by T. G. Ayer
She nodded as Sean headed for the door, and tipped her head at the folder. “Plant morphology just confirmed your report is ready. You can grab it from the printer.”
I ignored the sound of Sean’s raised voice in the corridor outside as I stalked to the printer in the corner. Ash was explaining the report to me when Sean re-entered the room. “So what’s your next move?”
“I beg your pardon,” I asked with a scowl. I’d hoped we’d gotten rid of the guy. But I should have known better.
Most of my cases were top secret, which pissed Sean off even more because he couldn’t poke his nose around in my business.
“Horner gave me the low down on the Ash Tree case.” Sean sounded very sure of himself. Too sure. “What’s your next move?”
“What does it matter to you?” I asked, sharing a glance with Ash who proceeded to tap away at her keyboard, sending me copies of everything with a written explanation. She understood that I wouldn’t want to discuss anything further about the case in front of Sean.
“Odel, there is no I in ‘team’. Keeping your cards close to your chest doesn’t help you in the long run.”
“I don’t need your help, Agent Martin. If I do, I’ll be sure to let you know. And besides, you don’t have clearance.”
Sean smiled, his face an icy mask. “But Carter just told me about the case. No need to hold anything back.” He gave an encouraging smile.
I shifted and faced the air mage, caring little that he could freeze every single liquid cell in my body with a flick of his little finger. “You need clearance to be involved in this. And I know for certain that neither Carter nor Horner want the details of the case to be common knowledge. When I get informed that you are on the list, then I’ll be happy to share. Until then, I’m sorry.”
Sean grumbled, and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He shoved past me and rounded Ash’s desk. “Show me those reports.”
“I apologize, Agent Martin. Each of those reports require a security code and only those agents working on the case have access.”
“Then access it,” Sean snapped pointing at the keyboard.
She shifted in her seat, swinging around enough to allow her knees to nudge Sean’s legs, making him recoil instinctively. “You are welcome to access the files whenever you wish, Agent Martin. All you need is your security code.”
Sean leaned over and tapped his agent number into the little box but when he pressed enter, the computer complained, “Error. Incorrect Security Code.”
He swore, then straightened. Again, he gave his jacket a firm tug then stalked from the room. “We’ll just see about this. Security clearance my ass.”
Ash grinned as I met her gaze, the sound of Sean’s receding footsteps music to both our ears. “I enjoyed that more than I should admit.”
“He deserved worse. Racist pig.”
Ash tutted, giving me a disapproving glance. “We can’t all help the way we were raised, Kai.”
“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.”
“Not taking his side. Just understanding that one’s upbringing has the tendency to hone not only one’s morals and values, but also one’s prejudices. Racism isn’t an instinctive or inherent trait. It’s a learned behavior.”
I folded my arms. “Still doesn’t give him the right to disrespect you.”
Ash sighed and typed in her own code to reopen the screen. “He just knows what he wants and is not afraid to take it.”
“Even when it’s not deserved?”
“Especially.” She opened her mail and frowned.
I sighed. “You’d think what with all of us being supernatural, he’d be more classist than racist. I certainly know a few people who are that way.” The Walker Council for one.
Flipping through screens, she shrugged. “Just because we have powers doesn’t mean we lose our humanity.”
I conceded with a nod. Ash kept her elemental powers under the radar. Probably a good thing with Sean on her ass, especially since she was a Level 10. Like me.
I listened as she continued, “Racism, sexism, even classicism hasn’t gone anywhere because we are inherently a race that wants to be better.”
I snorted, wishing I could insist she was wrong. “Some people seem to confuse the desire to be better with being better than others. That’s what causes all the shit in this world.”
“Not to mention all the other worlds.”
We shared a laugh before we both sobered as the screen filled with Ash’s report. “I can confirm at least one thing, Kai. The poison is naturally derived, but the origin plant isn’t something available in this World – believe me, I’ve searched hard. We’ve had the Tree scanned twice, but there are no parasitic organisms either on the surface or inside the trunk that could have transferred the toxin.”
Ash sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “We’ve documented numerous species from other Worlds, but as of now, our database doesn’t contain a match.”
“And that same poison can be found in the black substance as well as in the leaves?” I asked, taping a finger on my upper arm.
She nodded. “Different molecular structures, but inherently the same organic substance.” She met my eyes, her own dark with worry. “The tree has been poisoned. The toxins seem to have a strange multiplying power, as if the longer it remains within the tree the stronger it becomes. And whoever did this means business.”
I stilled. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that if we don’t find a way to remove the toxins, the Great Ash will die.”
Chapter 6
I’d just dropped my satchel on the floor, and was depositing my takeout dinner onto the fake wood laminate kitchen table when a hollow knock sounded at the front door.
I hurried into the shopfront and recognized Mel, her hair haloed by the streetlight from across the street. She wiggle-waved her fingers at me and smiled as I unlocked the door.
I poked my head out, made a show of looking behind her as if expecting someone.
And Mel just rolled eyes. “No, Saleem is not with me,” she said dryly.
I raised my eyebrows and waved my hands in defense. “Hey. I didn’t say anything.”
