by Liz de Jager
‘It’s random.’
‘But there has to be a connection of some sort.’ I think about what the female twin at the club said to me. ‘What do all of these have in common?’
Kyle squints at the wall. ‘Well, the children are all human. And they’re all under eight.’ He shrugs. ‘No one seems to care about them all that much, in the end. I mean, no one else has linked them together.’
‘True. They are from all different races too – so it doesn’t seem racially motivated.’
‘You’re going to hate me saying this,’ he says after a few minutes of silence. ‘Do you think we should go to the police?’
‘I’d like to, trust me. But what do we have?’ I gesture to the wall. ‘We think there’s something there. We need one obvious thing to link all of them together. One thing, that’s all.’ I jab my forefinger at the map. ‘This is frustrating.’
‘So, let’s think about this. Where were these kids all taken from?’
‘Their homes. Usually in the middle of the night.’
‘And where are their homes?’
I gesture to the wall. ‘All over Britain.’
Kyle moves his plate of now cold pizza aside and stands up. ‘No, look at the reports I pulled up, Kit. Look where the majority of these kids are all missing from. Where they lived.’
I frown at him, uncomprehendingly. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Addresses.’ He grabs the files from me. ‘Look. The Greenwood Estate. The Lindhoff Estate. The Gate Estate.’ He shakes the folder in my face. ‘These are all kids from estates.’
I look at him blankly and he grumbles. ‘From poorer families or families that are usually in monetary dire straits. Now do you understand?’
‘So what, people are selling their kids?’ I scowl at him. ‘That’s not something I think is possible.’
‘It happened, Kit. All the time. In less developed parts of the world in olden times. Kids were sold on for money to buy food and to feed others in a large family. I mean, there are records. In some places like India, children are maimed so that they can go out and beg. And that’s recent. Nothing stops it from happening here either.’
‘No, I refuse to believe that we’re talking about people selling their kids. It just makes no sense to me.’ I tap my head. ‘Come on. These photos don’t show any neglect.’ I flip through them. ‘Look. Toys. Clothes. A bedroom packed full of books, games and pictures. That’s not someone who’s going to sell their child off so they can feed the rest of their family. Besides, I met this little girl’s brother, Marvin. He’s a bright kid, no sign of neglect. Apart from maybe a pair of hideous NHS glasses but that’s it, really.’
‘Then what? How do we explain this?’
‘Maybe the kids have some kind of gift, something this person really wants.’
‘Do you think it’s a paedophile? I mean, you hear about it on the news. Kids being taken, being groomed.’
I inhale deeply. ‘We can’t be sure. I hope not.’
‘Maybe we should talk to the police.’
‘Will they listen to us? I don’t know. What we’ve got is a group of kids who have disappeared. They are within roughly the same age group and have vanished in pretty much the same way over the past five years. We don’t know why they’ve disappeared. And until we do, I don’t think we’ll be able to get anyone to pay us any attention.’
‘Dad could talk to someone and make them take us seriously,’ Kyle suggests, drinking his tea and pondering the map. ‘I hurt too much to sleep. Let me see what I can find tonight. I’ll research those families and see if anything stands out.’
‘Okay. I’ve got to have a shower. Just shout if you need anything.’
The few stairs to my tiny room at the top of the house seem to take forever. I have a necessarily long shower and I drag my papers and laptop along with me and crawl onto my bed to work through them. I try not to think about Dante being ill and just why he’s so sick.
A part of me feels that I should be there, checking on him, making sure he’s okay. I know how badly I hallucinated when my magic settled into me and I can only imagine what it must be like for him. But, a voice tells me, you’re not a changeling. You’re human who happens to have magic, unlike Dante. Who’s not human. But – and this is a big one, and I know Jamie wouldn’t be impressed by this because it’s about feelings – I like Dante and thought we were friends. I like how he listens to me, how he argues, how he tries bossing me around and then attempts to make up for being an idiot. I got to know him as Dante, the SDI agent who is a bit rubbish but who has a great empathy and kindness to him.
