Fang Ten

by Emery Belle

  The sparrow tipped its head at me, then disappeared in a flash of light. While I waited for Kellen to arrive, I decided to take a quick look through the rest of the house to see if there were any more clues to Hattie’s whereabouts. For all I knew, this whole thing was a big misunderstanding and I’d find her snoozing soundly in her bed. Was it really outside the realm of possibility that she’d cut herself shaving and had dripped blood onto the floor without realizing it? Absolutely not, I told myself firmly.

  But those fingerprints…

  From my position by the window, I could easily see that the main living space was empty, and a quick glance into the kitchen confirmed the same. That left the single bedroom, which was situated at the end of the hallway past the bathroom. As I walked down the hallway, I kept my eyes glued to Hattie’s closed bedroom door, trying to quell the uneasy feeling rolling around in my stomach as I passed the chaotic scene in the bathroom without looking inside.

  I knocked twice, firmly, not surprised when she didn’t answer, then took a deep breath and pushed open the door before I lost my nerve. The bedroom was surprisingly spacious, and looked like it had been recently tidied up. The queen-sized bed was made, with decorative pillows stacked on the top end and a rolled-up quilt in many shades of green stretched across the bottom. A half-empty water glass was perched on the nightstand on the left alongside an open book, a reading lamp, a plate with a few crumbs left on it, and a wand I recognized from my time at the daycare as Hattie’s. Beside the bed was a small table and two chairs, and judging from the two empty wine glasses I could tell that Hattie had recently entertained company. Probably male company.

  In fact… I glanced toward the second nightstand, which had the same water glass, the same empty plate, and a hat. A very familiar-looking hat…

  My heart stopped.

  I lunged for the nightstand, but at that precise moment the front door burst open and I heard Kellen’s booming voice calling out for me. Several pairs of footsteps pounded down the hallway, heading straight for the bedroom, and I could hear Kellen swearing softly as he passed the bathroom. The footsteps stopped for a few seconds, providing me with just enough time to swipe the hat off the nightstand and tuck it inside my jacket. I rammed the zipper up just as Kellen appeared in the doorway—in human form, thank the heavens—followed by two other officers.

  He narrowed his blood-red eyes on me and crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest, steam spiraling gently from his nose before dissipating in the air between us. “Explain,” he commanded, sweeping his gaze over me. I crossed my own arms over my chest, a cold sweat breaking out over my forehead as I tried to conceal the lump beneath my jacket without being too obvious.

  Voice shaking, I gave him a quick rundown of the day’s events—Astrid’s request that I locate the puppets, the endlessly running shower, the overturned bathroom—and when I had finished, he sighed heavily and pinned me with his gaze. “What I don’t understand,” he said with a snort of annoyance that caused more steam to escape his nostrils, “is why every time a dead body shows up, I find you on the scene.” He lovingly stroked the baton strapped to his waist as he studied my face, and I shifted uncomfortably, still trying to conceal the hat, whose pointy tip had wormed its way out of the top of my jacket.

  “There is no dead body this time,” I pointed out, shoving the hat back down as subtly as I could; fortunately, Kellen seemed not to notice. “For all we know, Hattie’s not even…” I trailed off when I realized he was no longer listening; instead, he’d swung his gaze to the officer standing behind him and was barking orders.

  With his attention momentarily diverted, I took the opportunity to continue subtly canvassing the room, sweeping my gaze into every nook and cranny, my pulse skittering out of control as I whispered feverish prayers beneath my breath that the only incriminating piece of potential evidence was the one still tucked beneath my jacket. Finding nothing, I breathed out a sigh of relief and turned back to Kellen, who, I realized with a jolt of alarm, was watching me carefully.

  “Everything okay?” he asked in a tone so completely foreign-sounding coming out of his mouth that my jaw dropped open in shock. Sure, Kellen hadn’t been displaying quite the same amount of animosity toward me as usual since I’d solved murder number two, but right now, he sounded almost… nice? Concerned? I thought of Lady Winthrop slipping me the address of Homer Vale, the elf who specialized in mind healing, and my cheeks heated. Did I look like I was losing it?

