She's No Faerie Princess

by Christine Warren

  Swallowing a mouthful of tea, Fiona grimaced. Not at the drink, which was actually deliciously warm and soothing, but at the prospect of doing anything to add fuel to that thing going on in her stomach. Unfortunately, the two women watched her steadily, and she got the feeling that neither one of them was likely to move until she spilled her guts. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her hands around her mug and gave a defensive shrug. "I'm afraid he thinks I attacked him. Sexually."

  The two women blinked. They looked at each other, looked back at Fiona, and blinked again.

  "And you think he had a problem with that?" Tess finally managed, sounding kind of choked.

  Missy reached over and patted Fiona's knee. "Oh, honey. The man probably just couldn't find the words to thank you."

  That drew a reluctant laugh. "Somehow, I don't think those were the words that popped into his mind. He said I used him."

  "All right. That's it." Tess picked up a cookie, half-rose from the floor, and reached over to pop the treat into Fiona's surprised mouth. "Chew, then spill."

  Much to Fiona's surprise, she found herself doing just that. As soon as she swallowed the last crumb of chocolate, she opened her mouth and let the whole story pour out. She told these two women everything, from the demon attack in Inwood Park through the toe-curling, mind-boggling, thigh-clenching kisses and up to the unbearable cab ride to the club. By the time she finished, she was leaning against Missy's shoulder, letting the Silverback luna stroke her hair while she sniffled like a human.

  "Oh, sweetie," Tess said, watching Fiona with sympathy-filled eyes. "You have landed yourself in a pickle."

  "Tess, I don't think that's very helpful," Missy scolded.

  "Maybe not, but it's true," Tess said, and Fiona winced, sniffling harder. "She made a major tactical error. She tried to apologize."

  "But he wouldn't let me finish. I tried to say I'm sorry—"

  "For what? What the heck did you do wrong? Use magic? Give me a break! He needs to get over himself." Tess shook her head and drained her cup.

  Missy nodded. "It's a good thing you didn't get to finish that explanation of yours. That would have really set you back."

  Fiona pushed back into a sitting position and stared at the two women. "Are you serious?"

  "Of course. Neither of us can stop you from feeling guilt, but we can tell you you've got nothing to feel guilty about." Missy's tone was matter-of-fact and she leaned forward to refill her mug.

  Fiona stared at her new friend, trying to spot the second head. "You're really serious?"

  "Lord, but he did a number on you," Tess said, shaking her head. "Yes, we are serious about Mr. Self-Righteous going a wee bit overboard. Look, did he know you were Fae?"

  Fiona hesitated. "Well, by the time I regained consciousness—the first time—yes."

  "Did you take any of his personal energy?"

  "No—"

  "And did he respond to any of these kisses you forced on him that he later objected to so strenuously?"

  Fiona nodded.

  "Then what the hell is he whining about?"

  "What Tess means—"

  "I thought that was pretty clear," Tess mumbled.

  "What Tess means," Missy continued, "is that you didn't do anything to Tobias that he couldn't have stopped if he'd tried. He's a big boy, Fiona. He knows how to take care of himself. In fact, that's kind of what he does for a living."

  "But he told me not to kiss him again—"

  Tess snorted. "Sure. After his tongue made a thorough exploration of your tonsils."

  "But—"

  "No buts." Missy gave her a stern look. "Tess is right. The man can't tear your clothes off with one hand and push you away with the other, so to speak. That's just not right. Not to mention being plain ol' poor sportsmanship."

  "Exactly. See, Walker's not really mad at you," Tess said. "He's mad at himself because he wants you so bad he can hardly stand it, but he has that ridiculous idea men get that he's not allowed to have you."

  Fiona frowned, but for the first time in hours, her stomach began to settle down. "You mean all those nasty accusations… all of those were just because he's frustrated? He made me miserable because he got his boxers in a bunch?"

