Spin the Shadows

by Cate Corvin

  Robin looked out of the darkened window at the waning moon overhead. “The Ghosthand never operates outside the full moon. Tonight you’d be safe, but the offer stands.”

  I figured Robin knew much more about the Ghosthand’s modus operandi than anyone else. If he said it was safe, then I was biking home. Having him make me dinner and then drive me home would be just a little too comfortable, in my humble opinion.

  Best to keep that to missions only. We weren’t friends, or even equals. Getting comfortable with Gentry, feeling like you were their equal, was a recipe for heartbreak.

  “I’ll walk,” I mumbled.

  He raised one shoulder in a shrug, but I caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. He was frowning again.

  Robin walked me to the front door. It was easier to look him directly in the face in the shadows, while my own face was hidden too. “Good night, Miss Appletree. Text me when you’ve arrived safely.”

  I grinned up at him. “Will do, boss.”

  There was a pang of regret when I stepped off the porch and the door shut behind me.

  My pink bike was still where I’d left it, propped against one of the outer stone walls. I biked through Thornwood and down Main Street.

  More Fae and humans were out tonight, as everyone tended to be a little more comfortable during the waxing and waning of the moon. The dark of the moon was when parties got really wild.

  Under a set of iron stoplights, crossing the border from Main to Mothwing Falls, I got off my bike and decided to walk with it instead. I needed a little time to clear my head before I walked into the selkie twins’ enthusiastic domain, with all their questions about why I was so late and what I was doing, along with lots of waggling eyebrows.

  The residential outskirts of Mothwing Falls swallowed me up, the streets becoming cobblestone and only dim lights still on.

  I was so deep in thought that I nearly tripped over a loose stone. I stumbled and looked down.

  It wasn’t a loose stone, but a pink snakeskin purse. A tube of lipstick and a few receipts fluttered out of the open bag.

  I stared at it, a numb feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Something else that was pink sat just within the shadows between houses. I pulled out my Acorn 8 and flipped on the flashlight, taking a step closer.

  My bicycle clattered to the ground.

  There was a body in the alley.

  And it was everywhere.

  10

  I opened my mouth to scream and managed to clap a hand over my mouth instead.

  Something glistening and bright fluttered down out of the sky, and I batted it away in my panic before I recognized the acerbic voice.

  “Briallen! Briallen!” Sisse clutched onto one of my flailing hands and clung for dear life. “It’s me! Calm down or I’ll bite!”

  I stopped waving her away, freezing in place. My knees were shaking, feeling almost liquid. If I didn’t sit down, I was going to crash onto the pavement.

  “Sisse… she’s dead.” I took several deep breaths. “Oh, my trees. Oh, Blessed fucking Branches. She’s all over the place.”

  “Sit down.” Sisse flew to my shoulder. “There’s no one else around. Sit right there on the porch and call Robin now.”

  I walked to the porch, mercifully leaving the sight of the body behind, and sat down hard. My hands were shaking so badly that Sisse had to hop down to my wrist and press the dial button when I found Robin’s number.

  He answered before the first ring had finished. “Briallen?” His voice was oddly breathless, tense.

  I opened my mouth, and instead of words, a dry sob left my throat.

  Sisse pinched me on the collar bone. The pain was sudden, sharp, clarifying.

  “Briallen, where are you?” I heard Robin shutting a door in the background, the jangle of car keys.

  “She’s dead,” I whispered. “I’m in Mothwing Falls. The Ghosthand killed her.”

  Sisse pushed her way under my chin, putting her tiny head near the phone. “We’re on Morpho Street, Robin. The Ghosthand is long gone, no one else in sight, but… it’s a bad one.”

  “I’m on my way.” His voice was terse. “Stay on the line, Briallen. The Garda are coming.”

  Even though I trusted Sisse, I still pulled myself back into the furthest, darkest corner of the porch, drawing up my knees to make myself smaller. If the Ghosthand came back, I’d at least see him coming.

  I probably wouldn’t be able to escape, but I’d rather die with my eyes open.

