Dervishes Don't Dance: A Paranormal Suspense Novel with a Touch of Romance (Valkyrie Bestiary Book 2)

by Kim McDougall

  “I get a lot of class three fae creatures that need caring for. Most of them can’t survive in the city. And then a few I can’t even classify. Lately, I’ve had a dervish attach himself to me. I couldn’t shake him, so I made him my apprentice.”

  Susanna’s eyes were wide, and her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “A dervish? Aren’t those things dangerous?”

  I shrugged. “Only if you get them excited.” I didn’t enjoy talking about my critters face-to-face like this. I could blog about them all day long, but hearing the words aloud—I made a dervish my apprentice—just made me realize how crazy I sounded to other, normal people.

  “So what are you working on?” I asked. Work was usually a safe topic with alchemists.

  Susanna’s eyes lit up. “It’s pretty cool. I’ve recreated the Renaissance era blazing alembic, but with a modern twist, of course.”

  “I thought your work had something to do with gargoyles. Isn’t that why you wanted to examine Cyril’s body?”

  “Oh, it does. Hey,” she paused, spoon half way to her mouth, “you know that Guardian captain guy, Mason? Can you ask him to let me see the body? I just want to do a few scans. I sent a request to the Guardians, but they just returned it with a no. Didn’t even give me a reason.”

  “They like their privacy.” I thought about Mason and the look of betrayal on his face when he saw me at the funeral. “In any case, the funeral was last night. Cyril’s been buried.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Why do you think examining his body would help with your research?” Anything that would help me understand the gargoyles better—and Mason, by extension—was welcome information.

  Susanna scooped up the last mouthfuls of her soup before answering. “It’s kind of complicated.”

  “I would love to know more about your work. Maybe we could…um…meet for lunch sometime and you could show me your lab.” I twirled my fork, just to keep my fingers busy and forced myself to meet Susanna’s eyes.

  She quirked a smile that brought out the dimple on her cheek and said, “Sorry, but I’m into guys.”

  I wanted to bang my head on the table to knock some social grace into myself. I hadn’t had a female friend since Asgard. And that was Gunora, Aaric’s little sister, so it was more like a friendship of convenience. I just didn’t know how to do this girlfriend thing.

  “No, I mean not like that,” I said too forcefully and Susanna frowned. “Not that you aren’t attractive or anything…” I took a deep breath and started again. “Look, I’m just interested in your work. It sounds fascinating and I thought we could be friends. Maybe. If that works for you.”

  Kyra, stop talking.

  Susanna studied me for a minute, then laughed. “Okay. But I work at Hub in the mornings, then at my lab behind Abbott’s Agora in the afternoons. Dinner would be better. How about we meet at that little cafe as you enter the market then we can go to my lab after?”

  “Sure. That’ll work.”

  We ate in awkward silence, and I was much too grateful when a uniformed officer poked his head into the cafeteria to interrupt us.

  “Lowe is calling for all hands on deck. Some big announcement. That means all of you in the ready room in five.”

  I wasn’t technically a Hub employee, more like a contractor, but I wanted to hear what Detective Lowe had to say too. Maybe it had something to do with these takers the brownies had mentioned.

  Captain Glenda Lowe wasn’t happy. In fact, it looked like unhappy had taken up residence in her nasolabial folds. She scowled at the gathering of officers, alchemist techs and other Hub workers who were now shuffling into a room too small to hold them. Susanna and I slipped in and stood with our backs against the far wall.

  Under Lowe’s glare, the crowd settled down.

  “By now you’ve all heard about the explosion in Carterville last night. The clean up of the site is ongoing. But a ley-line was ruptured and until alchemist crews contain it, we need to be on the lookout for odd manifestations. You all know what that means.”

