Shadow Play_A Dark Fantasy Novel

by Jill Ramsower

  “What about his family?”

  “I think you know the answer to that, Rebecca. They can’t know—there is no way we could involve the human authorities. They cannot begin to dig into what caused this or why it was done.”

  As much as I hated his answer, I knew it was the truth.

  We got back in his car and he drove me home, allowing me to keep my turbulent thoughts to myself. Exiting his car, I turned back to thank him, my tone solemn and resigned. “I hated seeing that, but I appreciate you showing me.”

  “Thank you for coming with me, I'm sorry it upset you but you needed to know what we're up against.”

  “I understand. I'll see you soon.”

  “Sleep well, Rebecca.”

  When I walked in the apartment, a hazy smoke filled the room as Ashley frantically flew about in the kitchen.

  “Oh honey, you tried to cook for me.” I rushed to grab a hot pad and pulled the charred meat from the oven.

  “I thought I could do it, but man it’s hard to cook with one arm.”

  Her excuse made me laugh. She may have wanted to blame the broken arm, but I knew better. The result would have been the same whether she had one arm or three. Ashley’s antics in the kitchen were the life vest that I needed to save me from drowning in my own emotions.

  “I love you Ash, but please stay out of the kitchen.”

  She stuck out her tongue and jumped out of the way as I used a wooden spoon to swat at her.

  “Okay, okay! I’m out, stop chasing me, crazy woman. While you fix my mess, tell me about your day.”

  I forced strength into my voice and willed myself to sound upbeat. “It was great, sorry I had to work a bit late, I needed to help Fergus get some paperwork ready for a meeting tomorrow.”

  “No problem,” she said almost wistfully, her voice trailing off as she sat slumped in a chair.

  “You okay, Ash?”

  “Not really. My plane leaves tomorrow, but I don't know how I'm supposed to leave you here. I keep wondering if I should stay.”

  I immediately dropped what I was doing and looked up in surprise. “Ash, I’m fine! There is nothing either of us can do about the Fae and absolutely no way I would let you give up your job to babysit me here, so don’t even go there.”

  “I’m worried about you.” Her eyes were filled with the concern of a mom sending her baby off to school for the first time.

  “I know you are, and I love you for it. As crazy as it sounds, I want to be here. Plus, I signed a lease and God knows I can’t afford this place and another.” I smirked at her before I continued. “It’s like we said, there are dangerous people anywhere you go, just because there are Fae here doesn’t mean anything crazy is going to happen.” I did my best to be convincing because I would never forgive myself if she stayed and got wrapped up in this mess. “I promise you I’ll be good here, and we’ll talk every day, remember?” I reminded her of the reassuring words she had given me when I first told her that I was moving.

  She didn't look convinced but agreed reluctantly. “Okay, if you’re sure. My flight is just before noon tomorrow, I can catch a—”

  “Stop right there, don’t even think about it. I have already talked to Fergus and have his permission to be in late. I'll ride with you to the airport and make sure you get checked in, no arguments.”

  Ash gave me a sheepish smile and knowing neither of us was the sentimental type, I stuck my tongue out and crossed my eyes to lighten the mood and we both laughed until one of us snorted. And then we laughed some more.

  The next morning, by the grace of God, we somehow managed to get all of Ashley's new purchases to fit in her bulging suitcase and summoned a cab. We kept conversation light, despite the obvious weight of our impending separation. After I had helped get her suitcase checked, and we had said a teary goodbye, I was on my own in Belfast.

  14

  Once I was alone in the cab headed to the museum, I considered the implications of Ronan's suspicions while trying not to dwell on the image of the dead man. There was no proof, other than what Ronan had said, that Lochlan had any part in killing that man. As much as I wanted Ronan to be trustworthy, there was a tangible animosity between he and Lochlan. Plus, I couldn’t imagine Lochlan would be inept enough at anything he did to get caught if he didn’t want to. Oh hell, was I rationalizing away what Ronan said in an attempt to make Lochlan innocent? Why did it even matter to me? As much as I didn’t want to admit it, there was some crazy intense chemistry between us, but I couldn’t let my girl bits get in the way of logic.

