Here Be Monsters [2] (3 page)

He smiled, but he still looked worried. "What do I do?"

"You kill any more stories about it. One thing the populace can be counted on is having no memory. If it's out of sight, they'll forget about it. But you have to make sure your people keep a low profile on this."
 

"Captain!" a uniformed man stepped up to the door. He looked at Siobhan and smiled before he pointed to the Captain's phone. "It's Rechert and Sivalis. They found another body. Elf. Drained of blood."
 

Miller closed his eyes and moaned.
 

Siobhan watched the uniform step out as the Captain picked up his blinking line. "Miller."
 

She listened in on the conversation with her heightened hearing. Not that she was nosy. It just happened.
Couldn't be helped.

"Captain. It's Sivalis. Got a call on a body found in an alley behind Pete's Gourmet. Definitely elven, and it's been drained of blood. And…we got a little problem."

"You mean other than the dead elf?" Miller avoided Siobhan's eyes.

"There was a reporter here when we got here. Chicago Sun Tribune. And he's already photographed the body."

Miller cursed. "Lemme guess. Keith Song."
 

Siobhan had to stop herself from cursing aloud so Miller wouldn't know she was listening in. Keith Song. By far the worst of the sensationalist reporters in the city. His website and his affiliate's site were one of the top hits online. If he had the pictures, then he'd already made up his story. She needed to check the sites to see if something had gone up, and then she needed to have a little talk with Mr. Song.
 

But she needed to contact Aby first and have him look at the body. He'd be able to tell if the elf had been UnSeleighe.

"Is the M.E. there?"
 

Yes. So's the bus. Anything you want me to do?
 

"Yeah, make sure you don't let any tall, leaf-eat'n red-headed freaks take a look—"
 

"Captain—you talk'n about Geld? No. There's been no sign of him. Which is weird since he's showed up at all the other scenes."
 

Siobhan turned quickly and looked at Miller. Abyssinian wasn't there? That was odd. The elf had a police scanner—he kept track of everything. And if an elf turned up drained of blood again—

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. No texts. No voicemail.
 

She was done with the Captain and vanished before he could register he was alone in the office. She moved with an uncanny speed that made her invisible to the human eye. Once she reached her Ducati parked below, Siobhan checked the Tribune's website on her phone—no story up yet—only the promise of a breaking event. She checked Song's website. Nothing there as well—just the same promise.
 

After hitting Aby's speed dial, she left him a message to call her. It'd gone straight to voicemail—which either meant he was out of range of her signal, or his phone was off. Or—he was still in Underhill where no cell phone reached.
 

Surely he couldn't still be there
. Two hours had passed since he'd left her in the park, and returning the child couldn't have taken that long either.
 

She adored that elf in so many ways, except for this part of him. This impulsive, self-serving part of him that believed he had to take care of everything himself. And if he knew about Song there a possibility he was already hunting him to retrieve whatever it was the reporter had—

She donned her helmet, checked traffic and took off in the direction of where she believed Keith Song would be.
 

- 4 -

This was the first Abyssinian had ever heard of this. And he didn't believe it. Assuming this was some fable spun by Thom, he sighed and leaned back against a row of tombs. "Thom—"
 

But the changeling held up a hand without looking at Abyssinian. "Listen to me, Son of Calder. This Dark Court worked powerful magic that the elves of what was called the Higher Court couldn't battle, and when the elven King sealed the cairns to the human realm to prevent them from taking any more humans, the Fallen cast this world into a winter of snow and ice.
 

"Many of the elves died from illnesses they had never had. Their magicians worked night and day to end the spell over the world. Magic clashed everywhere. It was a year of darkness. A year of suffering. Until finally, a young changeling named Merlin was able to counter the spells by cursing the Dark Court themselves."
 

"Merlin?" Abyssinian laughed softly. "You want me to believe that
the
Merlin was a changeling?"
 

"I want you to listen to me, Aby," Thom turned angry eyes to the young prince. "His name was Merlin. That's what the records say. The spell he cast prevented the Dark Court from walking under the light of Underhill without suffering devastating burns and weakness. So they made a truce—they would remove the spell and escape into another realm to claim as their own."
 

"Not walk in the sun…" Aby felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Like Vampires. "Thom, what are you saying?"
 

"I'm saying the Dark Court did two things underhanded," he turned to Abyssinian. "The realm they escaped to was none other than the human realm—the one realm the King, your father, had forbidden them to enter. The cairns were locked, but somehow they broke the magics. And two…" he sighed. "They were able to cast a secret spell when they lifted the snow."
 

"A secret spell?"

"All of those born in that decade of Winter were…
different
. It was their eyes at first. Their color became something not in nature as the elves knew it. And they all possessed an uncanny ability with magic. Even in their cribs they changed the shape of things, and many wounded their parents and siblings without knowing what they were doing. The King gathered all these children at the insistence of his advisors and placed them into the abandoned palaces where the Dark Court had lived.
 

"The Black Guard was created to make sure these other
cursed elven children
didn't attack the High Court. Humans were brought in to care for them. Some humans died from the children's wild magic."
 

Aby straightened up and stared at Thom.
 

"Unfortunately—the king's solution wasn't enough. There were those that believed those children should be destroyed. They were the seeds of the Fallen. This split the Higher Court in two. And they fought amongst themselves." He fixed his gaze on Abyssinian. "The side that wanted the children destroyed called themselves the blessed, or the Seleighe, and they dubbed those that believed otherwise, the UnSeleighe."
 

"Thom, this is ridiculous."
 

