by Massey,M. D.
12
Journal Entry—Nine Months, Three Days A.J.
Yeah, it’s definitely Jesse’s ghost. Belladonna called yesterday and let me know that she found a few texts with entries that might shed some light on my situation. So, since Mom was working and I was without wheels for the day (the joys of being jobless and living at home, right?) she offered to drive out and bring the books with her so we could look them over together.
Things were cool at first. We were checking out the texts, totally not with anything else in mind—at all—and then Belladonna laid her hand on my arm to stop me from turning a page.
That’s when all the glasses in the kitchen shattered at once.
Belladonna looked at me, I looked at her, and she politely and calmly suggested that she should probably go. She left the books with me, and wisely left without so much as a “see you later.”
After Belladonna had gone, I said to no one in particular that Belladonna didn’t mean anything by it, and she was only trying to help.
So, now I have to buy my mom a whole new set of dinnerware.
Yep, my girlfriend is haunting me.
-McC
Austin, Texas—Present Day
I spent the rest of the day doing online research on this mysterious Ananda Corporation. From what I could tell, they billed themselves as a venture capital firm that mainly invested in biotech and medical research. Why they’d be paying the bills for CIRCE was beyond me; Investopedia said VC firms normally just fronted start-ups the money they needed to get through the incubator stage, and then they’d stay behind the scenes until it was time to sell their stock at a fat profit—that is, if the company they’d invested in had a decent public stock offering.
It just didn’t make sense for a VC firm to be involved with what was basically a non-profit animal rescue operation. Sure, the “animals” they were rescuing were actually supernatural creatures, and for the most part those creatures were sociopathic killers, but by all appearances CIRCE wasn’t in it for the money. Along with all the crazy that was necessary to motivate a group of people to capture and relocate some of the most dangerous species on the planet, there was a whole lot of weird going on that I just didn’t understand.
Which meant I was going to go kappa hunting with Elias tomorrow morning. Hoo. Ray.
I decided that the best therapy for the anger I currently felt over being blackmailed into working for Maeve was caffeine, and lots of it. Besides, I thought I might need to do some recon with Belladonna that night, to help her with her little werewolf problem. I figured I may as well get a head start on staying up late, so I munched on some ramen and tuna, brushed my teeth to get rid of the tuna breath, and headed over to La Crème.
Once there, I ordered a red eye (twelve ounces of black coffee and two shots of espresso, thank you very much) and texted Sabine. I owed her for covering for me, and figured the least I could do was buy her a drink to say thanks. Along with slinging java, Luther served beer and wine—which made sense since most paranormals liked to drink. It took a lot of alcohol to get some species drunk, so he made a killing serving craft brews and wines from the Texas Hill Country to yuppies, hipsters, and supernaturals alike.
Luther let me purchase alcohol even though I was not yet of age, and I had a pint of Thirsty Goat waiting for Sabine when she arrived. She fluttered up to the table wearing a peasant blouse, a rather loud and colorful sarong, and various non-metallic beads and bangles. Her hair was pulled back in a style that reminded me of some eighties pop star, but I couldn’t remember the singer’s name. I ignored the scars on her arms as she plopped down in front of me without saying a word, choosing instead to down half the pint I’d bought her before speaking.
She smiled and wiped her upper lip on her shirt sleeve like a pirate. I chuckled. Some guys liked girls who were all ribbons and curls, but give me a girl who could chug a pint. I’d take a brassy girl who could drink any day of the week over some wine sniffing tea sipper. And being half-fae, Sabine could drink most mortal guys under the table.
“That almost makes up for you bailing on me yesterday. Almost. Now, loop me in, odd one. What’s up with Maeve, and why did she want to see you so badly yesterday?”
Sabine was one of the few people who knew what had really happened between Jesse and me. The Odd Thomas references were her way of putting me at ease about it. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be compared to Odd Thomas? And besides, I cried like a baby when Stormy died—and that was long before I’d lost Jesse.