  "Well, there's also the fact that from what you've told us, he's also had to see you put yourself in danger a couple of times, and that wouldn't sit well with him, either," Missy said. "Especially not when he wants you as badly as he obviously does. Oh, I'm sure he's telling himself he's feeling very ill-used over the magic thing, but that's just because he's a Lupine male, and trust me, Lupine males are all but constitutionally unable to admit when they're wrong."

  Tess sighed. "Believe me. They ain't the only ones."

  Eyes wide, Fiona pressed a hand to her suddenly calm stomach. She felt as if she'd just gotten a free ride from her aunt for a major infraction. A huge weight lifted from her and took the clenching in her belly with it. "I can't believe the nerve. I can't believe he put me through all this just because he's got issues."

  "Oh, honey. He doesn't just have 'sues. He's got big, floppy clown 'sues. The kind with the frilly white cuffs at the ankles."

  "I mean, let's not totally discount the fact that you freaked him out," Missy said, tempering things. "I'm sure it came as a surprise. Sure, there are stories here and there about the Fae gathering energy from events around them, but hearing is different from experiencing. Especially when I'm sure he figured the chances of him ever actually coming into close contact with one of the Fae were pretty remote. The last one around here was my friend Corinne's husband, Luc, and they haven't been in the city in years. And when they were here, they didn't have much time for socializing."

  "Hush, Miss. You'll ruin her budding mad-on." Tess made a face at Fiona. "Missy's a sweetheart, but sometimes she tends to be a little soft on the offenders."

  Fiona listened to both women and decided the truth might be somewhere between the two points of view, but this time her stomach remained calm. Apparently, not blaming him for everything didn't mean she had to shift all the responsibility to herself.

  "I'm not being soft on anyone," the luna protested. "I'm just saying that maybe if they each gave the other a little more understanding, they'd both be happier."

  "Right. So they can move on to jumping each other's bones."

  Fiona grinned.

  "Missy!"

  All three women jerked their heads in response to the shout, turning to see the door vibrate in its frame for a second before it slammed open. Missy jumped to her feet and hurried over to meet Graham. He wore the same clothes Fiona had seen him in that morning, but now he'd accessorized with two toddler boys. One perched on his shoulder, chubby baby hands fisted in his rumpled brown hair, while the other sat on Graham's left boot, arms and legs wrapped around his calf with a tenacious grip. Fiona looked from the little boys to the alpha's face and found his expression impatient but surprisingly unfrazzled.

  "Miss, I need you to take the hellhounds," he said, reaching up to detangle the younger boy's fingers from his hair with the ease of long practice. "I have to go out, and I'm not sure when I'll be back."

  Reaching out, Missy took her son from his father and settled him on her hip. "Of course, but what's going on? Is it pack?"

  Graham shook his head and lifted the other boy off his boot, setting him on his own two small feet next to Missy. She immediately reached down to take his hand. "I don't know. I hope not. Walker called. A patrol found something near the park. A body. Human. It was mauled pretty badly."

  Missy blanched. "He thinks it was an Other? He thinks an Other did it?"

  "He doesn't know. It could be. But there's also the demon that attacked Fiona to consider, not to mention your garden-variety human psychopath. I need to go take a look." He leaned forward and gave her a fast, firm kiss. "I don't know when I'll be back, but I'll try to call if it looks like it'll be too late."

  Fiona jumped up from the sofa. "I'm coming with you."

  Graham tu
rned on her with a snarl. "That would not be a good idea, Princess. I don't need you getting in the way, and Walker doesn't need you pulling any more of your tricks while he's trying to work."

  Since she had her hands full of her children, Missy simply drew back her right foot and kicked her mate solidly in the shins.

  "Ow! Shit!"

  "Watch your mouth in front of the boys," she snapped, glaring at him. "You deserved that. You should know better than to make snap judgments about people before you hear the whole story. Shame on you."

  Fiona's eyes widened, but she kept her mouth shut. Unlike Tess, who watched from her spot on the floor and snickered.

  Graham glared at them both. "I'm not judging anyone," he said, his teeth clenched. "I just don't have time to referee between these two when I've got a critical situation on my hands."

