Tithes (Ava Delaney

by Claire Farrell

“Alex has been doing wonderful work,” he said. “May he sit in for this visit?”

  That surprised me. “Sure. There was a shooting the other day, and the culprit managed to run after her bail was paid. Which wasn’t supposed to happen at all, by the way. Is there any way you can find out who paid the bail? Or by some miracle, who the shooter actually is?”

  “I’ll have a look into it. Do you have the details for me?”

  “No, but if you call Shay, he should be able to give you whatever you need.” I glanced at Alex. “You need to shut your mouth about this next bit, okay? No pillow talk.”

  Alex looked mightily offended. “Crystal and I don’t—”

  “Don’t want to hear it,” I said. “Not even a little bit.” I glanced at Peter. “And you can stop grinning, too.” I sighed. “Here’s the thing. A baby was left on my doorstep recently. The government took her, but the problem is that she had a slave mark tattooed onto the back of her neck. We’ve no clues, but we’ve been talking about the possibility that she could be the result of some ancient deal or an ancient creature trying to step into Fionnuala’s shoes. I know there are a ton of books lying around, but I was wondering if any of them might have references to slaves.”

  “Anything in particular?” Breslin asked as though I had just made an ordinary request.

  “Maybe if one type of species is more inclined to own slaves, or run them, if there were old slave markets that were public that might have reopened—anything at all.”

  “Val and I can help if there are too many books,” Peter said. “We don’t mind getting into this.”

  “Actually, Alex has been slowly inputting information from the books into a computer program,” Breslin said. “He’s become quite familiar with many of the books.”

  “I will totally look into it,” Alex said.

  “Are you making a database?” I asked.

  “Trying,” he said. “In case something happens to the books. I’m scanning them all, taking what information I can, creating case studies. It’ll take decades to finish, but paper’s unreliable.”

  “That’s cool,” I said. “Maybe we’ll have to keep you even when the maternity leave is over.”

  He beamed. “I’ll start sorting through the books again,” he said before hurrying out of the room.

  “Alex might be better off going back to school,” Breslin said. “He could do well in my field. As a researcher, he’s been superb. He has a knack. And that’s basically my primary role.”

  “Wait. You want him to be a solicitor?” Peter asked.

  “I won’t be around to intimidate Senates forever, you know.” Breslin’s brown eyes twinkled. “Is that all you needed?”

  “For now. Baba Yaga was so old that she must have known a lot about things like this.” I frowned. “It’s a pity we can’t ask her.”

  “She kept excellent records,” the old man said. “Perhaps you should think about starting, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Breslin glanced at Peter warningly. He couldn’t talk freely. “Merely that you may find value from writing down your experiences.”

  I was pretty sure he meant writing about my lost souls. “So Mrs. Yaga did that? Can I see it?”

  “There’s an entire safe full of her diaries,” he said with a smile. “Perhaps it’s time you saw them. They might be helpful. In truth, I had forgotten about them all until Alex began rooting around in storage. There’s so much more than I ever remember.”

  “Send some over to me when you get the chance,” I said. “And thanks for helping with this.”

  “That’s my job,” he said with a smile. “Good luck finding your criminals.”

  * * *

  On the way to the garage, Peter glanced at me. “Don’t you find Breslin a little creepy?”

  “Creepy?” I shrugged. “Not particularly. Why?”

  “Even Alex has gotten weird since he started working there. I always feel like he’s sitting on a secret.”

  “He’s sitting on lots of them. Mrs. Yaga was really old.”

  “I wonder if she’s owed any favours,” he said thoughtfully. “There has to be some kind of tally somewhere.”

  “Wouldn’t they end with her death?”

  “Depends on the favour. And somebody that old must have dealt with everyone. Maybe even a slaver or two.”

  I shot him a glare.

  “What?” he said. “Different times.”

  I thought about that on the way. Phoenix had lived in different times.

