Chapter 10
BESIDES ME, HERNE snorted. But he didn’t contradict his father.
Cernunnos leaned down, inches from my face as he held my gaze. I was afraid to look away. I didn’t want to appear rude, or anything like that. After a moment, he held out his hand. I stared at the massive fingers for a moment, then took them, allowing him to help me to my feet.
“Welcome, Ember, to my home. Herne, mind your manners and bring over a bench so she’ll have a place to sit.”
Herne jumped up and, without a word, carried back one of the marble benches as though it were light as a feather. He sat it down in front of the throne and I obediently took a seat, still staring at the god that Herne called “Papa.”
“Thank you,” I finally got up the courage to say. “Your Lordship,” I added hastily.
He leaned back in his seat, his elbows resting on the arms of the throne, as he contemplated both of us. “You may call me Lord Cernunnos. I don’t stand on ceremony.”
“Yes, sir,” I started to say, then scrambled to add, “Yes, Lord Cernunnos.” I felt all the world as though I was in the principal’s office again, only this time the principal could probably strike me dead with a lightning bolt.
“You are enjoying my son’s company?”
I blinked. What the hell was I going to say? No? But grateful I could tell him the truth, I nodded. “Yes, I truly am. Herne has been wonderful to Angel and me.”
“Ah. Your best friend. So, you like working for the Wild Hunt?”
Again, I nodded. “It beats what I was doing before, to be honest. And it’s fascinating work. It also… You know my heritage, I assume?”
He inclined his head. “Yes, but I never let my prejudices interfere with individual relationships. I have to admit, the Fae have the potential to be an incredible people, but with the petty warring that goes on between the two factions, they push my patience to the very edge. However, my personal feelings beside the point, Morgana speaks highly of you. And your father was a faithful acolyte to me.”
“I never even knew he was pledged in your service.”
“Your parents were fairly close-mouthed. Pity about their deaths.” He seemed to muse over his words for a moment. “Ah, well. It’s good to finally meet you. And I’m glad that my son and you are happy. But I didn’t call you here just for social banter. I actually have something serious to discuss with you both.”
He snapped his fingers, and a moment later a servant rushed in, though how she heard him, I wasn’t sure. She gave him a deep curtsey, then stood back, waiting for orders.
“Bring us mead. And bread.” As she ran off, he turned back to me with a big smile. “I have developed a taste for what you call French bread. I had one of my servants go over to your realm in order to learn how to bake it. I could eat it day and night.”
I couldn’t help it. I dissolved into slightly hysterical laughter.
Cernunnos stared at me for a moment, looking puzzled. “I said something funny?”
I shook my head, trying to stop laughing. “No—no. It’s just that… I’m standing here in front of the Lord of the Hunt and we’re talking about baking bread. It seems like such an odd juxtaposition.” I wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself.
“Ah,” he said, still looking bewildered. “Well then, onto more serious subjects. You are working on a case now for the Foam Born hippocampi, aren’t you? Up on Whidbey Island?”
Herne nodded. “Yes. Is that a problem?”
Cernunnos paused as the servant returned with a tray heaped with freshly toasted baguettes slathered in butter, along with three goblets and a huge bottle of mead. She poured our drinks, handed them around, and then handed us plates filled with a crunchy, yeasty bread. It smelled incredibly good and I realized I was hungry. With a curtsey, she left.
The Lord of the Hunt bade us eat, and we spent a moment or two tearing into the bread. The mead was also good, though it went to my head immediately and I realized I needed to take very small sips or I’d end up drunk off my ass. Apparently, the gods made their booze stronger than humans did.
Herne noticed as I shakily sat down my drink. “I should have warned you. The mead here is probably comparable to 151-proof rum back at home. I suggest you drink it slowly.”
“I kind of figured that out,” I said. “I’ve probably had enough for now.”
Herne glanced back at his father. “So, is there a problem? The case didn’t seem like something to bring to your attention. I don’t think it actually has anything to do with the Fae, except there seems to be attempted coverups for several murders over some time. Actually, what looks like twenty murders now that we’ve pried into it.”
