The Hob

by Dana Marie Bell

  “So Aileen called in a favor I owed her. She demanded my help in rescuing her son, and that is how I met the Dunnes.” Robin’s smile was full of affection. “I did as they asked, and in return, they accepted me as none other ever had. To me, they are family, though we do not share blood.”

  Kael made a buzzing noise. “Wrong. I hear you share blood with Jaden, which really does make them family. Isn’t that how the vampire became a clan lord?”

  Robin froze. “True enough, but not something I discuss willingly.”

  Kael shrugged. “Anyway, Ruby is a human who truebonded with a Sidhe. She’ll be able to tell you all about being a mortal married to a fae, and how to deal with the dangers that are sometimes attached to that.”

  “But will she understand the dangers of being married to Robin Goodfellow?”

  Robin pressed his chin to the top of her head and breathed deep. She felt him relax, and wondered if perhaps her scent calmed him somehow. “Considering all that she has been through, she may have an idea, as will the rest of her family. The fae world has not been kind to the Dunnes.”

  “Some of it has.” Michaela snuggled into her new husband.

  She felt his smile against her hair. “Indeed. Some of it has.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “You don’t give me the small jobs, do you, Robin?”

  “I require the best, and you are the best.”

  “Too true.”

  Robin grinned. The gremlin was very good at the work he did for Robin and was loyal to a fault, both things that Robin valued highly. “Besides, you love every moment of it.”

  “Also true.” Red cracked his knuckles with an evil grin. “Sit back and watch, my friend, while I work my magic.”

  Robin leaned against Red’s desk and hoped his truebond was sleeping peacefully. He’d left Michaela at Kael’s home after extracting a promise from her to stay put. Last he’d seen, she’d been curled up on Kael’s guest bed, half-asleep and looking oh so tempting. He’d left Kael strict orders to watch over her, much to her amused disgust. “Work away.”

  “Congratulations on your bondmate, by the way.” Red’s fingers began to fly over the keyboard. Data flew across the screen at a speed that would give any but another gremlin a massive headache. “She’s an eleven.”

  That she was. “She has a good and fierce heart, as well.”

  “The best kind of woman.” Red grinned, but his fingers never stopped flying. “She got a sister?”

  Robin shook his head, amused. “I’m not certain. I could ask, if you wish.” It hadn’t come up, but Robin would find out soon enough. Red was a pretty man under all that hair, but scruffy. Even if Michaela had a sister, the gremlin would need a fashion intervention before Robin would allow him out to meet her.

  Red pushed his unruly, dark brown hair out of his face with an impatient grunt. The light of the computer screen shone off his red-framed glasses. “McNeil has been a very naughty boy.” The love of the hunt was in Red’s voice as he chased the threads Michaela had given him. “He’s been looking for snacks in all the wrong places.”

  “What have you found?” Robin leaned over Red’s chair, staring at the incomprehensible flow of data.

  “Bodies have been appearing near the SS United States since the first day McNeil arrived in Philadelphia.” Red glanced at a different screen off to his right before turning his attention back to the one Robin considered his main one. “Which was the same day Prince Evan went missing.”

  “Damnation.” That could mean more than fourteen women dead, as the prince had been missing for over two weeks.

  Red glanced at yet another screen, this one above him and to his left. “By the way, Gloriana didn’t ask the Gray Court for help until a week after the boy disappeared. Her brother and his family were asking for help from her the moment they realized he was gone. Going by their private emails, they’re furious and heading for the Gray Court as we speak.” He tsk’d. “Seems they liked the fact that Oberon jumped to help where their own relative didn’t. Cold bitch, Gloriana.”

  Robin took a deep breath. “Did they have trouble leaving the White Court?”

  “Yes, but I smoothed their way. They’ll get to the Gray Palace safely, don’t you worry.” Red’s grin was pure evil. “Man, she is pissed. She’s talking about—oh shit.”

  “What?”

  “She’s putting a hit out on them.” Red scowled. “They won’t be safe until they give Oberon their oaths, and even then they might not be.”