I gave Sabine a sobering look and took a deep breath, letting it out quickly while rubbing the stubble on my chin. “The bitch blackmailed me into working for her. Can you believe it?”
Sabine frowned and took another slug of her beer. “Of course I can believe it. She’s fae, for Lugh’s sake, and a faery queen besides. Maeve probably had designs on you while you were still in the womb.” She slammed her pint glass down on the table, spilling the frothy contents all over her hand—despite the fact that it was three-quarters empty.
“Ugh! You should never have gone over there. I knew when I saw Siobhán sitting in that lecture hall that trouble was brewing.” She wiped her hand and sat back, pulling her feet up under her in her chair. “So, what’s the job?”
“I’m retrieving a magic rock that someone stole from her. Based on what she told me, it’s an artifact of some significance. She suspects the theft could have been an inside job.”
Sabine sipped her beer, nursing it while she thought. “Hmmm. The intrigues of the faery courts are legendary. I’d say there’s a good possibility of that being the case, if losing that stone might make Maeve look bad to someone important. A faery king or queen’s power is as much based on the respect of their subjects as it is on the raw power they wield. You should find out who gave Maeve that stone in the first place. It might help point you to who stole it from her.”
She had a good point. “Maeve seemed fairly reticent about sharing the details of how the stone came into her possession, but I bet Siobhán might know something.”
Sabine snorted. “Siobhán is probably involved. She’s nothing if not ambitious.”
“Yeah, I’d think Maeve might already suspect her, if she didn’t favor her so much. Siobhán seems to be her favorite grandchild, at the moment.”
“Well, be careful around her. Maeve probably favors her to keep her close, so she can keep an eye on her.”
I gave Sabine a mock two-finger salute. “Duly noted. You ready for another one?”
“Five minutes ago. Sure you have the funds, though?”
“Yeah, Ed gave me an advance on my pay. Most of it is going to books and gas, but I can spare a few bucks for keeping my best friend happy and slightly drunk.”
“Alright, one more round—then the drinks are on me.”
Sabine, like most of the higher fae, came from a family who was loaded. Money wasn’t important to her, but she was considerate enough to empathize with my financial situation. Even so, she allowed me the dignity of buying her the odd cup of coffee, or splitting the check when we went out. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t let her buy me a drink if I was dead broke. We enjoyed a few more rounds of coffee and beer while we went over the notes she’d taken for me.
Soon after we’d finished our third round, we heard the throaty rumble of a Harley coming from the alley behind the coffee shop. Sabine gave me a look that could’ve curdled milk.
“If that’s who I think it is, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at class.” She hastily gathered her things and stood up.
“Um, I won’t be making it. I have to follow up on a lead for this Maeve thing I’m working on. The sooner I get this case solved, the better.”
She winked at me and smiled slyly. “Don’t sweat it, I got you covered. Turns out that bitch who was shushing you the other day sells notes online. I hacked her email account and got you copies of the study outlines she’s using. Apparently not much has changed since her older sister graduated four years ago.”
&nbs
p; “Sabine, you shouldn’t have. I don’t know what to say.”
“Meh, say nothing. I figured you were going to be tied up for a while with whatever Maeve was brewing, so I took some initiative. Besides, there’s no damned way I was going to cover all your classes for the next few days. I mean, I like you, Colin, but not that much.”
I chuckled as I stood up and gave her a quick hug. “You’re the best.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She crinkled her nose and her eyes narrowed. “I smell trouble coming. See you when I see you.” She bustled out of the place, turning up the juice on her see-me-not spell just as Belladonna was coming in the back door.
“Loverboy!” she shouted for everyone to hear as she walked through the door. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Hey, Bells, what’s up?” She puckered her full red lips and made an “oh” face as she swaggered over to me.
“So, we’re doing nicknames again, are we? Grrrr, I think I’ll call you ‘Tiger’ from here on out.” She reached up and pinched my cheek like I was a school-aged boy. Which, to be honest, was exactly how I felt at the moment.