Cernunnos finished another chunk of the bread. “The Light Fae woman Astrana has approached me. You obviously know who she is, so I’m not going to reiterate her history. She has petitioned to have you removed from the case. I need to know more about it so I can make an informed decision. She said it has nothing to do with mitigating the Fae war, but I feel that she’s hiding something and I don’t like being led on a wild goose chase.”
“We were approached by Rhiannon, the Matriarch of the Foam Born, to look into an unsolved murder case. Her cousin’s death.” Herne relayed everything that had happened since we arrived at Whidbey Island. “I’m getting extremely irritated with Astrana, given it looks like we have a serial killer on our hands. Twenty murders that went cold, buried under silence, and that doesn’t even account for the forty-odd people who were reported missing and never heard from again. Most of the murders were attributed to random vampire kills, but I will tell you this, there’s no way in hell that a vampire killed them.”
“What do you think is happening?” Cernunnos asked.
Herne shrugged, frowning. “I’m not certain. However, Ember and I found a stand of blackthorn on the island, and those trees are sentient. They attacked us, and actually managed to do some serious damage to Ember here. Take off your bandage and show my father your puncture marks. Marks of the kind that have been found on every murder victim, as far as we can tell.”
Cernunnos blinked. “Blackthorn? Blackthorn isn’t supposed to grow around there.”
“I know. And the doctor told Ember that she was imagining it. Not the wound, but that it was from a blackthorn. He categorically denied that there was any on the island.”
The Lord of the Hunt shifted on his throne, frowning as I undid the bandage and showed him my wounds. They hadn’t festered, but they were deep, and didn’t look like they were healing as fast as I usually did. Once the open air hit them, they hurt like hell and I winced.
“Oh dear. That makes me—hold on a moment.” Cernunnos reached down and rang a bell by the side of his throne. Once again the servant returned.
“Bring me Ferosyn. And tell him to move his ass. This is important.” As the servant ran out of the room, he turned to me. “Ferosyn is my chief healer. He’s one of Brighid’s grandsons. He’s part human, so he’s a demigod, somewhat like my son although not quite so powerful. But as a healer, there are none better.”
I hadn’t realized demigods existed before I met Herne. I had never thought about it.
Cernunnos gently took hold of my arm as I held it out. He could have crushed my wrist with his fingers, but his touch was light and comforting. He held my wounds up so that he could see better, then snapped his fingers and one of the flickering lights sailed down and hovered right over my wrist. It illuminated the punctured skin as brightly as an LED light bulb would.
“Ferosyn will know for sure, but this is more than just a blackthorn wound. They can be nasty, and the plant itself has a horrendous temper, but there is something…else here.”
Herne crowded in, staring at the puncture marks. “The wound doesn’t look like it’s healing up as fast as it should.”
“I know,” I said, getting more worried by the moment. “I don’t think it’s infected—at least not yet. But I heal quickly. I’m not sure what’s going on. I’ve been using the salve the doctor gave me.”
At that moment, a tall, lithe Elf walked into the room. He looked young, but the aura of age surrounded him. He was probably at least a thousand years old, given how long the Elves lived. He bowed low before Cernunnos, then glanced at Herne and me.
“You know my son, Herne. Meet his consort, Ember.”
Ferosyn murmured what seemed like an appropriate greeting, then turned back to Cernunnos. “What can I do for you, my lord?” Like many professionals, he was all business.
“Examine her wrist. A blackthorn bush attacked her. She didn’t fall into it, the bush reached out and wrapped itself around her arm. What do you make of that? And why isn’t she healing as fast as she should be?”
“I’ll need to take her into the examination room, Your Lordship.”
“Then do so. Return when you have your diagnosis. Herne, go with her.” Cernunnos gave me a kind smile, and I realized that he understood how nervous I was. I was starting to really like Herne’s father, even though he still scared the shit out of me.
