Chapter 17
I whirled around. “Get your hand off me, Andrews.”
He didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward and whispered through his gritted teeth.“You broke into the governor’s office? Do you realize how stupid that was?”
“What are you going to do, arrest me? You’re not even a real cop, are you, Deceptive Andrews?”
He jerked back as if stunned. Then his hand fell from my shoulder, and he released a deep breath around his frown. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”
I stepped back. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know who the hell you are.”
“You really want to have this conversation here”—his hand jerked, pointing at our very public location—“on the statehouse steps?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah. Maybe I do. So you’re working for my father? What did he hire you for?”
Falin glared at me, the muscles along his jaw bunching.
Then he turned. His long legs took the stairs two at a time as he stormed away.
“Hey! Hey, I’m talking to you,” I yelled at his retreating back.
He didn’t stop.
Great. Now I had to either chase after him or let him go.
I was too pissed to let him leave.
I ran after him.
Protesters had rallied around the bottom of the stairs. They held aloft signs that proclaimed WITCHCRAFT IS THE WORK OF DAEMONS and COLEMAN MURDERED BY FAE! WHO WILL STOP THEM NOW?
Someone in the crowd recognized me.
“Leave our dead alone,” she yelled, and someone else took up the cry. Soon they were chanting.
They surged forward, and I found myself swallowed by the yelling crowd. I ran, keeping my head down. A hand wrapped around my arm, jerked me back. The red face of an unfamiliar man filled the space in front of me.
“Police. Get your hands off her.” Falin.
The protester growled at me, a savage sound that wasn’t the least bit human, but he let go. Falin’s arm slid around my shoulder. He steered me clear of the crowd and around the side of the building. I shrugged away from him as soon as we reached the parking garage.
He let me go and tucked his thumbs in his belt. “I’m not working for Caine.”
“Oh, yeah, then what was that about?” I pointed back at the statehouse, but I was still breathless from my brush with the protesters, so my words carried a lot less sting than they would have on the stairs.
Falin frowned at me. “Caine signed off on the paperwork to put me in the department as lead investigator in Coleman’s death. I’m FIB, Alex.”
Fae Investigation Bureau? “And why should I believe that? The FIB have the authority to walk in and take over any case involving fae. John’s bitched about it before.”
He pointed back the way we’d just come. “You saw those protesters, Alex. Those people are scared. The governor was assassinated. What would have happened if it had become common knowledge the FIB had taken over the case? There are still people who remember the Magical Awakening. There are people who survived or lost friends in the riots afterward. Nekros has one of the largest fae and witch populations in the country, yet we haven’t had an openly fae or witch governor in decades, and the Humans First Party are currently holding most of the important seats in the government.”
And the Humans First Party probably had gained hundreds of supporters since the video of me declaring Coleman’s body to be spelled hit the Internet. His supposed assassination was probably one of the best things to happen for his party. But … “But you aren’t looking for the killer?”
Falin shook his head.
“Then the FIB knew what Coleman was—is?”
He just studied my face.
A white van turned into the parking garage.The gloves, the truth-seeking spell, his knowledge about Coleman …
“You’re fae, aren’t you?”
Falin frowned, not denying it, but not confirming either.
His gaze flickered to the van rumbling toward us, and without warning he pushed me back.
“Get down,” he yelled as the van door slid open and a dark gun muzzle appeared.
His body crashed into me, shoved me to the ground.
Gravel bit into my palms, my cheek. His weight on top of me pinned me to the ground as the bangs of gunshots filled the air around me. One. Two. Three shots. A car window shattered, and glass tumbled down over my exposed hand.
Then Falin jumped up, his gun already in his hand. I looked back, between the tires of the car next to me, and saw the rear bumper of the retreating van. Falin fired.
His shots pinged off the metal. The van’s tire blew out.
It didn’t stop but sped up, sparks flying. It turned the corner and jetted out the side entrance.
“You all right, Alexis?” Falin called back to me without turning around.
I pushed to my knees. My hands shook, adrenaline still flooding my system, but I said, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”
Something cylindrical rolled against my leg. Something that tingled with magic. I ripped my scarf off my head and scooped it up.
Without holstering his gun, Falin reached his free hand back toward me. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah.” I grabbed his hand and we ran for the car.
———
“Were they after you or me?” I asked, staring at the dart on the counter between us.
“You.”
I frowned, holding PC tight enough to my chest that he squirmed. I didn’t let go. “How can you be so sure? You’re the one who shot one of them.”