Mel snorted. “You didn’t have to.”
She headed into the back room not waiting for an invitation. While I locked up, I smiled. Mel was the only person I knew who could get away with silk peasant blouses and skintight jeans. My attire consisted mainly of turtlenecks, and I wasn’t sure I had it in me to wear anything so feminine.
Inside the kitchen, Mel was already digging into my takeout bag. A cardboard box sat, lid open, and Mel held a pair of chopsticks. She looked at me, already chewing with gusto.
“What?” She raised her eyebrows in mock innocence. “I just got back from a case and I haven’t eaten in thirty-six hours.”
“Good thing I bought enough for two.” I sighed and grabbed the second set of chopsticks, attacking the food with equal enthusiasm.
She looked around the room. “You expecting company?”
I shrugged. “Lily. Usually. But she seemed a bit down today.”
She put down the chopsticks and swallowed before saying, “How is she doing?”
Ever since helping bring Anjelo home, Mel had taken a serious interest in Lily and her recovery. She felt responsible in a weird way. Which I had to admit I understood.
“I’m not sure. Some days she seems fine, smiling and happy. Other days, she’s someone else entirely. She had a lot on her mind even before losing Anjelo. Now, I’m afraid her load might be too heavy.”
“But she isn’t alone,” said Mel, matter of factly.
“No, she isn’t. But Lily isn’t known for taking advice, or for accepting help. All I can do is to keep her busy, keep her feeling needed and necessary.”
“Well, you know I’m here. You need me to help with Lily? Just yell.”
I sighed and nodded before tearing open a second box. We polished off the Chinese food, talking about Saleem and his moth
er, Logan’s condition, the Supreme Elite and how I felt about working for them. Mel had also been asked to join, and at this point she’d accepted on a case-by-case basis. I suspected the only reason she’d accepted was because Saleem and I were both agents already.
Besides, Mel usually had her own plate full. Her search for her little sister continued, and despite numerous queries on my part Mel continued to be reticent. I understood all too well.
As soon as we were done eating, Mel and I cleared away the trash and sat back down.
“So, what can I do?” she asked, curious now that her belly was full.
“I need you to help me track Tara down.”
Mel raised her eyebrows. “Sure I can.” She spoke slowly. “I’ll need something that belongs to her. You know the process.”
Mel would need an item of Tara’s, preferably something biological to help her track. But Tara had left the place spotlessly clean. When I’d taken over, apart from dust, the place hadn’t even contained one stray hair.
I laughed, feeling a little stupid. “I’m not sure what I can give you. Tara didn’t leave much behind.”
Mel straightened, her face brightening. “I do have an idea but I’m thinking you may not like it.”
“Hit me with it. I can take it.”
I think.
Mel cleared her throat. “There’s a bathroom somewhere here, right?” I nodded, suspecting where she was going with this. “So, point me to the shower. I need the drain.”
I made a face. “Tara’s going to just love this.”
Mel shrugged. “You want to find her?”
“Fine. Let’s just keep this between us.”
“Let’s hope that Tara forgot to clean the drains.”
I got to my feet and led Mel down the hall. The building was a large rectangle, the shop making up just a quarter of the space. A central hall led from the store to the back with the kitchen, the bathroom and the little back room on the left, and two small bedrooms on the right.
The bathroom didn’t exactly sparkle but it was clean. Lily and I had only made use of the toilet, having never slept here overnight. Though Lily may have been tempted, I knew she returned to the shelter every evening because of Chloe.
Though Storm was gone, the shelter remained open, run by the Mind Mage Chloe Murdoch who had helped Storm with the kids. She was part mind-melded, part therapist and was well-loved by the kids. She’d taken over the job with a determination that I’d attributed to a deep-seated fury at Storm’s betrayal. And Lily had stayed, helping Chloe out in addition to tagging along with me. Her role as sidekick was apparently permanent.
Mel strode to the tub, her heels tapping loudly on the ceramic tiles, and shoved aside the white curtain. I smiled at the gigantic claw-footed tub. Clearly Fae needed their soaking time.
As Mel leaned over I dangled a latex glove in front of her face. She reached for it, slipping it on with a slap and a slight shake of her head as if berating herself for not foreseeing the need. Then she was poking her finger into the drain, wiggling it around and around. I was surprised when she came away with four strands of long black hair.
“That’s less than I would have expected,” said Mel, frowning.
“That’s more than what I would have expected,” I replied, more than surprised. “Trust me, Tara is a clean freak. This is unexpected.”
Mel grunted as she got to her feet. “Let’s hope the hair belongs to Tara or her mother.”
“It’s Tara’s,” I said. “Gracie has much shorter hair.”
Mel gave a satisfied nod, then rolled the hair into a tiny ball, holding it in her gloved palm as she headed back to the kitchen. She removed the gloves, being careful to keep the hair within the plastic so as not to touch it until she was prepared.
I knew from Mel that sometimes the link to people’s minds can render a tracker unconscious. Who knew what an unprotected link to a Fae could do? She placed the glove on the kitchen table. We both sat and I prepared to watch Mel do her tracking thing.
