So the plus side was that I had a patron and didn’t have to bounty hunt anymore. The bad side was the patron was a loon and I’d be digging through ancient garbage for at least four weeks before I’d even hit dirt.
After spending the afternoon and early evening in his office listening to his terrifying plans, at least terrifying as far as any hopes I had for ever advancing my reputation as an archeologist, I was ready for a drink.
The Shimmering Dewdrop was in a rowdy mood. No furniture had started flying, but the night was still young and this seemed the evening for it.
Perhaps the tension of closing down the ruins hadn’t fled, people still seemed bottled up and on edge. Or maybe it was just me.
I swung onto a bar stool. The tables were claimed and no one I wanted to be with was claiming them. Dogmaela swaggered up to me and slammed down a full pint of Old Sod.
“Your friend looking for you.” Her voice was deeper than usual, not a good sign for the males in the pub. Hopefully Foxy planned on letting her off for the next few days as troll breeding habits were dangerous and unpredictable at best.
“Which friend?” I asked as I took a long pull of my drink. I had a theory that there wasn’t a problem out there that Old Sod couldn’t fix. It just sometimes took a lot of Old Sod.
“Tall, dark, handsome.” Her voice lowered even more and she muttered a few trollish words I didn’t understand. The description left out Harlan, besides she knew him. So Marcos or Alric?
“The one friend with the jinn,” she said as she nodded to the corner.
Because of the crowd, I hadn’t seen him when I came in, but Marcos was across the pub talking to Max. Max noticed me first and pulled on Marcos’ arm. Marcos turned and flashed me a stunning smile. There was something to be said for beautiful and cowardly. At least I’d never have to pull him out of the river. I raised my hand, then nodded over to the seat next to me.
Marcos put one finger up then ushered Max out of the pub.
Okay that was odd.
I was just turning back to my ale, when Marcos came back in and joined me.
“Ah, my lovely one, I have missed you.” His pout made it seem like I’d been hiding from him. Never mind that he had abandoned me one time and ignored me the next.
“Where’s Max?” Not that I really cared but it seemed odd that he rushed him out then came back alone.
Marcos took my hand and rubbed his thumb gently around the palm. “I do not know. He said he must run, so I said good-bye. The jinns are mysterious, I do not question their ways.”
The next hour was spent with Marcos trying very hard to woo me, and me not trying very hard to remain un-wooed. Marcos was like that huge slice of crumbleberry pie, sweet, not good for you, but felt oh-so wonderful. I’d had a rough week and deserved some crumbleberry pie.
We’d finished eating, and far too much drinking, when Marcos suggested we go back to my place. With the latest rash of weirdness going on concerning my abode, the idea of a romantic interlude there didn’t sound like a good idea. But he said his place was under repair and he was staying with friends, so that was out.
We made it inside my door before we started going after each other for real. I really felt the time I’d been between boyfriends. But lying on the sofa making out like teenagers wasn’t my idea of making up for lost time though, even if both of us had lost most of our clothing.
“Come on, we’ll be more comfortable in bed,” I broke for air long enough to say.
“Oh, my sweet, anywhere with you is like a cloud.” While normally a line like that would make me gag, when it was issued by someone with a solid and toned torso, and hands of magic, I was willing to overlook it.
“Come on. Besides, if the girls come home, it’d be better if we weren’t in here.”
That did it. Like most people, he had a respect for the annoyance level of three faeries. He gracefully rose to his feet, his ardor clearly showing in his eyes, and lifted me up in his arms.
I snuggled into his bare shoulder, plying it with little kisses as he nudged open the door.
And screamed like a school girl.
I landed on the floor with a thud, looking up to see my potential lover grabbing his clothing from the floor, not even bothering to put them on as he raced for the door.
Grumbling about cowardly gypsies, and rubbing my sore ass, I rose to my feet to see what had caused such a change.
And found a body. Again.
I didn’t think I knew this body, at least the way it was jumbled didn’t look like anyone I knew. To be honest, standing there practically naked in the partial dark, you couldn’t pay me enough to go near that thing.
I started to laugh.
My mind had simply had too much. There were dead people all over my life, crime lords and thieves following me, insane academics hiring me for obscure trash runs, and now when I tried to get a little nookie and relax—another dead body.
The laughter shook my entire body, my legs finally rattling so much that I had to slide to the floor. Eventually tears starting running down my face. I was no longer just laughing, but heading toward hysteria. It’s amazing that one can tell that is happening even as it occurs. Part of me felt outside, calmly observing this blubbering, giggling mass sitting on the floor in her underclothes.
“Taryn?”
Judging by the fact I heard a voice, yet I hadn’t heard a door, my cowardly suitor must have left the door open.
Luckily I was wallowing near my closet and could grab a long tunic and some old worn pants. I’d just slipped them on when a head popped in the doorway.
“Are you all right?”
The sight of Alric on top of everything else that had happened was almost too much. Instead of answering, another round of hysterical laugh-weeping took over.
“No, that would be very much no.” My voice sounded a lot stronger in my head than it did to my ears.
