His rakish smile returned with those last words, but I still detected uncertainty in his manner. There was obviously more to his history that Lucas didn’t want to go into, and it didn’t seem like the time for me to press for more detail.
“Okay,” I said, “so I can’t get rid of you by drowning. Good to know.”
That touched off more laughter, which is what I intended. The conversation moved on to less charged topics. We ordered more drinks, and I allowed myself to be talked into trying a Scotch Egg. I’m pretty sure I clogged an artery — or several — but Lucas was right. Those things are delicious.
Even with everything that was going on around Chesterfield and the Strigoi Sisters, I had fun that evening. My new friends were far less formal and formulaic than the other Fae I’d met.
Of course, the scene was a bar joke waiting for a punch line.
“A vampire, an elf, and a talking raccoon walk into a bar . . . “
But it was a good bar, as friendly and inviting as any neighborhood watering hole anywhere in the world. In the most incongruous of settings, I felt completely normal for the first time in days. In my gut, I knew the reprieve wouldn’t last, so I settled back and enjoyed it while I could.
10
A cold blast of wind whistled down the High Street. Connor Endicott hunched into his wool jacket and turned the collar up. Normally on an evening like this, he would have preferred to stay indoors, but the allure of a waiting order of sketchbooks and pencils at Horatio Pagecliff’s bookstore proved too strong.
The weight of the bundle under his arm reassured Connor that the walk had been worth it regardless of the weather. Was there anything more full of promise than a creamy blank page and a freshly sharpened pencil?
He wanted to dedicate an entire portfolio to sketches of the growing unicorn foal. The new filly would have to be raised largely indoors this winter due to the unusual timing of her birth. That would afford Connor the chance to bond with the newborn and study her development.
The Lord High Mayor brought the last surviving unicorns to Shevington roughly fifteen years ago. Since then, Ellis Groomsby, the town’s stable master, had worked tirelessly with the sensitive creatures to put in place a viable breeding program. Connor now served as his principle apprentice.
Still thinking about how to ensure that the filly received adequate exercise, Connor spotted the sign for O’Hanson’s Pub a few yards ahead. Couldn’t he make time for a Scotch Egg and a pint of ale? The idea of settling down at the table in the back by the fireplace appealed to him.
As he slowed his step and reached for the brass handle on the pub’s front door, however, the nagging voice of his conscience stopped him. The biting wind would be much worse in a couple of hours, and he’d left Ailish at home nursing a cold.
An image of the Elven Grey Loris’ enormous sad eyes rose in his mind. Normally, Ailish accompanied Connor wherever he went, sitting perched on his shoulder chattering happy commentary in his ear. But for the last two days, she’d sneezed and coughed — and complained loudly about taking the tonic Ellis prepared for her.
When Connor told his friend that he was going to Pagecliff’s, she immediately reached for her red and white striped scarf.
“No, Ailish,” Connor said. “The wind is blowing a gale, and you’re sick. You have to stay here.”
“Ailish doesn’t like alone,” she said defiantly. “Alone makes Ailish sad.”
“You won’t be alone long,” Connor assured her, “and I’ll get you some bananas and honey while I’m out.”
That suggestion brightened her expression. “Sticky sweet honey?” the loris asked.
“Sticky sweet is the only kind there is, silly,” he laughed.
“Silly Ailish will do alone for sticky sweet honey,” she assured him bravely, before adding, “but hurry.”
Connor’s lips curled into a smile as he remembered the whimsical exchange. He rarely refused Ailish anything. He’d promised to return as quickly as possible. The Scottish Egg and ale would have to wait.
Truthfully, Connor had work to do anyway. He was finishing an embossed saddle on commission. The intricate patterns on the flaps were taking longer than he’d anticipated and he hated to miss a delivery deadline.
Quickening his steps, Connor made his way through the mostly deserted streets to the stables. As soon as he started up the stairs to his compact apartment over the tack room, he spotted Alish waiting for him at the open door.
