The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt (16 page)

“So, what do you think?” Sean asked Pete as he drove him
back to get his car at the bar.

“I think this whole thing is crazy,” Pete replied. “And if I
hadn’t seen those creatures with my own eyes, I would be writing up commitment
papers for your own good.”

Chuckling, Sean nodded. “Well, keep those papers handy,” he
suggested. “This whole thing might drive me crazy yet.”

Pete studied his friend for a moment and then spoke. “So,
what’s next?”

Sean shook his head. “Just like every other crime I’ve
investigated,” he replied. “I gather facts and collect evidence. I figure out means,
motive and opportunity.”

“What about your friend, Adrian?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, seems like he’s caught up in it,” Sean replied. “But
he was a good cop, so that one is a little confusing.”

“Not really,” Pete said. “Think about what he said this
evening. No one that matters got killed, just a bunch of gang-bangers. He could
be convinced that he’s doing a public service by allowing the Wild Hunt to kill
them.”

“But cops aren’t supposed to think that way,” Sean said.
“We’re not the judicial part of the system.
 
We enforce the laws; we bring people to justice and then let the courts
decide.”

Pete shrugged. “Well, I’ve been in enough courtrooms to see
that justice doesn’t always happen,” he said. “If they’ve got a good lawyer, if
the police mess up on procedure, if they can intimidate the witness, they walk
free. I can see a frustrated cop start to take things into his own hands.”

Nodding slowly, Sean looked over at Pete. “Especially if you
have some high-powered, faery friends who can magically take care of things for
you,” he agreed.

“And we can’t rule out that he might be doing this against
his will,” Pete added. “It seems like the fae are known for manipulating
situations for their benefit.”

“Yeah,” Sean said readily. “That makes a lot more sense than
Adrian going bad.”

“Wait a minute, Sean. I know you like the guy,” Pete said.
“But don’t give him the benefit of the doubt too quickly.
 
He seemed pretty happy to report on those
deaths.”

Sean pulled up next to the garage behind the bar and turned
to Pete. “Are you sure you want to drive home tonight?” he asked. “We don’t
know who might be waiting for you.”

“I can handle it,” Pete replied. “I’ve had plenty of people
after me in my line of business. It’s just another case.”

“Yeah, well, this time the folks after you have supernatural
powers,” Sean reminded him. “Watch your back.”

Pete nodded. “I will,” he said. “And if I run into any
problems, I’ll call you.”

Sean grinned. “Make sure you do,” he said.

Sean pulled Pete’s wheelchair out of the trunk and set it
next to the passenger door.
 
Pete grabbed
hold of the arms, lifted himself into it and rolled over to the garage.
 
A small lockbox with punch keys was attached
to the frame of the garage.
 
Pete punched
in a series of numbers and the box opened.
 
Pulling out his keys and a garage door opener, Pete pressed the opener,
then put it back in the box and locked it up.

He rolled into the garage, unlocked the car and was soon
sitting behind the driver’s seat.

“Be safe,” Sean called, standing next to his car.

Pete nodded. “Yeah, and if I call, remember to bring your
new sword,” he replied with a laugh.

Sean looked down at the sword
laying
on the floor of his car and nodded. “You’ve got it,” he said.

Waiting until Pete had pulled out of the
garage,
Sean walked over, pressed the button on the garage and waited for the large
door to close.
 
Then he climbed back into
his car and drove down the alley towards Pershing Avenue.
 
Once he was on Pershing and headed home, he
saw a sign for an all-night donut shop and remembered his nightly appointment.

“Well, damn, I almost forgot,” he muttered, turning into the
drive-through lane.

“I need a large tea with extra cream and honey,” he ordered.
“And two blueberry muffins.”

A few minutes later he was back on the road headed to Lower
Wacker Drive and his nightly rendezvous with Hettie.

Pete circled the block a couple of times, just to be sure he
wasn’t being followed and then finally drove into the secured parking garage
adjacent to his high-rise.
 
He pushed the
security card into the reader, and the barrier to the garage opened smoothly,
allowing him to drive through, and then closed quickly behind him.
 
His parking spot was located in a bright area
right next to the entrance to the lobby, so he wasn’t worried about thugs
waiting for him there.

Rolling into the lobby, he greeted the night watchman.
“How’s school going, Jeff?” he asked the young man who was a law student by day
and a security guard by night.

