The Hallowed Hunt

by Yasmine Galenorn

  Or maybe, I thought, I could do it myself. Marilee was focused on getting me ready for the Cruharach. She might not be willing to take me on the journey I was thinking of.

  “I’m not sure you should do this before the Cruharach.” Herne paused, then added, “It could be dangerous, you know.”

  “Life’s dangerous.” I jumped as a bolt of lightning split the sky and thunder rumbled shortly after. Another flash, and the clouds burst, sending a hail of tiny ice pebbles down to skitter across the road. Herne slowed down—hail like this made the pavement all too slick.

  “We’re almost there,” Herne said, nodding toward an apartment building ahead of us. “He and his family live in the Mulden Apartment Towers. I wonder what they’ll do now. They’re going to be facing a nasty backlash from all of the victims’ families.”

  “What court was he from?”

  “They’re Dark Fae.”

  “Then, perhaps Saílle can help his family relocate. Get them out of the area so they aren’t targeted by vigilantes. Two little kids. Geez, what the hell is their mother going to tell them about their father when they grow up?” I was grateful to see a parking space only a few steps away from the front door of the building.

  “I don’t know,” Herne said softly. “Maybe I can get Mother to suggest it—Saílle might take the advice better from a goddess.” He shook his head. “I’m not ready for this, but let’s go.”

  As we stepped into the maelstrom of the storm, I gazed up at the lightning playing across the sky. It matched my mood, and I could feel my blood quicken and pulse in response to it.

  Alina—Menhir Ryma’s wife—was petite. As she opened the door, she gave us a look like she had fallen down a deep hole and was unable to climb out. She let us in without a word. Two children were eating a snack at a low table, while a puppy laid his head on his paws, staring at them, hoping to win a bite of the sandwiches that smelled so good.

  “Sit down, please.” Alina was quiet, but the resilience in her stance surprised me. Though her face was ravaged with sorrow, she was managing to hold herself together. “I’ll just take the children into the bedroom, and then be right back. There’s tea in the kitchen, if you’d like some.”

  She gathered the children and their snacks, and led them through one of the doors that led out of the living room. The puppy followed. I watched as the door closed behind her.

  “Either she’s in shock, or she’s holding herself together because of the kids,” I whispered.

  “Or she’s got a stronger constitution than we expected,” Herne whispered back.

  Alina reappeared, settling herself in a rocking chair that was kitty-corner to my chair. “Whatever I can help you with, I will.” She shook her head. “I just…”

  “Thank you,” I said. “We’ll try to be out of your hair as soon as we can.”

  “Alina, did you notice anything odd about your husband lately?” Herne asked.

  “Yes, actually. Once he joined the Tuathan Brotherhood, he changed. He grew sullen and withdrawn. I thought it was strange for him to act like that, given the Brotherhood was supposed to be such a philanthropic organization.” She was holding her purse, and now she rummaged through it, bringing out a note. “He left this for me. I assume he wrote it yesterday before he… I thought he was going to work.”

  She handed the note to Herne. He opened it, and I looked over his shoulder.

  Alina, do what you need to for the children. Never let them forget me, or the great deed I have done today to free them from the tyranny of mediocrity. I want you to contact the name on this note and he’ll help you with everything you need. Be proud of me. I fought for our freedom, and to preserve our heritage. —Menhir

  Contact Sebastian at 206-555-8883

  I glanced up at her. “Did you show the police this?”

  She shook her head. “I just found it.”

  “Have you called the number yet?” Herne asked.

  Again Alina shook her head. She seemed to be going through the motions, but I couldn’t feel any spark coming from her.

  “No. I don’t know who it is, and if he belongs to this Tuathan Brotherhood, he can fucking die. My husband… How can Menhir have truly thought he was doing something wonderful? He murdered two dozen people in cold blood.” She paused, glancing at me. I was all too aware of the bruises covering my body. “Were you…”

  I nodded. “Yes, I was caught in the blast. I was outside at the time, so I managed to escape with a back full of broken glass and some bruises.” I spoke softly, not wanting to add to the guilt that I could see churning in her eyes.

