by Terri Reid
She smiled at him. “If you have need of my help, you’ve only to ask.”
“Thank you, Hettie,” he replied, his heart warmed at her generous if not absurd offer. “I’ll remember that.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Em stood in the shadows near the northeast corner of Pete’s high-rise and waited, ready to spring to action at a moment’s notice. She didn’t totally understand this bond she had with Sean, but since she’d been in closer proximity to him, she knew instinctively whenever he was in danger. The pit of her stomach would twist, and all of her senses would go on alert. Now, however, her feelings were calm, and she felt no apprehension. Whatever was happening in Pete’s apartment seemed to be under control.
She stayed in the shadows, making sure that if Sean happened to step out on the balcony and glance down, he wouldn’t see her. He didn’t know she had been following him and, she admitted to herself, he wouldn’t be happy if he found out about it. But twice she’d been able to pull him out of a dangerous situation and he seemed grateful. Batman? She shook her head. Do I remind him of a man or a creature of the night? She puzzled over it for a moment more. But he said it in such a complimentary way… Besides, she thought shaking her head decisively. I really don’t care what he thinks of me.
She paused in her thoughts, looked up to the penthouse apartment, and sighed. She had never hidden from the truth; even as a child she had preferred truth over compassion. And now, she had to admit the truth, there was something about Sean O’Reilly that attracted her unlike any man she’d ever met. And perhaps that was the problem. Once she had bonded with Sean as a child, there had been no other men. He was in her dreams, in her thoughts, and now, in her life.
A movement on the balcony brought her springing forward, her sword in hand. Her use of glamour allowed her to move among most humans without being detected, but she didn’t need to use it now because the street in front of the building was entirely deserted. Looking up, she saw the faerie jump through the patio door, onto the balcony, and then dive from the balcony, landing on the rooftop of the much shorter building across the street.
Em dashed forward, sheathing her sword as she ran across the street. She looked around the brownstone and ran to the back alleyway. Finding a fire escape platform attached to the back of the building about ten feet above the ground, she jumped up, caught the metal bar on the side and swung herself up to the first landing. Flattening herself against the side of the building, she waited for only a moment to ensure she hadn’t been seen, and then she dashed up the metal steps to the roof. Quickly looking around, Em could see that the faerie was half a block away, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with little effort.
“Oh no, you are not getting away so easily,” Em said, dashing across the gravel-topped roof and leaping to the next one, following in the faerie’s path.
At the end of the block, the faerie climbed down a fire escape similar to the one Em had used to get to the rooftop, jumped down, and disappeared down a gangway between two apartment buildings. Em followed, stealthily stalking the faerie, more interested in following than apprehending. Em kept herself to the shadows and the ledges of the apartment buildings and, when forced to come out to the open, stayed low behind parked cars.
There was little traffic on the streets of the Lincoln Park neighborhood, a neighborhood made up of high-rises and brownstones with an occasional single-family home built between them. The shops on the main streets were a mixture of eclectic restaurants, exclusive day spas and high-end boutiques catering to the tastes of the residents. The strains of blues drifted out of the door of a corner pub but were quickly muffled by the metallic clanging of the elevated train only a block away.
The faerie turned left onto Oakdale Avenue, a residential street, and a block later dashed across Clark Street, a main, four-lane artery. Em wondered where she was leading her. Most of the fae were drawn to parks or other places where nature was prominent, but instead of heading towards the lake or Lincoln Park, she was going in the opposite direction into the residential area.
Em decided to get closer, just in case they had some kind of hideout in a home or apartment building. Jogging lightly, she was soon only a half-block from the faerie. The faerie reached the underpass of the elevated train, and Em smiled. Surrounded by iron pilings, she was sure the faerie was incredibly uncomfortable. If she was interested in interrogating the creature, this would be the perfect opportunity, when she was weakened by the metal.
Dashing forward, ready to apprehend the faerie, she suddenly realized the faerie had disappeared. Stopping in the middle of the gravel lot under the train tracks, she slowly turned around, studying the area. There was no place she could have gone. A train rushed by overhead, its sound nearly deafening, and Em looked up at it, wondering if the faerie had jumped up and hitched a ride.
She searched the area for another fifteen minutes and finally decided the faerie had given her the slip. With a sigh of disgust, she climbed the steps to the train station to ride back to the church on the other side of town.
As she climbed the steps she didn’t notice the ground below shifting slightly. Two shadowed shapes emerged from below the earth and watched her, their green eyes luminous in the night sky. One whispered to the other, an inhuman chatter that was more like cicadas in the night. The other nodded and laughed softly.
Em paused at the top of the stairs, peered over the rail to the darkness and rubbed her hand over the back of her neck. That’s odd, she thought, seeing nothing but the empty lot below. I could have sworn I heard something.
Chapter Thirty-four
Sean entered the station house at 7:30 am and hurried to the elevator. He had sent a revised version of his report to Adrian the night before, and now he needed to act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Hey, O’Reilly,” Sarah Powers called out as he stepped out of the elevator on the second floor.