We followed Ferosyn out of a door opposite the one we had come in, and down a long corridor that was filled with Elves. I realized that we were in the heart of the palace now. The passage we had entered through hadn’t been one of the main thoroughfares. The Elves passing by all gave Herne respectful bows, but their eyes were locked on me, and I realized they probably wondered what the hell one of the Fae—especially a tralaeth—was doing here.
Ferosyn led us into a room off one of the main corridors. It looked remarkably like a regular doctor’s room, with beakers and lab equipment on one side table, an examination table that seemed to have been pilfered from our realm, and enough of the flickering lights that the room was bright. He motioned for me to hop up on the exam table, and I grinned as I did so. Apparently the gods weren’t above borrowing human know-how and technology.
“Are you allergic to anything that you know of?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I can’t tell you for sure, but I’ve never encountered a problem yet.”
Using an eye-dropper, he began to drip various substances on different puncture marks. Some of them stung and I grimaced, but forced myself to sit still. Others seem to have no effect. As I watched, a wisp of smoke came up from one of them and I wondered what the hell he was doing to me. Herne didn’t seem concerned, though, so I tried not to worry. After a few moments, one of the puncture wounds turned a brilliant, vivid green around the edges.
“Bingo. We have an answer.” But then, the joy in Ferosyn’s voice vanished and a look of concern filled his eyes. That had me worried. When an Elf actually looked concerned, it made me nervous.
“What is it? I can tell you’re disturbed.” It wasn’t that I wanted bad news, but it was better to know about it and start treatment, than wait till it became an even bigger problem later on.
“Oh, it’s blackthorn, all right. But it’s more than just the bush. We need to talk with His Lordship.” He paused, looking through several vials. Finally, he found one and handed it to me. “This should heal you up faster. Use it twice a day. Rub the salve in carefully, making sure to get it inside the puncture wounds. It will sting, but it will definitely heal you up. You won’t have to wear a bandage unless you want to, but try to keep the wound clean.”
I gave Herne a curious look, and he returned it, shrugging. We followed Ferosyn back to the throne room, where Cernunnos was waiting. He motioned for Herne and me to sit down again.
“Well? Did you find out what’s going on?”
“Yes, Your Lordship. She definitely was attacked by blackthorn bush, there’s no question of it. However, there was more to the poison than just straight blackthorn. I detected Ante-Fae magic. I gave her some medication to heal the wounds. Otherwise, they would eventually fester.”
Cernunnos blinked. “Ante-Fae? Are you certain?”
Ferosyn nodded. “Most definitely. I suggest you find out which of the Ante-Fae rule that area. One name in particular comes to mind, and I suspect you’ll find out better than I can.”
Cernunnos held his gaze. “You’re talking about Blackthorn, aren’t you?”
Ferosyn nodded. “It would make sense. But I don’t know if any of the others use the blackthorn tree as a weapon. As I said, you’ll know better than I would.”
“Very well. Thank you, you may go.” As Ferosyn exited the room, Cernunnos turned back to Herne and me. “So, that answers one question. Several, perhaps.”
“What are the Ante-Fae?” I had never heard of them.
“They’re highly dangerous,” Herne said. His smile vanished, and the look of puzzlement darkened into a scowl. “In fact, they can be as dangerous and as powerful as the gods.”
“If you had been raised with your family, your parents might have told you about the Ante-Fae. If they knew about them, that is. Not many of the Fae actually know they exist. Astrana must have somehow stumbled onto one. Given what I suspect, she has a reason to want to keep those murders under wraps. Her life may depend on it.” Cernunnos’s expression was as dark as Herne’s.
“Tell me what they are.” I had a feeling I was about to find out something that I would regret knowing.
“Before the Fae traveled over the Great Sea to your realm, before the great cities of TirNaNog and Navane rose in Annwn, and before the Fae grew to become so powerful, there were the Ante-Fae. They were the forerunners of your race—both sides of it. Herne is correct in that some of them are as dangerous and as powerful as the gods. They are ancient and treacherous, and each one is unique with different powers. Most of them are rooted deep within the earth and water, although some are connected with the elements of sky and fire.”
