Authors: Shanna Swendson
Tags: #FIC009010 FICTION / Fantasy / Contemporary; FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women; FIC010000 FICTION / Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology
“Yeah, but I think the enchantresses are noticing something, and it’s their job to stop it.”
“I thought the enchantresses were our friends.”
“Amelia and Athena helped us before, but their real job is protecting humans. And then there are all the others out there who may start to figure out that something’s up with the fae. There’s already one here visiting. She may be looking into things, and if they find out what Sophie is, well, it could get bad for her.”
“I’m not sure anything could get too bad for Sophie. Not that she couldn’t get herself out of.”
“True,” Emily conceded. “But is there any way Nana could spread the word to knock it off or at least be more careful for a while?”
“I will speak to her about it.”
“In the meantime, is there anything that can be done to keep the fairies out of the bedroom?”
“I am the wrong person to ask. That would be a question for the enchantresses or the wise ones.”
Yeah, she wasn’t going to be talking to Michael about this, not even to get him to talk to his friend the magical bag lady. She’d end up with an armed cop watching her twenty-four/seven. Maybe Athena could help her.
Suddenly, dancing the night away with the fairies seemed a lot less fun. “I’m afraid it’s getting late,” she said, “and I can’t really afford to stay out all night.”
“I will escort you home.”
“That’s sweet, but not necessary. I can get a cab.”
“Then I will escort you away from the revel.”
A part of her was tempted to turn back as the wild music called to her. Was being taken to dance with the fairies really that bad? And was it true that these people actually wanted it, that the fairies were fulfilling some deep-down desire? Would it be wrong to stop it? And was this the cost of having a world with a little more magic in it?
The Precinct
Friday, 7:30 a.m.
Michael nearly had to put a dollar in the penalty jar when he returned to the squad room and saw his desk. He liked the holiday season, but the one bad thing about it was the increased availability of things with angels on them, and ever since he was a rookie and someone remembered that St. Michael the archangel was the patron saint of policemen, he’d been deluged with angels.
Today’s offering was one of those Swedish gizmos with burning candles that made carved wooden angels fly around. Those things were expensive, so someone had invested a lot in the prank. He couldn’t help but laugh, though he figured he’d just let the others think it was because he thought their joke was amusing. At least it was better than all the cherubs he got at Valentine’s Day.
“I guess you like it, huh, Rev?” one of the uniformed officers asked him.
“This was a good one, Jones,” he said, nudging the gadget to the edge of his desk so he could work. The combination of sharing a name with the patron saint of policemen and being the son of a minister and therefore a little more straitlaced than most cops had also given him the nickname of “Rev,” or “the Right Reverend St. Michael.” From what he’d seen happen to other officers, it could have been much, much worse, so he didn’t complain.
“Doesn’t that thing violate the fire code?” Mari asked, throwing her coat on the back of her chair. “And can someone get me some coffee? My hands are too numb to hold the pot.”
Jones perched on the corner of Michael’s desk. “I guess we don’t have to worry about you being out investigating naked women.”
“You saw him bring in a coat,” Mari said. “If he’d seen a naked woman, do you think he’d still have it?”
“Naked women?” Michael couldn’t resist asking.
Jones gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Hey, look at that! He is human! Yeah, apparently the guys in Queens and Staten Island were talking about finding naked chicks on the rocks near the water.”
“You mean like where the seals are?” Mari asked.
Michael didn’t quite catch himself before he uttered an “oh!” of realization. Naked women where one would normally see seals might mean selkies—fairy creatures that could look like humans or like seals. Or it could just be naked women, with nothing at all to do with the fae. This was New York. He’d seen weirder things, not even counting his fae experiences.
To cover up his exclamation, he hurried to add, “In this weather, being naked outside could be dangerous. Maybe there was a bad batch of drugs?”
Jones shrugged. “I dunno. I just know they gave the guys the slip.”
“Ha!” Mari laughed. “I don’t think it was the girls who were doing drugs. Or else these guys’ last dates were so ugly that seals look like beautiful naked women in comparison.”
