Kat Among The Pigeons

by Lazette Gifford

  And if he could, so could others. I didn't see anyone at all on the streets -- no one real, at least. As I drew closer to the buildings, the veil of snow brushed over us, obscuring the wider view. I caught only glimpses of the desert city as I neared. I drove slowly as I entered the illusion, feeling out the magic and trying to find a weakness. I wanted to find a way to destroy the phantom city before. . . .

  Before what? A ghost city took over Estes Park? We were in the real world and this came from the fae side. Nothing could --

  But this illusion shouldn't have been here at all. The Edge had moved, the city had begun to slip over, and the ghost riders seemed more solid. I wondered if they intended to take over humans, the way they had taken over Not-David.

  The thought angered me. I purposely swerved into one and hit with a thump, startling my companion awake.

  "We're safe," I said, trying to keep my voice soft and bury the worry. "Rest."

  I added a touch of magic to the word, and he turned to me, his eyes blinking. "Strawberries and sugar," he said. "I'm glad I like strawberries."

  He closed his eyes. I felt a little better knowing I had gotten him free at least, and he seemed better already, even if a bit incoherent. I'd learn what I could from him. I knew the most important part, though: Aletta had been part of the work. She would pay for this one. We have laws and she had gone far over the line.

  Even on the streets of town, I saw no one around except an occasional ghost horse and rider. I thought there might be something in the air -- besides the fae city -- keeping everyone in their homes. It would be easy to do such magic with so much available.

  Everything appeared nearly normal back at Fairy Tale Lane. I even saw a couple cats prowling around, and as soon as they spotted me they headed toward the house.

  My house stood untouched by the ghost city. No shadow of something else overlaid the exterior, and the lights inside glowed bright and welcoming. Cato came from the side of the house and bounded through the snow as soon as I got out.

  "You all right?"

  "Yeah, barely." I went around to the other side and started to pull Not-David out.

  "So you left with Aletta and return with this one? What a glutton for punishment."

  "Something had taken him over, Cato," I said, grunting as I kicked the car door closed and used magic to get him to the house. "He wasn't himself."

  "And who would himself be?" Cato asked.

  "I don't know yet, but I'll find out. For now, though, he stays with me. Aletta wanted him, so we want him away from her."

  "Ah." Cato got to the door and went inside first -- cats always manage that -- and stopped to wait for me. "Does this means Aletta is no longer allowed inside?"

  "I'd love to see her try. I'd like to see her show her face at all, in fact," I said.

  Cato purred.

  I brought Not-David in and settled him on the comfortable chair. Cato sat on the arm of the chair watching him intently, as though he didn't trust the man, even unconscious. I went to the kitchen and made two cups of hot tea with honey. I pulled a chair over from the dining room table and settled beside him, watching his face much the same way as Cato was doing.

  He came awake a moment later. I could see where Cato and I staring at him had to be disconcerting, and he gave a little start. He turned to me, his eyes focusing finally. He smiled a little.

  "Kat," he said, a soft whisper. Cato jumped, as though he hadn't expected any words. David looked worried and the smile faded. "I -- I don't know what happened. I felt -- odd. Like something had me. I couldn't --"

  "Something did have you," I said. I held out one of the cups of tea and he accepted with shaking hands. "You know things are not as normal as you thought, right?"

  "Yeah," he said. He sipped and sipped again, probably trying to come to grips with his own fears. I gave him time to get control. "Yeah. I realized things . . . weren't right. Aletta -- what is she?"

  "The same as me," I said. "Fae. Only I'm a border guard and she's a bitch."

  He laughed a little, a good sound, stronger and more himself. Even Cato appeared less worried.

  "Can you tell me anything of what happened?" I asked.

  "I only had glimpses. Sometimes, when he -- we -- looked into mirrors, I could see myself and I knew what had happened. But he stayed clear of them most times. I really don't remember much. I think there were ghosts and horses."

