by LJ Rivers
“Why is she here?” he hissed, staring at Jen.
“Backup.” Jen crossed her arms.
Great start, I thought, sighing audibly. “You can trust her.” The question was, could we trust him?
“I hope you’re right. I guess, after everything, it might be good that she’s come.”
Whatever game he was playing at, I sure as eggs wasn’t going to play this one. “Cut to the chase, all right. I’m cold, and this park gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
His face softened weirdly as he moved his hand and the light flickered across his face. “I apologise for the inconvenience, ladies. This is the best blind spot I could find. No one can know that I’m here. There are cameras everywhere, and I don’t know how many bugs and wires there might be at my house, or anywhere else I usually go.”
All right, he had my attention. “Well, go on then,” I said, my voice lowered.
“I think we better start with this.” He dug out something from one of the many pockets in what looked like trousers designed for hiking, then handed me a picture.
Jen bumped my shoulder. “That’s you!”
It was me. At a quick glance, the picture itself was nothing special, though looking closely, it was one that I thought was destroyed. It showed me, standing in my running gear by the lake. A misty fog spread out above the water, and I remembered that moment vividly. It was one of the times when I had been visited by the shadow, of whom I had yet to learn the real identity of. All I knew was that he had helped me on several occasions, most recently by warning me about the Harvester in the very same park we were standing in.
But the image of the strange mist wasn’t what made my bones cold. In the photo, I was holding a spark of fire in my hand. The last time I had seen this picture was in the janitor’s home before rescuing Jen. I thought I’d got all the pictures of us out of there, and I had burned them all in my room. Apparently, I had missed one. A very revealing one at that.
Stupid girl!
I stuffed the picture in my pocket.
Paddock nodded at me. “So you see, I know what you are.”
If he judged me on account of holding fire in my hand, he might think I was a Sorceress, but I didn’t want to correct him. Not yet, at least.
“And what? You want money? You’ve got the wrong girl.” I studied him as the cold of my skin was slowly replaced by the fire growing in my veins. “You want to turn me over to a Harvester instead, perhaps?”
He shook his head. “Nothing like that. I’ve had this picture for weeks, and I haven’t told a soul. All I want is your help.”
Jen clasped her hand with mine, killing the small flame that had gathered in my palm without me even realising it. “Very well,” she said. “You tell us what you need help with, and we’ll decide what to make of it. But I warn you, this girl is packing some serious powers, and I’m not some obedient lapdog either.”
Paddock looked from Jen and back to me, his eyes practically glowing as he turned the flashlight upwards. “You’re both Mags?” He goggled at me. “Powers, as in plural?”
I shrugged.
Paddock shook himself, then lowered the flashlight again, leaving the three of us in the dim reflection of the beam. “Here’s the gist of it. My partner was killed in September, about two weeks before the case we worked on your campus. It was apparently this kid who done it. They got in a fight when the kid supposedly tried to run, and the kid managed to stab my partner, Warren.
“As it turns out, the kid was found dead a bit later, drifting face down in the Thames. That means there’s no one but another officer to verify the story of how Warren was killed. And this copper’s not exactly a reliable kind of guy.
“So, before this, Warren was investigating our station on his own time. I had no idea until I found his notes. He left me a letter I was to open upon his death, which told me where to find everything. Guess he knew he was treading on dangerous ground. The rest of his stuff had clearly been searched, and most of his other files were confiscated.”
Paddock took a deep breath before diving back into his story. “I didn’t really think much of it, but it seemed important enough to keep hidden, so I took the files and a couple of other things from the compartment, then so much happened I almost forgot about it. A week after his death, I was assigned a new partner. You’ll remember Fernsby? He’s no longer my partner, though. Then there were the abductions and murders on your campus.
“Anyway, there’s been some strange reports and shootouts lately, but anyone asking questions is more or less muzzled.”
Jen held one hand up. “I’m sorry. I don’t quite follow.”
“I think I’m following. Kind of,” I said. “Brendan and I were just talking about the rising crime rates the other night. Something is definitely up, and the MagX is most likely a big part of it.”
Paddock’s eyes shifted. He looked nothing like the man who had first come to interrogate me. If anything, he looked scared.
I gave him a slight smile for encouragement. “Go on.”
“So,” he muttered. “This is going to sound really weird, but Warren was a Mag—a Shifter.”
“A wolf?” Jen asked, suddenly more agitated.
“Eh, no. He shifted into an eagle.”
“Awesome.”
“I suppose. I don’t know. He was my partner and a good friend. As I said, though, I had almost forgotten about his stuff until a couple of days ago. Fernsby killed a girl, for no apparent reason. He said she attacked him, but the girl was tiny, and her records show no signs of aggression. Or they didn’t when I first looked at them, but looks like someone has changed them. The entire situation is peculiar, to say the least. She was a skater, and her shirt had a specific emblem on it, depicting a sword, which reminded me of something.” Paddock dug into his pockets again, then presented a plastic bag. “It’s a bandana. What made me think of it was that the emblem was the same as the girl wore.”
Jen waved her hand at the bag. “Give it.”
Paddock didn’t move.
“You should give it to her,” I said.