I groan and close my eyes, opening them again to focus on the papers spread around me. Torsten’s USB stick sits neatly beside my laptop and I plug it in, queuing the music up. I find my headphones and plug myself in.
The music engulfs me in a wall of sound as I bend my will to figuring out why these kids were taken. I also access the folders Kyle had set up on the kids across the UK. I flick through their photos and the brief newspaper articles about them. It’s not comfortable reading and I feel strangely as if I’m invading the families’ privacy by doing so. When I search the online maps to see where they lived, like the Brixton estate, most locations look run down – in dire need of attention from the councils that run them.
As much as I hate it, I entertain the thought, for only a second, that Kyle could be right. Might whoever is ‘taking’ these kids be doing it with the help of the parents? Could it be about money?
I grab my phone and send Kyle a text message: Can you hack these people’s bank accounts to see if money’s been transferred to them?
You serious? You now think they could have sold their kids? he replies super fast.
I don’t know what to think. Can you do it?
If you make me some coffee.
No.
Make me coffee, and I’ll work all night.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dawn finds two Blackhart cousins staring blearily at heaps of bank printouts. Kyle’s room looks as if a paper mill has exploded across the breadth and width of it. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to see the floor again, there’s that much paper strewn across it – along with coffee cups, biscuit crumbs and empty Coke cans.
Kyle stretches his arms above his head, wincing, and I let out a huge yawn.
‘I’m tired.’
‘So am I.’
We grin at each other. The all-nighter we just pulled has really paid off. We discovered that in over seventy-five per cent of the cases, the parents had money paid into their bank accounts. And we’re not talking corner-shop change here, either. In some instances we found newspaper articles that corresponded with windfalls or lucky finds. The only drawback is that a lot of these windfalls happened before the kids went missing, literally a few days before or a week or two before.
‘Are we thinking blackmail?’
‘Could be.’ I yawn again and rub my face. ‘That opens up a whole different kettle of fish. And, to be honest, I can’t think any more. I need sleep. And food.’
‘Same.’ Kyle checks his watch. ‘Sleep till ten then I’ll take you for breakfast.’
I shake my head. ‘I’m okay to have cereal, really. I’ve been bought so much food recently that if I never look at pancakes or bacon and eggs again, it will be too soon.’
He laughs softly and nods. ‘Pass me some aspirin before you go?’
I toss him the box and go to my room. I check my phone. No calls from Dante or text messages. I send him a quick message, asking him how he’s doing. I send another one to Chem to see if I can talk to Marvin at some stage.
I crawl into bed and fall asleep in the blink of an eye. Mercifully, there are no dreams. Or if there are, I don’t remember them.
‘Kit, get up.’
Kyle looms over me and I jerk back in fright. His face is a mess of bruises.
‘You really need to practise karate more,’ I tell him as I push up against my pillows. ‘Especially the blocki
ng the blows to your face part. You look bad.’
‘These will go down but you’ll still be ugly,’ he quips, touching the bruise beneath his eye. ‘We forgot about Lan coming today.’
‘Crap.’
‘No rain check,’ Lan says from the door behind Kyle. ‘You were away last week and the week before. When do I get to sit and teach you?’
Lan is tiny and fierce. I fear for my life when she kicks off. I eye her warily and wonder how anyone so cute can dress so badly. She’s wearing puce leggings, purple DMs and a denim pinafore dress over an acid-green top. So many colours it gives me a headache. I’m not a fashion aficionado but even I know that some colours just don’t go.
‘We’re working a case, Lan,’ I tell her, getting up and stretching. ‘We don’t have time for school right now.’
Lan sucks her teeth at me and jerks a thumb over her shoulder. ‘Ten minutes. You have ten minutes to get ready. I’ll see you downstairs.’