The loris clutched a single pink tissue in her tiny hand. She greeted him with the mournful pronouncement, “Ailish’s nose is running away.”
Laughing, Connor took the tissue and wiped her face. “Ailish’s nose is running,” he said. “Not running away.”
The loris sniffed and intoned solemnly, “If away is dry, away is good.”
Connor held out his hand. “Come with me,” he said. “I’ll fix your bananas and honey. That will make you feel better.”
Ailish climbed his arm and wrapped herself around his neck, clinging to Connor as he first deposited the parcel from the bookstore on his desk. In the kitchen, he opened the sack of groceries and put away his purchases, leaving out a large bunch of bananas and a jar of honey.
He peeled and sliced the fruit, poured the golden honey in a bowl, and settled Ailish on the sofa. After adding more wood to the fire, Connor went to his littered workbench beneath the dormer window. The smell of new leather and oil permeated the space, but in a pleasant way that he found both comforting and homey.
In truth, Connor had only lived two places in his life — his grandmother’s cottage and the apartment at the stables. When Granny Endora died and left her house to Fiona Ryan, Connor had been secretly relieved. He liked his life exactly the way it was. He couldn’t imagine living away from the animals or having to worry about matters of upkeep and getting along with the neighbors.
As a boy growing up at Endora’s, Connor stole away to the stables at every opportunity. In the end, Ellis just put him to work. Then, when Connor turned 18, he moved in over the tack room. Fifteen years later, he was still there.
Just as he reached for a leather stamp, Connor heard heavy scratching at the window. Drawing back the curtain, he found himself looking straight into a set of glowing, jewel-like eyes.
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Connor muttered, raising the sash. “Minreith, what are you doing out on a night like this?”
The dragonlet answered with a series of perfectly reasonable chirps.
“Yes, yes,” Connor said, “I know. The stables are technically outside the city limits, and you’re allowed to be here, but I already gave you a pan of scraps at dawn and it’s cold out there.”
Minreith turned his head, opened his mouth, and emitted a slender jet of flame.
“Okay, okay, stop that!” Connor said. “I know you have your own central heating system, you don’t have to try to burn the place down proving your point. Come in, let me see if there’s anything left you can eat.”
Minreith delicately hopped through the opening, folding his wings flat against his body as Connor reached past him and closed the window. The dragonlet looked around curiously, spotted Ailish on the couch, and yodeled a greeting.
Ailish raised her paw in response and sneezed.
“She has a cold,” Connor explained. “You better stay over here, so you don’t catch it. When you sneeze, things have a tendency to go up in flames.”
The dragonlet shrugged and settled himself on a clear corner of the workbench, watching as Connor went into the kitchen.
“I don’t have any meat for you,” he told the dragonlet. “How about some apples?”
Minreith’s interested expression was all the answer Connor needed, but the dragonlet added a series of inquisitive clicks.
“Yes,” Connor said, “there’s cheese. You’re a big moocher, you do know that, right?”
Shrugging again, Minreith caught the apple Connor tossed in his direction, holding it delicately in one talon as he nipped at th
e fruit with his sharp beak.
Rejoining his guest, Connor sat down two plates bearing both apple slices and hunks of cheddar cheese. “One for you,” he said, “and one for me. Got it?”
Minreith gurgled reproachfully.
“Yes,” Connor said, “I do think you’d steal my food. Unless it was broccoli.”
From the sofa, Ailish said, “Broccoli green yuck.” She emphasized her point by dipping a piece of her banana in the honey bowl and popping the whole dripping mess in her mouth.
“That will be enough out of you,” Connor said. “It wouldn’t hurt either one of you to eat more vegetables.”
At that, Minreith swallowed his food and cackled a question at Connor.
“Brussels sprouts are an exception,” Connor said firmly. “I won’t eat those disgusting things either.”
As Connor went back to work, Minreith launched into a description of the day’s events in Shevington from the dragonlet point of view. Connor was only half listening to the gurgled and hissed narrative until something caught his attention.
“What do you mean the pretty lady from the human place?” he asked.
