by Clara Martin
I stopped at the Unity Shelter driveway. It was deserted. I stepped out of the car, pistol in my hand, and looked around. Something didn’t feel right.
There was no access to the back of the house—it was surrounded by a fence. There was, however, a side door. I walked over to it and looked at the security system. The keypad flashed green. Praying they hadn’t changed the passcode since I’d been there, I entered the number and held my breath. With a click, the door unlocked.
I slipped inside, pistol at the ready. The hallway was dark. A faint sound of crying drifted down the hall. I pressed my back against the wall, pointing my pistol in that direction. Slowly inching down the wall, I advanced.
The crying sounded like it was coming from the office. I crouched when I reached the intersection, pointing my pistol first down one hall, then the other. It was clear. I scuttled across the hall to right outside the office door. I pressed myself to the wall and, with a deep breath, pistol at the ready, I swung around and kicked the door in.
“Freeze,” I snapped. Sarah was sitting in one of the chairs, sobbing. There was no one else there. “Sarah,” I whispered, lowering my pistol, “What’s going on? Where’s Tara?”
“No, don’t!” Sarah screamed, whipping around. “It’s a trap, Eileen! It’s a trap!”
Too late, I heard the door I’d smashed open close deliberately. “You’re going to need a new lock,” a woman’s voice said with amusement.
I turned around, pistol back up. “I’ll take that,” the voice murmured, and the pistol sailed out of my grasp and into her hand.
I took a good long look. The woman was short and stocky, with long black hair and shocking blue eyes. I frowned. “Are you—”
“Fae? No. I’m half-and-half. Daddy kept me on to hunt down slaves. And now,” she pointed at me, “he’s asked me to hunt down you.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, stalling for time.
“Oh, do forgive me.” She gave me a slight bow. “Adaline de Burgh, at your service.” She smiled mockingly. “Though I really do think you might be at mine.”
“You’re from Western Wind.”
“Yes,” she nodded, unsurprised. “You met my sister, Severine. She always did have a soft spot for Charles Talbot. She was punished quite harshly when she returned without you.”
“What do you want with me?” I asked, inching my hand back to my pocket. She noticed.
“Don’t think of trying to call for help,” Adaline said mildly. “You’re quite alone. As for what I want with you—what do you think? That we’d just let someone with a bond to Prince Faolain walk around?” She laughed.
“What did you do with Arianna and the others?” I asked angrily.
“Oh, they’re around,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Sleep spell. Quite useful. And I think our intel about you having no magic is quite correct.” Adaline eyed me curiously. “If you had magic, even the slightest amount, you’d have used it already. We read your personnel evaluations from the military, Eileen. Quite a change in performance over the years.”
“I know I sucked,” I said angrily, thinking desperately. What else could I do?
Chapter 9
“Are you in need of help?” a familiar voice drawled. I turned my head. Eamon stood there, shining gold.
“Don’t speak,” he said quickly. “You haven’t mastered mind-to-mind yet, and we don’t want any indication that you’re talking to me.” He paused. “I anticipated this, but you’ve acted so intelligently up until now. I never thought you’d do something so stupid.” He frowned severely.
“What are you staring at?” Adaline’s voice broke in. She squinted suspiciously at the space I was staring at.
“Nothing,” I said. “Trying to plot my way free.”
Adaline laughed. “You,” she said. “I like you. Just because I do, I won’t take Sarah here back to Northern Sun.” She smiled. “Consider it an even trade.”
“And where are we going?” I asked, stalling for time.
“We, Eileen, are going to Western Wind. You’ll be an honored guest. Until Prince Faolain irritates the Powers That Be too much, and then—” she drew her hand across her throat. I swallowed.
“Where’s Tara?”
“Well. I told Sarah that I had her in the car, ready to go back to Northern Sun—or kill her—if her mother didn’t cooperate.” Adaline’s lips lifted in a dry smile. “In actuality, Tara is asleep. I don’t kill babies.” She pointed the pistol at me. “I do, however, shoot valuable hostages in non-essential parts of their bodies to convince them to move.”