  The distant sound of sirens was like music to my ears.

  Sisse stroked my hair reassuringly, clinging to a wild curl like a rope. “You’ll get used to death if you work for Robin,” she said kindly.

  I’d calmed down enough from my blind panic to feel another jab of shame. “But I cried,” I whispered.

  “Every Garda on the force who saw a Ghosthand victim cried the first time, and if they tell you otherwise, they’re lying.” Sisse pursed her lips. “It’s natural. You’ll adapt.”

  I looked down at her tiny self, faintly shimmering in the darkness, and realized she was here because Robin had asked her to follow me home and make sure I got there safely.

  The little glow of warmth I felt for him expanded into a small sun in my chest.

  There was no way I was going to be sitting curled up on the porch like a scared-shitless coward when he showed up with the Garda. I got up and trotted down the stairs, only wobbling a little on still-weak knees, and avoided looking at the alley as I dragged my bike out of the way.

  Then I made it back to the porch steps as Robin’s sleek black sports car came screaming to a halt at the curb.

  He was out of the car before I’d even hung up the phone and shoved it back in my pocket, his hands clasping my shoulders.

  “You’re all right?” he asked swiftly, looking me over and taking in the tear stains on my cheeks.

  I nodded mutely as the street lit up with bright lights. Robin released my shoulders instantly, standing in front of me as several Garda cars pulled up.

  Their blazing gold and white lights lit up the entire street. The curtains on apartments were being drawn back, lights flickering on in the houses around us.

  How had all of these people heard nothing? Hadn’t the poor dead Fae screamed as she died?

  A Garda officer got out of the first car, her sharp-boned face grim. An ambulance disgorged two Emergency Services Fae, and I stifled a morbid giggle: it’s too late to help her now.

  But Robin seemed happy to see them. He waved one over. “Bring a blanket,” he commanded.

  That’s when I became aware I was shivering violently for the second time tonight. My arms were wrapped around myself, but I’d been so glad to see Robin here with backup, I hadn’t thought about it.

  One of the ESFs practically came running over with the blanket, and Robin shook it out and wrapped it around my shoulders as the grim-faced officer and her retinue looked into the alley.

  I heard the low murmurs as if from far away. “You don’t have to look again, Miss Appletree,” he said quietly. “Did you see anyone?”

  I clutched the blanket tightly. “No. The street was dark but dead silent when I got here.”

  Sisse had immediately hopped over to Robin’s shoulder. “There was no one, Robin. The kill looks recent, but we’re talking at least an hour ago.”

  I couldn’t help but look back at the alley as the officer stepped out, even grimmer than before. She held a notepad in one hand. “Sir, I’d like to interview the witness.”

  “She saw nothing and disturbed nothing.” Robin’s tone could’ve rivaled a glacier for coldness. “I trust her word.”

  The officer looked like she wanted to quail. “But sir… it’s protocol…”

  I slipped a hand from under my blanket and touched Robin’s arm. His muscles were corded as hard as iron beneath his shirt, betraying his tension. “It’s okay, boss. I’ll talk to her. Just not near… that.”

  I nodded toward
s the open mouth of the alley, now brightly illuminated, and saw something strange.

  The brick walls were smeared with the dust of a charred body and bits of cooked flesh, but there was a lacy sheen of ice creeping over the stone.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Robin snapped. “It’s a crime scene, not a circus.”

  He headed towards the mouth of the alley and I followed automatically, swallowing hard and steeling my stomach for the sight of it again.

  A tall man in a white suit was walking towards us from the other end.

  I blinked at the incongruous sight.

  He was pristine from head to toe, the suit cut to fit a muscular figure, but wherever he stepped, tendrils of frost swirled against the stone like glittering, spiky flowers. Ice-white hair hung to his shoulders, and his eyes were so pale a blue they were nearly white.

  “Oh, do let them interview the dryad, Robin,” he drawled.

  Robin’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the newcomer. “You have no jurisdiction here, Jack.”

  The newcomer—Jack— stepped over the body, leaving no frost on its remains. He had a sharp, angular face, tempered by full lips and hooded eyes that gave him a sensual look.