“Yeah, Powers, what do you need?” he asked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the donut guy this morning?” she asked.
Sean slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Really, today’s my turn?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she walked away in disgust. “My whole day is ruined,” she muttered. “Thanks a lot.”
Sean sat down at his desk, picked up the phone and punched in a couple numbers. The phone rang at a desk across the room, and Sarah hurried across the room to answer it. “Powers,” she said into the phone.
Grinning, Sean leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the top of his desk. “Is this the new recruit for the station?” he asked.
“No, I can’t believe—” she began.
“This is Detective O’Reilly,” he said. “And did you notice how I just used my title to emphasize that I outrank you?”
Sighing, she nodded. “Yes, I noticed.”
“So, Sarah, I seem to have forgotten a major responsibility,” he explained, biting back laughter. “And it seems that I might have even ruined someone’s day because of my negligence.”
“So, you’re going to make it worse, right?” she replied.
“I’ll pay,” he said. “I just need you to pick out and pick up.”
“O’Reilly,” she growled.
“Think of it this way,” he inserted. “You’ll get the first pick.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll go,” she said ungraciously. “But only because I’ve been dreaming about a Bavarian Cream-filled Long John all morning long.”
“Yeah, get at least two of those,” Sean said. “And Sarah?”
“What?” she muttered.
“Thank you,” he said.
Standing, he walked across the room and handed her a ten and a twenty dollar bill. “Will that be enough?” he asked.
She grinned and shook her head. “Nope, I think I’ll need at least forty more,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Yeah, make it do,” he replied. “And I’ll be looking for—”
“O’Reilly,” Cap
tain Douglas called from his office doorway. “You got a minute?”
“Yeah, sure Captain,” he replied, and then he turned to Sarah. “Thanks again, really.”
She shrugged. “No problem,” she said, lowering her voice. “And good luck with…” she motioned with her head in the Captain’s direction, “whatever that ends up being.”
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. “I might need it.”
He tapped on the captain’s door before entering.
“Come in,” the captain called.
Sean entered, closed the door and, observing protocol, remained standing.
“Have a seat, O’Reilly.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sean said, slipping into a chair on the other side of the captain’s desk.
The captain studied him for a few moments in silence. Sean wondered if he had heard anything about Jamal, and then an idea flashed into his mind. Could his captain be one of those working with Adrian? He’d really hate to discover that. He’d always admired and respected his captain.
“So, what are you working on, O’Reilly?” he asked.
Shrugging, Sean tried to look at ease even though his stomach was turning. “Just some follow-up on routine cases,” he said.
The captain nodded and paused again. “I understand you got pulled into the incident the other night,” he said. “The gang fight in the park. A young man was taken into Cook County, and you interviewed him?”
Sean nodded slowly and pasted a casual smile on his face. “Oh, yeah, that,” he said offhandedly. “Adrian Williams called me in as a favor. He thought I could get the kid to talk about what happened.”
“And did you?” the captain asked. “Get the kid to talk?”
Sean had never lied to his commanding officer. He understood the importance of the chain of command, and he also understood loyalty. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. “He did talk to me.”
The captain sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth, and once again studied Sean. “Would you like to share what he told you?” he asked.
“Actually, sir, no I would rather not share that information,” he replied.
A shadow of a smile appeared and then, just as quickly, disappeared on the captain’s face. “You wouldn’t,” he repeated.
Sean shook his head. “No, sir. With all due respect, I wouldn’t.”
“And what would your father say about your response?” the captain asked.
Taking a deep breath, Sean thought about his response for a moment. “He would expect me to obey my oath to serve and protect the citizens of this community.”
“And you believe that by not telling me what this young man said, it would both serve and protect the citizens of the community?” the captain asked.
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“And what if I demanded that you share that information with me?” the captain asked, pushing his chair back away from his desk and standing.
“I’d tell you that I submitted a report with my findings last night and you’d be able to get that information from there,” Sean said, keeping his eyes on the captain.
“And would the report have a full accounting of the interview?” the captain asked.
Sean paused only for a moment. “To the best of my recollection, sir,” he said. “It was late and Williams called me in the middle of the night.”
The captain walked around his desk and perched on the front of his desk in front of Sean. He pulled a small box out of the pocket of his suit jacket and opened it. “Stand up, O’Reilly,” he said. Sean stood. Reaching into the box, the captain pulled out a small, gold lapel pin, stood up and pinned it on Sean’s lapel. “I don’t know anyone I’d rather pin this on than you,” the captain said.
Sean tried to look down and see what had been pinned to his chest. “Excuse me, sir, but what is it?” Sean asked.
“It’s an old Celtic symbol called St. Brigid’s Cross,” the captain replied softly. “It’s worn by those who have sworn allegiance to an Order by the same name.”
Exhaling softly with a great deal of relief, Sean nodded and met his captain’s eyes. “Do you have one of these, too?” he asked.