  Ley-line ruptures were bad. The ward around the city not only kept out aggressive neighbors like the opji, it moderated the magic by siphoning off the ley-lines. Odd things still happened. One block on the east end of the city was permanently stuck in winter. Sometimes, for no reason at all, small forests would pop up overnight and engulf entire neighborhoods. And once, a crystal formation had grown around a west-end deli. It grew so fast that it blocked the doors and trapped diners inside. But these oddities were mostly controlled.

  A ruptured ley-line meant that pure magic was spilling into the city. Until the alchemists could cap it, anything could happen.

  From her podium, Captain Lowe continued. “So be on the lookout for anything unusual and report it immediately. We’ve set up a special task force to respond as needed.”

  Someone from the front of the room spoke up. “What about the flood plains? I heard a bunch of nasties came out of there last night.” General murmurs of discontent answered that.

  Lowe raised a hand for quiet. “The fae have increased their patrols on the border of the swamp. I’ve been assured that they will catch anything attracted to the magic.” More grumbling. A few people here weren’t convinced of the fae’s ability to stop things bursting out of the flood plains.

  “When will the ley-line be capped?” said another voice.

  “As soon as the alchemists can,” Lowe said. “By tomorrow latest. But we can expect the manifestations to go on for some weeks.”

  “Will we be getting overtime?” someone else asked.

  Lowe’s lips pinched tight. “Overtime is not on the table yet.”

  The discussion continued with more questions about logistics. I was about to slip out the door and head home when one woman stood up and spoke over the noise.

  “Does this mean that the investigation into the missing fae is on hold?”

  The room went quiet. I craned my neck to see who had spoken, but could only see the top of the woman’s head.

  Lowe didn’t look pleased about the question.

  “Constable Hughes, there is no investigation. Fae go missing all the time. The queen’s court isn’t concerned, and so we’re not concerned. In fact, you seem to be the only one bothered here. I would even say you’re obsessed. Let me make it simple for you. Until further orders, all your energy will be spent walking your beat, looking for odd magic, not missing fae. If you can’t do that, let me know now, and I’ll find someone who can. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” came the quiet answer.

  Detective Lowe dismissed the meeting. I said my goodbyes to Susanna, and she headed back up to her lab. But I hung around the station lobby until I saw the dark-haired officer leaving.

  I caught up to her as she strode out the front doors.

  “Hey! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  She turned to me, frowning. Dark curls framed a pretty pale face with beads of sweat already glistening on her forehead from the heat. She was shorter than me by a good four inches, but she was curvier, and the curves looked good in her Hub uniform. A few eyes turned our way as we walked past, and I was pretty sure they weren’t looking at me in my grubby jeans and work boots.

  “I saw you in there.” I thumbed back at Hub Station. “Heard you ask about the missing fae.”

  She stopped in her tracks and turned to me. “Who are you?”

  “Kyra Greene. I work on contract for Hub sometimes. I was at the blast site this morning. And you are?”

  “Constable Hughes. Valerie.” She looked me up and down, then started walking again. “I shouldn’t be talking about that. You heard the captain.”

  “Does the name ‘takers’ mean anything to you?”

  That stopped her again. “Yes! Where did you hear that?”

  “From a brownie. It could be meaningless.”
/>
  “It’s not. The fae are all whispering about them.”

  I wondered how a human officer would know about fae whisperings, but then I saw something I should have noticed right away. Her magic had that lilting, joyful beat that was common to the fae. She was human with some fae blood or a full blood fae wearing a good glamor. I voted for the latter.

  “So who are the takers?” I asked.

  “Dunno. But they’ve got the fae community around Talon Street locking their doors even during the day. That’s my usual beat—Talon Street from Dennis Boulevard all the way to Fleet. So far, I calculate that a dozen people have gone missing, but they’re mostly homeless or addicts, so no one at the station wants to hear it. This is me.” We stopped at a bicycle parked in one of the bike racks that were all over town. She touched her widget to the rack to unlock it and mounted.

  “If I find out anything more about the takers, do you want to know?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “You can ask around, but no on will talk, especially not to a human.” She nodded and pedaled off.