  I nodded. "The control of your body would depend a great deal on believing he is you, but every time he saw a reflection, he would see the truth, and you'd be a little stronger. I think something even happened here once, when you saw your reflection in the window. But I was too stupid to realize what had happened. I'm sorry. I should have been paying better attention."

  "You better ask him about the other stuff," Cato said.

  Not-David gave a startled yelp and splashed tea over himself, me and Cato. He turned frantically to me.

  "I didn't know he could talk!"

  "Oh my," I said and gave a grin. Cato nodded -- he obviously had understood what Not-David had been saying, too. "He can't talk. You just suddenly understand him, which I have always been able to do. Gaylord -- say something, will you?"

  "Oh, I've got plenty to say," he said, but went silent when I waved my hand.

  "No, I only hear bird sounds. You can understand them, too?"

  "Yes."

  "Birds and cats," he said, glancing from me to Cato and Gaylord.

  "Afraid so."

  "Well your life has to be interesting." He tilted his head and smiled. "You are strawberries and sugar. I can taste them whenever you come near me. And your house is filled with vanilla."

  I suddenly understood that part as well. "You've lived closely with magic," I said and smiled. I remembered what he had said in the car about how he liked strawberries. "Sometimes, for a non-magical being, the power creates links in the brain to something already understood. You sense magic as a scent now."

  "And you are magic," he said, his hand reaching over to gently touch my fingers as though to see if I were real.

  "I'm fae. We are very much magic. And not many humans ever know about us. I'm sorry this happened to you. You must be frightened."

  "Being with you isn't frightening," he said. He ignored Cato's little snort. "But being taken over by something else -- did I do anything horrible?"

  I wasn't sure laughing at me and being rude counted for horrible. Trying to kill me did, but I think he remembered enough of the incident and I didn't have say more.

  "I don't think you had a chance. The real changes out there seem to be starting tonight."

  "Why can he understand me?" Cato asked. "And why can I understand him?"

  "I used a lot of magic to get him free. I think some of my power washed over him."

  "Okay. Fine." Cato leaned down and stared him straight in the face. Not-David drew away, worried. "Tell us who the hell you really are."

  "Pardon?"

  Cato's claws came out and rested on his hand, little needles right against the skin.

  "I was looking through a magazine and saw a picture of the real David Carter," I explained, a hand on Cato's shoulder. "You are not him."

  "Oh." He turned red and bowed his head over the mostly empty cup. "No, I'm not; I'm his apprentice, Adrian Caine. David's been trying to get me a chance to break into the big times. But he couldn't get any of the name magazines to take a chance. It made him mad. So he gave me an assignment they had given to him. He wanted to prove them wrong, and so did I. Where's my equipment?"

  "In your car or at the hotel," I said. He sounded almost reasonable.

  "Here." He gave me his cup and stood, though he could barely keep to his feet as he pulled a billfold from his pocket. He dropped in to the chair, as though standing had taken all the energy he had. "Glad the billfold is still here. You'll find all my IDs and among the pictures, you'll find one of David Carter and me."

  The driver's license confirmed the name, and I found the picture, clearly s
howing the real David Carter and him, both with cameras, both smiling -- confirmation enough for me. Even Cato nodded.

  "I'm sorry Kat," he whispered. "I really am. I hadn't expected this to be any more than a quick assignment, prove myself as a photographer, and later let you know what had happened. I hoped there would be no bad feelings. But . . . but even before this madness . . . I started feeling badly. I didn't know what to do. I should have told you --"

  "It's all right," I said, partly because in the scheme of everything else, this was really a little thing. Besides, his face had paled and he looked truly upset. "You not being David Carter made all of this seem worse."

  "I should have told you right away, as soon as I felt . . . as soon as I began to trust you."

  "We've both made some mistakes. Mine was to trust Aletta at all. And I'm sorry, David -- Adrian. I should have known from the moment she arrived that she intended something."

