Maeve’s Book of Beasts

by Deborah Cooke

  “Remember you have to report,” Bella reminded him. “He’s waiting.”

  Sebastian nodded. He felt less agitated now that the thirst was satisfied, but still was disgruntled.

  What if he could retrieve his key, and then take the book from Sylvia? He didn’t want anything to do with that volume, but he also couldn’t stand aside and watch Micah’s plan fall into chaos.

  Not if Sylvia’s life was the price.

  It was just because he was right, not because he cared or had a sense of responsibility, much less a moral code.

  Bella turned her coat inside out, so that the black side was out, and headed for the fire escape at the end of the alley. Sebastian watched her go, noting how quickly she seemed to disappear into her surroundings. They could pass easily amongst humans now that they’d fed, but there was no reason to be observed coming out of this alley.

  He struck the match, cast it into the Dumpster and watched the flames catch before he strode after Bella.

  He wanted his key.

  Sylvia dreamed of the book.

  At least, she thought she was dreaming.

  The book was on her kitchen counter, just where she had left it. The apartment was filled with shadows, but a stray beam of moonlight came through the crack between the curtains on the window over the sink. The moonlight touched the book like a silver wand.

  She saw the book shimmer, like it had been illuminated from within.

  It fluttered, its pages making a tinkling sound.

  It opened of its own accord, the pages fanning in the moonlight.

  Sylvia wasn’t in bed. She was in the doorway to the main room of her apartment, opposite the terrace and beside the bathroom. Emily was sleeping on her back on the couch, her breathing heavy. There was a feeling of electricity in the air again, as if lightning had hit somewhere close. Sylvia felt goosepimples rise as a chill swept over her flesh.

  “You have my book,” a woman whispered, her voice dark with anger. Sylvia scanned her apartment but she couldn’t see anyone. “Thief!”

  There was a haze over the book, like a cloud of silver fireflies.

  Sylvia eased closer, her heart racing.

  “Give back my book, Thief,” the woman said. “Return it now.”

  The fireflies, if that was what they were, flowed upward like a flock of birds against a summer sky. A murmuration, that’s what it was called, a mesmerizing wavy pattern of motion. Sylvia stared, unable to keep from doing so, and moved closer.

  “Where are you, Thief?” the woman asked, as if anyone with any sense would confide in her. Her voice was oily and untrustworthy. Dangerous. “Show yourself, Thief.”

  Sylvia licked her lips and moved to the end of the counter. The little lights that looked like fireflies were small creatures. Hundreds of them, all silvery, all flying in the light of the moon. The book’s pages with alive with golden writing that danced and seethed across the pages, script of molten gold or liquid fire.

  “Where have you hidden my book, Thief?” the woman whispered, her voice a little bit louder. The fireflies moved with greater agitation, forming into a spiral.

  Like a tornado.

  It spun faster and faster, the pages of the book lifting in its wind. Sylvia felt her hair blow and snap around her face. The pizza coupons from her mail box that she’d left on the counter blew suddenly to the floor. She heard a dog bark sharply as the pictures on the walls of her apartment began to rock in the wind from the fireflies.

  “What makes you think you can deceive me?” the woman roared.

  Sylvia reached out quickly, flicked the book shut and shoved it off the counter onto the floor. It landed with a thud in the darkness. The fireflies disappeared and the wind stopped. The moon must have moved behind a cloud because the finger of moonlight was gone and Sylvia shivered at the sudden chill in her apartment.

  Emily slept on.

  The dog barked again, then sniffed audibly at the bottom of the door to the hall before retreating.

  “Loki!” a man said, chiding the dog from the stairway. The stairs creaked beneath the weight of his steps. “Come, Loki!”

  It was Caleb and his dog.

  He tapped once on Sylvia’s door, softly, such a quiet tap that it wouldn’t have awakened her if she was sleeping.

  “Yes,” Sylvia managed to say. She didn’t open the door.