  She let out a soft cry. “So many dead. So many hurt. And my husband was responsible.”

  “Do you know when he joined the Tuathan Brotherhood?” Herne asked.

  She heaved a sigh, then nodded. “About two months ago, he went on a retreat that he saw advertised. It was for men who wanted to make a difference in their community. He convinced me that it was a personal journey he needed to make. He liked his job but it didn’t offer a lot of variety or personal enrichment. And Menhir wanted to help. He saw so much pain day after day, and he wanted to do something to give back.”

  “What did he do, if I may ask?” I caught her gaze, holding it gently.

  “He managed a local grocery store—a specialty market. He saw people come through daily who needed special foods but couldn’t afford them. Sometimes his paycheck was barely enough for us to pay our rent, because he gave out free food at work and absorbed the cost through his own account. I tried to convince him that his children should come first, but he would just say that we were among the lucky ones and to quit complaining.”

  Herne rubbed his chin. “Do you know how he felt about humans and shifters?”

  That struck a chord. Alina ducked her head. “Well, the majority of the time we’ve been together he certainly didn’t count them as a problem. We have several good friends from both heritages, but they haven’t come over lately because he broke contact with them. I haven’t been able to invite them over for the past couple months. He grew increasingly obnoxious about anyone other than of Fae blood. I kept asking him where the hell he copped the attitude from, but he wouldn’t answer. He just told me to mind my place and raise the kids to be true Fae.”

  “True Fae?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I have no clue what he meant by that, and I didn’t ask because anytime I asked for clarification, all I got was a dressing down or an argument.”

  Herne glanced over at the desk in the corner. “Is that his computer?”

  “Well, it’s the family computer, yes.”

  “Did your husband have an email account?”

  Alina nodded. “Yes, he did. Why? Do you need to see it? I found his password one day, but I never used it.” She paused. “I thought he might be having an affair, but then decided to trust him.” She motioned for us to follow her and led us over to the desk, where she sat down and brought up their email program. Within a few seconds, she had tapped in the password and then sat back. “There, that should take you into his email.”

  Herne motioned to me. “Can you skim through?”

  I took Alina’s place, and while she was giving Herne information on Menhir’s friends, I started poking around in his email. Finally, I found something in the deleted mail program. Like most people, he didn’t empty it often enough.

  “Herne, I found something.” I glanced through the letter. It was a welcome letter to the Tuathan Brotherhood, and it requested Menhir’s presence at the next weeklong gathering to meet the others. I glanced at the date it had been sent, and it tallied up with the week that Jasper had gone in for training. The letter promised that they would text him the address, after he signed the enclosed NDA.

  “Did he go on the retreat?” I asked.

  Alina nodded. “He convinced me that it was something he really wanted, so I agreed. He wouldn’t tell me where it was, just said he’d be available via his phone. I noticed something odd, though. I checked the Fr
iend Finder app—we have it enabled on our phones—while he was gone and it wouldn’t go through. He had to have disabled it.”

  “Or someone disabled it for him,” I muttered. “When he returned, did you notice a change in his behavior?”

  “Definitely. Before he left, he was a good-hearted, if misguided, man. He came back snippy and terse. We started arguing a lot. But I was busy with the children and he began staying later and later at work. I thought maybe he was having an affair at that point, but frankly, I was too pissed to check on him. So I ignored it. Then yesterday, he left early, before either I or the children woke up. And he left that note, apparently.” Her face crumbled and she stared at the ground.

  “It’s not your fault, you know,” Herne said.

  She glanced up at him. “I know that. But nobody will believe me. Do you know what my children’s lives are going to be like? They’ll always be the children of that fanatical bomber.”

  Her despair permeated the room. I was seriously worried for her. “Do you have family who can take you in for a while?”