“Great, Mr. O’Bryan,” he replied with a wide smile. “Are you
working late on a case?”

Pete nodded. “Yeah, I am,” he said, pausing before the guard
desk. “And it’s one of those cases where a little extra caution isn’t a bad
idea.”

Jeff’s eyes widened. “Do you think you’re in danger?” he
asked.

Biting back a smile at the young man’s enthusiasm, Pete
shook his head. “Not if we’re both alert,” Pete replied. “Can I count on you?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” Jeff said. “If I hear anything, I’ll call
the police.”

Pete stopped on his way towards the elevator and looked over
his shoulder. “Do you still have the phone number for Detective Sean O’Reilly?”
he asked. “I gave it to you a couple of months ago.”

Accessing his computer, Jeff looked up and nodded. “Yes,
it’s right here,” he said.

“If anything happens, call Sean,” Pete said. “I’m not sure
who the bad guys and who the good guys are on this case.
 
I know Sean’s a good guy.”

“Got it,” Jeff said. “I’ll call him.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” Pete said. “Have a good night.”

The elevator opened, and Pete pushed the button for the
Penthouse Suite. Then he inserted his passkey into the elevator controls to
allow the elevator access to the top floor.
 
In a few short moments, the doors opened into his suite.
 
Pete pulled out his key and rolled out, then
sent the elevator back down to the first floor.

His alarm system controls were next to the door. Scanning
the readout for any irregularities, Pete felt a modicum of relief that nothing
was out of the ordinary.
 
He punched in
his alarm code and deactivated it before rolling into his apartment.

The large picture windows in the front of his apartment
looked out over the bright skyline of downtown Chicago and the dark depths of
Lake Michigan.
 
He placed his briefcase
on the table behind the couch and rolled into the kitchen to pull a sparkling
water out of the refrigerator.
 
All he
wanted to do right now was take a hot shower, change into sweats and relax.

He took a swig of the water, placed it in the cup holder in
his wheelchair and rolled to his bedroom.
 
The view from the bedroom was just as impressive as the one from the
front room, the lights from the city sparkling in the distance. French doors in
the middle of the wall led to a small balcony that he rarely used, and large
picture windows stood on either side. He pressed a button on a control panel
near the door, and vertical blinds began to automatically move across the
window.
 
He pressed another switch that
flooded the room with soft light.
 

He was instantly on alert when he felt a rush of wind in the
room.
 
Who the hell opened the French doors?

He started forward when he caught sight of a movement in his
bed.

“Hello, Pete.”

He automatically reached for the gun he carried in an inner
pocket of his wheelchair and pulled it out. “Who the hell are you?” he growled.

She sat up in his bed, her red hair flowing nearly to her
waist and his silk sheet barely covering her naked body. She ran her tongue
over her upper lip and smiled. “I’m your fantasy,” she whispered. “I can make
all of your dreams come true.”

He laughed harshly while he secretly pressed the speed dial
for Sean’s phone. “Lady, I don’t think so,” he said. “Now, why don’t you tell
me why you are really here?”

“Pete,” she purred, running a hand along the bed. “As you
can see, I’m totally unarmed. Why don’t you climb up here and we can get better
acquainted.”

“Thanks, but I don’t really like aggressive women who show
up in my apartment unannounced,” he said. “It takes away a lot of the mystery.”

She dropped the sheet and let it fall to her waist. “Some
men don’t like mystery.”

He had to admit, she was very attractive.
Inhumanly
so.
And he was surprised to find himself intrigued and even tempted.

“So, what are you? A faery whore?” he asked.

The comment hit home as her green eyes narrowed and her
smile disappeared.

“You would do well to show some respect,” she spat.

“I don’t have a lot of respect for women who use their
bodies to manipulate men.”

She lay back against the pillows, the sheet dropping even
further and she raised her arms over her head. “Tell me you aren’t tempted,”
she whispered.

He shrugged, trying to maintain an outwardly calm façade while
he mentally fought with his own desires. “So, how old would you be now?” he
asked with a grimace. “I mean, would this be like making love with my
great-great-great-grandmother or something like that?”

She hissed at him and leapt out of the bed in one graceful
move. “Does your great-grandmother look like this?” she screamed.

Damn,
he thought,
clenching his jaw so it didn’t drop open at the sight of her naked body in
front of him.
 
She was beyond beautiful, she was flawless.
 