  “Everything all right?” There was something reassuring about his concern, and his presence. She liked that the dog had heard the book’s ruckus.

  Sylvia looked at the book, which looked like a cheap notebook on her kitchen floor. “Fine,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Just a bad dream.”

  “Sorry about the dog,” Caleb said.

  “No, it’s fine. Thanks for checking on us.”

  He mumbled something, maybe “It’s what I do,” and then Sylvia heard his footfalls on the stairs as he went back to his apartment.

  Funny how no one else in the building had heard anything. Celeste, the widow in 4F, didn’t miss much but she hadn’t made a sound.

  Maybe she was away.

  Sylvia picked up the book, turning it over once, then looked around for somewhere to put it where no moonlight could touch it. The bottom of her purse seemed like the best choice. She wedged it in there and went back to bed.

  She didn’t think she’d go back to sleep easily but she was wrong.

  Three

  The meeting convened as soon as the last human patron left Bones. Murray had barely locked the door when the Others began to arrive. Those who worked at the bar were already there, of course. The rest arrived through the doors hidden in the basement or flowed down from the access to the roof. As Mel had anticipated, it was an anxious crowd, ready for debate, and the bar was full of arguing Others within moments. Murray turned up the lights and Mel started to pull glasses of draft beer. Each one was taken as soon as she placed it on the counter and she hoped the kegs were full.

  Mel also hoped the meeting was short. It was Sunday already and she could feel the weekly change beginning deep inside, like a portent of doom. By dawn, her involutary shift would be complete and it would last until the last bit of daylight faded. She wanted to be home with the door locked and a good book before that happened.

  She couldn’t help but notice that the vampires were absent.

  Murray came to work beside her, his brow furrowed, and pulled glasses of beer as quickly as he could.

  “Didn’t you invite the vampires?” she asked him in an undertone and he shook his head.

  “I thought we should discuss their part first.”

  “They shouldn’t even have a part in this,” said a wolf shifter as he claimed two glasses. “They aren’t part of it.”

  “He had the book,” Mel said. “That made him part of it.”

  “It didn’t give them the right to decide,” Kara, the Valkyrie waitress said as she put glasses of beer on a tray. She carried them to a table of djinn who started to make the beer disappear.

  “Actually, it did,” Murray observed. “Possession being nine tenths of the law and all that.”

  “We didn’t have to go along with it,” the wolf shifter argued. Mel couldn’t remember his name. Truth be told, she had a hard time distinguishing between the werewolves, since they acted so similarly. This one wasn’t Caleb, their leader, because his eyes were both blue. Caleb had heterochromia, which made him a little bit more distinctive.

  He wasn’t the only wolf shifter with eyes of different colors, though.

  “How else would we know what they did with it?” Murray asked. “Letting them use Bones to hide the book was our best way of ensuring that we knew where it was.”

  “You could have just asked us,” Micah said mildly. As was characteristic—and irritating—of vampires, he had slipped into the bar with the silence of a shadow. Mel shivered as the temperature dropped. Rosemary was with him, looking so cool and dispassionate that it was hard to believe it hadn’t been long since Micah had turned her.

&
nbsp; A ripple passed through the company and the vampires were given a lot of room.

  There were only the two of them, at least so far.

  “You wouldn’t have told us,” accused Kara. “Vampires never play for the team.”

  “We’re not on the team,” Micah said, his tone reasonable. “Yet. But with a welcome like this, we might not ever be.”

  “No loss there,” said the wolf shifter to general agreement.

  “And these are the ones left to defend mankind,” Raymond murmured. “If I were alive, I would give serious consideration to taking my chances with Maeve.”

  Although Mel agreed with her ex in this particular matter, she didn’t respond to him. While she was keenly aware of him in his ghostly form, most others—even Others—couldn’t see and hear him. Talking to an invisible man wouldn’t give her decision-making any credibility.

  She could feel the delicate union of Others starting to fracture and knew they’d all be lost if they didn’t stick together. Building consensus at this meeting was crucial.