  "Can you stop her? What is she doing?"

  "I don't know the answer to either, yet. I haven't pieced enough together. I think she's trying to bring some of the fae world across to this reality, but nothing from my world will last once The Edge settles down."

  "The Edge?"

  "The area where my world touches upon yours. Most of the time The Edge stays calm, quiet and hardly noticeable, but sometimes the thing kicks up a fuss. This is one of those times, and worse than usual, all over the world."

  "Could Aletta have something to do with The Edge being so unstable?" Cato asked.

  "Well, she's generally irritating, but I don't think she could irritate an inanimate object."

  "If anyone could, she would be the one," Cato said.

  Both Adrian and I both nodded. Odd. I had never thought about sharing this ability with anyone. Most Fae could understand cats of course, but they didn't share my home and work. I didn't mind. Neither, apparently, did Cato. The other cats were likely going to be upset, though. I didn't know if this transference would last. I wondered how Timber and my father were going to take the news . . . if I ever got in touch with them again.

  Adrian stood and walked around a little. He didn't limp, which meant it must have been a part of the one who had taken him over. I filed that away as one more fact that I hoped would add up to anything useful.

  Gaylord and Shakespeare still watched him warily, though even Shakespeare didn't seem quite as upset as he had been before. Adrian wandered a little, obviously still weak and shaken. He listened as cats came in and reported what they had found. He said nothing, which I appreciated. These were the wilder strays, and they came in slinking with their tails down and their eyes darting everywhere. I felt sorry because they feared bright lights and warm houses.

  Four in a row brought basically the same news: Whatever had been happening when I brought Adrian through town had faded, even though the power should have gotten stronger during the night. The riders had mostly disappeared from the streets, and even the dark things had taken refuge. I had the feeling they had suffered a defeat, and they went to regroup. So why didn't I feel as though I'd had a win?

  "I think we're okay for the night," I said at last. Snow fell, a light but steady curtain of white blocking off most of the world. Magic drifted down in every flake. There was far too much magic in this area and the power would affect everything here for a while, no matter what else happened. I would have to deal with it -- later.

  I turned to see Adrian leaning heavily against a chair, his head bowed, plainly too worn to even stay to his feet much longer.

  "Come on," I said, crossing to him. I took hold of his arm. "You need rest. We all do."

  "But --" he said, waving his other arm toward the door.

  "Things are calm tonight. I've used all the magic I can. I need rest. I think Aletta and her allies do as well. So let's take advantage of this time. If anything happens, the cats or the birds will come to tell me. But right now . . . come on."

  He didn't argue. I sent him in for a shower, and he wisely didn't take much time, coming out in his jeans, but shirtless. He had a few bruises, but so did I. We'd both had a damned rough couple days and we hadn't even started to fight the war yet.

  He sat on the bed by me, looking uncertain, worried -- afraid, though he hid that well.

  "Lie down," I said to him. "Go ahead. The bed is large. I think we'll both do better if we're here, together."

  He didn't argue. When I started to take off my shirt, he reached to help, though fumbling with the buttons. Whenever his fingers brushed my skin, it sent a shiver through me. This was not the time. We were both tired, worn, worried --

  "You've gone through hell," he said softly as he helped pull the shirt off. I nodded and turned, tossing the shirt aside.

  He rubbed my neck, fingers kneading muscles where they felt almost rock hard. I leaned into his touch despite myself and maybe even made a little purring sound, because he gave a short laugh. This felt good, and I don't even know how I went from leaning into the soothing feel, to lying down and letting him work his fingers down my back. I needed this tonight.

  He leaned closer and kissed the back of my neck.

  I turned to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down closer to me, our lips meeting -- sweet melting, warmth -- maybe even better than the first time. His bare chest brushed against my mostly bare skin. I shivered at the feel of his hands in my hair, turning my head. I pressed against him.

  "Strawberries," he whispered, his voice panting softly as our mouths parted. "Strawberries."

