Now Walker's grief began to take on a tinge of panic. For something to have shaken up his sister and killed her best friend when Rachel was around to stop it indicated some seriously deep shit. Both she and Shelby were fully grown Lupine females. While he could have bested either of them in a fight, together they might very well have kicked his ass. That meant that whatever had attacked them sure as hell wasn't a human mugger and probably wasn't even a shifter. Given the events of the last few days, Walker decided he didn't like the sound of this at all.
"Yeah," he said, trying to keep the worry out of his voice but not knowing if he succeeded. "Just sit tight, kiddo. I'm on my way."
He hung up the phone and headed straight into the bedroom to grab his shoes and his keys. Fiona followed, her eyes wide and concerned.
"I couldn't hear everything," she said, watching as he sat down on the end of the bed to yank on a pair of socks, "but I know your sister is okay. Who isn't?"
"Her best friend. Jake's honorary aunt. She's dead."
"Oh no." Fiona's voice was soft and full of genuine regret for the death of a woman she hadn't even known existed. Walker felt a tiny corner of his heart ease just from knowing she cared. "What happened?"
His mouth hardened as he stamped his feet into a pair of battered work boots. "I don't know. She and Rachel were attacked on their way home from dinner. Rach made it home, but Shelby was killed. Jake asked me to come over, so I need to head out."
"Of course we do."
He looked up from yanking on his laces and saw her standing in front of him wearing a denim jacket over the casual outfit she'd been lounging in. While he still had one shoe to tie, she wore a pair of neat pink sneakers tied with tidy bows.
She shoved her hands in her pockets and watched him from those wide violet eyes. "Is it close enough to walk?"
"I'll catch a cab." He finished tying and stood, struck maybe for the first time by how tiny she was. Her head barely came up to his shoulder, and her body looked so delicate, he was amazed he hadn't broken her during one of his less restrained moments. "You don't have to come with me."
"But I am. You'll have enough to do dealing with your sister, and it sounded like Jake was taking this pretty hard himself. Your hands are going to be full, so there's no reason you shouldn't use mine."
He reached out and pulled one of her hands out of her pocket, linking his fingers again with hers. As small as her hand was, it felt just right joined with his own. "You know, this probably isn't the best way to go about convincing me you're not my mate."
"Just because I'm not your mate doesn't mean I'm heartless," she said, walking with him to the front door of the apartment. "I'll save my convincing for another time. Right now, I wouldn't even leave my uncle alone to face what you're facing."
Walker almost surprised himself with his brief snort of laughter. "Wow, so you like me as much as your uncle, huh? Now that sounds like a match made in heaven."
Fiona stood awkwardly in another woman's kitchen, watching while that woman buried her head against Walker's shoulder and sobbed as if her heart were breaking.
Jake had opened the door to them just a few minutes ago, looking both profoundly relieved and incredibly sad. He'd acted like any young man on the cusp of adulthood and held his shoulders straight under a burden that threatened to make them crumple. Fiona had taken one look at him and felt her own heart crack a little. Walker had just pulled him into a hard, comforting hug.
They had kept their voices low, the way folk always seemed to do around the dead and those who had loved them. It didn't make any difference, Fiona realized, whether you were Fae or Lupine or human. Grief left the same wounds on everyone, and everyone spoke softly in the face of it.
Jake led them into a bright, cheery kitchen completely at odds with the soft sounds of weeping that came from the woman seated at its small table.
Rachel Walker Chase had long, dark hair, a slim, athletic build, and elegant, tidy hands with nails polished a soft, candied mauve. That was all Fiona could see of her, because she sat with her elbows braced on the table and her face buried in her trembling hands, crying with soft, gasping sobs.
Fiona hung back, standing uncertainly in the doorway while Walker crossed the room in two short strides and pulled his sister up into his embrace.
"Aw, Rach," he said gruffly as he pressed his cheek to her hair. "I'm sorry, hon. I'm so sorry."
Rachel's arms locked tight around her brother's shoulders, and Fiona could see her body trembling with the force of her grief. "God, Tobe, I can't believe she's gone."