  She’d wondered before if the werewolves smelled Raymond and wondered again when the one at the bar tipped his head back and narrowed his eyes. His nostrils flared and he looked behind Mel intently, but he didn’t seem to see Raymond.

  She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not.

  “We have to stick together,” she said to the Others who had gathered. “And we need to find more of Maeve’s targets. We need to build this alliance, not destroy it. She has so many advantages, and we need every one we can get.”

  “Let her have the vampires,” the wolf shifter said. “That should keep her quiet for a century or two.”

  “And then what?” Murray challenged. “And then she comes for the werewolves, or the djinns, or the Valkyries. She’s immortal and most of us aren’t.” He nodded to Mel who dropped her gaze. She didn’t really think it had been necessary for Murray to remind them of that. “The mermaids are gone, the unicorns, the elves. She’s taken the centaurs and the elves. It’s just a matter of time before she eliminates all of us. I say we eliminate her.”

  There wasn’t rousing agreement to that sentiment. Instead, the Others exchanged worried glances.

  “But how?” asked a selkie. “She can slip between realms. She can retreat to Fae, and the portals to that realm are closed against all who aren’t of her kind.”

  “She can read our most secret thoughts,” agreed a djinn.

  “Nothing can be hidden from her,” the wolf shifter said grimly and drained his beer.

  “Which was why we had to entrust the book to an ordinary mortal who had no idea what it was,” Micah said. “Someone who can’t even perceive what it is. That’s the only way to keep it safe.”

  The Others exchanged glances. “But how do we find out what’s in it?” asked the medusa who worked as hostess.

  “We borrow it,” Micah said softly. “And we do so without the custodian being aware of our presence or our interference. In this way, the book will remain safe the vast majority of the time.”

  “But?” the wolf shifter invited.

  Micah shrugged. “There will be risks when we endeavor to look at it. The dark queen may be aware of our movements.” He cleared his throat. “I suggest we accept volunteers.”

  “Easy for you to say, when you’re immortal like her,” the wolf shifter snarled.

  “Even an immortal can be killed,” Micah countered. “Is that not right, Kara?”

  The Valkyrie took a deep breath and glared at him. “Don’t put me in your camp, vampire.”

  “But we have that common ground,” he countered. “My kind are immortal, as are yours. Others here, with the exception of Mel and her curse, may be long-lived but are mortal.”

  “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want us exterminated,” Kara said.

  “No, it does not,” Micah agreed softly. “We’re still beasts and brutes in her view, neither pure Fae nor human.”

  There was a ripple of discontent at that.

  “If we work together, we can each contribute our strengths,” Mel said. “We can cooperate to ensure each other’s safety until she’s destroyed.”

  There was a stirring at this notion, then a large bear shifter stepped forward. “How do we know she can be destroyed?”

  “Everyone and everything can be destroyed,” Murray said with conviction. He smiled. “We just have to work out the details.”

  This answer didn’t give much satisfaction. “What we need are all the Others joined together,” Mel said again.

  “I don’t see any dragons,” said the wolf shifter.

  “I’m getting there,” Mel said. “They’re not really social.”

  The bear shifter grunted at that. “We’ll do it without them.”

  “I think they’re important,” Mel insisted but the bear shifter was unconvinced.

  “How are we to know that the vampires can be trusted?” the wolf shifter asked. “They haven’t joined our alliance or sworn to fight with all of us. This could be a trick.” He turned to Micah. “You could be on her side.”

  “And why would we do that?” Micah asked, his voice sharpening a little. “What possible temptation could there be in surrendering to her will?”

  “She might give you perks for betraying us,” the bear shifter said.

  “She would place us in thrall,” Micah whispered. “She would take our freedom. We would be enslaved, trapped in Fae and left to shrivel to nothing. Captivity would destroy us forever.” He fixed the wolf shifter with a look. “Surely we have that in common.”

