover her up. Mostly. She looked good. I was too nervous to talk much on the way there, but after we parked and were walking over, I finally asked Puck if we had any sort of plan. Were we just going to walk up to people and ask if they were Fey or if they knew anything about changelings?

  Puck laughed. “No. The Fey hang out in a lounge in the back of the club. I can get us into the lounge. Once we’re in there, then yeah, our best bet is to just start asking questions.”

  That was the part that made me nervous. And I still wasn’t sure how Puck was going to get us into the bar without IDs. I guessed I was gonna find out pretty soon, because the entrance to the bar loomed ahead of us.

  The vampire bar was located in the basement of the same building that housed the Arkana Bank. Upstairs, it was business suits and power lunches. Downstairs, it was handcuffs and black leather. The entrance to the bar was a chain link fence. At night, the gate to the fence stood open, and someone waited by it to check ID and collect cover charges. In the day, the fence was locked, and the bar was closed. The bar did not open until sunset, meaning that it had different hours in the winter than it did in the summer, when there was more daylight. On the other side of the fence, concrete steps descended down into the depths of the bar. Tonight, a Billy Idol wannabe was perched at the gate. His hair was white blond and spiked, and his skin was nearly as pale as his hair. He popped his cigarette out of his mouth and blew smoke in our faces. “ID?”

  Puck reached into her purse and came out with a clenched fist. She slowly opened it and blew into her palm. Glittering particles lifted off her hand and onto the doorman. He breathed it. His eyes went glossy. “Well,” he said. “Go on in now.”

  Puck smiled at me and pulled me down the steps.

  “What was that?” I whispered to her.

  “Pixie dust,” she said. “Now come on.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “Pixie dust?”

  “Uh huh,” she said, tugging on my arm.

  “Wait, what does it do exactly? Did you hurt that guy?”

  “He’s fine. It makes people suggestible is all. Come on.”

  Inside the bar, the floor was swept with blue and purple lights. Tables lined the walls, but for the most part, the bar was simply one huge dance floor. Currently, it was empty. For a Friday night in the club scene, it was still early. Only a little after nine. Still, several waitresses wandered about the room, bringing drinks in tall, long-stemmed glasses to a few early birds. The music was pumping, pounding. Some kind of techno stuff. Not my thing. I couldn’t distinguish what kind it was. I just knew it was monotonous and treble-heavy. Of course, Puck was bobbing her head appreciatively to it.

  I followed her to the bar and listened as she asked the bartender how to find the Sanguine Lounge. “It comes highly recommended,” she said.

  “Listen,” said the bartender, “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, baby, but we don’t let just anyone into the lounge. You’ve got to be special.”

  “I am special,” said Puck. She reached into her bag and came out with more pixie dust. But as she was opening her hand, the bartender stopped her.

  “Uh-uh,” he said, closing her hand again. “That stuff always gives me the sniffles. I’ll show you the way.” He came out from behind the bar and motioned for us to follow him. Puck grinned at me, looking very excited. I didn’t feel excited. I felt as if I were going to puke. Getting inside the bar had done nothing to calm my nerves. The bartender led us through a door on the side of the dance floor. It opened onto a narrow hallway. We went back down the hallway for what seemed like ages, and then we were at a door at the end. The bartender opened the door and let us inside the lounge.

  I could see why only special people got to come back here. It was an ornately decorated room. Red velvet curtains, deep red shag carpet, black velvet couches and chairs, diamond chandeliers … It was nice. It was very vampire, too. The people in the room matched it. They were all in black and red—velvet, for the most part, but there was a little satin and leather mixed in. And they all had fangs.

  I’m not lying. Fangs. And they looked real. To make matters worse, as we entered the room, they all looked up at us.

  I touched Puck on the shoulder, and she turned to me. I shook my head at her, trying to let her know that I was not okay with this and that we should get the hell out of here. Apparently that was too much to try to convey with a look. Puck just smiled.

  “Excuse me,” said a woman with black hair and black eyes, whose fangs were stained with what I hoped was wine. Whatever it was, it was deep red, and she was drinking the red stuff out of one of those long-stemmed glasses. “Who are you?”

  “Gabriella Puck,” said Puck.

  “Delia’s girl?” asked the woman in recognition.

  Puck nodded enthusiastically. “You know my mom?”

  “We went to university together,” said the woman. “I’m Letia.”

  “Letia!” exclaimed Puck. “She’s told me stories about you.”

  Letia smiled sinisterly. “Well, we had quite the time in our day, we did.” She wrinkled her brow. “But if I remember correctly, you are a little young to be in here, aren’t you?”

  Puck rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Besides, I’m only here to help a friend.” She yanked me forward. “This is Russ.”

  I waved a tiny wave. I wanted to leave.

