Ghost Light (5 page)

“Hey, girl,” she said.  “Let’s go,
hiccup
, dancing!”

“Dancing,” I said.  “Seriously?  I doubt you can even walk.”

I imagined myself stumbling down Joysen Hill carrying my tall friend all the way home.  The Old Port was a long walk from here and if I had to carry Jinx, my arms and legs would be useless in a fight.  Running would also be impossible.  I’d have to stumble down The Hill slow and defenseless.  I grunted and sat back on my heels.

I raked a hand through my hair and pushed it out of my face while examining my friend.  This wasn’t the first time I’d seen Jinx drink too much, but she didn’t usually get this trashed.  Oh shit.

“I asked you to protect her,” I said.  I looked over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at the clurichaun, and pointed at Jinx.  “What did you give her?”

Turning back to Jinx, I nudged her with my knee.

“Hey, wake up,” I said.  “Did you drink faerie wine?”

I’d drilled three things into Jinx’s head since I learned about faeries, demons, and the undead.  Never give your blood to a vampire.  Never sell your soul to a demon.  If you find yourself in the Otherworld, do not eat or drink anything.  And don’t ever, EVER drink faerie wine.

Okay, that was four things.  So sue me.

The point was that breaking these basic rules was worse than death.  Letting a vamp drink from you, no matter how beautiful you think they are—and trust me beneath their glamour vamps are not sexy—results in addiction.  The experience is so pleasurable, due to a combination of vamp pheromones and chemicals in their saliva, that many humans become addicts after only a few bites.  The result is to become a hapless blood slave, passed around the vampire community like a bottle of cheap beer.

Selling your soul to a demon is even worse.  No matter how good the bargain, you’ll be headed to Hell sooner or later.  Capital H, e, double hockey sticks.  It’s not a nice place to visit and you’ll be a full-time resident for eternity—a slave to demons.  And demons?  They’re not called horny because of those protrusions on their heads.

Eating or drinking while in the Otherworld holds a similar fate.  Humans who eat or drink enough faerie food become addicts trapped in the faerie realm.  Even if they escape, food from our world turns to ash on their tongues.  Faerie wine is stronger than any human draught and is rumored to have the most addicting effects even if the smallest glass of the stuff is imbibed.  To drink faerie wine is to become a slave to one of the faerie courts—a plaything for bored immortals.

I’d been told that the boundaries of Faerie had been sealed, but there were always loopholes and Jinx was unlucky enough to fall into one.  If the clurichaun’s bolt-hole was a gateway to Faerie, Jinx could have drunk faerie wine without realizing what she’d done.  If she had, would she become an addict forced to live in Faerie?

I stood up, hands shaking, and nudged Jinx again with my boot.

“Did. You. Drink. Faerie. Wine?” I asked.

“Beer,” she mumbled.  “Lots and lots of beer.”

“Is that true?” I asked, glaring at the clurichaun.

“’Tis true,” he said, nodding.

I leaned in, sniffing at Jinx’s clothes.  She didn’t smell like wine.  Before I could straighten, Jinx burped in my face.

“Oberon’s eyes,” I said, wrinkling my nose.  “You smell like a brewery.”

Jinx giggled.  I wanted to kick her, but instead crossed my arms and glared down my nose.

“That’s ‘cause we were in a brewery,” she said.  “This guy’s hiding spot is in the basement of Old Shoal’s brewery.”

It sounded like she said “bashement o’ Old Shhhhoalsh bwewewy,” but I got the idea.  My friend had been in her version of Heaven, surrounded by kegs of microbrew beer.  She’d been partying in the basement of a local brewery, not Faerie.  I shook my head and nudged her again with my boot.

“Come on,” I said.  “Get up.  We need to get you home before full dark.”

I hesitated, then reached down and pulled Jinx upright.  I grit my teeth and slid an arm under her shoulders for support.  Most of my skin was covered in leather and denim, but all it took was a small patch of bare skin to trigger a vision.  This made carrying my roommate far from ideal.  If I got slammed with a vision from Jinx’s past, it would be her fault, but I hoped that could be avoided.  We didn’t need any more delays.

“What about my bags?” she asked.

Jinx looked so sad and lost, I melted just a little.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

Jinx shrugged me off and stepped forward.  She was wobbly, but remained upright.

“See, I’m fine,” she said.

She staggered and started to fall backward.  Crap.