The captain opened his jacket, and Sean saw the gold pin on the inside of his lapel. “I have found,” the captain admitted, “that it’s probably wiser to wear it in a less conspicuous place.”
Sean unpinned it and pinned it to the inside of his jacket. “That’s a good idea,” he agreed.
“Why don’t you take a few days off on paid leave to work on that special project I just assigned you?” the captain suggested.
Sean nodded. “Yeah, that would be very helpful,” he agreed, then paused. “What would you like me to do about updates?”
“I believe in matters like these, the less said and written, the better,” the captain replied meaningfully.
“That makes perfect sense to me,” Sean agreed. “Thank you, sir.”
The captain offered Sean his hand. “It’s good working with you, Sean,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” Sean said. “I feel the same way.”
Chapter Thirty-five
The gymnasium on the third floor was Em’s favorite place in the entire church. The tall ceilings, polished wood floor and bright skylights gave her the sensation of space, a feeling she rarely got in the city. A series of old, cotton gym mats were laid end to end on one side of the room for Em to practice self-defense moves and yoga for concentration. Rings, ropes and bars hanging from the ceiling created an above-ground obstacle course for elevated parkour training. And the old gymnastic equipment of parallel bars, balance beams, horizontal bars and a pommel horse substituted for her days of roaming the woods and fields near her birthplace in Ireland.
This morning she had searched through the old supply closets to locate some old fencing gear including face masks, padded jackets and a couple of jousting sabers in fairly good shape. She sniffed the jackets and then held them out at arm’s length. They could certainly use a good airing and perhaps some sachets of lavender to hide their current aroma of old sweat and mold.
She held up the mask and wondered if Sean would even fit into one obviously designed for high school students. He certainly was not built like a teenager, she thought with a smile, remembering the view she received after his shower.
Even when wet, the golden highlights shone in his brown hair as he carelessly had toweled it dry, his toned biceps and pecs flexing easily with the movement. He had stepped away from the bathroom mirror and glanced out of the room. His eyes, a dark hazel green, had been distant, and she’d been sure he was contemplating her disappearance. A smile had tugged on her lips as she had watched him gaze around the hall once again, his white teeth worrying his full, lower lip for a moment. Then with a brisk shake of his head and a sexy scowl, he had tossed the towel he’d been using to dry his hair over the shower rod and turned towards her.
She remembered her quick intake of breath when he had nearly walked into her, and she had been barely able to move out of his way, so caught up in enjoying the view.
He had walked past her towards his bedroom, a towel slung low on his hips, and she’d had to bite back a sigh of pure admiration. He was built like one of the statues she’d seen in Europe, all smooth muscles and hard lines. The light dusting of hair on his chest and legs only enhanced his masculinity. He had moved with effortless ease and grace, a natural athlete, and Em’s only regret was that she had stood behind him when he yanked off the towel, tossed it to the bed and pulled on a pair of briefs. However, she had to admit, the view from the back had been more than pleasing.
Remembering the back view, she grinned and shook her head. No, definitely not a teenager.
The faerie watched her from the doorway. Em was so distracted with her thoughts that he needed very little glamour to hide himself. Studying her, he saw her grin and was a little surprised. So, the little warrior has been wounded by cupid’s arrow, he thought with a smile of his own. Now this is an
interesting development. But which one is it that holds the key to her heart?
He turned his concentration to her thoughts. He couldn’t dig very deep, but those thoughts on the upmost part of her consciousness were easy to access.
Em placed the mask back on the shelf and picked up a saber, holding it in her hand for balance. It would be far better for Sean to learn some basic fencing skills with something this light than swinging the broadsword around. The memory of Sean as a young man swinging the tree limb around, pounding the head of the Heldeofol, came rushing back to her mind, and she shook her head with an ironic smile on her lips. Perhaps he was ready for a broadsword.
The sound of the gym door opening brought her back to the present, and she turned quickly, her hand reaching for her own sword. But when she saw Sean standing next to the door, a hesitant look on his face, her heart melted a little bit more.
“Am I bothering you?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she walked forward to meet him. “No, you are welcome here,” she said.
He looked around the room slowly. “Is this your sanctuary?” he asked, stepping forward to meet her.
She nodded. “It’s where I keep my skills sharp. It’s where I practice.”
Stopping just in front of her, he lifted his hand to her cheek and stroked it lightly. “From where I stand,” he whispered tenderly, “you have no need of practice when it comes to warfare. But what of other skills?”
Em stood, transfixed by his touch. The world seemed to have tilted just a bit below her feet, and she was taken off guard, a feeling she didn’t really care for. The air around her seemed stifling instead of open as it had only a few moments earlier. And Sean’s scent was unusual, like dark woods and musk. She had a hard time concentrating on his words. “I…I don’t understand,” she stammered. “What skills?”
Bending his head, he touched his lips to the underside of her jaw bone, and she felt a tingle of electricity race through her body. “These kinds of skills,” he breathed, continuing his path from her jawbone up the side of her face to catch her earlobe between his teeth. “The skills between a man and a woman.”
