Murder Between the Worlds: A Between the Worlds Novel

by Morgan Daimler

  Allie swallowed hard as six sets of eyes fastened on her. She knew what they were seeing, but wasn’t sure what any of them thought about her. Short, and with a generous figure that was poorly hidden by baggy jeans and a loose t-shirt, Allie had been told many times that she would be considered pretty if she put a little effort into her appearance; most people failed to realize that her effort was aimed at staying inconspicuous and not attracting attention. Her long, dark blonde hair was up in a ponytail that covered her ears without being obvious about it. She felt her personal shields strengthening when her body tensed as she subconsciously tried to keep whatever the cops were feeling away from her.

  The group crossed the open lounge area and headed straight for the counter. Part of her wanted desperately to stay behind the illusion of safety it offered, but she forced herself to step out and meet them halfway. Normally she would have had a cheerful greeting for anyone entering the store but she found herself speechless before the massed authority these people represented. After a brief awkward silence the tall cop spoke, with a reassuring smile, “Good afternoon. Is the store owner around?”

  Allie cleared her throat trying to sound calm, “That’s me. I’m the owner.”

  Surprise flashed across his face before he fixed the smile back in place, “You? You don’t look old enough to own this store.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was being disingenuous or sincere, but thought that his friendly manner probably worked really well in his line of work. She decided to stay polite, “I inherited it from my grandmother.”

  His smile widened, but it was hard to feel reassured with the wall of silent judgment standing behind him. “We were hoping we could ask you some questions, if you have a minute?”

  She nodded wordlessly and he went on, “I’m Detective Riordan, this is my partner Detective Walters, and this is Captain Zarethyn and his squad; they’re a detachment of the Elven Guard. We’re investigating the murders, the ones the papers have been calling the parking lot killings.”

  She’d expected something like that but Allie felt her mouth go dry at his words. Before she could find a way to tell him she already knew more than he realized the detective was going on, “Several people recommended you as an expert on the occult, although to be honest I was expecting someone a lot older.”

  A what? She thought, confused, but pushed that aside for the moment. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to speak up, “Detective, I have to tell you, full disclosure or whatever, that I think my roommate is your prime suspect…”

  “What?” The shorter cop, Walters, snapped.

  “…and Officer Lyons is also my roommate,” Allie finished.

  “Interesting,” The Elven Captain murmured, breaking his silence. The other elves stood impassively, seemingly content to let the humans handle the questioning. Riordan seemed at a loss for words but his partner didn’t.

  “That’s a bit too much of a coincidence isn’t it? You all being roommates?” The way he said roommates dripped with innuendo and Allie felt herself getting defensive.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Oh I’m sure it isn’t,” the detective said sarcastically, “two women, an elf…”

  “There’s five of us living in the house,” Allie said before she could stop herself. She realized he was trying to upset her, to keep her off balance. Freaking good cop/bad cop, really? Isn’t that a cliché? I wonder if it’s on purpose or if they were assigned together to balance each other out? She thought, feeling tired. “We’re friends, nothing else.”

  Riordan finally recovered and cut in, talking to her in the same friendly way as before, earning an annoyed look from his partner, “Of course. What have your roommates told you about the case?”

  “Not much. Syndra said a joint team had been formed,” she replied, trying to be honest without saying anything that might get Syn in trouble.

  “And what about him?” Walters asked sharply, “What did he tell you?”

  She met his grey eyes and was surprised by the genuine anger there. “That he found a body and was questioned about it. That he didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “And you believe that?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said simply.

  “You know he’s an ex-con?” Walters asked, clearly hoping for a chance to tell her the gory details.

  “Yeah, I know,” her answer seemed to catch him off guard.

  “Are you kidding me? And that doesn’t bother you at all? Or maybe his pretty face makes it all okay?”

  Riordan gave his partner a warning look and Allie realized all four of the elves were frowning. He better be careful how hard he pushes that, Allie thought, but he must really be bothered by the idea of elves and humans getting together. Fabulous. He obviously wasn’t aware of her ancestry and she doubted it would go over well when he figured it out.

  “We’re just friends nothing more. There’s no romantic relationship between me and him–or her,” Allie added quickly seeing Walters mouth opening and guessing where the next innuendo would be aimed.

  “Right.” Cynicism dripped from the single word. The detective was staring at her hard now and she fought the urge to fidget under the scrutiny. He was clearly trying to fit the pieces together, and she doubted he would have made detective unless he was good at it.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Rick,” Riordan tried to get his partner’s attention, but the other man waved him off.

  “We want to make sure she’s the right person don’t we?” His words were innocent but Allie doubted his motives matched them.

  “Allie McCarthy,” she replied.

  “She’s the one that was recommended,” Riordan tried again to sidetrack his partner, without success.

  “Allie’s your first name?” Walters pressed.

  “It’s what most people call me,” she said, trying to dodge the direct question.

  “Don’t get cute, honey. What’s your legal first name?” he looked strangely triumphant, as if he thought he was being very clever. She wanted to hit him.