  “But I do.” He pointed to the body. “That’s an Unseelie migrant, so this is now my jurisdiction as well.” Jack’s gaze moved to me next, taking in my mess of curly hair, the tear stains, the blanket. “I have every right to be here,” he finally said to Robin. “We’ve been as afflicted by the Ghosthand as you have.”

  Robin’s lip curled. “Very well, then, if you must.” He looked down at me, the coldness leaving his gaze. “Come, Miss Appletree. Let’s get this over with.”

  He led me to the porch and I sat down, while Robin, Jack, and the young officer remained standing, looking down at me.

  I started slowly, making it sound like I’d worked late for Fairy Ferry deliveries— not quite an open lie, just a little slip of omission. The officer scribbled furiously as I spoke, until I got to the part where I was walking home.

  One of the other Garda had joined the officer. “Odd you’d be walking home alone so late at night,” he commented. “What with the Ghosthand on the loose.”

  The look Robin gave him could’ve struck a man dead on the spot, but it was the officer herself who put a stop to that line of questioning.

  “She’s one of his,” she hissed at the interrupter, who went white and glanced at Robin.

  The gold Left Hand badge was shining on Robin’s chest. Robin just smiled at the Garda until the Fae muttered an excuse and left.

  It was curious to watch Robin’s pull over the Garda in action. He could probably have killed someone himself, and they’d still be calling him ‘sir’ while they handcuffed him in cold iron and gently hauled him off to a cushy cell.

  As far as insinuating one of his own employees was the Ghosthand herself… yeah, I could see how it would be wiser to back off and maybe try to avoid Robin for the next six years or so.

  “That’s all I know,” I finished. “Like everyone else, I thought tonight would be safe from the Ghosthand.”

  Jack had never looked away from me. The entire time I’d spoken, I’d ignored that icy gaze. “I’d like to see your ID, Miss Appletree.”

  Robin shot him a warning look, but there was nothing illegal about a Gentry demanding to see ID from a Lesser. I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it over.

  His fingers brushed mine and I almost yanked my hand away. I’d expected him to feel as cold as the ice he seemed to generate around him, but his fingers were warm.

  He had the same light callouses as Robin: despite the flawless white suit, he was a man used to working with his hands.

  Jack looked over the ID, studying it with agonizing slowness, and finally gave it back to me. “Emain Ablach. Are the apples any good?”

  I tucked the ID away and shrugged, starting to feel a little more normal. “I hate apples, so I’m the wrong one to ask.”

  To my surprise, Jack laughed softly, then looked back at the body. His mirth died, the smile on his full lips becoming brittle. “You might want to get home soon, Briallen. Clearly all bets are off when it comes to gambling against our lives.”

  Even Robin looked a little disturbed when he glanced at the body. And to think, while he assured me it was safe, that the Ghosthand was burning yet another Fae from the inside at the same exact time.

  The Garda were taking photos. One leaned over the corpse with a swab.

  I took a deep breath and took off the blanket, handing it to the lurking ESF. “Okay. If we’re settled here, I’m going home now.”

  Robin walked with me to my bike. “Let me walk you home, Briallen.”

  I looked up into deep blue eyes that seemed to tug somewhere inside my chest. I could say no, walking me home was crossing a little bit of the boss-employee line, but… “I’d appreciate that.”

  A touch of ice on my left side raised goosebumps on my skin. “Walking your agents home now, Robin?” Jack tsked. “You’ve never had such a soft spot before. Fancy that.”

  “Most of my previous agents were trained for this life,” Robin said tersely. “Briallen is not.”

  There was something mesmerizing about Jack’s pale looks, like an angel frozen in ice. “Ah. And here I thought you’d finally developed a weakness.”

  “She’s no business of yours.”

  “‘She’,” Jack repeated with a sly smile. “I thought we were talking about you?”

  I narrowed my eyes up at him. “Excuse me, sir. I’m very tired, I got a good eyeful of a dead body, and I’d like to go home now. How about we save this for another time?”