He stared at me for a moment before he gave the bag to Jen. She opened the Ziplock and held it up to her nose. A couple of sniffs later, she screwed her head up, closed the bag and handed it to Paddock.
“Goblin,” she announced.
“A what now?” Paddock asked.
“That thing belonged to a Goblin. I’m absolutely positive.”
As far as I knew, there were a few Goblins still in existence. Mum even worked with a couple of them. There were probably other races out there who were still hiding as well, though the Goblins had managed to stay well under the radar when the rest of the Magicals were outed. Perhaps their time of hiding was coming to an end, too? Their powers weren’t especially active, so I wasn’t sure what use their blood would be if someone made MagX from it. It probably wouldn’t sell much once the Harvesters’ customers learned about the limitations of Goblin blood.
Paddock dipped his head. “Thank you. I suspected it came from a Mag. What I have learned so far has led me to believe that there are those in my department, if not in the entire force, who are working to hand over Mags to Harvesters—most likely for a hefty wad of cash—or worse, to downright execute them. I look over my shoulder every day, as if I’ve come too close to the truth or something. What I do know, is that this isn’t what I signed up for.”
“Have you told your boss about your suspicions?” I asked, not quite able to wrap my head around what he was saying.
“Can’t trust anyone. That’s why I contacted you. I know you had more to do with helping to solve the case of the missing girls than you’ve let on, and I don’t know any other Mags. I figured you might have resources I don’t. Besides, I don’t think you’ll talk about this, as it could expose yourself.”
This was insane. How were we supposed to help with this? Still, if the police were targeting Mags, we were all hip-deep in trouble. And, he was right about trusting me to be quiet about my Fae
persuasion.
“We’ll help whichever way we can,” I said, to my own surprise.
“Damned right we will,” Jen chimed in.
“Not sure how we can help, though, but if you can get us everything you have from Warren’s files, I’ll see if I can dig up something. And I promise to be discreet about it.”
“Right now, I don’t have a choice but to trust you,” he replied. “I don’t think I have to tell you how much trouble you’ll be in if you misuse that trust.”
“You don’t,” I said. “And I—we won’t.”
Sticking his hand down yet another pocket, he proceeded to hand me a small flip phone. “Non-traceable,” he murmured. “I’ll make contact soon.”
The large officer walked away into the thicket on the opposite side of where we had entered, looking like he carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He probably felt like it, too, if he was working against his own colleagues. A small beam of light shone a distance away before Jen and I started the walk back to campus.
My mind was turning. If we couldn’t trust the police to be on our side, then what?
Five
My alarm was not aware of my desire to sleep in and churned out the far too happy tune I still hadn’t changed. I grabbed my phone and started browsing through the various alarm signals, eventually settling on one that I thought wouldn’t annoy me quite as much.
6.35. I had a lecture at 9.15 and was in no hurry. I couldn’t sleep, though, so I got up and had a quick shower. Standing in the living room, with the other girls fast asleep, I noticed how big the flat felt—especially since Duncan wasn’t here either. Maybe I should raise the issue of getting a couple more tenants. My problem with that, however, was that I didn’t want anyone else living here. With Jen and Charlie—and Duncan, I guess—I felt safe. They all knew what I was, and I had no reason to hide it around them. If two strangers moved in, I would have to go through the whole process all over again, with no guarantees I would get the same approval from anyone new.
In the fridge, I found my usual yoghurt and went to the cupboard to get my muesli. I stopped. Not today, I thought, and decided to surprise the girls with a proper breakfast instead. Charlie usually had a bowl of cereal while Jen—well, it depended on whether she had slept in her bed the night before, or if she had been out hunting. Gross.
Popping the yoghurt back in the fridge, I grabbed the egg carton—happy to find there were still four left. Jen’s old but still usable bacon strips lay in a plastic wrapping, and wouldn’t you know—there was that black pudding Charlie had planned to have for dinner.
Half an hour or so later, I knocked on Jen’s door. “Jeannine?” I whispered.
It never ceased to amaze me how she could be aeons away in a dream one second, only to look eager and awake the very next. Her icy blue eyes sparkled with joy and curiosity from under her duvet. I had to bite my lip to keep the laughter inside.
“What’s up, honey?” she said as she stretched her arms and inched her head up onto the pillow.
“You know, if you had a tail, you’d wag it now,” I replied, losing the fight against the giggle.
“Like this?” She pulled her silk shorts down half an inch and turned her back to me. From her lower back, a white, furry tail protruded and shook vigorously from side to side. The next second, it retracted into her skin, vanishing before my eyes.
“Jen!” I gasped. “That’s—that’s—”
“Cute? Sexy? Hot?”
“Yeah, sure. Those were the words I was looking for.” I rolled my eyes. “Breakfast is ready, freak!”
“Really?” She sniffed the air. “Eggs, bacon, beans, and what, black pudding?”
“As I said, freak.”
She laughed. “I’ll be there in two.”
I went to wake Charlie. When I knocked on her door, however, there was no reply. I knocked again. Then a little harder.
“Charlie? You hungry?”
“Humph?”
“I’ve made breakfast.”
“No, thanks.”