  “Aliaine”

  Everyone else looked surprised, but Walters let slip a petty little smile. It made him look ugly and mean, and Allie started to hate him.

  “So what are you? A half? A quarter? You hide it really well, I bet you pass as a real human all the time.”

  She made a monumental effort to control her face and not react to that insult, even as the other cop looked mortified and told him to shut up. The elves all went completely blank faced and she had no idea what they were thinking. When she spoke her voice didn’t betray any of her feelings; this was hardly the first time someone had said something rude to her about her parentage, after all. “Is it illegal to have mixed ancestry?”

  “Trying to avoid an honest answer?” Walters sneered in response, but his partner grabbed his arm and physically pulled him back, leaning over to talk directly into his ear. Allie could just barely hear him telling the other man to ease off a little and not press so hard; she felt annoyed that her original guess that they were playing roles to put her off balance seemed correct, but she doubted Walters was really playing. She also wasn’t sure the elves were on the same page of the cop play book and she wondered how well the joint task force was working together. If this experience was any indication, not very well.

  The Elven Captain, who turned out to be one of the blond elves, stepped forward into the tense silence. Inclining his head slightly in a polite nod as if none of that ugly exchange had just happened, he greeted her in Elvish, “Good afternoon, I am Zarethyn. Do you speak the language?”

  He spoke slowly and his tone was friendly but she knew he was testing her. He would not be rude enough to repeat Walters question, however he could judge her ancestry fairly well just by how she answered this simple question. If she didn’t speak Elvish at all, then it was a safe assumption that her own connection to the Fey was slight; having a fairy name after all wasn’t that telling, no matter how damning the Detective tried to make it o
ut to be. If she answered him in kind he could judge by her fluency and which dialect she used. The Fey were notoriously classist and the elves were the highest ranking beings of their world so the language they spoke was more formal and used slightly different pronouns than the dialect spoken by the lesser Fey. For one moment Allie was sorely tempted to respond in English and let him make of that what he would, but she resisted the urge. The elves were often deceptive and tricky to deal with but it was unwise to lie directly to one, particularly when that one was the Captain of a Guard detachment and she was fairly certain lying by omission wouldn’t be seen as any different than speaking a lie directly.

  “Good afternoon,” she replied, struggling to keep her voice level and think of all the proper polite things to say. She hated Elven etiquette. “I speak the language. My name is Aliaine. I would greet your comrades but I do not know their names.”

  She hoped that last was alright. She was too tired to remember whether it was rude to ask for the introduction or whether it was expected. He smiled slightly, relaxing almost imperceptibly, and she decided it had been the right thing to say. He gestured at his three companions, starting with the other blond on his left, “This is my second in command, Jessilaen.”

  Jessilaen, who was a bit shorter and had lighter hair than the Captain, nodded, and she nodded back. Zarethyn gestured at the dark haired elf next, “Our field medic and healer, Brynneth.”

  More polite nodding, then the final elf, the red-headed one, was introduced, “Aeyliss, who is an excellent tracker.”

  She nodded at the fourth elf, trying not to look impressed. She had heard of the magical trackers who could follow almost any spell back to its source like a hound following a scent. It was a rare gift and highly valued. The elves must be taking these murders very seriously to have assigned such a resource to the case.

  “We are trying to find the one who has been killing so many women here and we believe you may be able to help us,” Zarethyn said, stepping closer and leaning in towards her. Elves had very rigid rules of social interaction, but they were ones that often confused humans; much more physically open and seemingly unaware of the concept of personal space yet easily insulted and very formal. They thought nothing of casual physical contact that would make most humans squirm with discomfort, but considered minor slights of politeness or divergence from expected social norms to be serious breaches that could result in a challenge to a physical or magical duel. Leaning in would have been intended as intimidation by a human but Allie knew he was simply trying to be friendly; like Detective Riordan’s constant smiling it was meant to reassure. Nonetheless Allie felt overwhelmed by his presence but she didn’t dare insult him by stepping back, and for a moment didn’t know what to say.

  “I think it might be better to speak the native language here, so that the police are not offended,” she said, although she was more worried about Walters’ suspicion than any offense he might take. The Elven Captain inclined his head slightly in the equivalent of a shrug.

  “Of course,” he replied in English stepping back slightly to include the police in the conversation. “You were recommended as someone knowledgeable in the occult.”

  “Isn’t it a problem that I know one of the suspects?” Allie asked, earning a derisive snort from Walters who obviously agreed.

  “Not to our view,” Zarethyn replied seeming genuinely unconcerned, “Such motivation should ensure your best efforts to find the killer in order to help clear your friend’s name. If he is truly innocent you can prove as much. If he is guilty you will not be able to hide his guilt and will still aid us in rooting out the truth. All the people we have spoken too thus far recommended you and you are connected to two other people involved in this case–there is some higher purpose at work behind your involvement and we would see where it leads.”