“Please don’t do that,” I pleaded as I plopped back into the fluffy chair I’d been occupying and took a swig of cold coffee. The twinkle in her eye told me she’d been trying to get a rise out of me, and succeeded. I decided to change the subject.
“So how goes the wolf hunt?”
She sat in the seat Sabine had been sitting in just moments before, and turned her nose up as she sniffed the space around her.
“Ugh, I smell Frumpy McFrumperson’s nasty patchouli and jasmine body spray, all over these seat cushions.” Belladonna sat up quickly and moved to the chair next to me. “Ah, much better. Surely you know that fae girl isn’t right for you?”
My face felt hot as I hid behind my coffee cup and mumbled.
“What was that, loverboy? I couldn’t hear you with your face buried in that mug. And what are you drinking, coffee? I swear, I’m going to convert you to Kentucky bourbon yet, if it’s the last thing I do.”
She looked around to find Luther behind the counter, and held two fingers up as she pointed at the table in front of her. The old vampire rolled his eyes and tossed a towel over his shoulder, flipping her off as she turned away. Vamps didn’t care for Circle members that much, and Belladonna was fairly oblivious to the fact she was ordering one of the most powerful vampires in the city around like a chump. He more or less put up with Bells, but that was bound to piss him off. For someone who was so good at her job, she was damned clueless at times.
Luther sashayed over and set another coffee down in front of me, and plopped a Michelob light down in front of Bells. “Looks like you’ve put on a few pounds, so I thought I’d help you watch your figure,” he stated cattily.
He turned to me and crossed his arms. “That’s decaf, by the way. If you get any more caffeine in you, you won’t sleep for a week.”
“My my, aren’t we in a tizzy today,” Belladonna replied, touching up her make-up with her compact. “What’s the matter, Luther, going through a dry spell? I’m happy to give you some tips—we can fix that wardrobe right up. I’ll have you swimming in suitors in no time.”
Luther clucked his tongue lightly against the roof of his mouth and let out a sigh. “It’s called a classic look, sugar, and I’m just blending in. You should try it sometime. Good night, girl, you’re dressed sluttier than half the local nest whores I’ve seen.”
He turned on heel and walked off before Belladonna could reply. She chose to ignore his last comment, instead closing her compact with a clack and returning it to the snazzy leather handbag she’d placed on the seat next to her. I caught a flash of chrome inside the purse as she placed the compact within—one of probably a half-dozen firearms she had secreted on her person at any given time. I’d stopped asking where she’d hidden them all; the answers she provided created too many additional questions that I didn’t care to have answered.
She leaned in and crinkled her nose. “He sure is cranky today. Is he getting laid? I mean, really—nest whores? I wear real leather, not that naugahyde and pleather crap.” She took a sip of beer and waved the bottle at me as she sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, bouncing one high-heeled, steel-toed motorcycle boot up and down rhythmically.
“And you were saying? About that cow who is obviously no good for you?”
“I was hoping you’d let that go. Now, about that werewolf problem you’re having—”
She cut me off mid-sentence. “Speaking of getting laid, when was the last time you got some? You look pretty uptight yourself. I bet that fae girl doesn’t put out, does she?”
She swigged her beer and grinned, because I was blushing like no one’s business. I stuck my fingers in my ears and closed my eyes.
“La-la-la-la-la, I’m not listening to you, la-la-la-la-la!”
She must’ve leaned across the table while my eyes were closed, because I felt her slap me on the arm. “Alright, you big baby, take your fingers out of your ears so we can talk. You’re such a prude, sheesh.”
I opened my eyes and pulled my fingers out of my ears. “Thank you. Now, would you please tell me what you found out?”
“Sure thing. Seems that our mystery wolf is stalking people in and around Zilker and Town Lake.”
I rubbed my jaw and ran my hand around the back of my neck. That was definitely not good news. “That’s right in Maeve’s backyard.”
She made a gun with her finger and thumb, pointing it at me and dropping the hammer. “Bingo. And guess what else I found out?”
“Don’t tell me—the dead bodies are all fae?”