  “I’m fine,” I said, spreading my arms wide in a trust-me-I’m-fine gesture that was rendered slightly less believable by the manic smile that accompanied it. “Why do you ask?”

  But Kellen didn’t respond, because his eerie eyes were trained on the ground at my feet. Frowning, I followed his gaze, and my heart stopped for the second time that morning, for there, on the ground, was the hat that must have slid from beneath my jacket when I opened my arms.

  An orange hat, to be more specific.

  An orange top hat.

  That definitely, positively, absolutely belonged to Glenn.

  Kellen raised his eyes to my face, his teeth bared menacingly, his thick fingers gripping his baton, all traces of concern gone. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”

  Chapter 5

  I had never committed a crime before, unless you counted that one time in second grade when I swiped a bag of salt-and-pepper potato chips from Peter Portmeyer’s lunch box, but to be fair, he had it coming for dipping the ends of my pigtails in glue. I’d also made it a point to replace the potato chips a week later with a roll of Oreos, which, to be even more fair, was far superior.

  But now, riding on the back of Kellen’s nightswallow, I had to face facts: I was an actual criminal. I had purposely concealed evidence, and now I was probably going to jail. I swallowed down my panic and squeezed my eyes shut as the nightswallow dipped toward the ground, spreading its leathery red wings wide as it swept onto the front lawn of the police station.

  As I stumbled off its skeletal back, Kellen hopped down with ease, one hand clutching Glenn’s hat, the other gripping my wrist. He hauled me into the station, past the front desk, and into a gloomy interrogation room lit by a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

  “Stay here,” he growled—as if I had any other choice—before stomping into the hallway and slamming the steel door behind him. He had left Glenn’s top hat sitting on the table in front of me, its tip pointed at me accusingly.

  But I didn’t feel guilty, only sick with worry that I’d been caught. Glenn had nothing to do with Hattie’s disappearance. I was sure of it. And if I hadn’t tried to protect him, then I’d never be able to look at myself in the mirror again.

  A commotion outside the door drew my attention, and I pressed my nose against the small block window to find Kellen storming down the hallway toward the adjacent interrogation room with a gnome slung over his shoulder. The gnome was beating his fists against Kellen’s back and trying to dig his razor-sharp teeth into the minotaur’s shoulder, but Kellen didn’t even bat an eye as he practically hurled the gnome into the room and slammed the door behind him. Kellen paused outside the door for a moment, as if to collect himself, then glanced up and saw me watching him through the window. An ugly smile spread across his face, highlighting his bullish features.

  I shrank back from the window as he stomped across the hallway toward my interrogation room and threw open the door just as I scurried back behind the table and perched nervously on the edge of the folding metal chair. He pressed his hands against the table, looming over me, and bent his face down until our noses were practically touching.

  “So…” he said, letting the word linger in the air, waiting for me to crack and confess that I’d taken the hat from the potential crime scene.

  I clamped my mouth shut and folded my arms. If he thought I was going to make this easy on him, then he’d have a much better chance of trying to convince a troll to brush its teeth. He straightened up, taking in my defensive p
osture with a narrow sweep of his eyes, and decided to try a different tactic.

  “Tell me the truth, Wren, and I assure you that I’ll go easy on you,” he said, attempting a crooked smile that only made him look, if possible, even more threatening. “Where did you get that hat, and why were you trying to hide it from me?”

  A tick was going in his jaw, but his voice remained cool and collected… although I could tell from his strained expression that it was taking a great amount of effort for him not to whack me over the head with his baton.

  “It’s mine,” I said, smiling sweetly. “I brought it with me to Hattie’s house because it looked like it might rain.”

  Kellen snorted in disbelief, and I waved away the cloud of steam that puffed toward my face. “You expect me to believe,” he said, holding up the hat, “that you wear an orange top hat to protect yourself from the rain? On a perfectly cloudless day?” He growled low in his throat, and it took all the courage I possessed to offer him a nonchalant shrug.