Officer Ritter came over with a cup of coffee for Mari. “So, what were you two up to if not naked women?”
“Some chick tried to drag a guy into the bushes,” Mari said. “He was out walking his dog, and a woman attacked him, but the dog scared her off.”
“Sounds exciting,” Jones said with a grin.
“It must have been when it happened,” Mari retorted. “We only got there in time to get his statement.”
“Gee, why don’t women want to drag me into the bushes?” Ritter said with an exaggerated sigh.
“You should see what he looks like,” Michael said. “I don’t think you’d want to trade places with him.”
“It’s gonna take at least ten stitches,” Mari added.
The fairy encyclopedia that was building in Michael’s head had suggested a nixie—a kind of fae creature that could look like a beautiful woman or a horrible monster that would lure men to their deaths. Or maybe in this case a crazy chick was just a crazy chick. Either way, the last couple of cases had practically doubled the Central Park violent crime rate for the year.
Realizing they would get no more gossip from Michael and Mari, Jones and Ritter wandered off. Michael turned his attention to his work. His e-mail was full of bulletins about missing people, including two more missing kids. He noted the locations, but he didn’t see a pattern. The adults seemed more like the usual kinds of cases of people whose families started looking for them as the holidays approached.
Mari stood and stretched before grabbing her coat. “Okay, I’m out of here. You coming, Rev?”
“Just need to wrap up some paperwork.”
She reached over to tousle his hair. “You’re such a good boy. But you make the rest of us look bad.” She slipped on her coat and stretched again. “I really hate working nights. I can’t wait to get off this shift. Catch you later, Rev. Don’t stay up all day.”
Michael finished his paperwork, took a moment to straighten his desk, and washed his and Mari’s coffee mugs before getting his coat and heading out. The park was quiet at this time of the morning, especially in this weather. The hardcore joggers were out, as were the dog walkers, but the bitter winds kept most others indoors. That made it more of a surprise when a deep but still female voice called out, “Well, hello, Detective.”
He hadn’t seen Mrs. Smith approach, though he’d have thought that a woman in a brightly colored—and badly clashing—coat and hat pushing an overloaded shopping cart would have been hard to miss. From what he knew of Mrs. Smith, that had nothing to do with the way people treated the homeless as invisible. She wouldn’t be found if she didn’t want to be found. “Good morning, Mrs. Smith,” he said.
“We need to talk. Frankly, I’m a little hurt that you ignored me yesterday morning.”
“What could you have told me that I could have put in a report?”
“Who says I wanted to talk to you in your capacity as a police officer?”
“I was on duty. Anything that happened would have been in my capacity as a police officer.”
“Are you on duty now?”
“I’m on my way home.”
“Good, then we can talk.” He kept walking, but she wheeled her cart around so she could walk alongside him. “What do you think happened yesterday?”
“We’re still waiting on the ME report to see if it might have been foul play.”
“That wasn’t what I asked. What do
you
think happened?”
“I won’t know what I think until I have all the evidence.”
She gave a loud snort that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Oh, so you’re playing it that way now, are you? I’d thought you were too clever to resort to denial after everything you’ve seen.”
With an unexpected burst of anger, he snapped, “What do you want me to say, that I’m pretty sure a kelpie did it? I saw the white horse running across the lake, and I saw enough of the victim’s life to get the impression she might have believed just enough to see it, but didn’t know enough to realize it was dangerous. But even if I admit that, what good does it do? And didn’t you tell me this was your jurisdiction, for this kind of work, anyway?”
“That was when we first met, before I had a better sense of who and what you were. Based on what I saw then, you looked like a full-fledged operator moving in on my territory without so much as a hello. Now I realize that while you’ve got the chops, you’re more of an apprentice, so you should be working with me until you’re ready to fly solo.”
“An apprentice?”
“Frankly, since you struck me as a smart boy, I was expecting you to come to me, asking to learn. But since Mohammad didn’t go to the mountain …”
“I already have a job. I’m a cop. Having the inside scoop on fae activity helps me know what’s really going on, but I don’t have time to train to do anything else.”