I raised my hands and slowly moved toward her. I calculated the distance between her and me. If I could just get close enough ... but before I got within an arm’s reach, Adaline stopped me.
“There you go,” she said. “I know you throw a good punch. I won’t have you knocking me out.” She laughed and, pistol still pointed at me, circled so she was standing behind me. I sighed. I’d hoped she would turn her back for a second. Slowly, I moved to the door. Sarah still sobbed behind me.
“Sarah,” I called, “it’s okay. Don’t worry.”
She didn’t answer, just sobbed even harder.
“Let’s go.” Adaline prodded my back with the pistol.
Charles would never let me live this down. If I ever got to see him again. Bleakly, I allowed her to push and prod me closer to the door.
“Faster,” Adaline warned, “or I’ll put a bullet in you and carry you out myself.” Sighing, I picked up the pace a little, but still moved deliberately slowly.
There was a shot, and a blaze of heat crossed my thigh. Sarah and I both screamed. I clutched my leg, feeling the blood welling out.
“That was just a graze,” Adaline said, sounding impatient. “But I’m dead serious. There won’t be another warning. Pick up the pace.”
I picked up the pace. There was no one at the front door. I looked around, dismayed that Eamon wasn’t there to help me. Adaline guided me back to my car. “Keys,” she said, holding out her hand. I placed my keys in her hand. Still keeping me at gunpoint, she unlocked the driver’s side and pointed at it. “Get in.”
Obediently, I slid into the front seat. Adaline kept the keys as she walked around to the passenger’s door, opened it, and slid in. She handed me the keys and pointed the gun at me. “Drive.”
“Where?” I asked, pulling out.
“I’ll give you directions.” She leaned back, gun still pointed at me. “Take a right.”
I took the right and glanced at my rearview mirror. I recognized that green car. I glanced sideways at Adaline, wondering if she realized we had a tail.
“Keep driving.”
Apparently not. She hadn’t glanced at the mirrors once. Charles would call her an amateur, I thought. I turned the wheel sharply to the right. The green car followed.
“Wha—” Adaline caught herself. “What are you doing? I told you to keep driving!”
“And I am,” I pointed out. “You never said what direction.” I smirked. “What are you going to do? Shoot the driver? We’ll crash and both die if that happens, and you know it.”
“Turn around.” Adaline waved the pistol threateningly at me.
“No.” I kept driving. I was headed for one spot that I knew very well.
“Turn around!”
I sped up. The car behind me sped up as well, matching my speed. Adaline blanched. I knew she’d caught sight of the green car. She aimed the gun at my head. “I will kill you,” she threatened.
“Good luck driving the car without me!” I laughed. “At this speed, we’ll crash. The passenger’s side doesn’t have an airbag—sorry.”
My destination was in sight—the police station. I fishtailed into the parking lot. Startled officers ran out of the station. Adaline shot the pistol at me. I ducked, and the shot went through the window. The police off
icers surrounded the car, pointing their weapons at it. “Get out of the car!” one shouted.
I raised my hands and pointed at Adaline. “She has a gun pointed at me!” I screamed.
“And I will shoot!” Adaline shouted. The pistol was wobbling as she tried to figure out what to do. “Don’t doubt it!”
“Ma’am.” One officer tried to reason with her. “If you shoot her, we shoot you. Do you really want it to end that way?”
“I’m dead anyway,” Adaline snapped. “The Kingdom of Western Wind doesn’t forgive mistakes.”
“If we arrest you here,” the officer pointed out, “you’re arrested on human territory. You go to a human jail.”
Adaline’s eyes wavered. “I want protection,” she said grimly. “They won’t give up.”
The officer smiled calmly. “I think we can make that work,” he said.
“All right. All right.” Adaline slowly lowered the pistol. “I’m coming out.” She pulled on the handle of the passenger door, levering herself out.
Suddenly, she began to choke. Her hands went to her throat, and her eyes bulged with terror. Saliva dripped from her mouth as she struggled to scream.