  We reached the garage. Dave appeared disappointed to see that Peter’s car was running properly. While Peter distracted him, I found Noah half-heartedly working on a car.

  “You don’t need to eavesdrop,” I said. “I’ll tell you what they’re talking about.”

  His smile was more of a grimace.

  “I need your help,” I whispered.

  That immediately changed his expression to something hopeful. “Anything.”

  “Seen anything weird at the children’s home? Heard a baby crying, perhaps?”

  “A baby? Nah. No new kids at the home. There’s been a lot of people hanging around the groundskeeper’s house, though.”

  “Witches?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. The way is cordoned off. Alanii said there’s some kind of construction going on, that it’s too dangerous to go that way for a while.”

  “Maybe that’s just what she’s been told.”

  “Ari’s desperate to find out.”

  “Maybe she should be careful.” I looked over my shoulder then lowered my voice. “Phoenix and a witch took the baby I was telling you about to the home. It’s a secret, and the witches are supposed to protect her, but I don’t trust them.”

  “I can watch out for trouble,” he said. “But the place is safe.”

  “Good. But I’m supposed to take care of her, so I can’t help worrying.”

  “I get it.” He wiped his hands on a dirty cloth. “These witches are a coven then?”

  I frowned at his interest. “Yeah, so?”

  “Think they’d take on Ari?”

  “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

  He stepped away from the car and sat on a crate. “She needs something to do. Somebody to help her control her magic.”

  “She can’t control it?”

  He frowned. “It’s not that. I mean, it’s not like she’s accidentally blowing things up or anything.”

  “Then what is it?” I asked softly.

  “It’s more like, she doesn’t seem to know how much power is going to come out. She’ll do a spell, and it’ll be small. Next time, it’ll go farther. She blacks out the corridors if she wants to meet up at night. Usually works perfectly, but sometimes, she blacks out the whole building and then some. And she’s so surprised by it—I can tell—but then she acts like it’s all a funny joke. Maybe a coven would help her… perfect what she does.”

  “You should talk to Phoenix about this. I’m not friendly with any witches. But yeah, I agree she should have some help.”

  He hesitated. “Any word on that halfway house you were talking about?”

  I shook my head, and his face fell. “I promise you I’m working on it.”

  “If I could just prove myself…” His insta-enthusiasm faded. “Doubt they’d even care anyway.”

  I squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll happen.” It had better.

  * * *

  I went to Finn’s bar alone that evening, expecting to blend in with a crowd. A couple of customers were scattered around the room, and even the band was playing half-heartedly. I noticed Finn behind the bar and waved. He had a drink in front of me before I even took my seat.

  “Quiet night?”

  He grimaced. “Lots of quiet nights around here lately.”

  “Trust me when I say you’re not the only one to be having that experience.”

  “So is this a social or business visit?”

  “I’m on a quest for information.” I eyed th
e drink suspiciously. “I was going to ask you—”

  A petite woman clambered onto the counter and sat cross-legged to study me. “Is this her?”

  I stared back. She looked young, and her pixie cut was the same shade as Finn’s red. Watercolour tattoos crawled from her wrist to her inner elbow, where they disappeared under a black crop top. Black kohl outlined blue eyes that refused to look away from my face.

  “Yep.” Finn sighed. “Ava, meet Ember. She’s… family, apparently.”

  She grinned, revealing teeth a little too sharp to be human. “Us half-fae relations aren’t so shameful anymore. Not since the prince took over.” She leaned forward to sniff me. “She smells interesting, but I thought she’d be… flashier.”

  I leaned to the side to look around her. “Finn. Seriously.”

  “I’ve told her a million times not to sniff people. She has no manners. Little feral thing,” he said affectionately. “So what can I do for you, Red?”

  I tried to ignore the unsettling half-fae staring at me. “I was wondering if you’ve heard any rumours about the fae, enemies of Phoenix, anyone ready to go up against him to get back to the old ways.”

  Ember gasped then thumped Finn. “I thought you were joking!”