  The other elves nodded slightly, supporting their Captain’s words, but the human police looked unhappy; Walters looked downright pissed, but neither argued. Allie wondered who was ultimately in charge here. She cleared her throat and then spoke hesitantly. “I’m not sure what I can do to help. I’m not really an expert in anything. I’m just a book store owner who reads a lot and a witch with some skill with charms and enchantments. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary.”

  “You keep giving a lot of reasons why we shouldn’t want your help, “Walters said, earning a warning look from his partner, “It sounds like you just really don’t want to help us.”

  “If I can help I will, I’m just not sure I can,” she said, feeling awkward saying it. The little bell over the door jangled and she looked up to see two older women, members of one of the local covens, stepping in. The local magical groups, covens, groves and lodges had become a strong customer base for her because they knew she carried a wide array of hard to find books as well as the usual popular ones and was always willing to special order. Borderland towns tended to attract a higher number of magic workers and psychics, drawn to the Otherworldly atmosphere that made their magic more effective, as well as people who had no innate magical abilities but were drawn to the idea of seeing fairies. Many people looked down on magically inclined-humans and assumed they were all just Fairy groupies, but Allie knew it wasn’t that simple and treated them all kindly. The rare few that really were only interested in a close personal encounter with a non-human she directed to the Seventh Star, a small, notorious club across town. Her approach had earned her the respect of the locals, something that she considered a hard won victory.

  Both women paused on the threshold taking in the strange scene by the counter: the two cops, the four Elven Guard, Allie standing awkwardly facing the six police. One woman started to step in, but the other clutched her arm and practically dragged her back out the door. Allie swore silently. Not only had she lost a potential sale but word would get around that she’d had the police and Guard in the store questioning her. Within a few hours the story would spread through the different groups in town, and like the children’s game of “Telephone” by the end it would not resemble the actual event anymore. By tomorrow they’d probably be saying her store had been raided by a half dozen government agencies and a small army from Fairy. She was really starting to hate this entire day.

  Oblivious to her dismay, Detective Riordan had regained his composure and his signature smile, “Basically we need to know what you might know about ritual murders.”

  “Ritual murders? You mean, like human sacrifice in an occult context?” she felt herself making a face, “It’s really not very likely. I mean sometimes in the older accounts you see cultures that did it–were the girls’ hearts missing?” Several people shook their heads no and Allie went on, “Then not that. Usually when you hear about ritual murders it’s not actually any real tradition or group, it’s just an individual crazy acting out some fantasy.”

  Walters was watching her closely and his face had become unreadable. She found it unsettling and lost her train of thought. Can’t the jerk just say whatever he’s thinking instead of looking at me like he can’t decide whether to hit me with his squad car or agree with me? she thought uncomfortably.

  “Are you certain?” One of the elves asked. Jessilaen, Allie remembered after a moment. He was also looking at her closely, but it didn’t make her skin crawl the way Walters scrutiny did. It was almost a relief to turn and focus on the Elven Guard.

  “Well…I can’t be certain, no. There are a few groups that do use death to raise energy, but not usually human death. Animals mostly, from what I understand. And I don’t know very much at all about that end of things, just what I’ve read and a few anecdotal things.”

  “How would you tell if it was such a ritual?” he pressed.

  Allie took a deep breath, thinking about the question. “I don’t know. It would depend on the ultimate point of the ritual, I guess. If it was just to gather the energy of the death, to harness it…”

  Her voice trailed off as something Bleidd had said in the bathroom suddenly flickered through her mind. S
omething must have shown on her face because both of the closest elves, Zarethyn and Jessilaen, stepped towards her. Looking quizzical the Elven Captain stepped back slightly and the other elf moved forward putting his hands on her shoulders. She looked up, meeting his eyes without feeling uncomfortable at the physical proximity, which was the Elven equivalent of a pat on the hand or encouraging nod. Allie bit her lip, thinking fast. “He said the girls had been raped and mutilated.”

  “Who?”

  “Bleidd”

  “Gee, I wonder why he told you that?” Walters sneered, his voice implying unpleasant things. Allie couldn’t stop herself from glaring at him but recoiled a bit at the open animosity on his face. The burly detective’s gaze was fixed on the Elven Guard’s hands on her shoulders, in a way that made her feel suddenly exposed. She shifted her weight away from Jessilaen but stopped short of stepping back. The Guard’s head turned towards the cop and for the first time she saw something like real anger break through the impassivity that had been the Guards’ trademark since they had first come in. She spoke quickly trying to diffuse what seemed to be an inevitably nasty situation. “He told me because he was telling me that you had questioned him, and he said what was done to that girl was horrible. He didn’t get into any detail about it.”

  The shutters came back down over Walters face as his partner stepped up in front of him, partially blocking him from her view. Riordan spoke slowly but with obvious interest “Is that significant? The girls being raped and cut up? All of our investigation so far has pointed to that not being a typical occult thing.”

  “It isn’t. But there’s something about that–something familiar about that somehow,” Allie frowned. “It’s like when you’re trying to remember a word and it’s on the tip of your tongue, you know? I feel like I’ve heard about something like that or read about it before, but I can’t quite think of where.”