  “Russ is not only too young to be here, but too human,” said Letia. She swept me with her eyes. I felt dirty and frightened all at the same time.

  I tried to use my eyes to beg Puck to get us out of here, but my eyes seemed to be speaking a different language than Puck’s did.

  “We were told that there might be someone here who could help us out with a little changeling problem we’ve got.”

  “Changelings?” said Letia. “That’s Robin’s thing, but he’s not here tonight. Probably won’t be in. If he’s coming, he’s usually here for happy hour.”

  “Oh,” said Pu
ck. She was disappointed. “So nobody else knows anything about changelings here?”

  “Well,” said Letia, “I know something about them, but not much.”

  “Maybe you can help us,” said Puck. “Will you listen to our problem?”

  Letia shrugged.

  “Russ boiled water in an eggshell for the changeling, and it revealed itself, but since he wasn’t the baby’s father, it didn’t revert to the original human baby. How do we get the human baby back now?”

  “I don’t know,” said Letia. “I told you I didn’t know much.”

  “Puck,” I said, finding my voice, “let’s get out of here.”

  “Hold on,” she said. “I wasted valuable pixie dust to get in here. I want some kind of answer. We’ll ask everyone else.”

  A tall Fey with elfin features and skeletal fingers put his hand on my arm. “Better to come back when Robin is here, boy,” he said. “But I can tell you this—you’ll need one of the child’s real parents to get him back. And it won’t be easy either.”

  I forced myself not to recoil from his touch. “When is Robin usually here?”

  He shook his head. “Can’t ever say. He flits in and out; he does.”

  I nodded, swallowing. His fingers felt like cobwebs against my skin. “Okay,” I said. “Just keep trying, huh?”

  “Best to do that,” he said. “And it’s probably best if the two of you leave now. This isn’t the place for the likes of you.”

  Puck looked reluctant, but I wasn’t having any of it. I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her through the door and down the long, narrow hallway.

  I emerged from the school building at the end of the day and went directly to my car. Marcos walked with me, but was going past me to his own car. Then I noticed that Dave Lawrence was standing at my car, preparing to put a huge scratch in it with his key.

  I dropped my book bag and sprinted to the car. Lunging at Dave, I growled, “Drop it.” As I collided with him, his keys slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground. Dave and I went down on the pavement, him on the bottom, me on top.

  Instinctively, I put my hands out to break my fall. I felt the asphalt dig into the soft flesh of my palms. I swore.

  Dave was swearing too.

  I recovered as quickly as I could, screaming, “You bastard,” at Dave and swinging at him.

  But Dave was too fast for me. He twisted underneath me and dodged the punch.

  I tried to pin him down with my legs, but he wriggled free and scrambled to his feet.

  I wasn’t quick enough and couldn’t get to my feet.

  Dave clocked me. I went down on my back. My head smacked against the pavement. I bit my lip hard and tasted blood.

  Snarling, I got to my feet and ran at Dave. But before I could make contact with his body, a strong hand collided with my chest.

  It was Marcos. He was standing between us, arms spread to hold us apart.

  “Both of you stop it,” said Marcos.

  I struggled to catch my breath. “Did you see what he was about to do to my car?”

  “Oh, you little shit, like your car hasn’t been practically demolished before,” said Dave.

  “Let me go, Marcos,” I said through clenched teeth. “I have to kill him.”

  Marcos looked back and forth between the both of us. “Both of you calm down,” he said. “I’m going to lower my arms and you two are not going to touch each other. Okay?”

  “Okay,” said Dave.

  “Not okay,” I said.

  “Russ,” said Marcos pointedly.

  “He was going to key my car,” I said. “And he probably got Cindi pregnant.”

  “I did not!” yelled Dave.

  “Please,” said Marcos. “I’ll let you go, and then we’ll all talk, all right?”

  “Fine,” I bit out.

  “Fine,” said Dave.

  Marcos lowered his arms. We all crossed our arms over our chest. I thought the back of my head was dripping blood, but I didn’t dare touch it. It might make me look weak or wimpy or something.

  “Okay,” said Marcos. “Look, Russ, I don’t think it was Dave.”

  “Why not?” I said. “He’s the kind of guy who’d knock a girl up and never own up to it.”

  “What the hell are you saying, Knight?” asked Dave. “That you don’t think the kid is yours? That’s pretty fucking shitty of you, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t care what Dave Lawrence thought of me, and I didn’t want to explain to him why I knew the baby wasn’t mine, so I just said, “No, Dave, I just found out you were sleeping with Cindi last year, and it pissed me off. It’s understandable, isn’t it?”

  “Dude,” said Dave. “You were blind; you know that?”

  “Hey,” said Marcos.

  “What?” said Dave to Marcos. “You saying that because he was too stupid to figure it out last year, that he should never find out because it might upset him?”