He removed one of his gloves and picked up the dart.
He stared at the liquid inside and let the tube roll across his palm.“The draught in here includes a knockout spell and a complacency spell. They weren’t after me.” He slid his glove back on.
But how did they find me? I shivered, cold now that my adrenaline had dropped. Feeling a little dazed, I walked across the room and sank onto the corner of my bed.
Falin frowned at me.“You should probably eat something.”
I nodded blankly, though I couldn’t have said whether I was hungry. I glanced back at the clock. It was after six.
So yes, it was dinnertime. I stopped.
After six?
I shot to my feet. “Crap, I have a client.”
“You what? Are you crazy? Cancel.”
I wish I could. It was six seventeen, and my clients were probably already en route to the cemetery. I couldn’t just not show up.
I set PC down on the bed and grabbed my purse.
“Uh.” I stopped, looking at Falin. “Come with me?”
“As in you need a ride?”
Well, yeah. But more than that, I was a little freakedout right now. I’d feel a hell of a lot better with him there than Holly or even Caleb. I winced a little. “Please?”
———
We pulled into Sleepy Knoll Cemetery fourteen minutes late. A large green sedan was parked in the visitor lot, and a young couple stood near the gates.
“That must be the Feegans,” I said, nodding to the couple. But I didn’t get out of the car. Get it together, Alex. Your clients shouldn’t see you shaking. I took a deep breath. Let it out.
Falin killed the ignition, but he didn’t open his door.
Instead, he watched me as if he was waiting for me to take the lead. Which was good. I was raising a shade.
This was my territory.
I was still shaking. Dammit. I channeled magic into my meditation charm.
My mind went blank, instantly clear, calm.
“Alex?” Falin shook my shoulder.
The bubble broke, and my head snapped up, but I was calmer now. I could do this. I smiled at him and reached for my door. I stopped halfway out of the car.
“Who do I tell them you are?”
“I don’t care.” He frowned at me. “Make something up.”
Right. I walked across the grass toward my clients with Falin at my heels. I hoped he didn’t scare them.
They introduced themselves as Ann and Frank Feegan, and then looked expectantly at Falin.
“This is Falin Andrews. He’s my …” Bodyguard?
Manager? Boyfriend? “… associate. He’ll just be observing today.”
Ann nodded, her dark hair falling over her shoulders as she smiled at him. Frank held out a hand.
After going through the obligatory speech the OMIH forced me to recite, Ann wrote me a check, and we were ready to go talk to the dead. I let them lead the way to the grave. A couple of ghosts flitted along the path, so faded they barely existed. Not one was as powerful as Roy. I ignored them, letting them carry out whatever tasks kept them here in peace.
“This is it,” Ann said, stopping before a double headstone with a fresh sprig of daisies in front of it.
I nodded, bowing my head for a moment of silence.
Families tended to like a little reverence for their dead.
“If everyone can stand over by that grave, I’ll draw my circle so we can get started.”
The Feegans obediently walked over to the right, but Falin headed in the other direction. He hung back a couple of rows. I frowned at him but didn’t say anything.
It didn’t matter where he stood, as long as he was out of the way of my circle.
Opening my bag, I dug for my ceramic knife. For indoor rituals, I always used my wax chalk, but that didn’t work so well in dirt and grass. Outside I actually had to cut my circle. Which was why I always carried the knife.
Except I couldn’t find it. Frowning, I dug to the bottom of my purse and found a small claim stub. Crap. I never got it back from the guard last Tuesday.
“You’re going to cast a circle?” Frank asked, and I couldn’t tell if his uncertainty was on why I was casting it or if.
I smiled at him, trying not to let my nerves show.“Yes, I never work without one.” Unless there is a bunch of big nasty spells around and I’m with Death. I masked my grimace by looking in my purse again. “Don’t worry. It won’t hinder your ability to speak with the shades.”
What am I going to do without a knife? Actually, I did have a knife. I had the enchanted dagger in my boot.
That will have to do. I didn’t draw the circle yet, but dropped my purse by the headstone and let my awareness stretch out a little.
The bodies below me were little more than bone and dust, but I felt a small spark in them. Enough that I was reasonably confident that I could raise their shades. The couple’s bodies weren’t center with the headstone, but that was common. Of course, that also meant the graves around them weren’t arranged quite correctly, either. I sent my awareness a little farther and plotted my path, walking the circle before drawing it. I didn’t want to trap any of the other corpses in my circle. As I walked I left a small trail of power in my wake. The power would dissipate quickly, but it would help me guide my knife.
