Corruption

by Jennifer Blackstream

  I didn’t have time for a spell. I scarcely had enough time to shout.

  A bolt of lightning lit the sky in a streak of silver so bright it burned itself into my memory. It struck Siobhan, and the kelpie froze. Smoke rose from her clothing and she fell back, disappearing beneath the water’s surface.

  The black cat had leapt out of the water in time to avoid being fried, and now it stood on the beach, staring at Majesty.

  The kitten sat on the sand, tiny body heaving. The rain had turned the fluffy kitten into a drown rat. It raised one leg and shook off the water, then repeated the gesture with its other three legs.

  “Did… Did the kitten call lightning?” Flint asked.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” I said, my breathing more ragged now. “We need to help Andy and Laurie.”

  “They’ll be fine.” Flint turned toward Marilyn’s and resumed his unforgiving pace, carrying me farther and farther from my fallen comrades. “You have caused me enough trouble tonight, and I did not pay five million dollars for you to watch you get yourself killed one month into the year you owe me. We are getting out of here and getting your leg looked at—now.”

  “I’m not leaving them.” I fought to twist out of Flint’s grasp. “I— Ahh!”

  Flint pressed his thumb deeper into my skin, the tip disappearing inside the wound. The pain stole my breath, leaving me without the air to scream at him.

  “You are coming home with me,” Flint said, his voice low and tight. “We need to talk.”

  I focused on getting my breath back, ignoring the stomach-turning feeling of his thumb still digging into the wound, the sucking sensation when he shifted. “I gave my word I would save him tonight,” I said hoarsely. “I gave my word.”

  “And you did. You got him away from the kelpies, you stabilized him. It is up to him to do the rest.”

  “Flint, take me back there right now.” A violent shiver ran through me, enough I almost set Flint off balance.

  “What will you do, bleed on him?” Flint demanded. He glanced over his shoulder. “See for yourself. He will be fine.”

  I looked over his shoulder, our position on the rocky stairs giving me a view of the entire scene. Laurie lay on the beach, and Andy bent over her, giving her mouth to mouth. My pulse pounded in my ears as I stared at her chest, squinting to see if it rose and fell. Andy reared back, and Laurie rose, coughing, but alive.

  The black cat padded to Andy’s side. A pink light twinkled in the air between them and I wilted with relief. Peasblossom. After a moment’s hesitation, Andy slid a leg over the cat’s body, helping Laurie to sit in front of him. Majesty hopped onto the fairy beast’s head, and the large feline swung away from the lake, heading for the slope. Following me.

  Peasblossom would make sure Andy was all right. I could rest.

  I laid my head against Flint’s chest. I’d started to doze off—or pass out—when something up ahead caught my eye. A strix, her black wings towering over her, silver eyes alight, and sword in hand. Flint came to a halt before her, and I had a sudden sense of deja vu.

  “Oksana,” I mumbled. “What is the Vanguard doing here?”

  Oksana stepped forward, her face grim. “Shade Renard, you are under arrest for murder.”

  Chapter 17

  There’s something about being stared at by a strix that makes you want to run. Maybe it’s their vampire-like gift for holding completely and utterly still. Or that odd head-tilt they do that makes it seem as if they’re deciding which piece of you to eat first. The huge black wings towering over them made them look bigger and more imposing, so maybe that was it.

  Or maybe I was nervous because if I couldn’t convince MacTyre that I was innocent, Oksana would chase me down and eat me.

  That was probably it.

  “Let’s go over it again one more time.” MacTyre picked up his pen, holding it poised over the legal pad where he’d already written down my statement. Black gloves lay next to the notepad, the coup de grace that would finish the Vanguard’s most elite member’s black outfit. His dark trousers made no sound as he shifted in his seat, ready to take down my story.

  Again.

  The small table where I sat opposite him and Oksana was lit by a single lamp hanging above us. Outside of that glowing circle, the interrogation room was dark. The lighting was purposeful, made to make me feel as if nothing existed outside this circle of meager light. It would have succeeded if I weren’t so preoccupied with the fact I’d left Andy bleeding and half-dead on a beach.