I sucked in a deep breath. I knew what he was talking about. There had been tales of such creatures—mythology was full of them. Each one was named, and each one seemed to have been the mother or father of a branch of Fae. A lot of the sub-Fae seemed to descend from them.
“You’re talking about creatures like Jenny Greenteeth, or the Black Annis, aren’t you?”
Cernunnos nodded. “Those are two of the more famous ones. There are hundreds of them, perhaps thousands. They inhabit wild areas, and ancient caves, but some of them live near civilization. They hide in plain sight. The one Ferosyn and I were talking about is named Blackthorn, the King of Thorns. He’s a deadly, dangerous, and greedy soul. I need to find out where he was last located. Morgana and I keep track of the Ante-Fae as much as we can, because although they do not bother themselves with the Light and Dark courts, they sometimes stir things up and put humans in peril. We can’t do much about them, but if this one—and I’ll bet my boots it’s Blackthorn—has enlisted Astrana to cover up murders, then we have a problem spilling into the mortal world. I assume not all of those who were killed were Fae?”
Herne shook his head. “No, a few were human. Then we can stay on the case?”
“Most assuredly. Especially now that I know the Ante-Fae are involved. I’ll inform Astrana that there is call for you to investigate. Unfortunately, she will then, no doubt, relay the information to Blackthorn. Be on your guard. The covenant we have with the Light and the Dark Fae does not include the Ante-Fae.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked.
“It means if Blackthorn attacks you, I can’t step in directly. All we can do is try to control the damage and keep the Light and the Dark from taking part in it. This is a delicate matter. Bluntly put, we have to put a stop to it, but Blackthorn is free to fight back.” Cernunnos looked troubled.
“So, we can intervene, but unlike with the Light and Dark courts, he doesn’t have to offer us protection,” Herne said.
“That’s about the size of it.” Cernunnos stood. “I need to talk to Morgana and see if she has any ideas. Meanwhile, return to your realm. I’ll contact you as soon as we can verify which of the Ante-Fae you are facing. Meanwhile, walk softly. One of the first things you need to do is locate where he’s hiding.”
“We were going to talk to the families. If we can ascertain where the victims disappeared, then we may be able to triangulate a common point. We also have forty missing people who vanished from the area over the past thirty years and no clue of what happened—the stories, again, were buried. As far as the dead, four of the families seemed to come into a spot of good fortune shortly afterward. Sixteen didn’t, and they’re the ones who moved. Marilyn said she was notified about some insurance payout that she assumed was a scam because she had already received a check, so that could be related.” Herne stood, motioning for me to join him.
As I did, Trospos entered the room. “I have your key for the portal,” he said. “Please hold out your hand—your healthy one.”
I did as he asked, and he pressed his hand over mine. A warmth rippled through my fingers and as he pulled away, I could see a faint gold sigil under the skin. “How do I use this?”
“Just hold your hands up to the twin oaks, and they will register the energy within the sigil. When the portal opens fully, you’ll feel a shock in your hand. I’m sure Lord Herne will teach you how to use it. This will open any portal to Lord Cernunnos’s realm.”
Cernunnos watched Trospos, then turned back to Herne. “If the murder victims’ families were paid to keep their mouth shut, regardless of who handed out the coin, they’re not likely to be very friendly to strangers.” He gave me a quick bow. “Ember Kearney, I’m glad we met. I hope that you continue to enjoy working for the Wild Hunt. Your father’s death saddened me. We will speak again, hopefully sooner than later.”
And with that, he motioned us out of the throne room.
BY THE TIME we returned to John’s yard, stepping through the scarlet oak portal, two hours had passed. It felt like far longer, but that’s how interdimensional realms tended to work. Herne pulled out his cell phone, checking to see if he had any messages.
“Talia wants to know if we’re back yet. I’ll text her that we are on the way.”
I glanced at my wrist, which Ferosyn had wrapped again. It wasn’t hurting as much, and the jar of salve was comfortably tucked away in my bag.