Thom held up his hand. "Listen to me, Aby. Even though the Fallen were gone, the strife and war they instigated in Underhill remained and lasted for nearly a century. In the end, those that defended the children joined them in the fallen cities. The division was made—and has remained till this day."
 

"And those original children?"
 

"They were called the Winterbourne. Born in the Winter of Underhill. Their children also possessed these powers."
 

"And the Fallen? The ones that escaped into the human realm."

"Most are dead." Thom swept his hand around the room. "And in here are the soldiers sent by your father to kill them. In here he had those who lost their lives fighting them in the human realm. This is how your father died—killing the Fallen."
 

"What?"
 

"Your brother was his right hand, and continued his work. He built this mausoleum in their memory."
 

"My brother?" Aby looked around at the tombs. Was this why this mausoleum had always remained sealed? Because those whose bodies were interned inside had fought their own holy war against the Fallen? "Why—why did my father send elves out to destroy the Fallen? They were gone from Underhill, weren't they? Why pursue them?"
 

"Other than the fact they were cruel and wicked and brought corruption on the humans?" Thom looked skeptical. "Because they hurt him, Aby. They hurt your father. Twice. The first was they killed your mother."
 

Aby felt his shoulder sag. "W-what?"

"They dragged her into the Mortal Realm and fed on her."
 

"Fed—they drank from her."

"Drained her."
 

"But vampires can't feed on elves—it's poison."
 

"The descendants can't. But the Fallen can."
 

Aby ran a hand through his hair. "This is madness."

Thom said. "The Fallen learned they could stave off the pain of their long lives by feeding off of human blood—which of course contains life. And they experimented—making creatures in their own image."
 

"Only they're not," Aby guessed. "The vampires we see now—"

"Are diluted. Weak. Only shadows of the strength and power the Fallen once possessed. When it appeared to Oberon as if they would breed their kind to excessive numbers," he shrugged. "He had them destroyed."
 

Abyssinian didn't know what to believe—was this true? Was it really possible vampires descended from elves? "But the vampires have their own lineage—their own history."
 

"Of course they do. Created by the Fallen. They had no idea that their elders were actually elves. But the Fallen could drink from the Winterbourne, and did so in order to walk in the day." He took a step forward. "That's why the Winterbourne, the UnSeleighe, vanished. The great exodus? It was orchestrated by the Fallen. They lured them into the Mortal Realm and kept them as cattle—vials of elixir that gave them dominion over the day. That's why Oberon hunted them down. He went after them for the same reason your father did."

"You said they hurt my father—twice. My mother and—"

"And you. She had you that year. You were banished to the Dark Court by his own command."

Aby stared hard at Thom. "Are you saying…I'm a Winterbourne?"
 

"You are. In fact, Abyssinian," Thom turned and faced him. "Your brother found you and killed the ones that took you into the Mortal Realm. You were half dead, but he brought you back here."
 

Aby had stood up, no longer leaning against the wall. He took a step toward Thom who didn't flinch or move. "Thom…this is bullshit. I'm not a Winterbourne. I'm not what you think I am."
 

But Thom shook his head. "Your eyes give you away. Your very stature and your bearing. Your strong, wild magic. They speak of royalty—because even though you were relegated to the UnSeleighe realm—you were still the King's son. And you were protected."

"Because supposedly my blood will allow a Fallen to walk in the sun." Aby laughed. He hoped it came out as a confident laugh, and that it conveyed a sense of how ridiculous the idea was. Though he knew part of it was true. Siobhan had walked in the day.

If Thom even suspected that Abyssinian was aware of his blood's power—

"Aye," Thom said as he moved closer, his shoulders down, his expression said. "And because we suspect that not just the Fallen, but all of their kith could benefit from your blood. Merlin suspected the Fallen set the spell in motion early on so that it would some how create a cure for the curse he put on them. The Winterbourne were to be their salvation."
 

"No. This is ridiculous."
 

"Aby—" Thom stepped out. "When Oberon learned some of the Fallen had survived, he sent out the Black Guard to assassinate them. This was years ago. He learned they were searching for UnSeleighe to feed from. They were looking for Winterbourne."
 

But Aby was shaking his head. "No—Oberon never told me all of this."

"He was trying to protect you."

He moved away from Thom toward the door of the tomb. "I have other matters that I need to see to in the mortal realm. Or has no one told you that someone is killing elves again—even with my brother behind bars?"
 

"Abyssinian," Thom called out behind him. "I suspect that it wasn't Oberon that killed the ones you and the vamp whore discovered. I think that—"
 

But Aby was at his throat before Thom could draw another breath to speak. The tall, slender elf had his hand around the Changeling's throat and cut off his air. Thom tried to pry Aby's hand away but did not have the strength. He was only human. "You will never call Siobhan a whore again—do I make myself clear?"
 

Their eyes met and Aby realized Thom was looking at him as if he were looking at a monster. And maybe to the human, he was one. If he
was
one of these Winterbourne, then he was more than elf. Which would explain his strength as well as his ability in magic. He was alien even among his people.
 

But then…he'd always felt like this.
 

Abyssinian released Thom and stepped back. "I'm sorry—but you won't insult an honorable woman and the former lover of Oberon."
 

The Changeling leaned heavily against a crypt, choking and pulling in air. After a few seconds, he laughed. It was a strained sound. "So you've bedded her as well, Abyssinian. You and your brother have indeed shared much."
 

Now he had his katana drawn and his left hand tingled as he instinctually conjured a shield around him for protection. "Why are you trying to goad me?"
 

"Because," Thom straightened and moved around the shield which flickered indigo in the light cast from the stained glass. "I needed to know if you already knew what your blood could do. And if a vampire knew." He paused as he neared the door. "I have my answer."