  I needed a way to verify what Ronan had suspected. It was Friday, so the club would be busy and I debated the merits of pretending to be a customer and sneaking off to snoop in Lochlan’s office. There was no telling what I would find unless I looked, but I seriously doubted he would keep anything important out in the open. He was much more the lock-and-key type.

  If there was any truth to Ronan’s claims, then there was something worth investigating down in the basement, but I had no desire to get caught by a bunch of Fae men while breaking into their building. I could try to get information from the other men in the Hunt, but I was confident they would all be tight lipped. Plus, I was sure my snooping would get back to Lochlan.

  I put on my big girl panties and told myself to talk to Lochlan directly to confront him about the allegations and see how he responded. He would not appreciate me sneaking around behind his back, and besides, I was a strong, independent woman who had the confidence to address him directly.

  So why was I reconsidering the merits of breaking in?

  It was his fault. Lochlan reduced me into a simpering puddle of hormones. My self-preservation instincts told me to give him a wide berth, but apparently I was going to completely disregard those instincts and go straight into the lion’s den.

  When I made it to work, I discovered that Fergus had a personal matter come up and would be out of the office all day. Covering for him made the day pass quickly and gave me little chance to reconsider confronting Lochlan. However, instead of heading straight to the Huntsman after work, I went home to change and gather my courage.

  My quiet apartment was comforting after a long week and with no real rush to get to the Huntsman, I poured myself a glass of wine and put on calming music before changing into jeans and a sweater. I sliced some cheese and lay back on the couch to think about what I would say to Lochlan. The next thing I knew, a car horn startled me awake and it was already ten o'clock. I rubbed my face, attempting to wake myself up, and got to my feet. It was now or never.

  I put on a warm hoodie and caught a cab to the club. The lobby was full of Friday night club goers when I arrived and two men stood guard at the elevators. I squared my shoulders and tried to project confidence as I approached them.

  “Hey guys, I need to go up and speak with Lochlan.”

  “He's busy,” said the taller of the two, indifferently.

  Not letting it sway my resolve, I tried another tact. “It's important, I need to talk to him about the stuff in the basement.”

  The stocky man with dark hair and eyes glared at me with disgust. “You don't need to talk about shit. What you need to do is turn that pretty ass around and leave because no one here has anything to say to you.”

  I could feel my ears heat at the rudeness of his brush-off. Hoping for more luck with the other guy, I stared at him but he refused to acknowledge me, his eyes casually moving over the crowd as one corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. Indignation flared through me and I stormed out of the lobby into the cool night air.

  What assholes!

  If those bastards wanted to make it hard for me, I'd show them. I'd get my answers with or without their help.

  I may not have been a natural redhead, but I sure had the feisty temper of a redhead when properly provoked. Once I got stirred up, there was no stopping me. Back in high school my boyfriend refused to teach me how to ride this gas-powered scooter his family had out on their ranch. I was so furious that
I got on that thing and swore I'd learn on my own. Climbing on, my hand grasped the gas lever and that scooter shot forward like it was built for racing rather than leisure. I lost control instantly and drove straight into a tree, breaking my wrist in the process. Four weeks I had to keep my wrist splinted, all because of my short temper. When my temper came to life, my decisions weren't always rational and that night was a case in point.

  Hey, nobody's perfect.

  Knowing I wasn't going to get in through the front doors, I cased the building in search of basement windows or a rear entrance that I could use to get inside. My frustrations gave me tunnel vision that blinded me to any potential consequences. Nor did I register how similar the alley was to the one where we had been attacked by the draug.

  Entirely focused on my task, I strode determinedly past dumpsters and piles of trash to the rear of the building. Ronan had said they were keeping the Fae man in the basement for questioning—if he was still alive. Merely verifying his existence and seeing who was allowed in with him would help me determine how much of Ronan's suspicions were truth and how much were unfounded speculation.