Every curve, every inch of alabaster skin was
begging to be touched and enjoyed.

Her eyes widened as though she could read his mind. “Pete,”
she coaxed. “I could give you everything.
 
I could make you walk again.”

He felt a tingle in the muscles of his legs and looked down
in shock.
“How?”

“I have powers beyond that of your human doctors,” she
breathed as she came closer, stroking a hand down his chest. “You could sweep
me up in your arms and carry me away to lavender fields where we could make
love all day long.
 
You could run again.”

She slipped her hand lower, to his abdomen. “You could be a
whole man again.”

He looked up at her and seemed to forget why he was afraid,
why he had been cautious. She was only a beautiful woman, a woman who wanted
him, and he wanted her.

She smiled at him, stepped back and held out her arms.
“Stand up, Pete,” she said. “Stand up and take what’s yours.”

He looked down at his legs and saw in amazement that he
could actually flex his feet.
 
The
shrapnel from the IED had severed his spinal cord, but somehow, he could feel
his feet again. Bracing his hands on the arms of his wheelchair, he slipped his
feet from the footplates onto the wood floor.

He nearly cried in astonishment as he felt the pressure from
the floor against his feet. He could feel them. He could feel the pain of the
atrophied muscles coming back to life.
 
He could feel the blood moving through his calves, making them burn with
pain.
 
But it was an amazing pain!

He straightened up and stood.
 
For the first time in nearly ten years, he
was standing on his own.

She moved up to him, sliding her arms up around his neck,
pressing her body against his own.
 
She
smelled like summertime and sex. He felt the hunger and the heat.
 
He felt his heart race and his passions
stir.
 
He wanted her. No, he needed
her.
 
Just as he needed the air to
breathe, he needed to make her his own.
 
He needed—

“What the hell?” Sean yelled from the bedroom doorway.

Like a dousing of cold water, Pete was pulled back to
reality. The room seemed to be spinning, and he reached out.
 
But there was no one there.
 
He looked around, gasping for air.\

He wasn’t standing, he realized, he was sitting on the
floor, his useless legs flailed out in front of him and his wheelchair
collapsed on the ground.

“What?” he cried. “What happened?”

Sean stepped between Pete and the faerie –, his sword
glowing with fire. “I think it’s time you left,” he said to the faerie, pulling
a small, cork-topped bottle from his pocket. “Does holy water really scar the
faces of faeries, or is that just a fable?”

“It’s just a fable, mortal,” she replied, stepping away from
him. “You put that away or I will curse you.”

Shrugging, Sean stepped closer to her. “I don’t believe
you,” he said. He lifted the bottle to his mouth, pulled out the cork with his
teeth and spit the cork across the room. “I guess there’s only one way to find
out,” he said.

Screaming, she jumped out onto the patio and threw herself
over the balcony into the night sky.

Sean laid the sword and bottle down then turned and knelt
next to his friend who was stone-faced and staring at his fallen wheelchair.
“She made me believe I could stand,” Pete whispered hoarsely. “She made me
think I could be a whole man again.”

Sean had never known how much hate he could have for any
creature until that moment.
 
She had
preyed upon his friend, used his deepest desires and manipulated them to
destroy him.

Placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder, Sean took a deep
breath. “Who the hell told you that you aren’t a whole man?” Sean asked.

“Listen, asshole, I can’t stand up,” Pete yelled.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Sean yelled back. “That doesn’t make you
any less of a man.
 
I see bastards out
there every day who can walk on both legs who will never measure up to the man
you are. Don’t let some faery whore get into your head, man.”

Pete chuckled. “She wasn’t real happy when I called her
that.”

“Yeah, I floored the accelerator after that comment. I
thought for sure you were going to be toast,” Sean agreed with a grin. “And
then the making love to your great-great-great-grandmother.
Charming.”

“I know how to flatter the ladies,” Pete replied, and then
he exhaled loudly and turned to Sean. “Thanks for saving me from the crypt
keeper.”

“Hey, no problem,” he replied, reaching over and pulling
Pete’s chair next to him.

“Good thing you were carrying holy water,” Pete said as he
maneuvered himself back into his chair.

“Father Jack gave it to me this afternoon,” Sean replied.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to get some for you. But now we need to faery-proof
your apartment.”

“Do you think she’ll be back?” Pete asked.

Sean met his friend’s eyes. “I think this war has just
begun.”