When I reached the start of the trail I’d dropped, I stopped and looked around. More oval than circle. It would suffice. Kneeling, I drew the enchanted dagger and went to work. The dagger liked to be drawn. It liked to be used. It did not like to be dragged through the dirt.
I ignored the feel of its displeasure in the back of my head and finished tracing my circle. Then I stood, centered myself, and activated it. A blue barrier of power sprang up around me.
“I’m going to raise the shades now,” I told the couple.
They were looking at each other, creases of concern written across their faces. I smiled, trying to look reassuring.
Then I reached for the grave essence. It came easily, sliding along my skin like a cold but familiar lover, and I pushed it into the ground under me. I meant to raise the woman first, but I could feel both the bodies and the power moved through me, more than enough. Two shades sat up, out of the ground, their forms strong and crisp.
Well, okay. That works. I tried to keep the stunned look off my face as I looked up. Any chance of controlling my face failed when I caught sight of the young couple.
“What’s wrong?” Ann asked.
Through the patina of grave-sight, her smiling face was now a vastly different shape. The soft human woman was gone, replaced with a sharper, much more dangerous being. Her engorged black pupils left no whites or irises, and her hair was a snare of briars hanging to her knees. At her waist, Frank’s fingers stroked her hollow belly. Thorn fae.
I looked at Frank. He had also transformed. No longer was he a small, homely man; his face had spread, flattened. His mouth was too wide, with thick calloused lips around pointed teeth. His small eyes were too close to the center of his face, and his large ears contained the only hair on his head. His body was bent, his knees bowed. I had no idea what type of fae he was, but I was guessing something in the goblin family.
He smiled, flashing his pointed teeth, and I winced.
Crap. What now?
I glanced back over my shoulder. In my grave-sight, Falin was standing in dead grass, staring down at the crumbled headstones. His hair was even paler than normal, like glistening snow. I ripped my gaze away from him and focused on the fae Falin was oblivious to.
Not all fae are bad, I reminded myself. After all, Caleb and Falin were fae.
But Caleb was my friend, and he hadn’t deceived me.
And Falin … well, I was still figuring Falin out. But he seemed to be one of the good guys. The Feegans—or whoever they really were—had brought me here under false pretenses. The two shades I’d raised were definitely human, not fae. I took a deep breath. I’m inside a circle.
I’m okay. I just hoped everything stayed that way. I tapped into my ring and reinforced my barrier.
“Is there something wrong, Miss Craft?” Frank asked.
I shook my head. “You can question them now.” My voice came out shaky. Maybe they’ll think it has something do with using my magic.
The way they were both watching me, I didn’t think they bought my bravado.
“You were staring,” Frank said.
I tried to smile, knowing it came out weak. “Bad eyes.”
“What’s going on?” Falin asked.
Finally. I turned back to him and mouthed the word “fae.” His eyes widened, and his hand moved to his gun.
“We hired the witch for a service,” Ann snapped, watching his movement.
“Then ask your questions and be done with it,” Falin told her.
The two fae frowned at each other.
“Do you See, Miss Craft?” Frank asked, emphasizing “see” the same way Death had.
I gulped. See. As in see through glamour. I didn’t answer. Folklore was full of stories about people who had lost their eyes because they could see through fae glamour.
Again they looked at each other. Then Frank nodded.
Ann stepped forward, her briars rustling with the movement.
She walked all the way to my circle, and I stumbled back. I reached the back edge of the circle before forcing myself to stop. If I stepped through the circle or touched the barrier, it would snap. Then there would be nothing between the fae and me.
Falin pulled his gun and leveled it on the thorn fae.
She ignored him.
Her fingers danced along the edge of my circle, sending flares of bright magic lacing through the blue barrier.
“The Shadow Girl sends a warning,” she said. “A ghost girl of blood is worth treasure in silver chains, and if she is a fool, by commands she’ll know my pains. She who sees knows the eyes’ empty look, and seven times she’ll know what it is he took. Blood Moon rises over my sorrow, and the Golden Halls are ruled by a nightmare on the morrow.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
The thorn fae only smiled. “Here is my advice. Run away, Alex Craft. Change your name. Change your face. Run fast.”
Then she turned, and as if taking her advice, the two fae ran.
———
“You can’t just decide you’re staying at my house!”