Alric was freshly dusty; clearly he’d been in the ruins. Except that no one would be there this time of night, at least no one legitimately there.
“It’s happened again,” I said with a hiccup as I pointed to the top of my bed. Alric had been focused on me when he came in and hadn’t noticed the corpse on my coverlet.
“Oh no.” He bundled me up and carried me out to my living room. He set me down on my sofa with more care than one would offer an elven vase. “This has nothing to do with you, do you understand?” He kept rubbing the side of my face, finally holding it so I’d meet his eyes. “This is because of me. Someone saw you bring me here last night.”
The words made a lot of sense; they just weren’t really getting to the core of the problem.
“No, not me, you,” I hiccupped again, realizing for possibly the first time that I was drunk.
“Oh crap,” he swore as he made that same realization. “You’re drunk, and I don’t have time to explain this.” He forced my eyes to meet his and I felt some odd pressure at the back of my skull. He didn’t seem happy when I giggled since it tickled. “That’s not good. You shouldn’t be awake.”
“I’m not that drunk, you know. I’m not one of those passing out kind of women. Otherwise, I would have passed out when I saw that,” I said as I pointed in the general direction of my room, or the kitchen, one or the other. “And, I didn’t pass out at the other body either.” I crowed, that would show him, thinking I would pass out.
“That’s not what I—” he said then stopped mid comment. “Wait, other body? You’ve had another body here?”
I giggled insanely. Even to my own ears it sounded insane. “Don’t be jealous—we didn’t make it to the bed—he ran off before he could finish the deed.” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “There’s a dead body in my bed, you know.”
Alric pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. When he opened them I was still staring at him. “You didn’t have any whisky perchance, did you?”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “No, my friends know better than to give it to me.”
&nbs
p; Clearly he wasn’t going to trust me on that. “I need you to stay here on the sofa and try to go to sleep. This will be better in the morning, I promise.”
There seemed to be more he wanted to say, but he held back. Instead he got to his feet and pulled up the blanket I’d covered him with the night before. Peering into my eyes, I felt that odd push in the back on my head again, but not enough to tickle.
He actually smiled as he tucked the blanket around me. It was probably a good thing he didn’t do it often, as that was a dangerous smile.
I couldn’t help myself and reached up to kiss him.
I didn’t recall what happened in the ruins that clearly, but I knew this kiss was nothing like that. Soft and gentle, it was full of surprise. Both his and mine. He broke it off gently, pressing me back down on the sofa.
“I just don’t know who you are. Or what you are.” His green stare was intense and the pressure built in the back of my head for a third time. This time, that was the last thing I noticed.
Chapter 22
Weird dreams filled my sleep and a beautiful light beckoned to me. Of course light like that usually meant death, so even asleep I ran in the opposite direction. Tossing and turning, I flung myself off the sofa.
To find three faeries watching me with psychotic attention. If the events of the last few days hadn’t made me a bit jaded, I would have been terrified to have those three looking at me like that. I still was concerned.
They weren’t mad or drunk. They were interested.
Something far, far worse.
“Girls?” I stretched and tried to pull myself back onto the sofa without actually standing. Last night was mostly a blur. I did remember Marcos and possibly the best kiss I’d ever had. Everything else was fuzzy. “Where have you been?”
Finally succeeding in pulling myself up onto the sofa, I flopped back onto the blanket. Marcos must have covered me up.
“Him, we travel with him.” Garbage said, still watching me closely.
I had to fight the urge to look behind me and make sure I hadn’t grown wings or a tail. “Him who, sweetie? Harlan?”
All three of them burst into giggles at that. “No, silly. Uncle Harlan not like him.”
I wasn’t up to playing mind games with three little mad women. “Who were you with? A name. I would like a name, a real name for whoever you were with.” They started to answer, but I flung up one hand to hold them off. “And don’t say ‘him’.”
Names were often problematic for the girls, so they regularly made up new ones for people. I was hoping my command to give me a real name would make them think harder on it.
All three sets of shoulders slumped forward; they were going to say ‘him’ again.
Let’s go about this another way. Where had the girls been last I saw them? My brain was far fuzzier than a normal night of binge drinking, but I recalled they took off with Alric at some point. It felt like weeks ago.
“Alric? Have you been with him?”
Three pairs of bright eyes lit up and all three heads bobbed. Somehow he’d gone from enemy number-one—besides the squirrel family—to their hero referred to only as ‘him’.
I liked it better when they wanted to kill him.
“Then where were you?”
“Traveling. Brought you flower.” Leaf piped up as she fluttered over to my sofa and handed me a lovely, tiny, flower. It was of a shade of lavender I’d never seen before and so delicate I was certain it would be wilted within hours.
Of course I still had no idea where they had been. Maybe I could get Covey to identify this flower, but with my luck it was a common weed in the richer parts of town. Place names were even more problematic for the faeries to recall than people names. Wherever they were at that moment, was ‘here’. Anything else was ‘not here’.
And traveling could be anywhere at all.
“Right, thanks for the flower, girls. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Alric lately?” Now where did that come from? I really didn’t care where he was. Did I? No, the consensus was no. I think.