  “I grew up in Oregon. You never know when the weather might turn.”

  Kellen closed his eyes briefly, willing himself to be patient, then held out the hat to me. “Try it on.”

  My heart sank. “Sorry?”

  The police chief smirked and slapped the hat down on the table in front of me. “I think you heard me the first time.”

  I reached for it tentatively, running my fingers along the soft fabric, stalling for time. Kellen rested his hip against the edge of the table and watched me from beneath raised brows, his expression clearly saying I’ve got all the time in the world. As if to demonstrate his point, he slid a stick of gum from his pocket, unwrapped it while keeping his eyes glued to mine, and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly, methodically, almost obscenely.

  I waited for him to say something.

  He didn’t.

  The seconds ticked by, each one more excruciating than the last.

  Finally, when I could stall no longer, I heaved a loud sigh, as if his request was ridiculously inconvenient, and slipped the hat onto my head. It immediately slid down over my eyes, blanketing my world in neon orange, and Kellen let out a whoop of triumph.

  “I knew it,” he said, whipping off the hat and pointing a thick finger squarely in my face. He lowered his voice to a menacing hiss. “Now tell me who it belongs to.”

  “I don’t know,” I said stubbornly. “I just found it at Hattie’s and I liked it, so I thought I’d take it home.” I shrugged. “I guess I’m a thief.”

  He let out a growl of frustration, then picked up the hat and threw it as hard as he could toward the wall; it bounced off and crumpled sadly to the floor. “Get up,” he demanded, striding over to me and yanking out my chair. I stood up just before the chair toppled over, and had just started letting out a noise of protest when he sliced his hand through the air for silence, his eyes growing redder with rage.

  I zipped my lips—I wasn’t stupid enough to keep pressing my luck—and allowed myself to be led from the room by the arm. Kellen kicked the door closed behind us, but not before grabbing the hat from the floor. He practically dragged me down the hallway toward the cell block, opened the steel door separating us from the inmates, and pushed me toward the first one on the left, directly across from the mermaid I’d last seen when I paid a jailhouse visit to Preston, the wizard Kellen had erroneously arrested for Emeril the yeti’s death.

  The mermaid batted her eyelashes seductively at Kellen and flopped her iridescent tail around in the tank of water she was perched on; he ignored her and shoved me through the crisscrossing red lights that took the place of bars. They sizzled when I passed through them, and an unpleasant tingling sensation ran across my skin.

  Right before Kellen turned to leave, he shoved his arm through the lights and rammed Glenn’s top hat onto my head. “Since you like it so much,” he growled, “you can wear it until you decide to tell me the truth.” Then he turned on his heel, angry spurts of steam spiraling from his nostrils, and walked away.

  “Don’t I even get a phone call?” I shouted after him, panic starting to set in as a centaur with wild hair and even wilder eyes galloped up to the bars of light in the adjacent cell, throwing himself at them again and again in an attempt to get to me. “I have rights, you know!”

  “Not here, you don’t,” the mermaid said in a bored voice, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulders. She reached into her tank and scooped up one of the wriggling fish swimming in it, then tipped back her head and flung it into her mouth in one smooth motion. She eyed me with interest. “I’ve seen you here before. What’s your name?”

  Ignoring her, I slid down against the back wall of my cell. It was dank and chilly, and smelled like a combination of wet fur and… rotting metal? Wrinkling my nose, I glanced around the cell until I spotted a forgotten slab of graying meat a few feet away from me on the floor. I pulled my shirt over my nose and scooted away from it until my back rested against the steel bed that boasted a single threadbare sheet and a lumpy pillow.

  A howl somewhere down the line of cells caused me to nearly jump out of my skin, and the mermaid, who was still staring at me from her tank, snickered with amusement before diving to the bottom, her hair floating around her head like sunshine-colored seaweed. Trying my best to ignore the snarls and grunts coming from the unseen inhabitant of the cell next to mine, I flung Glenn’s hat off my head and curled myself into a ball, trembling with fear.