Falin’s mouth crooked, a hint of a smile. “I can. I am. In the past twenty-four hours you’ve trespassed on a crime scene, been caught smuggling a gray spellbook into Central Precinct, broken into the statehouse, been shot at, and decided to accept a couple of fae as clients. You’re a danger to yourself when left alone.” He closed the door behind him.
“That’s not true.” Or, at least, it wasn’t completely true. I was quite obviously a danger to people with me as well. PC ran figure eights between our legs, and I scooped him up. “I’m not going out again tonight. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re also chilled to the bone again.”
Which meant he was also inviting himself into my bed.
“Just think of it as police protection.” He gave me a full smile.
I rolled my eyes, but in truth, I’d rather not be alone.
“I’m taking PC for a walk. We’ll discuss it when I get back.”
When PC and I walked back inside, I discovered Falin digging through my cabinets.
“How can you survive on this garbage?”
I unhooked PC’s leash. “Hey, you’re crashing my apartment. The food is what it is.”
Falin slammed the fridge door closed. “Don’t take your shoes off. We’re going grocery shopping.”
Two hours later, my house was filled with the mouthwatering scent of garlic and lemon. The delicious smell dragged me away from my computer screen. I shuffled into the kitchen, my hands in my back pockets as I tried to peer around Falin’s shoulders.
“I thought you needed a grill to cook steak?” Which was the same comment I’d made in the grocery store when he’d picked out the thick cuts of meat. He’d only shaken his head and put them in the cart anyway. Not that I was complaining. Occasionally I ate with Holly and Caleb, but otherwise, the only meat I ate these days I poured out of a can.
Falin flipped the sizzling steaks. “I’m searing it, not grilling it. Unless you want to cut the vegetables for the salad, get out of the kitchen.”
I didn’t pout. Not exactly, at least. By the time the salad was ready, Falin had the steaks off the stove and set on plates beside steaming baked potatoes.
“Where are we eating?” he asked, glancing around.
“Uh …” Crap, I hadn’t thought about that. I usually ate in front of my computer or leaning against a counter.
I didn’t even have a second chair in the apartment. I shrugged. “Floor picnic?”
He shook his head, and his eyes swept over the small apartment again, as though if he looked hard enough he’d find a hidden table. After a moment, he huffed out his breath. “We’ll have a bed picnic,” he said, and set off with the plates.
PC danced around Falin’s legs, jumping and begging.
I hooked my foot around the small dog and dragged him backward. He whined, flashing big eyes at me.“No steak for you.”
PC whined again, recognizing the word “no.” Then he turned his attention back to Falin. As soon as Falin sat on the bed, PC jumped into his lap. The little traitor.
I grabbed silverware as Falin defended our dinner from one very hungry Chinese crested. “What do you want to drink?” I asked, opening the fridge.
“Beer.”
I grabbed two bottles—another purchase Falin had made at the grocery store—and headed to the bed. I traded a bottle of beer for my plate. I was almost leery of trying the steak. After all, it smelled too good to believe—what if the taste didn’t live up to the smell?
I gingerly cut a small piece. The knife slid through easily. And the meat—the meat all but melted in my mouth. I barely held back a moan. “I changed my mind. You can move in as long as you cook.”
Falin’s fork paused halfway to his mouth.
“Uh …” I looked away and grabbed my beer. “I’m kidding, of course. I just mean … dinner is great.”
His lips curled into a small smile. “That is almost a thank-you.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” I focused on my plate, but a smile had claimed my mouth when I wasn’t paying attention.
When I glanced up, he was watching me with a small crooked smile clinging to the sides of his lips. Okay, this was awkward, but the food was awesome. Where had the man learned to cook?
“So, uh, FIB, huh?” I said, feeling the need to say something in the uncomfortable silence building as he watched me eat—which was kind of weird. “What do they know about Coleman, or whatever creature was masquerading as Coleman?”
His smile slipped. “He’s old. Very old. The fae were fading for centuries, but now that mortals believe again, the older legends, some forgotten in the sands of time, are reemerging. ‘Coleman’ was the body thief’s most recent of who knows how many identities. I’m not sure what his original nature was.”
I nodded. “So, do you—” I stopped myself. Falin was fae. That fact hadn’t really had time to fully sink in yet, but it needed to. There were rules when talking to fae, taboos not to be broken, slippery wording. Caleb was my friend and would warn me if I blundered into a dangerous conversation with him, but even in our friendship, there were dangerous conversations. I had no such guarantee from Falin. “Can I ask you about the glyphs?”