  Movement -- the flap of wings. I pulled my head away and he turned. Shakespeare had come into the room -- Shakespeare who never left the area of his perch. He landed on the table beside the bed, and looked at the two of us, shaking his head.

  "Hath not the same fierce heirdom given, Rome to Caesar, this to me?"

  And something clicked finally. Strawberries.

  "I get it! I understand. Shakespeare can't speak parrot because he's gone through what you have! He's been trying to tell me -- something. I don't know what yet -- but I know he's trying to give me answers."

  Shakespeare nodded several times. He came closer and brushed against my hand. I understood. He had answers, though I still had to find out what they meant. This was the first real break we had.

  I sent him to his perch and used a little magic to close the door before I fell into Adrian's arms.

  Sometimes the hormones win.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I woke the next morning feeling far calmer than I had since this insanity began. I'm not alone. I felt languid, relaxed, and I smiled at where Adrian slept, his face turned a little into the pillow in Cato's usual spot. He even smiled in his sleep, and didn't wake as I slid out of bed and stretched. Snow fell outside the window. Good? Bad? I didn't know: The snow existed, nothing more.

  After a quick shower, I found Adrian had pulled a pillow over his head, obviously trying to block out the sunlight. He looked cute.

  Yeah, I know -- the new love stuff can drive a person crazy. I'd have to try and curb all this sweetness and get back to work soon. Really.

  I realized there had been a buildup of magic overnight, which couldn't be good. At least nothing hit in one of those horrible, overpowering waves I'd felt when this mess started. The day felt calmer, despite the weather and the magic. I didn't think that feeling came entirely from me.

  I dressed and walked out to the living room where I found Gaylord on a chair by the window and making kissy sounds. On a branch the other side sat a startling blue Steller's jay.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, standing beside him.

  "Are you kidding? Look at her! She's gorgeous. Look at those wings! Man, I'd love to nest in those wings. And those tail feathers!" He gave a cockatiel version of a wolf whistle.

  "She's not even your species."

  "Hey," he said, jabbing at my arm. "Do I say anything about you and the human?"

  I couldn't argue that point.

  I went to the kitchen and made tea and toast, sent a lit
tle magical nudge to get David . . . Adrian out of bed and into the shower. I had breakfast waiting on the table when he came out, though I used a little magic to get everything done and in place in time.

  He appeared startled at first and then pleased when I waved him toward the chair. I had already settled into mine and sipped my tea as though I hadn't rushed through the kitchen like a crazed pixie. Oxymoron there, I know.

  "Thank you! This is great!" He smiled as he sat down. "Do you think we're going to have snow all day?"

  "I think we're going to have snow until this mess clears up. This much magic in the area is bound to interact with the weather."

  He sipped his tea and watched me over the cup. "What are we going to do?"

  I could have said I didn't want him involved, but I try not to say the kinds of stupid lines I wince at in the movies. He was as involved as me at this point. Tell him he couldn't help because he didn't have magic? Neither did Cato, but he helped me.

  And this was his world.

  "I don't know what Aletta is doing, except --"

  I stopped and lifted my hand, carefully feeling the world outside my safe home. Something different there, and the touch worried me in the light of day. Adrian said nothing, waiting patiently as he sipped his tea. He distracted me, just sitting there, but I made myself get over it, which was the far better choice than sending him away.

  And I felt something, a ways out of town.

  "I found something odd. Some kind of magic shield has encircled the whole area around us. I don't think Aletta wants anything in or out of town. The ward goes all the way into the park. And The Edge has moved, though no closer to town at least. Damn. I don't know what any of this means."

  Adrian reached over and put a hand atop of mine. I smiled.

  And Cato, walking over from the chair where he had slept, snorted. Gaylord did much the same.

  "You two could be playing in the snow, you know," I said.

  "Sure," Cato said with a dramatic sigh. "You get a human male and you kick your faithful companions out into the snow --"