“So what did you think of my father?” Herne held the car door open for me and I slid into the passenger seat, fastening my seatbelt.
I had expected the question and was prepared with an answer.
“He’s intimidating. I sure as hell wouldn’t want him angry at me. But he was really nice, and I wasn’t as afraid of him as I thought I would be.”
Herne’s phone rang and he answered it before turning on the ignition.
“Cernunnos,” he mouthed to me. “Yes? Uh-huh, really? So what does that mean for us?” He paused, frowning. “Can you send me the information? Email me the file, if you would. All right, thank you.” Again, he paused. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she? She said she liked you, too.”
As he popped his phone back in his pocket and started the car, I waited for him to tell me what he had found out. I already knew he had been talking about me at the end.
“My father likes you a lot. He says you have spunk. That’s a compliment. It looks like we are dealing with Blackthorn, the King of Thorns. My father is emailing me a file on him now. He warned me to be very careful. Blackthorn is highly dangerous. He’s extremely old, which makes him even more cunning. He’s going to hold off talking to Astrana for as long as he can.”
“Then we’ve bought a little time before she figures out we’re on to things. Once he gets back to her, she’ll know we talked to Cernunnos and told him everything. Or will she? Is there any chance that she’ll assume he made an arbitrary decision without finding out the facts?” It wasn’t likely, but I could hope.
“I don’t think so. She’s not stupid. My father’s right, we have to walk carefully on this one. Considering what those bushes did to your wrist, I think that being tangled up in an entire patch of them could very quickly lead to death.”
“Do you think the murder victims found out something about Blackthorn and were going to cause trouble?”
Herne turned onto Oceanside Drive. “That seems like it would be a possibility, except for the timing. They died during two time periods per year. Near Beltane and near Samhain. When did all the missing people vanish?”
I thought for a moment. “It had to be during those time periods. They were the only ones we checked the papers for. April and May, and October and November.”
“That’s hard to ignore. Some of the Ante-Fae are drawn into the cyclical nature of the year. There’s something ritualistic about these murders. Which means they’ll continue until we put a stop to them.” He paused. “Wait, why did we just look during those times?”
“Rosetta told us she looked into it and suggested we check those periods. Why? Do you think there might be others throughout the year?”
Herne paused, staring at the road as we drove. “I don’t know. My head says yes, we should go back and check every single month. My gut tells me no, that we’re onto the right path.”
“Then go with your gut. I know it’s counter to logic, but there’s a reason your father put you in charge of the agency. But we can always have Talia or Yutani go back over it, if you like.” I paused. “How long has Blackthorn been in this area? If it’s longer than thirty or so years, why weren’t there unexplained murders before then? Or were they just never found or recorded? Has this been going on since he came to the area? And if not, why did it start now? Or rather, forty years ago? What set off the spree?”
“Maybe the file my father emailed us will answer some of those questions. They’re good considerations, though.” Herne parked the car. “It really does seem unlikely that, after thousands of years, one of the Ante-Fae would suddenly turn into a serial murderer. I don’t know, Ember. I’m perplexed. Come on, the file’s in my inbox so let’s go inside and have a look.”
As we headed into the hotel, my phone rang. I glanced at the Caller ID. It was Rachel Madison, the real estate agent. “Hello?”
“Well, if you still want it, the owner has accepted your offer. The house is yours, pending inspection.” She sounded almost giddy. I supposed I would, too, if I finally sold a house that had been on the market for well over a year.
“Yes, I do! I will set up an inspection as soon as I can. I’d like to be there, but I’m not sure how much longer this case is going to take.”
“Just let me know by tomorrow if you’ve been able to reach anybody. We should get this going as soon as possible.” Which was code for: I really don’t want this to fall through, can you please follow up on this.
“I’ll be in touch with you by tomorrow morning. Thank you!” As I hung up I couldn’t help but feel a little gleeful. “I got the house! If the inspection goes through, that is.”
Herne clapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him as he planted a kiss on my forehead.
“Congratulations! You and Angel need this. That condo of yours is nice, but it’s far too small.”