Walker murmured soothing nonsense against Rachel's hair and rocked her gently back and forth. Feeling suddenly like an intruder, Fiona began to wonder who would notice if she just slipped out. She wouldn't completely desert Walker, but maybe she should wait in the living room. Or downstairs in front of the building.
"They were best friends for like… forever," Jake said softly, the murmured words pulling Fiona back to reality. "They went to high school together and everything. Shelby was the maid of honor at Mom's wedding." His own voice sounded thick, and he had his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. He stood with his shoulders hunched as if he were walking against a cold wind. "I haven't seen her this broken up since my dad died."
All thoughts of escape drained out of Fiona. "I can't imagine what she's going through, but I do know it must be tough to lose your best friend. That's what happened when your father died, too, isn't it?"
The question seemed to take Jake by surprise, and he looked away from his mother to stare down at Fiona. "Yeah, I guess it is. I never thought of it that way before, but I think you're right. I mean, she used to call my dad an idiot and threaten to bash his brains in with a frying pan, but most of the time she was laughing when she said it. And if she wasn't, he'd say something stupid and silly until she couldn't help but laugh." The memory made his mouth curve in a small smile. "They were nuts about each other, but I always thought that was because they were both just nuts."
"It must have been tough to lose him. For both of you."
"It was the worst. I'm not sure who spent more time crying, her or me. But Uncle Tobe was there to take care of us. Or maybe to just bully us through the worst of it. We got through it."
Fiona put her arm around the youth's waist and hugged him. "You'll get through this, too."
Jake looked down at her for a minute; then he nodded and one of his arms lifted to curl around her shoulder. "Thanks, Princess."
They stood in the doorway for several minutes, quietly giving Rachel and Walker their moment together. Seeing Walker with another woman wrapped up tight in his arms stirred two very confusing feelings in Fiona. The first felt like jealousy, which was a feeling she'd never experienced before and which especially surprised her considering she knew the woman he was holding happened to be his sister. In the first place, Fae didn't get jealous as a rule. They tended to be casual about relationships, entering them with a burst of passion, then parting amicably once the flames had died. Even the few life bonds she'd seen among her people had a quietness to them that had nothing in common with the sharp, possessive feelings she had when she saw Walker in the arms of another woman. And second, she knew Rachel was his sister. Even if she hadn't, she could have guessed. The way he held Rachel looked completely different from the way he held Fiona. It was gentle and loving, but there was no heat. It looked completely fraternal, and Fiona had never mistaken the way he touched her for the touch of a brother. She could only put it down to shock, maybe. Their relationship was still new, and tonight's news had taken them all by surprise.
The second feeling disturbed her even more, because it bore a striking similarity to the things she had felt when Walker had been inside her and called her his mate. It felt like her insides had gone all soft and liquid, and a curious kind of tightness in her chest made it feel as if her heart were aching.
It felt almost like… love.
Oh no.
She was so not ready to deal wi
th that. Pushing the disturbing sensation aside, she refocused her attention on Jake. "Does your mother drink tea?"
"Huh?"
"Your mother. Does she drink tea?"
He frowned down at Fiona, clearly not following her train of thought. "What are you—"
Fiona pointed at the kettle sitting on top of the stove and asked a tiny bit slower this time, "Tea. Does your mother drink it?"
"Ah… yeah, I guess so."
Since she had nearly cried herself out against her brother's shoulder, Rachel heard at least part of that exchange. She raised her head and wiped a hand across her eyes to clear away the tears.
"I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't know you had invited anyone over," she said. Her voice was hoarse from weeping, and she sniffled as she tried to compose herself. "I'm not sure this is the best time to introduce me to—"
"Rachel," Walker interrupted. "This is Fiona. She's not one of Jake's girlfriends. She came over with me."
The other woman's red-rimmed eyes- widened, and she looked from her brother to Fiona and back again. "Oh," she said. "Well, it's… ah… I'm glad to meet you."