Minreith repeated himself and added the detail that the woman was with “the red vampire and the leather coat man.”
“Are you talking about Jinx Hamilton?” Connor asked.
Minreith nodded.
“And she was with Lucas Grayson and Greer MacVicar?” Connor said. “Really? Wonder what she’s doing with the DGI?”
The dragonlet shook his head and let out a few more chirps.
“Oh my God, seriously? They’re drinking at O’Hanson’s?” Connor said. “I almost went in there on my way home. I’d like to get a look at this witch from the human world everyone is talking about. Maybe I’ll ask Mrs. Ryan to introduce us one of these days. You know Jinx is her niece.”
Nodding again, Minreith gulped down the rest of his apple and tapped the window with his beak.
“Are you sure you want to go back out there?” Connor asked. “You can sleep here tonight if you want.”
Minreith shook his head, indicating he needed to get back to his flock.
“Okay,” Connor said, “but you go straight back to your cave. None of this flying over the Valley at night spewing fire.”
When the dragonlet protested, Connor said firmly, “It may be fun to convince people they see shooting stars, but then half the town thinks they’ve witnessed an omen and the Lord High Mayor has to settle them down. Barnaby has enough to deal with on a normal day without any help from you.”
After Minreith left, Connor quickly became absorbed in his work again, finishing the embossing well after midnight. Putting his tools aside, he realized Ailish was curled up on the sofa snoring.
Since he had to be up at dawn to feed the animals and start mucking out the stalls, Connor knew he had to get some sleep, but he didn’t want to wake Ailish who needed her rest. At the same time, however, if the loris awakened in the night and couldn’t find him, she’d panic.
That just left him one option — joining her on the sofa. Being careful not to disturb his little friend, Connor carefully stretched out and pulled a blanket over them both. Ailish instantly curled up on his shoulder, wrapping one arm protectively around his neck.
Connor didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when the sound of heavy knocking awakened him. Rubbing his eyes groggily, he answered the door to find Ellis Groomsby standing on the stairs.
“Ellis!” Connor said. “Did I oversleep? I am so sorry. I’ll be right down.”
“Slown down, Endicott,” Ellis said. “You’re not late. I’m better than an hour early, but I need to change your assignment for the day.”
“Oh. Sure,” Connor said. “What do you need me to do?”
“Get up to the new merfolk habitat and help with the introduction of the final aquatic lifeforms,” he said. “The wind has died down, and the skies are still clear, but the work up there has to be finished before the first snow hits. You good with that?”
“Absolutely!” Connor grinned. “I’ve been dying to learn more about the sea creatures. Let me get my stuff together and I’ll head out.”
“Good man,” Ellis said. “Stop by my office before you leave, and I’ll give you the current work orders.”
As he turned to go back downstairs, Connor said, “Uh, Ellis? Don’t forget the unicorns need more bedding in this weather.”
Ellis shot his young apprentice a bemused glance over his shoulder. “Connor Endicott,” he said, “I’ll have you know that I was working on unicorn conservation when you were in diapers.”
“I know,” Connor said sheepishly, “but Blissia did just foal.”
“And she couldn’t have picked a worse time to do it,” Ellis groused. “Unicorns are supposed to foal in the spring.”
“Which is why the little one should be kept . . . ”
“For God’s sake, Endicott,” Ellis groused good-naturedly, “of course I’ll make sure the filly is warm. Now get on with it, man!”
When Connor closed the door, Ailish, who was now fully alert and very interested, began to jump up and down with excitement. “Ailish go to see fish people!” she exclaimed breathlessly.
Catching her in mid-leap, Connor said, “No, Ailish doesn’t. You’re still sick, and there’s a big storm coming. You have to stay here and help Uncle Ellis run the stables.”
Both ears instantly sagged. “Grouchy Unca Ellis,” Ailish pouted. “Phooey!”
Smothering a laugh, Connor said, “Ellis just pretends to be grouchy. You know you always have fun when you stay with him.”
Brightening a little, the loris asked speculatively, “Unca Ellis have sticky sweet honey?”