“It served its purpose, but you’re right, it’s time to move on. And Mr. Rumblebutt will like having a place to stretch out and a garden to play in.”
We darted across the parking lot, dodging the rain that had suddenly broken loose. Herne must have texted for everyone to meet us because when we entered the Edgewater Coffee Shop, they were all there at one of the tables. I stopped at the counter to order a quint-shot mocha, and Herne asked for a triple-shot cappuccino. We carried our drinks over to the table and joined them.
“Well, you look like you survived,” Angel said, giving me the once-over.
“I actually enjoyed my visit,” I said, playing it blasé. “Cernunnos is intimidating, but he made me feel welcome. However, I think right now we have more important matters to discuss.” I looked at Herne.
“Ember is correct. We have a major problem on our hands. I’m going to email each of you a file that my father sent me. We need to discuss this, and we need to discuss it in private. Yutani, can you check my room again, just in case they figured it out and came back to plant another bug?” Herne took a sip of his cappuccino. “Text me if everything’s all right.” He handed his key card to Yutani, who nodded and took off toward the elevator.
Talia frowned. “We aren’t dealing with a simple murder case, are we?”
“No,” Herne said. “And we’re into a delicate balancing act. A deadly one.”
He said no more, and I turned my attention to my drink, welcoming the rush of caffeine into my system. A few moments later Yutani texted that everything was all right, so we gathered up our drinks and gear and headed upstairs to Herne’s room, where he shut the door and locked it.
As we settled down around the room, he dove in.
“First, Astrana knows that we’re on to this case. She’s complained to Cernunnos. He’s going to put off answering her as long as he can, but chances are, she’s going to know—or at least think we know—her secrets. So she’s absolutely no help and will interfere with us if she can. Now please, open the documents that I just forwarded to you.”
I quickly brought up the document, startled that it was so detailed and well laid out. Apparently, the gods really did understand technology.
Morgana had emailed Herne several files on Blackthorn, and Herne directed us to the first one. With my help, he filled everybody else in on what had happened during our visit with his father.
“The Ante-Fae? Crap.” Talia shook her head, and the look on her face told me she already knew what they were. “We really don’t need to tangle with them.”
“To make things worse, we’re dealing with Blackthorn, the King of Thorns. Cernunnos seemed extremely unhappy about that. Let’s see what my mother has to say about him.”
Morgana’s document contained what appeared to be an encyclopedia definition, although it wasn’t from any encyclopedia I was aware of.
Blackthorn, the King of Thorns, is one of the most ancient of the Ante-Fae. Originating from the UK, he has control over almost every thorn-bearing plant, specializing in blackthorn trees. But he can also control bramble bushes, rose bushes, and any other bushes containing thorns. Like most of the Ante-Fae, the source-roots of the King of Thorns are unknown. However, he is linked to shadow magic, dream magic, and it is said he feeds off of pain and despair.
He has had a number of children with various other Ante-Fae, and not all of them are accounted for. Unlike a number of the Ante-Fae, the King of Thorns thrives in inhabited areas, and has an insatiable greed for power. He is, however, willing to make deals, and in fact, is always looking for a way to increase his network. He is said to have made alliances with some of the vampires over the eons, finding them useful allies. He tends to prefer coastlines, and at one time or another has lived all over the world. His most current known whereabouts is said to be somewhere in the Puget Sound area. Very little is known about his ultimate goals, and any further information would be welcomed by the Historians.
I stared at the information, trying to reconcile it to what we knew about the case.
“He doesn’t sound like a serial killer to me. What about religious beliefs? Could he follow some ancient god who requires a sacrifice every few years?” I still wasn’t clear on the Ante-Fae and how they related to the gods.
“That’s one possibility,” Herne said. “But I tend to agree. He doesn’t sound like a serial killer. He may feed off of pain, and he probably has sadistic tendencies, but that alone does not a serial killer make. That doesn’t even necessarily correlate to regular murderers. Sadists tend to get off on pain, not death.”