“Get a bus!” The officer who’d been talking to her ran to her side. “It’s some kind of poison,” he said distractedly. He pulled a small dart from her neck and rolled her onto her side. Another officer knelt next to him. “Get her inside,” he said distractedly, waving at me. I stepped out of the car, hands still in the air. Two officers grabbed me and hustled me into the station. As we went, I looked over my shoulder; the green car rolled slowly by. The driver lifted his hand in a laconic wave.
“Is there anyone we should call?” one of the officers, a young woman, asked. I shivered. “My phone—it’s still in the car. I need to call my mother—my brother—my boss—” The woman looked down and spotted the blood on my leg. It had stopped bleeding, but there was a blood trail down my pants.
She smiled sympathetically. “It’d be a really bad time to go back out to your car, ma’am. Why don’t you come in here and we can get you something to drink, and something to bandage up your leg. Do you want to go to the hospital?” She led me to a small lounge off to the side. I looked around. A utilitarian blue sofa sat next to a microwave. A circular table with hard-looking chairs occupied the middle of the room.
“No! No hospital,” I said. I looked at the table. “It’s the Knights of the Round Table,” I giggled, pointing.
The officer looked at me with confusion. “Ma’am?”
“Nothing,” I said, still giggling. “I think I’m having a nervous breakdown.” I laughed harder, sitting down on the couch and putting my head in my hands.
“Ma’am, how about some water?” I felt a hand nudge my shoulder and looked up, feeling my eyes fill with tears. The officer was standing there with a bottle, looking concerned. In her other hand she held an ace bandage and gauze. “I think this’ll be wide enough to wrap the bullet graze,” she added. “Though you have to promise me you’ll go to the doctor when your ride gets here.”
“Thanks,” I choked out, grabbing the bottle and downing half of it. “I appreciate it. I promise I will.” I began to wrap my leg with the ace bandage, placing the gauze over the small wound.
“Of course,” she said, sitting down next to me. “My name’s Maria. What’s your name?”
“Eileen,” I said. I drank more of the water and went back to binding my wound. “Eileen O’Donnell.”
“Well, Eileen—may I call you that?” I nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You were very brave back there,” she said, watching my face closely. “Can I ask what happened?”
I took a deep breath and told her part of the story. I told her how I’d saved Sarah and taken her to the Unity Shelter; how I’d gotten a strange call and gone over; how Adaline had been there, waiting. Maria frowned, nodding.
“Why was she there?” she asked. “What did she want?”
I sighed. I didn’t want to tell this part of the story. “I don’t know,” I said awkwardly. “She just threatened me with a pistol and asked me to come. I didn’t ask for the details.”
Maria frowned again, her eyes searching my face. “That’s very strange,” she said slowly. I nodded and shrugged. “I guess, yeah. I mean, she’s fae. Who knows why they do anything?”
Maria looked at me but said nothing. I looked back.
“She doesn’t believe you,” Eamon observed. He appeared at my side, glowing gold. “You’re a terrible liar, my dear.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. “Maria,” I said instead, “I left my medication in my car. Is there any way I can get that? And my phone?”
Maria sighed. “Let me go check on that,” she said. “Wait here.” She got up and left. I heard her footsteps echo down the hall. As soon as they were out of earshot, I swung to Eamon and cursed at him.
“Oh my,” Eamon said, eyeing me speculatively. “Spicy.” He smirked. “Faolain would never have appreciated you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, voice cold. Eamon smiled at me.
“Eileen,” he said, voice soft, “I just want you to consider this. When you had your ... accident ...” he looked at me, head tilted, “your prefrontal cortex was damaged. That happens to the fae, as well. Look up the legend of King Phillip, of Western Wind.” Eamon snapped his fingers. “And with that little bit of wisdom,” he waved his hands dramatically, “I am gone.” He vanished.
I growled in annoyance and leaned back in the chair. I could feel a headache coming on.