“And besides, you thought it was all going to go away, didn’t you? Or you hoped it would. Shut it out, leave it all behind, and go back to the way things were. But sorry, son, you’ve been changed, and it’s not going to go away. You’ve got to deal with things the way they are. And what’s happening is that weird things are invading our world. The kelpie was just one of them. There’s also a nixie running loose.”
“And selkies on the shore,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’m still not sure about the missing kids.”
“Kids are missing and you’re sticking your fingers in your ears and singing the ‘Star-Spangled Banner’?”
“I’m looking into it.” His anger and irritation faded into a kind of weariness that reminded him of the days when he was recovering from a gunshot wound. “So, are more weird things happening now, or am I just learning to see what’s been there all along?”
Her pause was longer than he would have expected from someone who’d approached him with a clear agenda. Finally, she said, “Keep your eyes open. There’s change in the air. This is normally a quiet time of year for any interactions with the fae. It may just be that things settled down in the Realm so we notice the things outside. It could be something rising here. There are lots of fae-related beings that don’t live in the Realm, and a changing of the guard in there won’t affect them. That’s where people like us may have to work with your enchantresses.”
“So selkies in Jamaica Bay, the kelpie incident, a possible nixie in the park, and a lot of missing persons could be signs of something dangerous.”
“Could be. Might be nothing.”
“You’re being unhelpfully vague.”
“Magic isn’t an exact science. That’s what makes it magic.”
“What should I do?”
“Put up your Christmas decorations—the real stuff, no plastic. Where do you think that tradition came from? Dark things sometimes happen at dark times. When the days are short, it’s party time for the things that don’t like daylight.”
“I’m not going to have to start slaying vampires, am I?”
“You’ve seen too many movies.”
“Is there something you and I should be doing about it?”
“As I said, get some green stuff out. That’ll help you. Keep studying. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
They’d nearly reached a park exit. “Do you need a warm place to stay?” he asked.
“What makes you think I don’t have one?”
The fact that she seemed to be carrying around all her worldly goods in a shopping cart was a good sign, but he realized it was an assumption he’d made. For all he knew, she had a Fifth Avenue penthouse and this was just a cover so her society friends wouldn’t notice her work in the park. “Okay then, if you’re set. But I have a sofa if you need it.”
“I don’t think it would be proper. It would ruin my reputation to spend the night alone with a younger man. Good-bye, Detective. Have a nice day.”
He still heard her laugh as she wheeled her cart back into the park. Shaking his head, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and made his way toward a diner where he could get a hot breakfast. An apprentice wise person? That was something to think about. But even if he didn’t take that step, Mrs. Smith was right that when lives were at stake, he couldn’t afford to remain in denial and hide from the truth.
The Antique Shop
1:00 p.m.
“My, this is a surprise,” Athena said when Emily and Beau entered the shop. Her tone of voice said that it wasn’t a surprise at all. Emily had to admit to being relieved that Amelia didn’t seem to be around. It was so much easier to talk to Athena. Amelia could be intimidating. “I’m afraid Amelia had another errand this morning,” Athena added.
“That’s okay. I’m sure you can help me.”
Once he was freed from his leash, Beau headed straight to his bed and went to sleep, and Emily envied him. She managed to hold off spilling her concerns to Athena until the older woman had finished making tea. Finally, after the formal ceremony of tea pouring and pastry offering had been completed, Athena said, “Now, what’s troubling you?”
“I know what’s happening to the dancers,” Emily said, going on to describe what she’d seen the night before. “I couldn’t tell if Eamon really didn’t know what to do about it or just didn’t want to tell me. He acted kind of like it was their right to take us.”
“That is one of the disputes we’ve had with their people over the centuries,” Athena said.
“Well, I can’t imagine Nana going for it. He said he’d talk to her, but maybe we should send Sophie.”
“I’m not sure this is something the queen can control. It’s the natural way of their people.”
“So we should just let them do this, when people don’t even know what they’re wishing for?”
Athena stirred her tea thoughtfully, her lips pursed. “They don’t usually let people come to harm. It may only be dangerous to people who spend their days dancing or if they start living in their dreams and let reality pale.”