Fiona offered a tentative smile. "I'm sorry to intrude, but I thought maybe there was something I could do to help. I know things can seem pretty overwhelming in situations like this. I was just asking your son if you might like some tea."
Rachel blinked and stared back at her blankly. "Tea? Um, I guess…"
Walker shot Fiona a grateful look and guided his sister back to her chair at the table. "Come on, Rach. Sit down. Fiona will make some tea, and maybe some coffee." He shot her a hopeful glance and she nodded. "And you and I can talk. I know it's rough, but you need to tell me exactly what happened."
Under the cover of reaching for the teakettle, Fiona managed to catch Jake's eye. She jerked her head toward the empty seat on the opposite side of Rachel from Walker and raised an eyebrow. Jake nodded and slipped into the chair, taking one of his mother's hands in his. Satisfied, Fiona turned on the tap and filled the kettle.
"We, uh, we went down to the Bowery for dinner," Rachel said. It was obvious that she had to struggle not to break into tears again. "You know that little dive I used to drag you to on Tuesdays."
"All-you-can-eat buffalo wings. They shouldn't say 'all-you-can-eat' unless they really mean it."
His sister gave a watery laugh. "Yeah, well, they added some fine print the week after they kicked you out. Anyway, Shelby never minded going with me, and with Jake living on his own now, sometimes I just don't feel like cooking. So I called her up and asked if she wanted to get something to eat. Maybe see a movie."
Fiona searched quietly through the cabinets, not wanting to disturb the conversation. Or make it difficult to overhear.
"She said, 'Sure,'" Rachel continued. "Told me she'd meet me there and we'd decide if anything good was playing. If not, we'd come back here and watch something on DVD. Have a couple of glasses of wine."
Walker squeezed her hand. She held on to him and Jake with equal ferocity.
"So that's what we did. We had dinner, laughed, talked. She'd had a date last week, and it was a disaster. Some vampire she met at work." Shelby had tended bar at a nightclub in midtown. "He turned out to be a real jerk, which she should have known ahead of time, but anyway, we joked about it. She called him 'Fang-horn Leghorn.' Said he never got tired of the sound of his own voice."
The kettle was heating and the herbal tea bags Fiona found in the cabinets were draped in two mugs with the logo of a local public radio station. Taking a deep breath, Fiona turned her attention to the coffeemaker and pursed her lips. Why would anyone want to make coffee when they could buy a really fabulous cup at any number of little coffeehouses scattered through the city like wool on sheep? How exactly did an "automatic drip machine" work, anyway? She didn't think it was the right time to ask.
"We looked in the paper, but neither of us was interested in what was playing in the Village, and we felt too lazy to trek uptown, so we decided to come back here." Rachel's voice hitched, and she paused for a minute to collect herself. Fiona couldn't help willing the other woman just a tiny bit of added strength. "It was about nine thirty when we left the restaurant. Still practically lunchtime for that area, so nothing was really crowded. It was a nice night out. We decided not to take a cab."
Fiona gritted her teeth and, with a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure the others weren't watching, wiggled her fingers at the counter. Instantly the rich, warm scent of coffee wafted from the glass carafe. Another wiggle had the kettle hissing a happy boil. Quickly Fiona filled cups and brought them to the table. She slipped into the remaining empty seat, opposite Rachel.
The other woman looked down at her tea as if she couldn't quite figure out what to do with it. "I know it's not a great neighborhood, but what could happen to us? We'd both lived in the city all of our lives, and it wasn't like we couldn't take care of ourselves." She looked up at Walker, her expression confused. "We should have been fine."
Fiona could see the grim light in Walker's eyes, but he kept that anger from reflecting in his face. "I know, Rach. You couldn't have expected it."
"We didn't. God, we so didn't." She let go of her brother's hand to push the hair back from her face. She blinked to keep fresh tears at bay. "Even now I don't… I'm not exactly sure. About what happened. It was so fast. We cut through an empty lot. One minute she was laughing about Fanghorn, and the next she just started screaming." A shudder ripped through Rachel and she pressed her hand against her mouth. "I've never heard her scream like that. I never heard anybody scream like that. She didn't have time to shift. She didn't even have time to run. It just… tore into her, like she was made out of paper."