  “I will deal with it.” He’d assign them a Blade or two until the crisis passed. Gloriana was taking things too far with this stunt. What was she thinking? Prince Edmond was her brother.

  Red nodded once in acknowledgement, already moving on now that the information had been passed along. “Take a look at this.” Red pointed to the lower, left-hand screen.

  The data froze, and Robin found himself staring at several tabbed coroner’s reports. It was more than he’d feared, if the number of tabs spoke truly. “How many has he killed?”

  “More than Philadelphia authorities want to let out, that’s for sure. They’ve got this info locked down tighter than Trump’s hair.”

  Robin counted the reports. “Six so far.”

  “Six they’ve found. I’ve got some missing persons’ reports that match the MO.” More tabs appeared, making twenty in all. Robin cursed under his breath. “Small problem, by the way. All the victims looked remarkably alike.” Pictures flashed into existence over the tabbed reports. “Dark-haired, young, pretty girls, out hitting the clubs. They go missing, the families call frantic, and boom! The police are all, ‘Holy shit, serial killer!’ except the so-called shark bitten bodies are throwing them off. Now they don’t know what to think.”

  “I do.”

  Red nodded. He leaned back in his chair and stared up at Robin, his formerly dark eyes—pupil, iris and whites—blood red. Glowing green text scrolled across them as Red continued to monitor the data on his screens.

  Truly, the gremlins were strange fae, their powers over human technology rivaling no other species. Young, barely a hundred and fifty years old, they’d evolved from brownies, sprites drawn to assisting others but not averse to playing pranks on those they felt deserved it. They were the first new species of fae in a very long time, longer than Robin cared to count. Unlike most other fae, their Seeming came from all the different races of humanity, from Africa to Japan to the odd combinations North America had to offer. Irish fae, like Moira and her parents, tended to look like they came from Ireland; the Sidhe looked like very well-bred Brits. Kitsune always looked Japanese, and Djinn always looked Middle Eastern.

  But not the gremlins. They were true children of the “melting pot” that was the United States. Red’s Seeming was a Korean American with perpetually windblown hair and laughing brown eyes. He was only fifty years old, dressed like a hobo, and was one of the richest men in the world.

  Red’s brow rose. “Orders?”

  Robin tapped his chin as he considered whom he could place with the Orens. “Keep the Orens safe. I’m going to have Tristan Malmayne meet with them, bring them to the court. I’m certain dealing with another fae who fled the White successfully will ease some of their concerns.” Robin ignored Red’s grunt of amusement. “Make sure that Gloriana cannot find them before they reach the safety of the Court. Once there, one of the other Blades will take over.”

  “And McNeil?”

  Robin grinned, his teeth nice and pointy. “I’ll deal with McNeil personally.”

  “All righty then. That’s not freaky or anything.” Robin chuckled darkly as Red turned back to his machines. “Oh, and I’m setting up surveillance on Lady Goodfellow.”

  Robin’s claws dug into the leather of Red’s chair. “Oh?”

  Red snickered. “Down, boy. I’m not gonna poach your girl. I’m just watching your back, as always.”

  Robin grunted.

  “You have it bad. The great Robin Goodfellow, felled by a mortal
.” Red shook his head sadly. “The nymphs are gonna eat her alive.”

  “The nymphs may try. My wife is stronger than she seems.”

  “She’d better be. She looks like a Chihuahua could take her in a cage match.” Red held up his hands when Robin growled. “I’m just saying.”

  “You need to get out more.”

  Red snorted. “Yup. Because the women are just lining up around the block for a shot at me.”

  “If you didn’t resemble one of those nerds you idolize so much…”

  “Hey, now that’s just mean. Besides, I’ve been told I clean up nice.”

  Robin studied Red. He smiled sweetly. “Perhaps I’ll take you under my wing, then.”

  Red’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. “Uh…thanks?”

  “You are most welcome,” Robin purred.

  “Shit.” Red’s fingers started to fly again as Robin chuckled. Dealing with Red was always such a pleasure. “Just try not to make me look like a monkey’s ass, okay?”

  “Monkey’s ass, indeed. You could benefit from my fashion sense.” Robin huffed, straightening the cuffs of his azure silk shirt.