  “He’s my friend, okay?” said Marcos.

  “Whatever,” said Dave. “Look, Russell, your girlfriend was a total slut. She slept around on you all the time. Cindi probably slept with the entire football and basketball teams at one point during her high school career.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “You’re an ass,” said Marcos. “I should beat you up myself.”

  Dave chuckled. “Yeah, I slept with her. Couple times. But in the spring. March, I think. She would have already been pregnant by then. Sorry, dude. It’s still your problem.”

  If Cindi had been so loose, why hadn’t she been willing to sleep with me? God knows I tried to get her to do it. She’d told me she was a virgin. And I, like an idiot, had believed her. The whole football team?

  “Russ, he’s exaggerating,” said Marcos. “She didn’t sleep around that much.”

  I put my fingers gingerly on the back of my head. I didn’t care about looking weak anymore. “But she slept around, huh?” I looked at my fingers. No blood. Lucky me.

  Dave looked at Marcos. “Can I go now?”

  Marcos snorted. “No,” he said. “Wait until I write you a pass, pretty boy.”

  Dave flipped Marcos off. Marcos glared at him. Dave lowered his hand. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Get out of here,” said Marcos.

  Dave scooped his keys up off the ground and sauntered off. I watched him go. Did I believe him?

  “Do you believe him?” I asked Marcos.

  “I do,” said Marcos. “Do you?”

  I didn’t know. On the one hand, he’d obviously slept with Cindi. I would believe that even if he hadn’t admitted it. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure if he had only slept with Cindi when he’d said he had. “I don’t know,” I said. “Why do you believe him?”

  “For Dave to be the father, he’d have had to sleep with Cindi during September, right?”

  I did a little bit of quick calculating in my head. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before. I nodded. “Yeah. September.”

  “Remember how Dave got that injury in the away game with Bradenton?” asked Marcos. “He was in the hospital for weeks, and then all through October, he was hobbling around on crutches.”

  Yeah, but his dick hadn’t been injured. Still. I guess … . “It’s unlikely it’s him,” I said.

  “I think he’s telling the truth.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You all right?” asked Marcos. “You’re all scraped up.”

  The day got worse rather than better. When I got home, my mother was pissed because she and my dad had some wine in the refrigerator which was gone. Naturally, she assumed I’d drunk it. It hadn’t been me. I went in and yelled at my sister about it, but she denied drinking it either, and I can always tell when Emily is lying. She wasn’t. So that only left one person.

  Keiler the changeling.

  I went into his room. He was lounging in his crib with his arms crossed behind his head, gazing at the ceiling.

  “Where is it?” I said.

  �
��Where’s what?” he said.

  “The wine bottle.”

  He smiled. “Oh. That. Under the crib.”

  I bent down and looked. Sure enough. Grabbing it, I stood up. Shaking the bottle at him, I said, “You can’t steal wine from my parents.”

  He stood up and crossed the crib to me. “It’s boring being a baby,” he said.

  “Whatever,” I said, heading for the door.

  “Hey,” he called after me, “when are you going to get the real baby switched back?”

  “I’m working on it,” I threw over my shoulder.

  I was working on it. My parents grounded me, which was really stupid, considering that they were telling me I needed to be responsible now, but were treating me like a little kid. Responsible people got freedom. It was the reward for being responsible. I had no freedom. Anyway, since they wouldn’t let me go anywhere, I had to wait until they were asleep and sneak out to go back to the vampire bar. I had to find Robin if I was going to fix this whole mess. The changeling had to get out of my house. He couldn’t keep stealing my parents’ alcohol. And I couldn’t keep getting blamed for it.

  I really had no desire to ever go back there, but I couldn’t think of any other way to end the madness. Besides, I’d been to the bar before. Nothing bad had happened then. I would be okay. I’d held my own against Dave Lawrence. That proved I wasn’t a total wuss. And in the end, it was my problem, anyway. I had to take care of it myself. No one else. So I would go back to the vampire bar. I would find this Robin. And I would make him tell me how to fix all this stuff.

  Around midnight, when I was certain they were asleep, I quietly let myself out the front door and eased my car out of the driveway without starting it, just letting it drift backwards. Once on the street, I started the car and drove off to town. Puck wasn’t with me tonight, so I was afraid I’d have trouble getting in. But I managed to blend in with a crowd of people going in at the door, so no one checked my ID. Since I knew where the lounge was, I just started off for it as soon as I was inside.

  Last night, we’d been in the lounge a little after nine o’clock. Tonight, it was after midnight. Three hours made an enormous difference. For one thing, the lounge was a lot more crowded after midnight. Fey were packed onto the couches and chairs. They were smoking cigarettes and drinking out of the long-stemmed glasses the bar used.

 

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