  "You won't be refereeing me," Fiona said, lifting her chin and meeting his glare. "I can control myself, but if there's a possibility that this is a demon attack, you need me there. We went over this just this morning. I'm the closest thing you've got to a demon consultant. Do you want to potentially let a trail go cold because you're sticking up for your boy?"

  Graham opened his mouth, intercepted his wife's warning glare, and closed it with a snap.

  "Rafe did mention that part of the conversation," Tess piped up with a grin. Fiona almost expected her to burst into flame from the heat of Graham's glare.

  Outnumbered, outclassed, and one false move from the doghouse, Graham gave in disgracefully. "Fine, but I'm leaving now. If you're not ready to go, I'm not waiting around."

  Fiona looked down at her sock-clad feet and swore. Missy saw the problem and, in an impressive display of motherly balance, toed off her tennis shoes without so much as shifting her grip on her sons. "I'm a six and a half. I hope that's close enough."

  "It'll do." Fiona stepped into the shoes without bothering to untie them. Since she wore a 6 normally, the half size of extra room made the job a lot easier. Then she looked at Graham and raised her eyebrow. "Ready when you are, boss."

  Muttering something unintelligible and uncomplimentary, Graham spun on his heels and stalked out the door with Fiona sticking one step behind him. She just hoped he wouldn't mind her staying there when Walker saw her coming. If her nemesis had to go through the alpha to get to her, it might slow him down just enough to let her live.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 12

  Graham had been serious about not waiting around for her. She practically had to run to keep up with his long-legged strides down to the curb to catch a cab. Once the taxi driver—the first Other one she'd ever had in the city—had dropped them off at the 79th Street entrance to Central Park, Graham moved even faster. If Fiona had been human, he would have lost her at the first branch in the path, but she wasn't human and she wasn't about to be left behind. She gave thanks for her Fae stamina and quickness as well as for Missy's tennis shoes as they trekked farther and farther into the park, moving from paved walks to well-worn trails and finally into the denser wilds of the park's copses and thickets. She was also glad her keen night vision could penetrate the deepening darkness and maintain a good bead on the Lupine's broad back. Otherwise, following him would have been impossible.

  She knew what he was following, too. His nose. Her own didn't have nearly the sensitivity to pick up on the particles in the air that spoke of Others, blood, and demons, but she knew Graham's was. She could see it in the set of his shoulders and feel it in the tension that gathered around him the farther he moved toward the site Walker had described to him.

  When they got close enough that she began to hear the sound of low voices in the distance and to see lights flickering in between the tree trunks, though, she didn't need the senses of a Lupine to know it was bad. Even without heightened senses she could smell the death. It took the heat out of her annoyance with Graham and brought back the unpleasant roiling in her stomach.

  She followed Graham through the thick underbrush, their progress nearly silent as they broke through into an uneven clearing that all but glowed with the tension of death and the reaction of the living.

  Walker stood at the far side of the clearing with his back to them, his head bent in conversation with a small, dark-haired woman with pretty features and delicate hands covered in bloody rubber gloves.

  He sensed Fiona the instant she stepped into the glade. His head shot up and turned toward her, his expression fierce.

  "What the hell is she doing here?"

  He moved across the empty space so fast, Fiona didn't even have time to put Graham between them. She could see the woman Walker had been talking to blinking in surprise from behind her lenses, but Fiona was more interested in testing Tess and Missy's theory. She looked carefully at Walker's face, searching every nuance of his expression. For a second all she saw was the old, familiar anger, but then her gaze shifted to his eyes and she saw something else. A glint of concern. Of fear.

  She felt a surge of optimism and nearly opened her mouth to call him on it, but Graham cut her off. He held up a hand as if trying to calm the other Lupine.

  "Save it," the alpha said. "I've already had this argument with her, and as she pointed out, all of us duked it out just this morning. We lost. You told me on the phone that you thought there was something odd about this kill. If 'odd' equals 'demon,' we need her here."