  “I’ve given you my statement,” I said calmly. Five times. “I’d like to see my partner now. Please.”

  “Agent Bradford is being cared for by our best healers,” MacTyre said, his voice empty of any emotion. “Right now, our priority is to document the facts of the murder that occurred earlier today in your hotel room.”

  My eye twitched. “I awoke in a hotel room, strapped to a chair inside a salt circle. I became aware that I’d been drugged and kidnapped by the bounty hunter I knew as Paul, or the Tasmanian Tiger.”

  “He wanted her to call him T.T., but she said no,” Peasblossom added.

  I pressed my lips into a tight line as MacTyre made a note in the margins about the nickname. Now was not the time to add details to our story. That might lead to yet another five retellings as MacTyre sought to determine what facts I was making up on the fly, and which ones were true. At this rate, I would never get to see Andy.

  “He told me he was auctioning me off on Ebay. Lorelei was with him as a willing accomplice.”

  “Lorelei being the demon half of the demon-bound,” MacTyre asserted—for the sixth time. “The other half being the paladin, Laurie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go on.”

  I folded my hands, trying not to fidget. “He was rambling on, in between sexual activity with Lorelei, when I realized that despite his act of treating Lorelei as an accomplice, he was in fact planning to kill her.”

  MacTyre made another note and I wondered if it was about the sexual activities. If he asked me for details, I would scream. “You deduced this based on the fact the paladin, Laurie, had not taken possession of the body despite circumstances that should have brought about the change in consciousness.”

  “There’s also the fact that not long after I regained consciousness, Paul poisoned Lorelei with a hypodermic needle—something strong enough to knock her unconscious,” I pointed out. “Laurie should have woken then too, but she didn’t.”

  “Because of the poison Paul gave her earlier this afternoon.”

  “Yes.” I gripped the edge of the table. “Can’t you tell me if she’s all right? Did you ask the Ministry of Deliverance to look at her? Kylie was afraid the antidote might be too late.”

  MacTyre didn’t look up from the legal pad. “Laurie is being tended to. Our job is to get your story straight.”

  “It’s been two hours,” I said, a note of tension tightening my voice despite my best intentions to stay composed. “I’ve told you what happened at least five times.”

  “And if you had remained at the scene of the murder to give your statement as the law requires, then we would be finished by now.” MacTyre’s dark eyes rose to mine. “But you didn’t. You fled the scene.”

  I growled in frustration, unable to help it. “I told you—”

  “And you took the murderer with you,” MacTyre added.

  “As I said—” I started.

  “All of this despite Ms. Rose’s warning you should remain at the scene, that there would be consequences if you left without giving your statement.”

  I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I wasn’t angry with Kylie, she’d had no choice but to give a full account to MacTyre. But this bureaucratic falderal was why I’d absconded in the first place. Oksana leaned forward, catching my peripheral vision. Some instinct deep inside me screamed a warning. Don’t overreact. Stay calm. Don’t give the predator a reason to view you as a threat.

  I had a semi-hyster
ical thought about whether Oksana had eaten. And when. And if she was still hungry.

  “My partner was in mortal danger.” I pressed my hands flat against the tabletop. “My number one concern was getting to him before it was too late. You were there last month, you saw what happened.”

  “You refer to the kelpies.”

  “Yes.”

  MacTyre tapped the folder beside him. “They’ve filed a complaint.”

  I slumped in my chair. “Of course they did.”

  “They claim they were attempting to save Agent Bradford’s life.”

  “That’s not true,” I insisted. “Paul said as much at the hotel. He said he’d made a deal with the kelpies, that if they helped get the word out about the Ebay auction, he’d shoot Andy and leave him for them.” I reached out and jabbed a finger down on his precious notepad. “I already told you that.”

  Oksana sat straighter. I scooted back in my seat.

