Authors: Liz de Jager
Tags: #Fairies, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Magic, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Young Adult
He doesn’t even appear to think about it but just nods his head. ‘Yes, I agree. We keep this weirdness quiet and then deal with it when the case is solved.’
‘Do you think you’ll be able to cope?’
‘I’ve managed thus far, haven’t I?’ He smiles but his smile isn’t very big. ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to pretend to be human for a little while
longer.’
‘That’s not . . .’ I roll my eyes at him. ‘You’re full of it.’
A shudder passes through him and he grips the table for support.
‘Man, that was weird. It felt like the whole building just shook all around me.’
‘Finish your food and get back to bed.’
‘Yes, miss.’
He dutifully finishes his food but watches me as I push mine around on the plate.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I need to get home. And talk to Kyle and see what info he’s dug up. He’s been looking into other children who have gone missing in the same way these kids have. Then I want to
research more about the creatures I found in Aunt Letty’s books. Then I’ll swing by in the morning and come check up on you.’ Which reminds me. ‘Dante, why are you the only
person living here? I thought you said there were other agents here.’
‘Ah, I wondered how long it would take you to spot that.’ He sighs, hunching his shoulders. ‘I’m the only new agent working for HMDSDI at the moment. They had two other
recruits who shared the space with me, but neither did well when they came face to face with a bunch of faeries eating a homeless person. Goblins, you know. Nasty things.’
I curl my lip in distaste. Goblins and redcaps – I really disliked those guys. ‘Why did you lie?’
‘I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me. And my superiors weren’t keen to reveal how few of us there were.’
I open my mouth to ask him what he means but then I get it. ‘How many are there in the SDI?’
‘Five of us, at the moment. Including me. I’m the most junior person.’
Suddenly I understand why Dante’s running this case by himself, why he’s so new at some things.
‘You’ve not really had much training, have you?’
‘I’ve studied,’ he replies defensively. ‘We have books. I’ve been out on a few jobs with the other agents. I’ve done a few, so I’m not entirely
clueless.’
I grin at him. ‘I didn’t say you were clueless.’
‘Your eyes implied.’
‘Shut up. Go to bed.’
I hastily clean up the kitchen and load the dishwasher. Stuffing my papers and camera into the bag, I wander into Dante’s room. He’s propped up against the headboard with two duvets
covering him. He holds the ring box in his hands and turns it towards me so I can see the moonstone ring. It gleams impossibly brightly in the soft light of the bedside lamp.
‘Do you think it’s genuine? I mean, do you think it’s the same ring Eadric had?’
‘I think it’s a similar ring to Eadric’s, but I’ve never seen the real thing so I don’t know.’
‘Is there a way we can find out?’
I look from him to the box. ‘Only way would be to talk to someone in the family.’
‘Would that be possible?’
I shrug. ‘I’m not sure that’s advisable right now.’
He smiles at me but he’s shivering so much his teeth click together and he burrows down.
‘Thanks for hanging out with me and for not telling anyone about, you know, me.’
I wave my hand.
‘I’ll call you in the morning. Try not to blow anything up.’
Instead of going home I head to Milton’s. Rorke grunts at me from his position at the door and scowls.
‘You’re early, what’s going on?’
‘Is Miron here? I need a quick word.’
‘If you can get past the twins, you can go up.’
It’s not time for the club to be open yet. The staff are all present and in the process of tidying and getting ready for the night as I walk in. There’s something very unglamorous
about a club when the lights are all on, revealing the sticky floor, the slightly scuffed tables and the ratty chairs. Nothing looks magical at all, not even any of the supernatural creatures doing
their chores. It looks a bit sad and I wander past them and return the few nods I get. I spot the DJ on his little stage.
‘I love your music,’ I call out to him.
He looks up with a smile and edges past his decks.
‘Cheers. I’ve seen you and your friend around. You come here often enough for Philippe to worry when you don’t show.’ He drops down onto the stage so he can swing his
legs off the side.
I smile at him. ‘I’m Kit, by the way.’
‘I’m Torsten. Really nice to meet you, Kit.’ He has a slight accent, maybe German, maybe French? His smile is friendly as he shakes my hand. His eyes are a vibrant green framed
by dark lashes, but I can’t decide on his hair colour. It looks red with shocks of gold highlights, as if he spends time in the sun, and I wonder if it’s natural or dyed. ‘What
are you doing here?’
‘I’m hoping to find Miron.’
A flash of
something
crosses Torsten’s features and he sits back.
‘I didn’t know you were friends with Miron.’
‘Not friends, as such,’ I say. ‘More like he’s a family acquaintance.’
‘Ooh, intriguing!’ He stands up. ‘If you have time before you leave, come back and I’ll show you my decks.’ He winks at me in an overly exaggerated fashion and
laughter bubbles up from me.
‘Does that work with all the girls?’
He pretends to be hurt, a hand to his chest. ‘I don’t know what you mean. It was an honest invite.’
‘I’m sure,’ I say, turning to walk away but he calls me back.
‘No, seriously. I have some new remixes I want to try out. If you have time, before you leave, come by. I’d like to know what you think.’
‘We’ll see.’ I smile at him and walk away towards the staircase where the twins are lounging. Only one of them stands up when I approach.
‘Miron’s not in,’ she says, her gaze sharp.