  Who knew, maybe the captured Fae would be more willing to give information to a human girl than he would to the Hunt and I could actually help the investigation. If I wasn't going to get to confront Lochlan face-to-face, the club basement would be the next best source of information.

  A single light on the back side of the building illuminated an old metal door. My heart pounded as I took hold of the door handle, praying it was unlocked. As I turned the handle, initial resistance had me cursing my luck, but before I had even finished the thought, there was a faint clicking sound as the handle gave way, the door pulling open.

  Inside was a dark hallway and I could hear the music and chatter from the front lobby carry through the empty halls. Stepping through the doorway sent a brief shock of pain through my body. My head swung around searching for the source of the pain but I was alone and I could find no evidence of a threat. Later I would recognize the discomfort of walking through a ward, but that night I didn't have the time or interest to analyze what had happened.

  I regained my bearings, pulse pounding in my ears, and quietly searched for a stairwell to the basement. Once I located it, I made my way down the stairs to the basement landing, which was a well-lit space around ten feet by six feet. Before I could open the door, masculine voices approached. I would never make it to the main floor in time and there was no place to hide in the stairwell. Without any other options, I backed into the corner next to the door. It would hide me when the door opened, but once it closed, there would be no chance of concealing myself. I pressed my sweaty hands to my black jeans, and prayed that by some miracle, the men wouldn't see me. When the door opened, I froze, not even taking a breath as two men entered the stairwell and proceeded up the stairs.

  I watched as Liam and another man casually walked up the stairs, absorbed in conversation. The men reached the landing and stopped as Liam finished something he was saying. My eyes were glued to them in panic, but they continued as if everything was normal. The eyes of the man walking with Liam briefly fell where I stood when they rounded the landing, but he never made any indication that he spotted me when he clearly should have.

  Not until the ground-floor door click shut did I exhale the air that I had been holding in my burning lungs. There was no way that I shouldn’t have been seen, and the only explanation I could conceive of was the necklace protected me, keeping me hidden. I knew Ashley had doubts about the necklace, but as far as I was concerned, there was no other explanation for what had happened.

  I pressed open the basement door just enough to peek into the hallway. Seeing it unoccupied, I stepped inside and quietly closed the door and walked down the hall. Almost immediately I started to hear a low keening, like the whine of an injured dog. Keeping close to the wall, I cautiously continued in the direction of the sound but froze when I heard a low voice rumble in the same direction. After a moment of silence, I resumed walking and finally neared the room where I thought the sounds had come from. The door was not closed shut, but it was also not cracked enough for me to see inside. Ear-piecing shrieks had me covering my ears but it wasn’t long before the screaming stopped abruptly and the silence was accented with the sickening thud of a body hitting the ground. My hands left my ears and whipped around to cover my mouth. Terror tore through my body and I desperately tried to keep from hyperventilating.

  “He had no loyalty, just a paid grunt.”

  I was fairly certain the callous voice belonged to Michael and that made me hopeful. Perhaps Ronan’s claims that Lochlan wouldn’t allow anyone access to the prisoner were inaccurate, and if that was the case, his entire argument could be flawed.

  “He still had to die, we can’t have him out running his mouth.”

  I immediately recognized Lochlan’s voice and closed my eyes at the implication. Why would he have to kill the Fae? What information would he need to keep the Fae from sharing—could it be that Lochlan was involved in opening the portals?

  “The portal will be open tomorrow and our timing will be crucial,” Michael commented after a brief pause.

  Surely this was confirmation of what Ronan had claimed—Lochlan and Michael were working together to let in the Unseelie. And I was spying on them down in the basement of their building. I needed to get out, fast.

  “I’ll take care of it, this time it will work,” Lochlan said in a low, determined voice.