  It seemed I would have to visit Talon Street soon.

  Chapter

  14

  Coaxing Clarence to lick hairball remedy off my fingers required some acrobatics. He hated the stuff. I needed more than two arms to hold him down and force the gooey paste into his mouth.

  Every few months, Clarence grew noticeably. The snake half of him shed his skin. The chicken half went through a full molt. During this time, he often groomed himself to excess and his digestive tract became blocked with feathers and skin. I’d discovered that cat hairball remedy helped. And since he was looking a bit scruffy, I assumed he was about to go into a molt. I was trying to be proactive, but he didn’t appreciate it. I reminded myself that this was one of the joys of caring for animals. No point getting mad at him for resisting my care. He didn’t know any better.

  “Come on, buddy. It’s greasy goodness. Willow likes it.” The cat opened her eye when she heard her name but declined to comment.

  “Gobble! Gobble!” Clarence slipped out of my hands—which were now sticky with paste—and tore around the cage.

  “Here,” I shoved the tube at Gita. “I’ll force open his beak, and you squirt some in.” I wrestled with him, getting a mouth full of feathers, but managed to secure him under one arm and pry his beak open with my other hand. Gita smeared the paste onto the roof of his mouth and I let go. He snorted and shook his head, spattering the cage—and me—with goo.

  I sighed. Hopefully he got enough down to make a difference.

  “You need a bath.” Gita sniffed. “Can’t meet the queen smelling like chicken-lizard.”

  “No, I can’t.” I headed for my bathroom, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach brought on by Gita’s reminder.

  Today I had an important meeting with Queen Leighna. The stories warn you never to accept a favor from a fae. They don’t mention that the fae don’t like owing a debt any better. They’re a tricksy lot, and that makes them suspicious of others. It’s best to accept payment for any favors done. So when I helped to uncover Prince Alvar’s plot to overthrow the Winter Court, Leighna offered me a boon.

  I’d contacted her office in the weeks after the opji attack, but Merrow, the queen’s advisor, told me she’d call when Leighna was well enough to receive visitors. The queen had been seriously hurt when the old condo collapsed on her after the battle, but she’d closed the last door between our world and Underhill, blocking further raids by the opji. I’d waited six long months to hear back from Merrow, and today I would get my boon.

  After showering and drying my hair, I found Gita in my bedroom pulling clothes out of my closet.

  “I already have an outfit picked out.” I pointed to the beige pants and short-sleeved sweater on my bed.

  Gita squinted one eye at me. “You can’t wear that to see the queen.”

  “Why not? Last time we met, I was mostly wearing blood and dirt. She didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Which is why you need to show up dressed like a normal person today.” Gita pulled out a cream-colored summer dress with a red poppy print. “This one.”

  How had that even survived in my closet? It should have died of fright long ago, all alone in the dark, surrounded by my blood-encrusted jeans and faded work shirts.

  “I wore that ten years ago. It can’t possibly fit.” I touched the soft fabric, remembering the only time I’d worn it to a friend’s wedding. What was her name? Bethany? It was the first year I returned to Montreal and knew next to no one, had no plan for my life going forward and no job. At least I still wore pretty clothes.

  “Try it.” Gita actually smiled. I thought her face might break. This new, happy Gita was still freaking me out a bit. She saw my expression and shoved the dress at me.

  “Fine, but it won’t fit.” I slipped the dress over my head. It fell around my body like it was meant to be there. The fabric was a soft cotton blend that fell just below my knees, with enough skirt to flare if I twirled.

  I twirled, and felt just like a girl.

  “I remember this being too snug.” I tugged at the bodice. If anything the fit was a touch too loose.

  “You don’t eat enough. You work too hard. This is what happens.” She poked me in the hip. “You lose all the good parts.”