Kyle shares my look of woe and slumps his shoulders as he clumps down the stairs behind Lan. I suppress my irritation and have a super-quick shower. Then I dress in the previous day’s jeans and a stretchy jumper. This one had a hole on the shoulder, marking where Marc’s sword flashed past me when I was too slow to duck his attack. Other people have moths, but my clothes face combat training with my cousins.
Downstairs Lan’s prepped bowls of cereal for us both and she’s got her notebooks ready.
‘You eat. I start.’ The look she directs us over the frames of her glasses brooks no arguments. ‘It’s exciting to learn. Remember.’
It’s late afternoon when Lan gives up. She was trying to force us to remember the Otherwhere’s involvement in the French Revolution. She grumbles about us being distracted and scowls unhappily when my mobile keeps buzzing with text messages – from Chem and Diane, confirming Marvin’s okay for us to come by. I hear nothing from Dante all day. I even ring and leave a voicemail during one of my loo breaks.
Lan is merciless and gives us homework to do about the Fae who sided with the Huguenots during the French rebellion, and the impact that had on the Fae diaspora as they fled France for safer havens such as England and South Africa.
‘My brain hurts,’ Kyle says, firmly closing the door behind her diminutive form and sinking down onto the couch and collapsing backwards. ‘Why is everything so hard when you’re beaten up?’
‘Shut up, you big girl’s blouse. Sit up. Do you want to come with me to meet with Marvin? He also has the whole geek chic thing happening. You guys could maybe bond.’
‘No, leave me alone. I want to stay here, cuddle my bruises and order in some Chinese.’
‘Can I have some kung pao chicken?’
‘What time will you be back?’
I pull on another jumper and yank my leather jacket over it. ‘Dunno. Midnight, thereabouts?’
‘You’ve not mentioned Dante the whole day.’
‘He’s still not doing well. I’m swinging past his place on my way to see Marvin, to see how he is.’
Kyle passes me my helmet. ‘Be careful, Kit.’
‘I’m always careful,’ I answer. ‘You get some sleep. Check on Jilly. See how she’s doing.’
He gives me a quick hug before I head out to the bike, my messenger bag swung over my shoulder. The traffic’s not too bad and only one Volvo driver tries to kill me by jumping a red light. I pull up outside Dante’s place just after six and find the place in darkness.
I ring the bell and wait impatiently for him to come to the door. One of his neighbours, a young woman in a business suit, walks past, talking on her mobile. She’s carrying groceries and smiles when she sees me.
‘You okay over there?’
‘Visiting my mate, Dante,’ I say. ‘When I left last night he was really sick. Have you seen him?’
She gestures me closer. ‘We woke up to some really weird noises last night. It sounded like he was fighting with someone. We tried ringing him but he didn’t answer and things went quiet again. He’s given us a key to look after the place when he goes away so I can let you have that, to check on him. I remember seeing you together before.’
Anxiety thrums through me and I nod mutely, wondering what I’m going to find.
I loiter on the doorstep of her small newly renovated house and she comes out with the key on a green frog fob.
‘There you go. Do you want me to come with you?’
It’s tempting but I don’t know what I’ll find so I shake my head.
‘I’ll bring it back as soon as I’ve checked on him. He was running a really high fever last night so I bet he was throwing pots at things that weren’t there.’ I try and smile at her and she looks a bit worried but nods.
I unlock the door and let myself in.
The place is dark and smells musty. I turn lights on as I go and find myself in the kitchen. The place is a mess. There’s broken glass everywhere and the leftover risotto I left him lies congealed on the floor.
Without thinking, I flip my wrist and the baton extends into my palm. My knife rests in my other hand and I prowl through the house, moving up towards the empty bedrooms. From a cursory glance they both seem undisturbed and I ghost along the shadowy hallway towards Dante’s room.
The door stands ajar and I use the knife to push it further open. Dante’s sprawled face down across the bed. His breathing is ragged and the room smells of wild magic and pain.
Before I move towards him, I do a quick check of the room and the adjoining en suite; no one else is there. I push the baton back up my sleeve but I keep my knife handy as I kneel on the bed next to Dante, getting a grip on his shoulder so I can flip him onto his back.