  I needed to leave, but I told myself that I had to take a peek in the room—to be absolutely certain. Ever so gently, I pressed the door forward just enough to see into the room and was miraculously able to do so without a sound.

  It was small and appeared to be an interrogation room of sorts with concrete floors and bare white walls. Lochlan and Michael stood in the room, and at their feet was the remains of a man who lay in a pool of blood, his body mutilated.

  I gasped and both men whipped around in my direction. Falling on my butt, I scuttled backwards in a crab walk. I only managed to get a few feet away when the door flew open and Lochlan’s hard eyes seized mine.

  “You’re the one bringing them in!” I breathed out with shock and horror.

  His face contorted, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, as he lifted me in the air.

  “Let me go! Get away from me, you fucking monster!” I struggled for everything I was worth, kicking and hitting anything I could reach in an attempt to get free of his grasp.

  Barely fazed by my struggles, he threw me over his shoulder and carried me into a room next to the one containing the dead Fae. Slamming the door shut, he set me down and blocked the door, face cool and detached. He stood inhumanly still as I scanned the small, empty room and assessed my lack of options.

  “You listen in on two minutes of a conversation and you think you know anything?” His voice was laced with danger and I backed myself against the opposite wall.

  “I saw the portal. Ronan showed me the sacrifice, cut open just like the Fae in that room. I know you’ve been sneaking in Unseelie. You said he had no loyalty, but look at yourself. You’re supposed to be keeping them out, not smuggling them in!” As terrified as I was, my anger at his betrayal swelled inside me, making me brash enough to confront him.

  “It seems you know everything then, don’t you?” He strode over to me and as he did, his hands reached behind his back and pulled out a gun from the back of his pants.

  My legs shook like they were going to give out, but then he surprised me.

  Instead of pointing it in my direction, he offered me the handle. “If you’re so confident I’m a danger, here’s a gun, shoot me.”

  Despite my confusion and the resounding feeling that it was a trap, I took hold of the warm metal and he pressed his chest to the barrel.

  “Why are you doing this?” My question was hardly a whisper.

  He leaned even farther toward my face and spoke with a deadly calm. “I don’t know what you thought you he
ard in there, but you are gravely mistaken. We did what we could to get information out of that piece of shit about who was opening the portals, and no, it’s not a pretty job. It was poetic justice—he died in the same way that he had killed the man in the warehouse. It was a fitting end, don’t you agree? If we had let him go, he could warn whoever is behind all this that we knew about the portal opening and we would miss our opportunity to trace the magic. We didn’t get there in time to trace the source, so it’s crucial we get to this one before it closes.” He stepped back and turned toward the door as my arm holding the gun dropped to my side.

  “It’s not my fault everything Ronan said lined up with what I witnessed. Maybe if you shared with me, I wouldn’t have to question your motives.”

  Before I knew it, he had whipped around and was back in front of me. “What do you think this is? Some kind of partnership? You think we should meet over coffee and discuss the investigation?” His voice rose to a near shout, anger clearly written on his face. “We are the Wild Hunt and it’s our job to hunt down those responsible, not yours.”

  I spoke softly, not wanting to anger him further. “I was just trying to figure out who I’m supposed to trust in all this.”

  “Ronan tells you I’m a monster and you were all too ready to believe it.”

  “If I had believed it, I wouldn’t have snooped to see if it was the truth.”

  “You know what, you want information, I’ll give you some. Ronan spent a decade planting the seeds to end almost a hundred years of peace in Ireland. Whispering tales and twisting men’s minds to set Protestants against Catholics, Irish against British, men against women and fathers against sons. So many factions that after his machinations, the place was a war zone for centuries. When I discovered what he was doing, I confronted him and he gave me this.” He brought his hand up to indicate the scar on his eyebrow. Now that he pointed it out, it occurred how odd it was to have a scar when the Fae healed so quickly. “It was a blade laced with a liquid lead polymer, the skin couldn’t heal fully. I was fortunate he was not able to strike where he had intended.”