  He rubbed his chest. “I’m well known to be on Phoenix’s team. People aren’t exactly speaking at all around here.”

  “From before then,” I said. “Is there anyone who would have been likely to stand in Fionnuala’s shoes when she fell?”

  He frowned. “I’m sure there were a few, but…”

  I stopped listening because I scented something familiar. Turning, I spotted Carl walking across the room to sit next to a succubus. “Oh, hell, no.” I forgot about the fae and followed Carl, my glare firmly fixed on the succubus.

  “Didn’t I warn you bitches before?” I demanded.

  “Jesus,” Carl muttered. “Give it a rest, Ava.”

  “What is this?” I asked. “Has she—”

  “She hasn’t done anything but listen to me.” He scowled. “Maybe you should get some tips sometime. You don’t own me. You can’t run off anyone who comes near me.”

  I wilted. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just… before. A succubus almost killed you.”

  “We were all warned,” the succubus said snippily. “Not that most of us needed the warning. We’re not animals, you know.”

  Finn called my name. “I’ll be back,” I said. “I just have to—”

  “Go,” Carl said. “It’s obviously important.”

  I hesitated before heading back to Finn and Ember.

  “It’s rude to walk off in the middle of a conversation,” Finn said, but there was no malice in his tone.

  “Sorry,” I said, attempting to quickly gather my thoughts. “Can you think of anyone specifically who might be interested in a reappearance of the slave trade?”

  Finn and Ember exchanged a look. “Plenty of them,” he said. “What’s this about? Slaves or Phoenix?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I play on Phoenix’s team.” Finn folded his arms. “So if you know something…”

  “The problem is I know very little. Phoenix won’t accept slavery as an option,” I said. “So if somebody did trade in slaves, they’d be directly opposed to Phoenix, right?”

  “He’s in a strong position,” Finn said. “Yeah, there’s always talk, but for the moment, most of us are pretty satisfied with our lot. Not enough time has passed since Fionnuala for any of us to get ratty about the changes.”

  “It’s been a while,” I reminded him.

  He pointed at his chest. “Fae. Old.”

  “Still,” Ember said thoughtfully. “Your fae customer base went down when I started working here.”

  He waved a hand. “My entire customer base went down when you started working here, Ember.”

  “That’s another thing,” I said. “Is bad luck a thing?”

  “It can be,” he said. “Or the appearance of it can be a cover for something else. A curse of some kind. But business… who would want to put me out of business?”

  Ember reached out and slapped Finn’s shoulder. “An enemy of Phoenix, duh.”

  “Or an enemy of mine,” I said. “Nobody I know has a booming business lately.”

  “Fuck slaves,” Finn said. “If anyone is targeting my business, I want to know about it. Gabe didn’t give me this place just so I could run it into the ground.” He held my gaze. “I’ll find out anything I can. If there are any rumblings amongst the fae, you’ll be the first to know. You’ll deal with it, right?”

  I nodded my agreement then looked over my shoulder. Carl and the succubus were gone.

  9

  I spent most of the following morning on the phone. So many things were happening, so many hints and clues were right out of our reach, and nobody could tell me anything for sure. There was nothing like a bout of helplessness to keep my rising self-esteem in check.

  Moses had an update. The loan sharks hadn’t returned yet, but he had been asking around about the protection racket.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Nobody knows anything. Nobody’s heard anything. Nobody’s fighting over territory. Nobody’s sold guns to any new players.”

  “So they’re not new.”

  “Then why haven’t I heard anything about them?” He sighed heavily over the phone. “And I got one big dog’s back up about it. He’s off on the hunt himself now, trying to find whoever’s getting in his way. Not that he noticed until I gave him a heads-up about it.”

  “Wait.” I switched the phone to my other ear. “He runs the same kind of thing?”

  “Nah, but if anyone needs protection, it’d be from his gang, yeah? So whoever’s running this is automatically his opposition. That’s the way he thinks. He’s going after whoever it is, and we’ll see if he finds them.”