  I found the red sandals that went with the dress squashed under my old running shoes and slipped them on. My sword, in its ratty old sheath, didn’t go with the ensemble, but I had no choice. I had to bring it. I decided to carry it, rather than strap it on and glamored it to look like an umbrella. A dash of lipstick and Gita pronounced me ready to go.

  “You look beautiful.”

  I reached out and hugged her, not caring if she smelled of brine and musty rags.

  “Thanks.”

  She gave a dry-eyed sniff. “Oh, be gone with you now.” And she headed back to her closet.

  Gabe’s eyes lit up as I walked through the office, and he let out a low whistle.

  “Damn. You should dress like that every day.”

  I laughed. “It’s hardly practical, though I suppose the poppies would hide the blood splatter.”

  Jacoby slipped his hand in mine. His fingers were warm and bony.

  “I comes with you, Kyra-lady?”

  “Not today.”

  “But I ams your ‘prentice!”

  “You are, but I’m not working today. I have a meeting and it’s personal. Something I have to do by myself. Understand?”

  Jacoby frowned but nodded. I crouched to meet his eye.

  “Can you help Clarence while I’m out? He needs a friend right now. Maybe you could coax him to drink a bit of water.”

  “Yes! I be’s a good friend.”

  “I shouldn’t be too late.” I squeezed his hand and headed out for my date with the winter queen.

  *

  The court gardens were a glorious array of wildflowers, even this late in the season. I suspected fae magic at work. The fae didn’t believe in confining the earth’s bounty in beds. Better to let nature dictate the color scheme and design. A narrow cobbled path leading from the parking lot to the main entrance was the only concession to order.

  Right by the front door, I stopped to move a snail off the path so he wouldn’t be squashed, then took a deep breath. I was stalling. It was time to face the queen.

  Contrary to popular belief, the Winter Court was not housed in an ice palace, but a large municipal building on the east end of the island. Built in the early twentieth century, the limestone and granite building was one of the tallest in the city, ten stories high. Its top floor scraped the underbelly of the ward. Outside, the style was all business, but inside, the fae had redecorated the old offices to suit their tastes. It was all soft lines, pale wood and natural textures. No chrome or glass.

  A smartly dressed goblin greeted me at th
e entry. When he glanced suspiciously at the umbrella in my hand, I expected him to demand that I relinquish my sword. I let the glamor drop. He nodded at the weapon but said nothing. The fae are less fragile than humans. It would take more than a single sword strike to take down anyone in this building.

  “Leighna is expecting you,” he said with a toothy smile. Not for the first time, I marveled at the familiarity. Leighna ruled the fae absolutely, and yet they all referred to her like a friend.

  I, however, was not fae and I wouldn’t make that mistake. When the goblin led me up to the penthouse apartment and presented me to the queen, I made sure to pull out the best curtsy in my repertoire.

  “Your Grace.” I wobbled in the pose and Leighna smiled.

  “Please, none of that pomp today. Let us simply take tea and chat like sisters.” She invited me to sit on a couch in front of a low table.

  I studied Leighna as another goblin poured the tea. She’d been reading reports on a tablet when I entered, and she still clutched it on her lap. Her hands trembled. The skin on her knuckles looked too big for her bones. She wore an ice-white tunic dress that did nothing to hide her thinness. Her hair had grown out since Mason’s trial and it hung in a neat bob, but her complexion had a sallow tint except around her eyes where it deepened to bruise-purple.

  Closing the gate to Underhill had taken a lot from her. I reached out with my keening and felt the weariness in her magic.

  She smiled. “Do I taste sweet or sour?”

  I reeled it in as if she’d slapped me. Few people ever sensed my magical scans. Her keening abilities were off the charts.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”

  “It’s quite all right. You can’t live with a bunch of fae and not expect to get magically probed once in a while. So, did I stand up to measure or are you going to tell me I don’t eat enough like Merrow?”

  I laughed. “My banshee roommate says the same about me.”

  “You live with a banshee? Ah, yes, the one who brought the condo down on my head.”

  I felt the need to apologize again.