“Here, take these,” I said.  I passed Jinx a fistful of shopping bags for each hand, careful to keep her balanced.  I had a feeling I’d need my hands free.  “Ready?”

Jinx managed to nod without falling over.  We were making progress.

“Thanks, I guess, for keeping her safe,” I said to the clurichaun.

I tried not to grump, much.  I hadn’t included a clause regarding Jinx drinking alcohol, so he hadn’t done anything to breach our agreement.  The faerie had held up his end of the bargain.  I could feel the debt between us heavy on my shoulders.  I almost hoped he called in his favor soon.  I’d have to work a case for free, but that was better than this feeling.

“Safe travels,” the clurichaun said.

He waved a stubby hand, smiling eyes gazing over the spectacles he wore on his red, bulbous nose.

“Safe travels,” I said.

I sighed and pushed Jinx out the door and into the night.

“Oh, crap,” Jinx said, pulling to a halt.

“What?” I asked.  “Did you leave something back at the shop?”

“I forgot about my date with Hans,” she said.  Jinx frowned at her feet and started to pitch forward.  “Guess I won’t be going out dancing.”

Her words were so slurred it sounded like she said, “guesh I won’t be going out danshing” so I was pretty sure she wasn’t making it out on the dance floor tonight.  Jinx was clumsy when she was stone cold sober.  Drunk she’d be a menace.

“What’s Hans’ number?” I asked.  “I’ll call and tell him you can’t make it.”

She blinked at me and stuck her tongue into her cheek.

“It’s in my phone,” she said.

Jinx dropped the shopping bags to the sidewalk and fumbled for her phone.  I didn’t want to touch it, but I wanted to get this over with.  I reached for the phone with thumb and index finger and scrolled through her contacts list.  I found Hans’ number and hit call.

“You’re early, woman,” Hans said.

Woman?
  Mab’s bones, I wanted to shove the phone down the Hunter’s oversized, Nordic throat.

“Um, this is Ivy Granger, Jinx’s friend,” I said.  “Jinx has to cancel her date tonight.”

“Why would she cancel and why are you the one to call?” he asked.  “I know she doesn’t have to work late.  Jinx had this afternoon off.  I checked.”

They’d only gone out on a couple of dates and already this guy was keeping tabs on my best friend?  I held the phone so tight I’m surprised it didn’t explode into dust.

“Look, Hans, she had a few too many drinks with a clurichaun,” I said.  “Give the girl a break.”

“She was drinking with a clurichaun?” he asked.  Hans started breathing heavy and his tone was menacing.  “With a FAERIE?  That worthless bi…”

“Get over yourself,” I said.

Hans made a strangled sound and spit.  The guy had the temperament of a berserker and was known for his rages in the heat of battle.  But he wasn’t in battle now and he was talking about my friend.

Apparently, Hans thought the only good faerie was a dead faerie.  Some Hunters are like that, a fact I’d be smart to remember.  I’d become used to Kaye and Jenna’s acceptance of my half-breed status, but thinking that all Hunters would be as accepting of my kind was foolish.

If I’d known the guy had such a hard-on for faeries, I never would have mentioned the clurichaun.  Though I can’t say I’m completely sorry.  The Hunter was bad news.  If he got this enraged at the thought of Jinx sharing a drink with a clurichaun, what would he do when he found out her best friend, roommate, and business partner was a wisp princess?

“Tell that faerie lover she can lose my number,” he said.

Hans hung up and I handed Jinx back her phone.

“He cool?” she asked.

Jinx was smiling and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that her boyfriend was a racist dick.  She’d be better off hearing about the phone call when she was sober.  It could wait.

“Sure, he’s cool,” I said, as Jinx picked up the shopping bags she’d dropped and we started our descent down the hill.

Hans was cool alright.  His heart was cool as the blade of cold iron I wanted to skewer him with.

Chapter 5

G
etting home had been a trial, but we were still in one piece.  I couldn’t say the same for Jinx’s footwear.  She’d puked into one of her shopping bags before making it home, fouling a brand new pair of shoes. And the platform sandals she’d been wearing?  Those she threw into the harbor saying they were hard to walk in.  Yeah, it couldn’t have had anything to do with the keg of beer she drank.

When my roommate woke up, she wasn’t going to be happy with herself.  A grin slid across my face.  Maybe destroying two of her treasured pairs of shoes would teach her a lesson.