She reached out and removed a single strand from the coil with her bare fingers. I watched as she placed the strand into the palm of her hand and closed her eyes. Mel was an astral projector, but she was also one of the most powerful teleporters in existence.
We were lucky to have her on our side.
She closed her eyes and inhaled, deep and slow. In and out, then in again. She held the second breath longer and I watched closely as her eyes shifted beneath her closed lids, the movement reminding me of Logan.
I pushed him from my mind and concentrated.
The room remained silent except for Mel’s slow inhalations. She remained so entirely focused on her tracking that it brought goosebumps to my skin.
At last, what felt like hours later, her eyelids fluttered open. I recognized disappointment.
“What happened? Did it work?” I asked, leaning forward, hoping she’d relieve me of the suspicion that her search had failed.
But Mel shook her head. “No. Her trail feels blocked somehow. The hair is biological and with most species it works even though they are technically dead epithelials, but for Tara I drew a complete blank.” Mel’s forehead creased with frustration.
“Is it because she’s Fae?”
Mel gave a tiny, if unsure, nod. “Most likely it is. Fae are part of nature. It means their existence is one with the earth and all its elements. Fae of the land would be hard to track using earth or plants, and fae of the water would be impossible to track using water.”
I nodded, disappointment coloring my emotions. “So we are up the Veil without a paddle.”
Mel nodded, her lips curling in a smile. “Unless you have something else that belongs to her that we can use to track her.”
“Like what?” I heard the frustration in my voice and gave Mel an apologetic smile.
She just shrugged it off. “She’s Earth Fae right?”
I nodded. “Yes. Metal to be specific. She uses her powers to make weapons.” I stiffened. “Wait. Can Fae be tracked using their specific essence?”
Mel nodded hesitantly. “I don’t have a shit-ton of experience with tracking Fae, Kai. I can only assume that the Fae essence is more or less equivalent to human biological data.”
“So if you can track a human using their blood or tears or skin, then you should be able to track a Fae using the traces that they leave behind of themselves. And I know for a fact that Tara leaves a trace of her essence within her weapons. It’s something that she worried about often. Very few people know about it though.”
“Why did she worry about it? I thought making weapons was her thing?”
“It was. But her Court disapproved of her work here because of her essence remaining within each weapon she made. They were afraid it could be used against her.”
“They are probably right.” Mel didn’t look happy. “If we can track her using her essence, then the Fae Court could be proved correct. But, there aren’t many teleporters around with my skill. So it’s not as if every tracker would be able to find her just because they looked.”
I sighed. “I’m not sure how much she understood of how it worked, but what I do know is she did have a kind of mental link to every weapon she created. I once gave her a tiny sliver of metal and she read it well enough to know that she was the one who’d created the weapon.”
“Kai, that could work both ways. It could very well be that as a Metal Fae, Tara was just able to track the life of the metal by tapping into her Fae Ethereal power.”
I nodded, a thrill of excitement rippling through me. “I have a couple of knives that Tara made.” I leaned over and rummaged inside my satchel, retrieving a wide-bladed, curved knife. I handed it over to Mel, handle out. Safety first.
“Good. This should work.” Mel took the knife and turned it over, studying the finely-honed edge. “Impeccable workmanship. So smooth.”
I grinned proudly. Mel knew, like me, that Tara used her fingers. Her body emitted a power which she used to melt metal with
a touch of her fingers.
“Incredible,” said Mel, her voice soft as she studied the weapon. Then she turned it over, now all business as she prepared to track Tara.
I settled back to wait, but within seconds of closing her eyes, Mel stiffened, her spine going rigid. She took a ragged, shallow breath. “I see her.” She paused for a few seconds. “She’s alive and well, although she appears to be stressed.”
“Where?”
“A house. A brownstone.”
“Can you see a street name? A house number?” I was afraid that Mel would shut me up, but I couldn’t help throwing my questions at her.
She seemed unaffected. “Outside the window…the house across the street is 1270. I can’t see a street name.”
“Anything else significant?”
“There’s a magnolia tree right outside the window. Nothing in the room that could tell me where she is. And she’s alone.”
So Mel couldn’t overhear anything in a conversation.
“It’s ok. I’ll project and have a look outside, get us a street name. Be back in a jiffy.”
Mel went still and silent, and I scooted forward in my seat, watching her intently.
I knew already that bad things sometimes happened to jumpers. Samuel, Mel’s friend and mentor was a perfect example. All he did these days was sit and stare off into space. A man, once the most powerful teleporter in the world, now reduced to a catatonic state, caught in an unknown place while he’d projected to help someone. Until now, Mel had been unable to help him get home.
Said a lot for my chances of being any help if she got herself in trouble.
But my concern was unwarranted. Seconds later, Mel took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. “You going to fly out to Boston or do you need a ride?”
“Boston?” I laughed. “A ride would be lovely, thanks.”
Chapter 7
My stomach trembled as we materialized on a Boston street, shielded by the shadows that accompanied Mel when she burst forth from the Veil. I was grateful for them. Appearing suddenly on a residential street would draw suspicious witnesses, or the unwanted attention of the authorities.