  MacTyre glanced from me to his notepad. “He was out of sorts and assumed they meant him harm, based on his last and only encounter with their kin.” He met my eyes. “According to the kelpies, when you showed up and demanded he leave with you, they obliged. They claim your paladin attacked them with no provocation, forcing them to defend themselves.”

  “But they did mean him harm. You should have seen the state he was in when I found him.”

  “The way they’ve explained it, his condition was his own fault. He refused any help from them, any first aid.”

  “A reasonable fear given how many fey consider help given as a favor owed,” I insisted. “And that’s not even considering how they may have behaved around him, what impression they may have given him regarding what sort of help he might expect to receive.”

  “You’re suggesting they behaved in a threatening manner to make him assume the help they offered would be less than…helpful?” MacTyre asked. “That they manipulated him into refusing help?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me. Siobhan is the sister of the kelpie Andy shot last month. She doesn’t want him dead, she wants him to suffer.”

  “Yes, I remember.” MacTyre pulled yet another folder from his stack and flipped through it. “Siobhan filed a petition to demand a weregild from Agent Bradford two weeks ago.”

  My heart nearly stopped. “What?”

  “It was rejected,” Oksana assured me.

  I shoved that thought away to worry about later. “Listen, the bottom line is Lorelei shot Paul in self-defense. He intended to kill her, something you can prove with a blood test.”

  “Already done,” MacTyre said, tapping another folder.

  I resisted the urge to grab all of his precious folders and tear them into confetti. “You’ve had the blood test all this time? And you’ve kept questioning me anyway? Refused to tell me if she’s all right?”

  MacTyre’s face darkened. “Refrain from dictating how I should my job. You are in a precarious position, Mother Renard.”

  “You have the blood test that proves it was self defense.” I didn’t realize how loud I was getting until Peasblossom touched the back of my neck. Never a good sign when the pixie was the one telling me to calm down.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, struggling to rein in my temper. I folded my shaking hands. “It’s been a trying day, and I’m worried about my partner.” I took a deep breath and met MacTyre’s eyes. “If I might make one request?”

  “I will take you to meet your partner when we’re finished.”

  “It’s not that,” I swallowed the angry words that wanted to follow that sentence. “You’re known for your efficiency and attention to detail. I can’t help but wonder if there’s another reason you’re insisting we go over this simple case of self-defense so many times.”

  MacTyre shrugged off the praise. “You are investigating a double homicide. A double homicide you believe Lorelei had something to do with. And yet even after she killed another man right in front of you, you still allowed her to escape with you. You broke the rules to let her out of that room, leaving her victim behind.” He leaned forward. “How can you be so certain it was self-defense when you’re considering her for three other murders?”

  “Two murders,” I corrected him. “Corban and Christophe were murdered by a human named Patrick. When we confronted Patrick, he shot himself.”

  “I have Patrick’s personal effects collected by Kylie when she retrieved his body. The pictures suggest a relationship between him and the demon. Do you believe she played a part in convincing him to shoot Corban and Christophe? And then, knowing his precarious mental state, pushed Patrick into killing himself before he revealed her participation?”

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I was upset when Patrick shot himself,” I admitted. “And I was angry because Lorelei was cruel to him when it was obvious he wasn’t in a good way. I blamed her for his suicide, but it was based on emotion, not facts.”

  “I’ve reviewed your case. The exorcism was secret. Not even the Ministry of Deliverance knew about it, and you expect me to believe this unstable human figured it out?”

  I stared at him, dropping my hand from my face. “What do you mean the ministry didn’t know?”

  MacTyre studied me. “The Ministry of Deliverance has no record of Corban and Christophe registering an exorcism. It is my understanding they acted on their own.”

  “The exorcism wasn’t sanctioned?”

  “No.”

  I sat forward. All exorcisms had to be sanctioned except in emergencies that didn’t allow for the delay. It was a matter of alerting the ministry to a risk of demon problems if the exorcism failed, and it allowed them to monitor the surrounding area to make certain the demon didn’t relocate. “I’d like to speak to one of their representatives. Please,” I added.