  Jack looked momentarily taken aback. I had a feeling most Lesser Fae groveled in front of him, but his smile was back, and much warmer now.

  “As you wish.” Without asking, he took my hand and brushed a kiss across the knuckles before releasing me, so fast I could’ve blinked and missed it. “Good night, Briallen. I look forward to talking to your charming young protégée later, Robin.”

  “There won’t be a later,” Robin mumbled, but Jack was already gliding off down the street, back towards the crime scene.

  I picked up my bike and began wheeling it away without looking back. I’d seen enough death for tonight.

  Robin fell into step easily beside me.

  “Who is he?” I asked, turning onto Monarch Drive. Jack had given me the chills, literally, but there was something about him that seemed friendly under the ice.

  Robin thought on it like he was debating how much to tell me. “Jack Frost. My Unseelie counterpart,” he finally said. “Queen Nicnevin’s Left Hand.”

  “Seems like there’s some bad blood between the two of you.”

  Robin’s teeth flashed white against his black beard. “Call it a traditional rivalry. If he stays out of my way, I stay out of his, but he’s a good contact for hard-to-acquire information.”

  I nodded, thinking of pale, hooded eyes. “Thank you for sending Sisse,” I finally blurted out. “And thank you for being there, Sisse.”

  The pixie preened on his shoulder. Robin glanced at me. “Can’t be too careful.”

  I snorted. “I never thought I’d be happy to have someone creep on me all the way home.”

  If Sisse hadn’t come down to shut me up, I might’ve ended up screaming my head off, making a damn fool of myself, or worse… drawing the Ghosthand back.

  And I kept thinking of how Jack had called me Robin’s agent. Right now, I didn’t feel like much of an agent. I was a part-time, blackmailed employee.

  Agent sounded a lot sexier. Definitely better than courier.

  But that would also mean needing to learn to keep a cool head when I came across dead bodies. Robin wouldn’t have much use for a shrieking dryad—or one who took unnecessary risks.

  Sisse got tired of sitting and fluttered off into the sky, leaving me and Robin alone. The rest of the walk home was strangely comfortable despite the silence and the exhaustion tugging at me.


  When we got to my little apartment, I parked my bike out back, and was surprised when Robin actually walked up the stairs with me. “You’re literally taking me to my front door?” I asked.

  “I said I’d walk you home,” he said behind me.

  I hid a smile and got out my key. The light above the door was still on, meaning the twins were awake.

  “My roommates are up,” I said, not putting the key in yet. They’d hear that.

  And I had the strangest desire to prolong this moment.

  Robin reached the top and looked down at me. He reached out and wiped a smudge of remaining tears off my cheek, the warmth of him a blockade against the cool night.

  His blue eyes were so moody, capricious but caring by turns. A thought shimmered through my mind, how his dark beard would feel against my skin…

  He’s your boss, Briallen. I tuned out the warning thought. Who needed the voice of reason at a time like this?

  He leaned down and my heart stuttered in my chest, stopping dead for a moment before coming to life again and galloping frantically.

  I rose up on my toes, and the little cat sìth from downstairs meowed loudly, jumping up on the railing next to us and staring with big yellow eyes.

  Robin straightened up at the sound like he’d been shocked, dropping his hand. “You’re home safe,” he said briskly. “Take tomorrow as one of your days off and recover from this. Good night, Miss Appletree.”

  I was left feeling empty as he turned and descended the stairs quickly, vanishing into the night.

  The cat sìth mewed and pawed at me. I narrowed my eyes at it. “No fish for you, you fuzzy little cockblock.”

  11

  By the bright light of day, the Ghosthand’s victim seemed like a far more distant memory.

  I’d dreamed of the charred flesh, the oozing handprint in the Unseelie’s chest, the coal-like dust spread everywhere, but as soon as I opened my eyes, it faded under a current of excited determination.

  I wanted to be Robin’s agent.

  And I was going to be late for work again.

  I threw myself out of bed and got dressed, pulling on the wrinkled booty shorts that had spent all night in my backpack and pulling my hair in a high ponytail.