Rachel's voice broke, and she laid her head down on the table as sobs took over again.
Fiona watched, her own heart aching, as her lover's sister gave in to the swelling tide of grief, of shock, of guilt. Walker swore under his breath and shoved back his chair to kneel beside his sister's and take her back into his arms. Rachel clung and wept, and on her other side, Jake looked about ready to start bawling himself. Walker's eyes met Fiona's over the top of Rachel's head and the dark, helpless look in them made the crack in her heart widen.
Quietly and circumspectly, she wove together a spell and sent it winging toward Rachel's heart. Fiona couldn't heal the other woman's pain and wouldn't presume to. Like all magic users, she had learned to be cautious in trying in influence the hearts of others or their minds when their hearts were involved. Charming the doorman at her uncle's building had been one thing—he didn't know them and didn't care. But if she tried to wipe away Rachel's memory of her best friend's death, the woman's heart would know something was wrong. It would feel the stirrings of love and grief, and without the memory to put those feelings into context, she might not know how to handle them. Likewise, if Fiona tried to remove the pain from Rachel's heart, her mind would remember the events and she would wonder at her own lack of feeling at the recollection.
But Fiona could give the grieving woman some ease. Not heal the wounds but make them a little less ragged. Not erase the memories but bring other kinder, pleasanter ones to the foreground. Fiona watched while the magic worked, heard Rachel's wrenching sobs quiet to a gentle weeping, and saw the look of relief on Walker's face. He looked up at Fiona, and she smiled softly back at him.
"I'm so sorry, honey," he repeated, squeezing his sister tightly. "I know this is tearing you up, but you need to get it out. And if I'm going to find out who did it, I need to hear everything."
"I can tell you right now who did it," Rachel said. For the first time, anger began to compete with the pain in her voice. "I can't say I've ever seen a demon before, but I sure as hell recognized that's what this was."
Fiona froze. On the other side of the table, she saw Walker stiffen, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. Squick better come back with some answers. Soon.
"Describe it," Walker ordered, his voice gruff. "Every detail. Tell me exactly wha
t you saw and everything you noticed about the demon. Now."
Rachel's answer did not surprise either of them. It had definitely been a demon, one that stood about eight feet tall and proportionately wide, muscled like a stone giant but as fast as a cheetah at full speed. It had dark red skin that amounted to leathery armor, she said, and she should know since she'd tried to hurt it, to make it leave Shelby alone. Rachel had noticed horns, not the small stumps Squick had, but heavy, curving ram's horns that curled along the sides of its skull, protecting it from any blows to the head. Its legs had bent backward, like a goat's, and ended not in feet but in huge cloven hooves. The description made it seem somewhat similar to the first demon Fiona and Walker had encountered, just after she'd entered Manhattan through the Faerie gate. Unlike that monster, however, this sounded like an upgraded version. Demon 2.0.
A muscle in Walker's jaw clenched, and Fiona could see him struggling to be gentle with his sister, instead of barking orders and demanding answers the way she knew he was inclined to do. "I know you said you didn't see where it came from, Rach, but did you see where it went? What direction it left in?"
Rachel laughed, a hoarse, rough, incredulous sound. "Sorry, Bro, but I didn't exactly stay around to say my farewells. I saw Shel die. It was kind of hard to miss, considering her head landed next to me about twenty feet away from the rest of her. There wasn't anything I could do to help her, so I ran. I shifted, and I ran home as fast as I could manage it. I left her there. I just left her body there in that lot and ran because I was too scared to do anything else! I had Jake alert the pack as soon as I got home, but—"
"You did the right thing," Fiona said. She could tell by the way Walker's jaw had clenched shut that he couldn't manage to form the words just then, so she said them for him. "You said it yourself. There was nothing you could have changed by staying behind. If you had, there just would have been more people grieving tonight, and two women to mourn for instead of one."
She's No Faerie Princess Page 19