  MacTyre tilted his head. “Why?”

  “Something Paul told me. I want to confirm it with someone more reliable. You can be here, that’s fine.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at that, as if he’d never considered leaving to begin with. Then he glanced at Oksana. “Ask Evelyn to come in?”

  Oksana nodded and left. She returned less that five minutes later with a beautiful woman with cerulean blue skin dressed in white robes. She was bald, and the hood of the robe was pushed down to reveal the gold tattoos on her scalp. Her eyes had no irises, only black orbs. She sat at the table next to MacTyre, and Oksana stood on his other side.

  “I am Evelyn, a paladin with the Ministry of Deliverance,” she said, her voice soothing and deep. “How can I help you, Mother Renard?”

  “The bounty hunter told me that the ministry didn’t want Corban and Christophe to go through with Laurie’s exorcism,” I said. “Is that true?”

  MacTyre looked at Evelyn, as if he were interested in her answer.

  Evelyn inclined her head. “It is the position of the ministry that all God’s creatures deserve to be free of evil influence. Anyone possessed by another entity may come to us for help.”

  “She didn’t answer the question,” Peasblossom hissed.

  Evelyn blinked, then stared harder at my neck.

  “That would be my familiar, Peasblossom,” I said tiredly.

  She blinked again. “I see.” She cleared her throat. “The ministry would never—”

  “Evelyn, this will go more smoothly if we lay our cards on the table,” I interrupted. “Corban and Christophe showed up for an exorcism that wasn’t sanctioned by the ministry. Did they keep it a secret because they didn’t need the sanction, or did they do it because the ministry wouldn’t sanction it?”

  Evelyn sighed. “You must understand that Laurie’s is a rare case. This is not a modern day possession by some tenth level demon. This is an ancient. And the possessed is not merely a human, but a paladin. It has never happened before.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “I spoke to a shaman earlier. He assumed the exorcism hadn’t gone ahead before now because something had changed recently. But that’s not true, is it? It was always possible.”

&nbs
p; “Not always,” Evelyn corrected me. “For decades we tried to exorcise Lorelei from Laurie.”

  “Decades?” I echoed. “She’s been demon-bound for a thousand years.”

  “You are too young to remember the ancients,” Evelyn snapped. “You don’t remember what it was like. The cults, the plagues… They destroyed cities, drove genocides. Laurie offered us a chance to stop one of them permanently.”

  “So you sacrificed her,” I said quietly. “Let her remain demon-bound when you could have saved her.”

  “I do not have to justify our actions to you,” Evelyn said stiffly. “It was for the greater good.”

  “If you’ll forgive me for saying so, I’ve found in my experience that whenever someone uses the words ‘for the greater good,’ they are often trying to justify something they feel in their heart was wrong.”

  Evelyn pressed her hands flat to the table. Anger tightened her jaw, but she refused to meet my eyes. “If that is all?” She stood and faced MacTyre. “Our healers were successful. Laurie is resting now, but she’ll make a full recovery.” She looked at me. “I’ve spoken to her, and she’s decided not to seek an exorcism in the future.”

  “How nice for you,” I said.

  Evenly turned on her heel and left. She didn’t slam the door behind her, but it was a close thing. Silence fell over the room. I stared down at my hands, turning over Evelyn’s confession. Poor Laurie. She’d trusted the ministry, trusted they had her best interest at heart. And they’d used her.

  “And what purpose did that serve?” MacTyre asked.

  I was still turning the information over, considering the implications, but I spoke out loud for the magistrate’s benefit. “Only six people knew the details of the exorcism.”

  MacTyre nodded. “Corban, Christophe, Laurie, Lorelei—”

  “Father Salvatore and Thomas,” I finished. “All this time I’ve been wondering if Lorelei balked at going through with the exorcism, if Paul was right and she realized her kind might mock her for being trapped for so long.”