She took a long pull off her beer and set it down. “Yep. So tell me, why in the hell would the local werewolf Pack be killing members of Maeve’s court, and right under her nose?”
I chewed my thumbnail to help me think. It was a benefit of being of the MacCumhaill line; I inherited a bit of Fionn’s otherworldly wisdom, which was a perk he’d stolen from Finnegas by accident when they first met. Fionn had to suck on his thumb to activate it, because he’d burned his thumb on the Salmon of Wisdom and… well, long story short I chewed my thumbnail to avoid the uncomfortable stares that one got when sucking one’s thumb in public.
I pulled my thumb away from my mouth and tapped my chin. “I’m thinking someone in Maeve’s court is planning a coup, and they’re taking out her most stalwart supporters. Maybe they hired the Pack to do it for them, or they’re just making it look that way to start a war and further weaken her position.”
Belladonna shook her head. “I’m not convinced. I lean toward simple explanations, and Occam’s Razor says it’s the Pack. Care to tag along with me while I go have a chat with Samson?”
Samson was the local alpha. I didn’t know him except by reputation, but he was said to be a ruthless but fair leader. “I know you can take care of yourself, but there’s no way I’d ever let you walk into that clubhouse alone. Of course I’ll tag along.”
“Alright then, loverboy. But you’ll have to ride bitch, cause I’m not letting you embarrass me, riding next to my hog on that silly scooter of yours.”
13
Journal Entry—Nine Months, Four Days A.J.
I stayed up all night talking to Jesse. I mean, she couldn’t really answer back or anything, but I’m pretty sure I felt her presence. I just kept apologizing and saying how sorry I was.
Then, I heard a squeaking noise coming from outside. I looked out the window, and there was nothing there. But as I leaned in to get a better look, my breath fogged up the glass—that’s when I saw her message.
Written in the glass, there were just four words.
“love always no regrets”
I cried myself to sleep, and I can’t stop crying today. But it feels… good. Cathartic. I know she’s here with me, and that’s all that matters.
-McC
Austin, Texas—Present Day
Bells and I stood in the alley behind the coffee s
hop and argued for a good five minutes.
“There’s nothing wrong with my scooter!” I bellowed.
“It’s a freaking scooter, dork. The whole thing is wrong. Why can’t you ride a Harley or a rice rocket like a normal hunter, or drive a classic muscle car? I mean, you’d look damned good in a ’69 Chevelle Super Sport. Real nice, in fact.” She looked me up and down hungrily, tapping her lower lip with one long fingernail.
I threw my hands up in the air. “And how in the world am I supposed to afford that?”
She sighed. “Duh, by hunting. Look, I know this is a sore subject with you, but from what I can tell you have your, your—” she waved a finger around in the air in my general direction “—curse thingy under control. Not only that, but you live in a junkyard. Can’t that fat uncle of yours let you cobble together a respectable muscle car out of all that junk?”
“Whatever, I’m tired of arguing with you. Fine, I’ll ride bitch back. But don’t blame me when we ride up and the Pack laughs at your backup.”
“No more than they would if you rode up on that little scooter.” She tossed me a helmet. “Now hop on, loverboy, and hang onto me tight. Wouldn’t do to have you fall off and scar up that pretty face.”
She winked and dropped the visor on her helmet, and revved up the bike so I couldn’t offer a snarky response. I sighed and climbed on the back, hugging her tightly because I’d seen how she rode. Her bike was a modified Night Rod Special, and she squeezed every bit of performance she could out of the thing.
Twenty-five minutes later, we pulled up to a dive bar off 183, out on the edge of an industrial area that was mostly warehouses, chain-link fences topped by barbed wire, and concrete. As soon as the bike stopped I jumped off and yanked off my helmet.
“Oh, sweet mother of mercy, don’t ask me to ride with you again. You nearly got us killed—twice!”
She grabbed the helmet from me and tossed her hair back, checking herself in one of the bike’s rear views. “You’re still in one piece, so suck it up, cupcake. Besides, they have eyes on us already, so chill.”