I opened the door and inserted my head. “Eggs on toast, bacon—the works. Come on, Char, we’ve got lots to tell you.”
“Humph.”
“Please?”
“Fine,” she muttered.
I closed the door and went back to the kitchen. Although I hadn’t exactly jumped into my alter ego of the French chef, the result was way more than our usual spread of cereal and yoghurt. The slices of black pudding were a tad overcooked, but I was quite pleased with the eggs. Sunnyside up and all.
Jen had already grabbed a piece of toast and poured maple syrup over it.
“Slept home all night?” I asked.
“Yup. Is there more bacon?”
“Nope. We need to go shopping. We’re out of bread and eggs, too. And I kinda snagged Charlie’s black pudding.”
“This is awesome, Red,” she said between two mouthfuls. “I was famished.” She stabbed a slice of the pudding and devoured it, smiling and winking at me. “You’re hired!”
“I can’t promise this every morning, I’m afraid. Didn’t feel like running today, is all.”
She nodded slowly. “I hear you.”
Behind her, Charlie shuffled towards us, still in her PJs and her unicorn slippers. The contrast between her and Jen’s mood was obvious. She yawned and sat down.
“Coffee?” I suggested.
“Sure.” Charlie’s voice was clipped.
I tried to meet her eyes, but failed, so I poured instead. “Milk?”
“Black.” She grabbed the mug with both hands.
Not wanting to bug her too much this early, I left her alone. Jen, however, had no plans to let this pass.
“Come on, Charlie. Look at the feast Ru has prepared for us. It’s great, no? She even lit the candles.”
Charlie shrugged and grabbed a slice of toast from the wicker basket.
“Want some jam? Bacon?” I tried to sound cheerful, but by now irritation had crept into my voice.
Charlie reached across the table to get the jar of jam that stood right in front of me. She spread two tablespoons’ worth of strawberry on her toast and took a bite. Not a word.
“Really? Nothing?” Jen had clearly had enough. “You don’t think it’s a bit—?”
“I think it was bad form to leave me behind yesterday, that’s what I think.” Charlie slammed the toast down onto the plate and stood to leave. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “And yes, thanks for breakfast. I’m just not hungry.”
“Sit down, please?” My voice trembled.
She hesitated. “I’ll have some later. Thanks again.” She went back to her room.
I looked at Jen, who was fuming. I put my hand on her shoulder. “Don’t. I’ll talk to her once she’s simmered down.”
Jen drew a long, hard breath. “Fine. But don’t let her off the hook, ok?”
I smiled and nodded.
“I think I’ll go for a walk after all,” Jen said. “Thank you so much for breakfast. It was perfect.”
She hugged me and kissed both my cheeks before dancing back to her room.
Although I was anxious to straighten things with Charlie, another thought had crept into my head. I finished my toast and emptied my glass of orange juice. I made a mental note of adding real oranges to the shopping list, instead of the concentrated version. Rather than clearing the table—Charlie could do that when, or if, she ate more later—I went to get my phone from the nightstand. A quick search on the Uni app provided me with Professor Kaine’s number.
Professor, would it be ok if I visited you at your office or lab later? I have a couple of questions. Ruby Morgan.
I wasn’t sure if he had stored my number, but it felt awkward signing the text message anyway.
His reply came after only a minute. I wasn’t surprised, he had been up early on Saturday, too.
Of course. I am in my office until noon, then lunch and then at my lab from about 1.30. When can I expect you?
&nb
sp; Crap! I had a lecture at 2.15 in the afternoon. I wanted to see him in his lab. For a second, I considered skipping the lecture but thought better of it. If I began skipping class every time I thought I had better things to do, I’d never graduate.
11.30 ok? I won’t keep you long.
Excellent, I look forward to it.
“Later, sweetie,” chirped Jen as she left. She looked like a million quid, her hair and makeup done to professional levels in what, ten minutes? Of course, it helped that she was totally supermodel gorgeous to begin with.
“See ya,” I replied, looking back at my phone. I sent a text to Brendan, hoping he was in a better mood than yesterday. I had cancelled our date, yet I was the one feeling brushed off. It bugged me that I was nervous about his reply. “Get a grip, silly!” I whispered and sent the text.
Good morning! Hope you’ve slept well. Give me a ring if you want to hook up, ok?
I switched the sound off, even though Charlie probably wouldn’t hear the chime when Brendan replied. Or if she did, she would more likely ignore it, sulking about last night. If only I could make her understand it was for her own good.
I glanced at her door, wanting to go talk to her. But no, she needed more time to cool off. And maybe, so did I.
Instead, I grabbed one of the wax candles, went back to my room and closed the door carefully. For a second, I contemplated turning the lock but decided to not take the chance on Charlie hearing the click. I put the candle on my desk, dropped to the floor and stretched my arm under the bed to pull out my suitcase. Small pockets lined the inside, and in one of them I found the thing Mum had said she was sure I would need at some point. Well, I did, but not at all for the purpose she thought.
I turned on the desk lamp and sat by the desk. The little plastic box was about the size of a credit card. In fact, as I now examined it for the first time, it even said so on the lid: “Credit card sized sewing kit for travellers.”