  " 'Odd' could be anything—"

  "Not anything Lupine," the woman in the glasses cut in, her voice carrying the short distance between them. "Pardon me, Alpha, but I can tell you for certain it wasn't one of our pack. Or a loner or an out-of-towner. The killer wasn't Lupine."

  Graham looked at the woman and nodded, as if dismissing her apology. "Don't worry about it, Annie. Just fill me in. If it wasn't Lupine, could it have been another kind of Other? Feline? Werefolk? Vampire even?"

  Annie shook her head. "Definitely not. Just the amount of blood left here on the scene rules out vamp. I mean, I'm a biologist, not a physician, and my anatomy classes were a long time ago, but I know enough to think this wasn't anything we're used to dealing with. Have a look."

  Graham approached the woman and the body, being careful not to disturb anything that looked like tracks or to step in the pools of clotting blood that trailed like fingers of blackened crimson away from the corpse. Fiona hurried to follow, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of once again having an angry and sullen Walker stalking behind in her shadow.

  She stopped when Graham did, less than two feet from the still figure. As she looked down at it, her first thought was that if she hadn't already been told it was human, she wouldn't necessarily have been able to tell. It looked as if it lay there in pieces, at least three or four large chunks, connected more by proximity than physiology. Something had torn through flesh and bone, tendon and sinew, leaving little recognizable behind. Fiona could see something that may once have been blue denim, now black in the dim light, and the gory, stringy clumps by Graham's left boot might have been human hair a few hours before. Now only assumption and optimism would attach that label.

  Fiona blew out a deep breath and clenched her hands into fists to keep them from pressing betrayingly against her stomach. That organ pitched once, then clenched into a tight fist and retreated to huddle against her spine in protest. It wasn't really the blood or that gore that bothered her; it was the emptiness of this thing that used to be human. There was nothing left, like the soul saw the desecration of its former home and fled as far and fast as the wind could carry it. Usually, human spirits clung tenaciously to their bodies and the world they had lived in. That was why their world had so many ghost stories. But in this case, not even a thread of that consciousness remained. A mercy, probably. If Fiona had seen her own body so defiled, she might have turned tail, too.

  "At first glance, I admit it does look like a Lupine or maybe a Feline kill. There are claw marks." Annie's voice seemed to fade in like a sound track that had been playing for a while before Fiona took notice. "But the
y're too large for any shifter I've ever heard of, let alone seen. At least eight inches long on average, although it looks like there are two smaller ones used less regularly. Here," she pointed where the throat should have been, "and here." Where the two largest chunks diverged, below the rib cage. "Anything with talons like that would have to be at least ten feet, minimum, and the biggest were I've ever heard stories about was just shy of nine."

  Graham watched with a cool sort of detachment belied only by the fisting of his hands at his sides and the leap of muscle in his jaw as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. "Is anything missing?"

  Annie shook her head. "Not that I could tell from a preliminary exam, but a trained medical examiner could say for sure. Even the uterus and the intestines look to be intact. Externalized, but intact. It's almost like parts were chewed or ripped to look like they'd been eaten, but this girl wasn't anyone's dinner. That makes the chances of this being a rogue Other kill pretty slim."

  Fiona frowned and looked closer. Annie was right. Fiona could see the sausagey line of the intestines partially obscured by a ragged bit of cloth with the stomach draped half out of the gaping hole in the abdominal cavity. Her frown deepened. Predators favored the stomach as a source of vitamins and minerals that could be found in the partially digested meal of the prey. It was usually the first thing to be eaten, but it looked relatively undisturbed for having been mostly removed.

  "Maybe something scared it off before it could feed?"

  "I don't think so. The pattern of the wounds is wrong. If something were going to feed, it would have gone for the abdomen and stayed there till it was done, but these wounds here," Annie pointed to the remains of the face, "barely bled, which means they occurred after she was already dead and after the abdomen had already been opened."

  Graham swore. "Then this definitely wasn't dinner."

  Annie nodded. "It's like I said. It looks like whatever killed her wanted people to think she'd been partially eaten, but had no real interest in eating her. It's weird. As if someone was trying to mimic an Other kill."