  The wolf shifter frowned. “You should swear an oath.”

  “In blood?” Micah asked, lifting a brow.

  “Each and every one of you,” the wolf shifter insisted. “We know it’s not your inclination to work together.”

  “That might have been true once, but she has taken most of my kind,” Micah admitted. Mel exchanged a surprised glance with Murray. Vampires were notoriously secretive and solitary but she hadn’t known that. Murray’s brows rose and she knew he hadn’t known either. “All that is left is my coven, the Coven of Mercy.”

  “Coven of mercy?” the bear shifter spat.

  “We agreed to take the ill and the wounded as our prey, or worst case, the wicked,” Rosemary explained, her words clipped and precise. “In the realms of hunter and hunted, the weakest always become prey. We choose to help in culling the herd, rather than taking prime specimens who have a contribution to make to human society. It doesn’t matter to us: we just need the blood to survive. Human illness doesn’t affect us. But it makes a healthier codependency.”

  Micah took her hand. “And we work together, the thirteen of us. I believe that is what saved us, or has saved us so far.”

  “So, you would join our alliance,” Mel said, relieved and surprised. She’d expected more of a fight from the vampires.

  “And you can share the contents of the book with us,” the wolf shifter insisted.

  “You all know what’s in it,” Micah said with a shake of his head. “Every species she considers an abomination is listed, along with the names of every surviving member of that species.”

  “She strikes them off the list,” the bear shifter said gruffly, seizing his beer and taking a gulp.

  “Actually, I would have liked to have a look inside,” Mel said, still annoyed that the vampires had whisked the book away.

  “We don’t need to learn more about the dark queen,” Micah said sternly.

  “We can use the list to find all of the Others,” Mel said. “And bring them into our alliance.”

  Micah sighed. “In my experience, the most successful quests have small teams.”

  “So, you routinely take out dark Fae queens?” the bear shifter asked and there was laughter at the very idea.

  Micah frowned. “I think it’s dangerous to look inside.”

  The wolf shifter scoffed then pushed his glass across the bar, his manner impatient. Mel started to pour him another beer
.

  “But we don’t know where she’ll strike next,” a djinn protested.

  “Of course, we do,” another man said, his voice so low and rich that he had to be a vampire. He stepped out of the shadows behind Micah, and she recognized the Watcher. Sebastian was his name.

  A youthful blonde with a Hello Kitty tote bag was beside him. She could have been his teenage daughter, all dressed in pink and black, but there was a knowing glitter in her eyes that hinted she was much older. More vampires. There was something about their presence that made the hair rise on the back of Mel’s neck. Raymond muttered something unflattering and she sensed that he was hiding behind her. Neither of the new arrivals were as pale as Micah, and they were both more substantial. Mel understood that they had just feasted and was revolted.

  It was probably better not to ask for details

  Sebastian looked around at the Others, confident in his knowledge. “She’ll go after the book first. She needs her ledger. She likes to keep score.”

  “And it’s hidden?”

  “It’s safe,” Micah said with authority.

  Sebastian flicked a look at Micah “Not exactly. The custodian recognized what it is.”

  Mel dropped the glass in her surprise and it shattered on the floor between her feet. Raymond tsk’d behind her and Murray swore, but she couldn’t look away from the conviction in Sebastian’s gaze.

  “How is that possible?” she demanded. “I thought there was a glamor on it.”

  “No one should be able to see the truth of the book,” Micah said, as if he doubted Sebastian’s assertions. “Certainly not a human. That was the whole point of choosing her.”

  “Well, too bad for that plan,” Sebastian said. “There’s more to Sylvia Fontaine than anyone guessed, and she sees through the glamor. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes what it is.”

  “Or before she realizes where it is,” Mel whispered.

  Sebastian nodded, then pandemonium ruled in the bar. “We need a new plan,” he said but Micah shook his head.

  “I’m sure...” the leader of the coven began, but Sebastian strode away, clearly impatient.