  I really hoped we hadn’t just kicked off even more trouble. “So no news at all from the loan sharks? Shay’s taking a look into it, too.”

  “Nah, nothing much. The place is rattling, though. Even me ma. I’m definitely leaning toward the non-human species for this. The brethni haven’t picked up anything, but there has to be magic involved. Or something.”

  “I agree. Someone with power must be behind this, so be careful. We’ve no idea what we’re dealing with. Could just be an ancient player needing to get back in business.”

  “They might find there’s no room for them.” I heard him light a cigarette in the background. “How’s your man who got shot?”

  “He’s fine, but the shooter is gone. Some mix-up got her out on bail. I don’t know. Turns out they never even had her actual name.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Jaysus, I wish I’d had a mix-up like that once or twice.”

  “Only once or twice?” I said wryly.

  “Sometimes you want to get inside.” He followed that with a husky laugh. “And on that note, I’ll let you go. Keep your phone on. I’ll be calling you first if anything happens.”

  After the phone call, I sat at my computer and scrolled through newspaper articles. A week never went by without some crappy clickbait article designed to whip people up into a frenzy. The reporter’s name was the same every time: Áine O’Neill. A terrible black-and-white photo of a meek-looking young woman appeared next to her name.

  I spent the next two hours reading Áine O’Neill’s old articles. She had begun her career at that particular newspaper with non-biased, carefully balanced articles that were engaging and fact-checked—the latter alone made her stand out from the crowd. And then one week—boom! Somebody else seemed to be doing her writing. Anti-supernatural rhetoric, angry accusations of corruption, and embellished crime rates—even the bylines were ridiculously over the top. If Áine O’Neill had a point to make, it wasn’t designed to help anyone sleep at night.

  I called the newspaper’s offices and asked to speak to Áine. The receptionist put me through to her line, but there was no answer. After a c
ouple more tries that afternoon, I finally left a message, asking her to call me. It was probably nothing. Maybe a particular incident had caused her to change her focus, or perhaps her boss was leaning on her to be more sensationalist. But I saw no harm in following it up.

  Jessica called me while I was eating a sad little dinner for one. As my first lost soul, she had helped me close a door on an unpleasant chapter of my life. The teenager had been a mess in a lot of ways, but freeing her of a shadow that had haunted both of us since birth had been good for her. After our time together, she moved with her father to settle in England, but we’d kept in touch. We were the only tainted nephal either of us knew.

  “How are you and your dad?” I asked. “And Parker, of course.”

  “Everyone’s doing great. I spoke to Gerard. He definitely wants to talk to you. He just needed the right time. Your face is well-known, after all.”

  “When can we meet?”

  “How does this evening sound?” she asked. “I’ll text you directions, but he wants to meet at a restaurant after dark. He won’t be able to stay long.”

  “Busy man?”

  “More like a paranoid one. But you know how it is.”

  I did. It was easy to feel paranoid when everyone really was out to get you.

  “I don’t have anything else on,” I said. “I’ll be there. Thanks for setting this up, Jess.”

  “After everything you’ve done for me, it was the least I could do. You should come over to see me this summer.”

  “How is it over there? Anything strange?”

  She laughed. “There’s always something strange.”

  “But not strange like slave markets or human games, right?”

  “Not that we’ve heard.” She paused. “We can dig deeper.”

  “Stay out of trouble, but if you hear anything, let me know.”

  We caught up on personal gossip for a bit before hanging up. I was excited to meet with Gerard. As far as I could tell, he was the person people went to when they wanted to make new lives. He had to have come across ex-slaves with stories to tell.

  After dark, I headed into the city centre to meet with Gerard. Following Jess’s instructions, I ended up on a tiny side-street full of quaint cafes and restaurants that could fit no more than ten people at a time. I found the right restaurant—a dimly lit Italian place that smelled like heaven.