  “His family will expel his memory, and me and the children along with it. My family won’t want to be associated with the act. I don’t know what to do.” She reached out, her hand landing on Herne’s arm. “Can you help us?”

  Herne stared at her for a moment, then glanced at me. “Stay here. I need to make a phone call.” To Alina, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

  He ducked out the front door, and I could hear him arguing with someone outside. Reporters, no doubt. I turned to Alina.

  “Is there anything I can do for you? Make some tea or something?”

  She shook her head, tears streaking down her cheeks. It was as if the realization of how much trouble she was in had finally hit.

  “I don’t know. Taking care of the children is hard enough. I don’t know what to do now.”

  I took her hand, moving over to sit beside her, and we sat there in silence until Herne returned, a faint smile on his face.

  “My mother will escort you to Annwn, if you would like to move there. She can help you find a new home over there, and a position, where you and your children won’t be known. If you’re interested, then pack your bags and she’ll send an escort tonight.”

  Alina looked frightened. Uprooting her entire life wouldn’t be easy, but she didn’t have much choice. She was right—people would always judge her by her husband’s actions, and her children would grow up under a shadow. They were still young enough that they could make a change easily enough. But she would have to give up everything that was normal to her.

  She thought for a moment, then let go of my hand and straightened her shoulders, wiping away the tears. “I have to be strong for my children. Yes, thank you. Who will be coming?”

  “Her name is Ylanda, and she’ll be here at eight o’clock tonight. Take only what you need. You won’t need money, or furniture. My mother will get you started. Take family mementos, clothes, jewelry, your children’s favorite toys.” Herne stood. “I’ll let Morgana know you’ve agreed. Be ready.”

  As we left, Alina whispered a “Thank you” that I barely heard as the door shut behind us.

  “She’s got a hard road ahead,” I said as we headed back to the car. A handful of reporters swarmed us, but with one look from Herne, they backed off. Apparently, god-glamour worked wonders.

  “It would be harder here,” Herne said. “Can you imagine growing up under those conditions? I know people do, but she seemed so lost that I thought I’d intervene. I was afraid she might do something reckless, and the children deserve better than that.”

  “I had the same thought. Thank you for caring,” I said, leaning my head against his arm for a moment. As we drove back to the office, it occurred to me that sometimes the gods were more humane than the rest of humanity. Not always…but sometimes.

  When we reached the office, Angel had some news for us.

  “The tox screen came back on Jasper. He was carrying a buttload of Ropynalahol in his system. Enough to drug an elephant. Apparently, it had been building up for some time, so he must have been taking it every day. If he had taken one dose to bring his levels to what they were, it would have killed him.” She handed Herne the printout.

  He glanced over it. “Ropy, all right.”

  Ropynalahol was a behavioral drug that was highly illegal to possess other than for medical uses, and it was used to alter behavior and mood. In high-enough doses, it could effectively make someone prone to follow suggested actions, and it also tended to stoke aggressiveness.

  “Isn’t that commonly known as ‘brain-drain’ on the streets?” Viktor asked, joining us at Angel’s desk.

  “Yep. Brain-drain, the ‘zombie-pill,’ and several other nicknames.” I had learned all about it by watching Criminal Case Files on TV. “It’s hard to get hold of, has an especially powerful hold on the Fae, and can totally reprogram your personality. If someone were medicated with the drug, and was then subjected to reprogramming, they could effectively become a different person. Or at least, a different personality.”

  “How long do the effects hold?” Herne asked, scanning the page.

  “Until the drug is withdrawn. Which means, if Jasper was taking it every day, it had to have either been voluntarily, or he was being doped. Was there any sign of medications at his apartment?” I asked.

  “Already on it,” Yutani said. He had wandered up as we had been talking. He disappeared again into his office.

  “So any news we should know about?” Herne asked as we waited, turning pointedly to Talia.