Jinx slept, snores echoing from her room.  I was tempted to bang around the kitchen, but settled for leaving the bag of shoes, the ones with sick all over them, in her bedroom.  Oh sweet revenge.

I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, dropped a note on the kitchen counter, and slid out of the loft apartment we shared.  As much as I’d love to see Jinx’s face when she woke up, I had questions that needed answering.

I considered going to see Jenna, but shook my head.  No, hunters keep odd hours.  My teacher, and sometimes backup, would probably be out prowling the streets for rogue supernaturals.  Woe the creature she caught feasting on a human.  Jenna might only be one-hundred pounds soaking wet, but the petite redhead was whip fast, armed, and deadly.

Instead, I turned right onto Water Street avoiding the drunks lingering in doorways or staggering to the next seedy bar or raucous pub.  It would be just my luck to avoid being hit by Jinx’s sick, only to have a stranger puke on me.  Ah, the joys of living in the Old Port.  I hunched forward, hands in jacket pockets, and walked faster.

I took Wharf Street and started to relax slightly.  The bar crowd tended to stick to the sidewalks here, avoiding the cobbled street.  “Ankle twisters” Jinx called cobbles and for good reason.  I’d stuck to the comparatively smooth, brick sidewalks myself while guiding Jinx home, but now I strode down the center of the road, only stepping to the side when a car entered the narrow, one-way street.

At the top of the hill, I rang the buzzer beside the door of The Emporium.  The store was closed, but Kaye never left the place unprotected.  Someone or something manned the door, ready to carry a message back to their boss.  I preferred coming to the store during business hours when Arachne, Kaye’s human employee, ran the shop.  Visiting after hours was…unpredictable.

I think Kaye liked playing with her visitors just as much as she enjoyed toying with her employees.  Bothering the witch at night only added to her fun.  I suppose I should be glad she didn’t blast me into dust for the intrusion.

I waited, itching to press the buzzer again, but not wanting to push my luck.  I raked a gloved hand through my hair and sighed.  Patience was not my strong suit and, in my defense, it had been a very long day.  As my sigh puffed out to mix with cool night air, I heard a scratching sound overhead.

I held my breath and listened, slowly tilting my head back to look up.  I untangled my hands from my hair and lowered them to hip height, keeping my arms loose and hands ready to receive my knives.

Click, click, scratch.

There it was again, like claws tapping and scratching at stone.  And it was definitely coming from above, not from the street below.  That ruled out a human taking their dog for a walk.  No, this was not a normal city sound at all.

The door to The Emporium stood at the corner of the building, walls towering overhead and roads running back at angles to the left and right.  I scanned the stone and brick walls, searching for what was making the sound.  My mouth fell open at the sight of a gargoyle crawling down the building toward me, stone nails clicking on brick, stone, and mortar.  Though the creature must weigh a ton, it moved with surprising agility and speed—like a bat out of Hell.

A giggle rose in my throat and I snorted.  The idiom was apt.  Bat-like wings sprouted from the back of the demonic form.  If the faerie hadn’t been made of stone, I might have wondered if it was indeed Hellspawn—a bat demon rushing out of Hell and straight at me.

The gargoyle’s face was grotesque, an amalgam of canine, bat, and goat.  Rams horns rose from its head and large teeth protruded from a rounded snout.  The teeth were impressive, but I focused on the muscled arms and legs racing toward me, each ending in sharp claws—claws that rent through brick and stone.

I longed to palm my knives, but traffic continued to swish past on my right and left, humans oblivious to the creature rushing toward me.  Not to mention the futility of stabbing a gargoyle with a common blade.  If I resorted to violence, I’d have to wait for the gargoyle to suffer the effects of iron poisoning from the iron tips of my knives.  I didn’t think I’d survive that long.

I blinked away stone dust, and risked a glance at Kaye’s door.  I shouldn’t have to face the gargoyle alone.  Where was the doorman?  Unless…  Could the gargoyle be working for Kaye?

When dealing with the supernatural it can be difficult to tell friend from foe.  The best indication of enemy is when the creature with big teeth tries to eat you.  And I wasn’t about to wait that long.  I had no desire to be a gargoyle’s chew toy.

I also didn’t want to disembowel one of Kaye’s employees, if the creature was in fact working for the witch.  I had a nagging suspicion that doing so would piss her off.  With only seconds left before the beast was on top of me, I did the one thing I could do.  I screamed at the wall.