He set down his fork. “I’d rather you didn’t, but I doubt that would stop you. Whatever it is you can see on the corpse in the morgue, I cannot see, and I’m not familiar with the glyphs cut into the bodies of the ritual victims. Now, this is not exactly a dinner conversation.”
“Right.” I focused on my food and let the silence spread.
I’d meant to leave a piece of steak for PC, but before I realized it, my plate was empty. Leaning back against the pillows, I rubbed my belly. “That was amazing.”
The thing about living alone is that you talk to yourself. A lot. For a very brief moment, I’d forgotten Falin was there. Of course, when he turned and flashed that lopsided smile at me, forgetting he was there was impossible.
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I sat up straight again.
“Can I take your plate?” I asked, reaching toward the empty plate.
He held it out for me, but as I stood he also rose. “I’ll help you clean up.”
I’d intended to put the plates in the sink and leave them for later, but Falin insisted on helping me clean everything, so we ended up side by side. Me washing dishes and him drying them. He’d abandoned his jacket over the back of my one chair, and the sleeves of his oxford were rolled to his elbows. As we worked our shoulders brushed against each other. When I handed him a fork, his long fingers slid along mine, and my stomach somersaulted.
This was crazy. He was secretive, bossy, and regularly insufferable. He had also saved my life a couple of times.
And he looked really good in my kitchen.
I cut off the water and dried my hands on the front of my jeans. “I’m going to …” Run away? Hide? I cleared my throat and pointed to the back of the apartment.
“I’m going to take a shower before bed.” Without another word, I retreated to the only other room in my loft.
Of course, that meant I’d forgotten to grab something to change into. Wrapped in an oversized towel, I reached for my toothbrush and suffered a moment of confusion as my fingers landed on one that wasn’t mine.
Falin had picked up some essentials when we went to the store, and now his fresh new toothbrush was leaning against mine. I frowned at it, a chill sliding down my spine. I did not cohabitate. I hadn’t even had a second date since leaving school. I quite preferred saying goodbye the morning after without ever learning the guy’s name. Now I had a guy’s toothbrush beside mine, and I hadn’t even slept with him. Well, I’d technically slept with him, but we hadn’t …
I brushed my teeth until my gums bled. Then I brushed my hair, braided it, and unbraided it. This is silly. I have to leave the bathroom sometime. It was only going to get more awkward if I kept putting it off. I wrapped the towel tighter around myself and abandoned my hiding spot.
Falin was using my computer. He didn’t look up as I stormed by, so I didn’t pay him any attention. Ransacking my PJ drawer, I pulled out a plain camisole and a cute pair of silk shorts. They had been gifts from Holly last year, and the fact that I cared they were cute pissed me off. However, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to wear them.
As I raided my top drawer in search of a clean pair of panties, Falin shut down the computer.
“I’ll take a shower before bed, too,” he said, standing.
I nodded absently and turned my back on him so I could pull my clothes on. As I tugged the camisole over my head the bathroom door shut. I dropped the towel and stepped into the panties. Someone coughed behind me.
The world slowed to highlight every millisecond it took for my head to turn, my underwear still around my thighs. My cheeks burned as my eyes found Falin. He was leaning out of the bathroom, his eyes respectfully averted to the far wall but his lips curled in a grin.
“A clean towel?” he asked.
I yanked on my panties, glancing at the soggy towel by my feet. It had been the only towel left in the bathroom.
Lifting a finger, I pointed. “Closet.”
He pulled open the doors without further prompting, and I pulled on my shorts.
My cheeks were still burning as I climbed into bed and whistled for PC. He jumped on his normal pillow.
“I think Falin will probably want to sleep there,” I told him and moved him to the end of the bed.
He gave me an indignant look, then turned three circles before settling down. He licked his casted leg, as if to point out he was injured and needed the pillow. Then his eyes closed, and he was asleep.
“Wish I could fall asleep that easy,” I told the dog.
He didn’t even look up.
I snuggled deep under my blankets and squeezed my eyes shut, but I was still awake when the bathroom door opened. The bed moved as Falin crawled into it, and the spicy scent of the soap he’d bought washed over me.
Then his arm slipped around my waist. My heart made a simultaneous attempt to escape through the front of my chest and to cozy back against him. It left me breathless and trying not to gasp in the dark.
“Good night, Alexis,” he whispered, his breath heating the skin on the back of my neck.
I didn’t dare answer, or even move as his fingers splayed over my stomach. I lay in the darkness, listening.
It was a long time after his breathing evened out with sleep that dreams finally found me.