“I will make sure Ellis has sticky sweet honey,” Connor assured her.
“Okay,” Ailish said, “but Connor hurry.”
“I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone,” he said. “You don’t have a thing to worry about.”
11
“I still don’t see why I had to travel as a human,” Festus groused, following Chase onto the elevator with a scowl, “or why I had to shave before you’d let me come.”
“For the tenth time, Dad,” Chase said, hitting the button for the second floor, “this is the only hotel I could get close to Chesterfield’s shop, and it’s not pet-friendly. You had to shave because you looked like a bum.”
“Some women think stubble is sexy,” Festus grumbled. “And I most certainly am not anyone’s pet. I’ve got half a mind to get furry and shred the curtains for the hell of it. The cable package in this joint better be good, or they’re getting a one-star review.”
“For God’s sake, Dad, we are not on vacation,” Chase said. “The point is that we have a room with a window that opens and a nice handy tree outside so we can come and go undetected. You know, to do the job we were sent here to do?”
“Whatever,” Festus said as the elevator doors opened. They stepped into a stereotypical hotel hallway. “How far did you say we have to walk from here to get to Chesterfield’s?”
“About a block and a half,” Chase replied, scanning the door numbers until he found their room. “This is it.”
He inserted the card in the electronic lock and stood aside to let Festus walk in first. Just beyond the threshold, a shimmering aura surrounded the old man right before he melted toward the floor. Within seconds, Festus, as his usual yellow cat self, stepped out of the pile of discarded clothing, stretched, and limped toward the nearest bed.
“Fold my stuff for me, will you, boy?” he said, springing onto the mattress.
Rolling his eyes, Chase said, “Sure, Dad. No problem.”
“And when you’re done, check the mini bar and see if they’ve got any decent Scotch in this place.”
“No,” Chase said firmly as he picked up his father’s cast-off trousers. “Work first, whisky later.”
Flattening his ears, Festus said, “When did you get to be such a tight . . . ”
“Do not st
art with me, Dad,” Chase warned.
Setting his mouth in a frown that turned his whiskers sharply downward, Festus said, “All I’m saying is that you most certainly do not take after my side of the family. Let’s get on with it so I can have a drink.”
Chase unzipped a side pocket on his suitcase and removed a quick release collar with a silver disc attached. “Fine,” he said, “then you get to wear the RABIES tag.”
Festus fixed him with an indignant glare. “I have never worn a collar in my life,” he said, “and I do not intend to start now.”
“You’re the one who couldn’t wait to shift,” Chase said, “and I can’t very well put the thing on myself after I make the change, so suck it up and stick your neck out.”
While his father continued to complain loudly, Chase fastened the collar in place and pressed the tag between his fingers. The metal glowed slightly and then returned to normal.
“You’re good to go,” Chase said. “So far it seems to be functioning perfectly.”
Festus frowned at his reflection in the large mirror across from the bed. “Tell me again what this gizmo is supposed to do?” he said. “Damn thing makes me look like some kind of domesticated yarn chaser.”
“You love yarn, and you know it,” Chase grinned. “The Registry just started issuing these tags for field testing. Furl managed to score one for us for this job. RABIES stands for ‘Residual Active Base Imprint Energy Scanner.’”
“I read the Registry memo,” Festus said, “but as usual, Furl didn’t make a damned bit of sense. Exactly what does this fool thing do?”
“It reads leftover energy signatures,” Chase explained. “We’ll use it to scan the interior of Chesterfield’s store. It will show us the imprint of everything and everyone that has been there in the last 72 hours.”
Festus studied the tag in the mirror with more interest. “Magic or tech?”
“A little bit of both,” Chase said. “Ironweed touched off an explosion of hybrid ideas when he developed the GNATS drones and powered then with fairy dust. The RABIES designers used an enchantment to give the device the ability to scan for energy, but everything it records goes on a high-capacity memory chip.”
Witch on Third (A Jinx Hamilton Mystery Book 6) Page 9