  “I don’t think—” Red sat up straight, his attention suddenly glued to the monitors. “Take a look at this.”

  He did something that Robin couldn’t see, the strange magic of the gremlins working through one of the most powerful of their kind. The screens snapped together, the images blending until Robin could see McNeil hovering over a young, blond man with eyes eerily similar to Kael’s but full of terror. McNeil was dragging the boy through what looked to be the eviscerated, rusty husk of a ship. “Well, well. Prince Evan.”

  Red sat back with a satisfied grin. “Gotcha, you son of a bitch. Gotta love paranoid humans and their trusty surveillance cameras.”

  Robin stood, his movements fluid, ready to hunt. “Contact Jaden. Continue to monitor the prince, but make sure he shows up on none of the final footage the humans will see. I’ll get the prince free.”

  “Aye aye.” Those eerie, data-filled eyes looked up at him again. “Robin.” Robin’s head tilted, curious at the serious expression on the gremlin’s normally jovial face. “You’re one of the few people in this world I give a damn about, and that son of a bitch is sneaky as well as vicious. Be careful.”

  Robin bowed and disappeared, reappearing perched on the lip of one of the smoke stacks of the SS United States. He listened carefully for the sound of McNeil moving below, but could discern nothing. He leapt from the edge, landing lightly on the decking far below.

  It was time to hunt.

  Robin ghosted through the ship, invisible to all eyes, even those of an each uisge. He avoided the areas where the workers were. McNeil would stick to the shadows, avoid the possibility of being caught by so many humans. Unlike Robin, McNeil could not cloak his presence, let alone that of the prince. All Evan would have to do would be to cry out for help, and McNeil would be forced to fight. A slaughter on such a scale would bring more than Oberon’s wrath down upon him, Robin was certain. Not even Titannia viewed the wholesale slaughter of humans with anything but disgust, if only because it brought attention to them. Even she abided by the laws set down by the gods regarding the Seeming.

  The each uisge would be difficult to kill, especially on board the ship. The creature would draw strength from being so close to its element, while Robin, away from his own, would grow marginally weaker.

  That wouldn’t stop Robin from gutting McNeil and whisking Prince Evan to Oberon.

  “Be still, brat.”

  Robin froze, the soft, hissed words with the slight Scottish burr bringing him up short. McNeil was closer than he’d surmised.

  “My aunt will send someone for me.”

  The surprisingly deep voice of the prince was muted, slurred. McNeil must have drugged the boy. Robin caught no scent of other fae, though the fading scent of Lord Wyght was not difficult to discern. Surprisingly, he detected no hint of Lady Malmayne.

  Raven’s scent was stronger, meaning he’d visited the boy recently. Robin was going to have to do something about that.

  McNeil laughed, the sound sinister. “I very much doubt so, boy. You’ve been with us far too long for your loving aunt to ever trust you again.”

  “You bas—”

  The sound of flesh against flesh echoed eerily. “Be quiet, and I might let you continue living.”

  “Someone will come for me.”

  McNeil laughed. The sound was eerily pleasant. “Who do you think they’ll send?”

  “My aunt has men who work for her in covert ops.”

  Covert ops? Robin nearly laughed. Really, the boy watched far too many Bond movies. Gloriana was not M, for Pan’s sake. Robin moved closer to where the voices were coming from, but the strange echoes of the ship were throwing him off.

  “You think they’ll send some White Court fop I’ll eat for breakfast?”

  Evan grunted in pain.

  “Stop struggling or there will be nothing left for your family to find.” McNeil chuckled. “Of course, if Robin arrives, I won’t have to worry about that, will I?”

  Evan whimpered. “W–which Robin?”

  “Goodfellow, of course.”

  “Oh shit.” Evan barely breathed the words.

  Robin rolled his eyes. Really. What did the boy think Robin would do to him?

  “Perhaps you should have accepted her majesty’s kind invitation after all.”

  “I will never turn to the Black.”

  “Foolish boy.” Robin turned the corner and found McNeil, his hand raised, Prince Evan glaring at him defiantly. For all the prince was wobbly on his feet, his conviction was strong.