“He likes deals, which accounts for his dealing with vampires. They’re all about networking and grasping for power that way. Ten to one, he’s made a deal with Astrana, in his favor, of course. So she’s covering up these murders for a reason. If he’s not the killer—and we don’t know that yet—then why is he enlisting her to hide them?” Yutani tapped the other documents, opening them. “Most of these say approximately the same thing. Who’s the historian mentioned?”
“I can tell you that,” Talia said. “There are several agencies that watch over the Ante-Fae, as well as other ancient creatures and beings. The Ante-Fae are only one sector of bogeyman that we have to pay attention to. The historians belong to the society of record-keepers. They do their best to keep track these creatures and beings. They aren’t always up to date, but they do what they can.”
“What’s the name of the society?” Angel asked. “Are we even supposed to know about it?”
“It can’t hurt that you do—especially considering that we’re part of the Wild Hunt. It’s better off that most people don’t know about it, though.” Herne flipped through his wallet, then pulled out a business card and tossed it on the table. “You all might as well enter that information into your contacts. That’s the local representative for LOCK—the Library of Cryptic Knowledge. It’s the brainchild of Taliesin, one of the Force Majeure—and the less you ask about that, the better. He started it about two thousand years ago, and like the Wild Hunt, it’s spread all over the world. There are branches of the library in every major country.”
I picked up the card. The name on it read Gwydion Jones. I entered it into my contacts along with the phone number and address, both of which were in Redmond.
As Angel entered the information into her phone, she asked, “Just how many secret societies are out there? I think I’ve learned more about the world in the past few months than I ever have before in my life. It feels like everywhere I turn, there’s some secret organization or group doing something or researching something.”
Talia laughed, her eyes twinkling. The harpy had quite a sense of humor, I had to give it to her for that.
“You haven’t even scratched the surface, child. You should feel privileged, though. Not many humans know much about this, and a lot of those who do stumble over this sort of information end up vanishing off the face of the earth.”
At Angel’s horrified look, Talia added, “I don’t mean they’re killed. It’s just that sometimes information needs to be kept private in order to safeguard operations. Some of them end up being relocated with their families, or they have their memories wiped of whatever they learned. A few of the darker organizations, of course, resort to murder.”
“Lovely. Let’s just hope we can keep out of their way.” Angel handed the card back to Herne.
“My father suggested we still interview those four families, but our goal is to find out where Blackthorn’s located, and what his intentions are. We need to put a stop to these murders. That Cernunnos was firm on. The carnage is spilling out into the mortal world, and even though the Ante-Fae are not part of the Fae Courts, he still wants us to end this. So we have our marching orders. Angel, you might as well book our rooms for the next few days. I don’t think we’re going anywhere soon. But do so under my own account. I’m not charging Rhiannon for the rest of this investigation since my father ordered us to continue.”
“It’s going on four o’clock now. Should we interview the families today? We can probably get through all four in the next couple hours if we split up,” Yutani said.
“I think so. Yutani, you’re with me. Viktor and Ember, you go together. Angel and Talia, stay here and do whatever research you can. Try to find out just where the blackthorn patches are on this island. The doctor said there weren’t any, but we know that’s a lie.”
“That means he may be in on this, too,” I said.
“He could well be. Somebody has to be examining those bodies and not making a peep over how they were killed.”
“We’ll comb the Net,” Talia said.
“Right. Don’t go driving around looking for them.” Herne’s hair fell forward. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and brushed it back behind his ear. He gave me a twinkling smile and winked.
Yutani’s nose was still deep in the files. “If all the bodies were found in the state park, shouldn’t we search the park as well?”
“Yes, we should. But for now let’s interview those families. Then we can decide how to approach the park.” Herne looked around, letting out a long sigh. “Are we ready?”
I suddenly remembered Rachel’s call—with all the worry over Blackthorn, the good news had slipped my mind.
“Oh, I forgot! Angel, we got the house!”
Angel gave me a high five.
“Can you look into inspectors—you know, house inspectors—while I’m out?”
“Sure thing,” she said.
And with that, we headed out.