I manage with some difficulty and when I look at his face I swear softly. Two small horn nubs have formed high on Dante’s forehead, just inside the hairline. I lean over and turn the bedside light on. When I turn back his eyes are open and I’m startled by how bright they are and how very dark at the same time.
‘Kit?’ His voice is husky. ‘Is it really you? Or am I dreaming you too?’
‘It’s me, Dante.’ I grab hold of his hand. ‘What happened? Were you attacked?’
He looks confused for a moment but then shakes his head. ‘No, I had nightmares during the night. But I fought them. I won.’ The smile he gives me is sickly and weak. ‘I showed them who’s boss.’
‘I tried to get hold of you during the day. I rang and left voice messages.’
‘You did? I’m sorry, Kit. I didn’t hear.’ He sounds so lost that my heart skips a beat.
‘It’s fine. I’m here now.’
Try as I might I can’t stop staring at the nubs poking from beneath his hair.
‘Can you see them?’ he asks me, his fingers gingerly exploring his hair. ‘I wasn’t sure if they were real or if I was dreaming them.’
‘They’re real.’ I smile at him. ‘They are pretty cool, actually.’
He sits up with a struggle and leans back against the pillows. ‘So, I think I’m not human after all.’ His voice rasps and I pass him the water by the bedside.
I laugh softly and shake my head. ‘I don’t think you’re human either.’
‘Can you see any other changes on me?’ he asks me, spreading his arms. ‘Do I have a tail? Wings? Scales?’
I’m really laughing now. ‘No, you fool. You look fine.’
‘I have horns.’
‘Nubs. You have nubs.’
‘At least it’s two horns and not one.’
‘There is that. I’ve never heard of a Fae unicorn before.’
He laughs and winces. ‘Why do I feel like I’ve been fighting with Mike Tyson?’
‘I’m surprised you can even speak. When this happened to me I was out for a week and don’t remember anything of It.’
He frowns at me. ‘You’re a changeling?’
‘No, but my magic came on me like this, like yours did, unexpectedly. I fell ill for a week.’
‘And how do you know you’re not a changeling?’
‘I can handle iron, I can drink holy water.’ I clear my throat. ‘It’s what I drink when I’m at Milton’s, remember. It helps if the Infernal can’t snack on me if they feel the need.’
Dante looks at me for a long time, shivers and pulls his blanket up over his shoulders. ‘That is just weird. What’s going on with our lives?’ He draws a deep breath and exhales slowly. ‘I really am a faerie.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Marvin is waiting for me in Chem’s flat. He stands up when I come in and holds his hand out for me to shake but I lean forward and give him a hug. He stiffens for a second, before wrapping his arms round me. His grip is strong and brief and then we’re sitting down, looking at one another.
‘How are you doing?’ I ask him.
‘I’m okay, I think. I mean, I know the guy who took Tia is an actual person, you know? I could see him and everything.’
‘What about the other guy, Marv? The one who came into her room through the window?’
Marv blinks at me. ‘What?’ His brow wrinkles. ‘I don’t even . . . oh my God, I forgot about him completely.’
I suppress the urge to mutter under my breath because I am so done with the nasty crap the supernatural creatures pull on humans.
‘We’ll come back to that. What did the police say when you told them you chased the guy?’
‘They told me I was insane because I could have been killed. I told them to fu— . . . piss right off. It’s my baby sister. I had to try and save her.’
I grab hold of Marv’s hand and will him to be calm, letting the ring I’m wearing press lightly against his skin, allowing the magic to do its thing. ‘I need you to tell me everything you can remember about it. All of it.’
Marvin’s voice gains strength as he talks and he answers my questions patiently. He had been up late studying for a test the next day when he heard Tia talking in her room. Used to her dreaming vividly in her sleep, he didn’t think anything of it at first, but then she started laughing and giggling so he thought maybe she was awake. As both their parents were asleep, he thought he’d check on his baby sister.