“Eileen?” Maria appeared back at the door. “I have your phone and your purse. I hope your medicine is there—I checked around the car and couldn’t find it.” She held both out.
“Yes, thank you,” I said gratefully. I dug around my purse until I found my emergency migraine medication. “I just need this,” I explained. “I’m getting a ferocious migraine.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Maria murmured, her face carefully blank. I swallowed the medicine and took another sip of water. “How long do I need to stay?” I asked. “I’d like to go home. Migraine medication always makes me sleepy.”
“You’re free to go, Eileen,” Maria said, “but unfortunately we have to keep your car. It’s a crime scene.”
I nodded. “I understand. I’ll call my brother.”
Fortunately, Nate picked up on the first ring. “Eileen,” he said, sounding genuinely frightened, “Where are you? What’s going on?”
Wearily, I rubbed at my forehead. “Nate, can you come pick me up from the police station? I’m at the one in Woodbridge.”
“The police station,” he repeated, sounding stunned. “Sure. Are you under arrest or something? Do you need a lawyer?
“No, no,” I said hastily, “nothing like that.” I snuck a glance at Maria, who was still studying me. “I just—need a ride home. I’ll explain when you get here.”
“All right,” he said slowly, “no problem. I’m getting in my car now.” He hung up. I lowered my phone and sighed. “Do you mind if I take a nap?” I asked Maria. “I’ll just stretch out here on the sofa.
“Absolutely,” Maria said, her face breaking out into a smile. “I’ll wake you up when your brother gets here.
I laid on the sofa and resolutely shut my eyes. The migraine medication usually sent me to sleep; I could feel it tugging at the corners of my eyes, tempting me to descend. There was nothing I wanted to do more. But I couldn’t stop thinking of Charles. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he all right?
I must’ve fallen asleep, because I dreamed the most vivid dream. I was standing in a forest clearing, next to Charles. Charles was lying on his stomach, with binoculars trained on something far away. An orb of blue fire surrounded him. I blinked, and then knelt.
“Charles?” I asked tentatively. He didn’t look up. “Charles!” With t
hat, he lowered his binoculars, frowning.
“What—”
“Charles!” I put my hand on the blue fire orb, and immediately felt a sharp shock of pain. I looked down and saw my flesh redden.
I sat up on the sofa, breathing heavily, feeling disoriented. My hand still hurt. I curled my fingers around it automatically, and then frowned. I opened my hand and looked at it. The flesh was reddened, as though it’d been burned.
“Eileen?” Maria walked in and caught me staring at my hand. She walked over, frowning. “What a terrible burn! Did that happen when you were in the car?”
“It must have,” I whispered, closing my fingers over it again. “Everything is so blurry.”
“Of course,” Maria said sympathetically. “I just wanted to let you know—your brother is here.”
“Oh! Nate’s here?” I frowned. “That was really fast.”
She smiled gently. “You’ve been asleep for almost an hour, Eileen.”
I blinked. “The medicine really puts me out,” I said with an uneasy laugh. “Thank you for letting me know, Maria. I truly appreciate it.”
“Absolutely.” Maria hesitated. “Just one last thing,” she said quietly. “If you ever decide to tell the truth about why that fae was after you—just know that I’m willing to listen to you.”
I stared, slightly stunned. “Thank you,” I whispered, “but I really can’t tell any more than I already have.”
“I understand,” Maria said, putting her hand on my arm. I twitched. She noticed and released my arm. “Here, let me give you my card.” She pulled out her wallet and produced a business card. “Officer Maria Sanchez,” it read. Nothing else was on the card except for a phone number.
“Thank you,” I repeated, staring at the card. It seemed odd that it wouldn’t have a department on it.
“Not a problem at all,” Maria said. “Why don’t I walk you out to your brother?”
Nate was sitting at a police officer’s desk. The building was almost empty—it looked like the entire force had adjourned outside to examine my car. I shuddered at the thought of the insurance premium I was sure to be charged. For a moment, I wondered how you would report “pistol shots from crazed fae assassin” and then dismissed it from my mind.