  I must have fallen asleep, for I jerked upright sometime later at the sound of a cart rattling down the cell block, being pushed by a bored-looking officer with a wide, toad-like face and skin the color of glue. “Here you go,” he said when he came to my cell, shoving a tray of food that smelled like boiled cabbage through the crisscrossing lights. I looked down at the unappetizing lumps of some kind of unidentifiable meat and vegetables and then back up at the officer.

  “I need to make a phone call.”

  He shrugged, then flapped the fingers of one hand while using the other to pick something out from between his front teeth. A sparrow appeared beside my head, its wings fluttering up and down, a piece of blank paper and a small pencil tucked inside its beak. I took the paper and scrawled a message to Garnet, pleading for her to come down to the jail, preferably with the sack of coins Monty had given me. Did a paranormal jail accept bail money? I was about to find out.

  The sparrow disappeared and the officer wheeled the cart away, leaving me to pick at my food and strain my ears for any sound of Garnet’s voice, though I knew she couldn’t possibly get to the jail that quickly. As the minutes ticked by with no sign of her, I began to grow desperate, a cold sweat settling over my skin as I imagined what it would be like to be locked in one of these cells at night, surrounded by dangerous creatures, the space around me plunged into darkness so thick I could barely see my fingers in front of my nose…

  The steel door to the cell block swung open and I let out an involuntary yelp of fear, causing the mermaid still napping in her tank to open one eye and bare her teeth at me. I bolted up from the ground and pressed my face against the crisscrossing lights, holding my breath, waiting to see if Garnet had finally come to save me.

  I heard Kellen speaking to someone as two pairs of footsteps approached my cell, but the voice that responded, though as familiar as my own, didn’t belong to Garnet.

  “Oh no,” I whispered, looking around the cell frantically.

  But for the second time that day, I was too late.

  “Wren!” Glenn appeared on the other side of the red lights, standing shoulder to shoulder with Kellen, his brow furrowed in concern. “Garnet sent me a sparrow telling me that you got arrested. What happ—” He stopped speaking abruptly and pointed toward my cell floor, his mouth widening in an “o” of confusion.

  I stared at him, willing him not to speak. He was my guide… shouldn’t we have some kind of telepathic connection?

  Apparently not.

  Glenn squinted from me to Kellen and back again and
scratched his nose. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable, praying it wouldn’t come.

  “Jumping jellyfish,” he said, his electric-green eyes as wide as saucers as Kellen looked on, “what in the world is my top hat doing here?”

  “Pay attention,” Lady Winthrop snapped, whipping out her wand to stem the flow of water bursting out of the walls. I dropped my training wand and covered my face as the water rushed toward me, but as soon as she bellowed “Finito!” it shrank to a trickle before disappearing completely.

  “Sorry.” I cringed as I saw Garnet and Hunter emerging from beneath their desks, their clothes saturated. As Garnet wrung out her long ponytail and Hunter removed his glasses to wipe off the droplets of water on the lenses, Lady Winthrop shook her finger at me, her eyes sparking with anger.

  “If you can’t handle a basic offensive spell, Miss Winters, then I can assure you that you won’t be passing your level zero exams.” She aimed her wand at the hem of her aquamarine robes, which were dripping water onto the floor, and a blast of heat erupted from its tip.

  I mumbled another apology, my cheeks reddening, and slunk back to my seat. We were supposed to be practicing the electrica spell, which sent small jolts of electricity coursing through your opponent’s body, temporarily disabling them, but when I’d accidentally waved my wand four times instead of three while saying the incantation, it had gone rogue.

  I couldn’t help being distracted, though—it was impossible for me to concentrate when I was sick with worry about Glenn. After he’d innocently revealed himself to be the owner of the hat, Kellen had dragged him off, presumably to the interrogation room, and when I was released a few hours later, I could still hear Kellen’s booming voice as he demanded answers to Hattie’s whereabouts.