  Robin moved quickly, placing himself between McNeil and the boy. He popped into view before McNeil could swing and threw a straight arm punch, knocking McNeil back. “Hello again, McNeil.”

  “Goodfellow.” McNeil wiped the blood from his chin. “Here for the boy, I gather.”

  Robin smiled. “By the order of King Oberon, I have been sent to mete out justice to you.”

  “For kidnapping? Going to throw me in jail?” McNeil smirked.

  Oh, how Robin was going to love wiping that look away. “For murdering humans and endangering the fae race, you have been sentenced to death.”

  McNeil’s expression turned dark. “I have to eat, you know.”

  Robin’s brows rose. “No. I don’t.”

  Robin was not surprised when McNeil attempted to rush him. Robin met him with a well-placed kick, sending McNeil flying into a bulkhead.

  McNeil rallied quicker than Robin expected, tossing his own kick at Robin’s head. Robin dodged easily. He’d fought far greater opponents than McNeil could ever hope to be. Unfortunately, when he dodged, it allowed McNeil to slip past him and farther into the ship.

  “Damn.” Robin turned to the young prince, who looked ready to pass out. “Stay put. I’ll deal with McNeil and be back for you.” Robin took off, ignoring the horrified look on the prince’s face.

  Robin snorted in disgust. Blades weren’t just assassins, they were protectors. What were they teaching young fae these days?

  Robin flew through the ship, chasing the salt-water scent of the each uisge. He grew wary as it grew stronger, turning a corner with caution. The son of a bitch was around here somewhere—

  Robin barely dodged the punch that flew at him through a dark, opened doorway. He blocked the next, scowling at how close the each uisge had gotten to landing a blow.

  “Feeding makes me stronger.” McNeil landed a kick to Robin’s thigh that staggered him. “Needless to say, I made sure I was well fed.”

  Robin growled and the walls shook. “And for that, you will die.”

  Robin threw his own punch, startled when McNeil blocked him. McNeil managed to land a punch on Robin that knocked his head back.

  When Robin went to retaliate, McNeil wasn’t there. The sound of pounding footfalls led him to a stairwell, the lingering scent of salt water a telltale sign that McN
eil had gone up.

  Robin ghosted through the floor, unwilling to give McNeil the advantage. He found himself on the upper deck, the blue sky blinding after the darkness of the interior of the ship.

  A door slammed open and McNeil raced out as if the hounds of hell were on his tail. Robin raced after him, still ghosted but able to move much faster than a vampire in a similar state. He was a gust of wind, a breath of quick air, and ahead of McNeil before the water horse could react.

  McNeil flew down another set of stairs to the lower deck, unaware that Robin was already waiting for him. Robin hit him with a flying sidekick that sent him reeling into the stairs. He extended his claws, ready to deliver the lethal blow.

  McNeil blocked, knocking Robin’s poisonous claws away from his flesh. “Not today.”

  “Yes, today.” Robin cold-cocked the bastard. “At least you aren’t monologuing. I hate that.”

  McNeil shook off the blow, using the railing of the stairway to propel himself upward. He swung himself around in a move worthy of a Kung Fu movie, surprising Robin with a blow to his shoulder.

  Robin blinked. “That stung.” Interesting. He might actually have to work up a sweat.

  McNeil didn’t wait around. He took off toward the edge of the ship.

  Shit. If McNeil hit the water, Robin would be unable to follow him. He misted in front of McNeil, crouched, and did his own Kung Fu move. He swung his leg around in an arc, taking McNeil’s legs out from under him.

  McNeil hit the deck hard. Robin crouched over him, his claws ready to strike the killing blow.

  “Hey! Who the fuck are you?”

  Robin turned, startled, at the sound of a strange male voice. One of the construction workers was running toward them, a cell phone in his hand.

  Hell and damnation. Was he taking pictures?

  McNeil took advantage of Robin’s momentary distraction to throw him off. He staggered to his feet and stumbled to the edge of the ship, diving off as Robin’s claws scraped his back.