“He had more traveling,” Leaf said.
Crusty peered closer into my face. “He tell us to watch you.”
Ah crap. The faeries rarely took suggestions, but if they did they took they them literally. I was lucky I hadn’t woken up with them sitting on me.
How in the hell was I going to get rid of them? I started my new job today, and showing up being watched by tiny flying nut jobs was not a good way to impress the boss. Even if we would be digging through trash for a few weeks.
“That’s nice,” I said as I tested my feet. They felt a bit more solid than a moment ago, so I tottered up and wobbled to the doorway of my room.
A nagging voice was rambling on in my head about something.
Something I had forgotten.
I’d clearly forgotten how to dress. Looking down I found I wore two pieces of clothing I hadn’t seen in years. They usually lived in the bottom of my wardrobe.
I grinned. Maybe Marcos dressed me. The grin slid into a frown, then why would I be out in the living room? My bed looked untouched, in fact far neater than I remembered leaving it. With a sigh I sat down to sort myself out. I hadn’t gotten this blasted in a long time. Funny thing, I don’t remember being that drunk.
Three blurs of color decided they’d waited long enough for me to come back and were hunting me down. Their in-flight braking worked as well as it usually did, and all three slammed into the side of my head.
I had been perched on the edge of my bed. Trying to avoid them, and the subsequent failure of such, landed me back on the floor.
“Damn it!” I rubbed my knee where I’d hit it on the way down. “You don’t need to…what’s this?” I stopped mid-chastisement as a crinkled piece of parchment caught my eye. Not that paper on the floor of my home was a rare visitor—sadly, there were usually a few pieces drifting around—but this was parchment. As in high-quality old scroll material.
Batting off the girls, who were determined to get to whatever was there before I did, I carefully pulled the parchment out from under my bed. It was only chance I’d seen it; after all I usually didn’t spend this much time on the ground.
It wasn’t very wide, like a torn strip from a much larger piece. About two feet long, it was less than four inches wide and had faded brown writing on it. Unfortunately from the bits I could see, even if it had been intact I wouldn’t have been able to understand it. I was becoming an expert at recognizing bits and pieces of elvish writing. A language no one seemed to be able to understand, but was showing up in the damnedest places.
Like under my bed.
Maybe it had come in with the body…what the hell was I thinking? Body? The mumbling voices in the back of my head finally shouted in glee as it all came crashing down.
The bar, Marcos, the sofa, the body…and Alric.
Ignoring my bumped knee, I wrapped my arms around both knees, and lay my head down on them.
The body was now missing, which was good and bad. Two people besides myself knew about the body. Well, two plus whoever put it there. But I certainly didn’t trust neither Marcos nor Alric no matter how great at kissing either of them might be.
Shaking my head at the way mayhem and my hormones were beginning to rule my life, I flattened out the paper. The writing was pretty, I had to give those ancient elves or whatever they were credit for that, neat calligraphy.
As I stared, a few words drifted. They drifted and suddenly made sense. Storm of death to destroy all and rip them free of time.
I shook my head blinked a few times and looked again. How in the hell could I read that?
I couldn’t.
Whether it had just been my imagination, or something left over on the paper itself, I couldn’t make the words move again. But their meaning was seared into my skull. It was as if I hadn’t just understood the words, I’d felt them emotionally. And two more that I’d glimpsed right before I lost the ability to read it. Glass gargoyle.
Someh
ow I really didn’t think that was a good sign.
Chapter 23
I did what any sane woman would do upon finding a clue that would most likely lead to more destruction and mayhem in my life. I went to burn it.
Luckily for antiquity, I couldn’t get the stove to light. Problem with glows instead of candles, very little open flame in the world now.
With a sigh, I went to pick up the paper and put it somewhere safe. Somewhere that did not involve being ingested by faeries.
“What the hell are you three doing?” I yanked it free of their tiny hands before any real damage could be done. Yes, in a fit of being overwhelmed, I had thought to destroy it. But I was over that.
The girls clearly weren’t.
“That is bad, no you have,” Garbage said as she puffed herself up to appear larger. When you’re only four inches high all the puffing in the world isn’t going to help.
“Look, I’m not sure what Alric told you, but I’m fine.” I recalled more and more of the previous night and realized that he’d been genuinely concerned for me. While kind of nice, that could spell trouble if he passed that concern to the faeries.
Three tiny sets of arms folded across overall-clad chests. He’d told them he was worried. Clearly, the man had no clue as to how faeries’ psyches worked. Actually neither did I but I had ideas of what to do and what not to do. The girls were now programmed to follow and protect me from anything and everything. I was trapped.
Unless that was his plan. Each time I thought I’d figured Alric out, he showed another side. Was this just another way to keep me from getting in his way?
Damn it.
Carefully folding the strip of parchment in such a way I could keep it from tiny hands, I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door. Three light thuds followed by shrill faery swearing told me the girls hadn’t stopped in time.
The Glass Gargoyle (The Lost Ancients Book 1) Page 17