  She blinked, then shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to run off and try to kill Lazerous to get my powers back. At least not right now. I called my sister and told her she has to back off for now. That I can’t even think about this until our cases have died down a little. She was impatient and irritable and gave me Lazerous’s address, then took off. She said when I came to my senses, to contact her again and she’d come help.”

  “Impatient much?” I asked.

  “That’s the harpy’s nature. I’ve learned to curb it, but she hasn’t and so far, she hasn’t found a good reason to be patient. As I said, I have to think long and hard before I even consider attempting what she suggested. There’s a lot to lose, as well as a lot to gain.”

  A moment later Yutani returned. “I got in touch with Jasper’s doctor. He was never prescribed Ropynalahol. His fiancée has no memory of him taking any sort of prescription medication. But a bottle of the pills was found among his personal possessions, according to the police. I found the picture—everything is documented with pictures now, it seems.” He turned his tablet around so we could see.

  “Can you enlarge the photo to see who prescribed them? It should be on the bottle,” Angel said, leaning in to look closer.

  Yutani fiddled with it for a moment, then broke into a wide smile. “Got it. Take a look.”

  We leaned in again. There on the bottle was the name “Dr. Nalcops” and part of a phone number. The bottle was turned so that we couldn’t see it all, so we had the area code and the first four digits, which were 555-8.

  “Angel—” I started to say, but she held up one hand.

  “On it.” She was searching through one of the many databases that the Wild Hunt had accumulated over the years. “Dr. Nalcops. 360-555-8553. He’s over on the peninsula.”

  “Bainbridge Island?” I asked.

  “No, somewhere near Bremerton. In Port Gamble.”

  “Crap,” Yutani said. “I hate that place. It’s haunted as hell.”

  I stared at him. “Haunted?”

  “The entire peninsula is. It’s creepy as hell over there.” He shrugged. “You think it will do any good to call this dude?”

  Herne thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I think we’ll overplay our hand if we do. We don’t want them to know we’re onto this. Not yet, not until we know more of what we’re dealing with. Meanwhile, I’ll call Alina and ask her if she can check o
n Menhir’s medications. If he had those in his possession too, we can assume we’re dealing with unasked-for conversions.” He vanished inside his office.

  I turned to Yutani. “Did you ever run the files on little girls who were taken from their parents or who went missing?”

  He nodded. “Let’s take this in the break room so that I don’t have to drag all my toys out here to the reception desk.” He headed back to his office.

  Angel glanced at me. “Should I lock the elevator and join you?”

  “Sure. We aren’t expecting anybody else tonight. If Herne wants it unlocked, he’ll tell you.” I picked up my purse and followed Yutani.

  Herne appeared a couple moments later. “Bingo and confirmation. Alina found a bottle of Ropynalahol in Menhir’s dresser. It was a third full, and the label stated that it contained ninety tablets, and to take one a day.”

  “Let me guess. Dr. Nalcops?” I was jotting down everything he said.

  “On point. And here’s the phone number.” He texted it to me, and I added it to my notes.

  “We found out Nalcops practices on the peninsula in Port Gamble,” I said.

  “Lovely. Just what we need.” Herne’s smile vanished. “I don’t go over there if I can help it. The land is beautiful, but it’s haunted by dark secrets and even darker creatures. A number of the Ante-Fae live over there, too.”

  “Maybe Raven can help us there, if we need.” I caught his gaze, hoping that he wouldn’t squelch the idea. But he seemed all for it.

  “That’s a good idea,” he said. “We need as much information as we can get.”

  Yutani came in at that point. “Okay, I have a little girl who went missing that fit the profile. Rhiannon Shields. But this was ten years ago. Rhiannon showed up dead a week later. She died from a crackalaine overdose. Her mother, Natasha Shields, was accused but the prosecutor couldn’t prove that she did anything to harm the little girl other than neglect. She was imprisoned for neglect and spent the next ten years locked away, where she went into rehab and joined the AlkaNon program behind bars. She was released six months ago, and returned to her mother’s house in early July.”