‘Miron is always in,’ I reply. ‘Ask him if he’s got five minutes for me. That’s all I ask. Tell him I’m here about Lilith.’
Her twin lifts the weird mobile phone device he carries, mutters into it, seems to hear something I can’t and gives her a nod.
‘He says to send her up.’
They do a quick scan to make sure I’m not carrying weapons dangerous enough to hurt Miron. They let me keep the knife because it’s a knife and not a
knife.
Miron is waiting for me in his office. He looks tired, possibly the first actual human frailty I’ve ever seen on him, and it intrigues me.
‘Thank you for seeing me,’ I say, meaning it. ‘I appreciate that you’re busy.’
‘You mentioned Lilith?’
‘I need to know if you think she can be involved in any of this. I’ve done more research and the kids going missing feels like it’s on a bigger scale than . . .’ I move
my hand in a circle. ‘You know, just an accident. Could it be Lilith or any of her friends, maybe? Someone trying to impress you or her or your bosses?’
He paces to the towering flower arrangement with its slightly too-red blooms and adjusts them until he’s happy with it, then turns towards me, shucking the cuffs of his shirt. I guess even
demons need their displacement activities.
‘Let me explain Lilith. She isn’t above being petty and stealing children from humans but she would not do it so haphazardly. She would call a generation of children to be with her
across an entire city the size of New York. This? These petty little crimes that you’re investigating are as far below her as the Queen of England picking up her own dogs’ dirt.’
His smile is toothy and a bit hungry and not for the first time I tell myself never to forget that Miron is a fallen angel.
‘You could have just said “no”, you know.’
His shrug is elegant and his expression weary. ‘You would have gone on and on so I had to make sure you understood what I meant. I am a busy man, Kit. Do you have any further
questions?’
‘What about any of the other Infernal? Would anyone else want to make a name for themselves?’
‘Oh, Kit. You are so very human.’ His smile is sharp and cutting. I don’t turn my back on him, moving as he circles me. ‘No, this is not how the Infernal draw attention
to themselves. Stealing children is dirty and unpleasant. We look for bigger things, like wars and, if there aren’t any, we instigate them.’ His eyes slant towards me. ‘Happy with
my explanation? Did that help?’
‘Plenty. Thank you for your time.’ I hold myself stiffly as I leave the room, feeling disconcerted and more miserable than before. I’ve only moved a few steps when I see one of
the guards leaning against the wall beside the door. She (he?) pushes away from the wall and leads me back down the passage.
‘You got what you needed?’
‘I got an answer. I’m sure you’re not concerned either way.’ I try and bite back the sarcasm but it’s there, coating my words.
‘But we are concerned, Blackhart, know that.’ The warrior’s gaze meets mine and she nods, underlining the seriousness of her words. ‘There is talk that whoever is behind
this is not Fae. Nor are they one of the Infernal.’
‘Interesting. So that leaves me with a human who can fly and disappear at will and who likes to steal small children?’
She makes an impatient sound in the back of her throat. ‘There are a great many more supernatural creatures than merely the Infernal and the Fae, Blackhart.’
‘Are you talking about bloodsuckers?’ I sigh when she rolls her eyes at me. ‘The shapeshifters?’
‘Perhaps. I do not know.’
‘You really aren’t making this easy.’
An elegant shoulder is lifted, an eyebrow is quirked. ‘We are as curious as you about the disappearances. It has become an entertaining diversion.’
We’ve reached the bottom of the stairs and the other one, maybe her brother(?) joins us. They share a long silent look, which as a complete stranger I can’t follow, before the
brother turns to look at me.
‘Torsten wants to see you before you leave,’ he says before turning away and taking his seat at the bottom of the stairs. ‘A word, Blackhart?’
I pause next to him and look down into his strange grey eyes that are almost colourless. I have the chilling thought that I’m looking into a strange mist-covered chasm, but then he blinks
and I’m fine and he’s smiling – it’s just my imagination.
‘Wrap your case up quickly. Word is She’s getting bored waiting.’
‘The case takes as long as it takes,’ I tell him, annoyed by the implication that I’m dragging my feet. ‘Besides, what can she do?’
‘She can send her Beast, girl, and we don’t want that. None of us does.’
I’m in time to see a shudder visibly shake his sister and a feeling of unease creeps up on me.
‘She wouldn’t dare,’ I say. ‘The Beast is not allowed to hunt in the Frontier.’
‘There are loopholes. The Beast can do whatever he likes in the Frontier, with or without your sanction. He has –’ he snaps his fingers as he tries to find the right word
– ‘how do you say it? Diplomatic immunity.’
I look from one to the other. ‘Are you guys serious?’
‘Like death.’
A bit morbid but I’ll take it. I nod goodbye at them and walk past, sidestepping wet patches on the washed floor and head over to the bar.
‘Hey, Philippe, can I have something to drink?’
Philippe passes me my bottled water and a can of Coke. ‘Give that to Torsten, will you? I’ve not had a chance to get it to him yet.’
‘So he’s told you he wants to see me too?’ I ask as I move away.
Philippe frowns at me. ‘No, he didn’t – I just thought I overheard him saying to the twins . . .’ He shakes his head. ‘Sorry, Kit, I didn’t mean to presume .
. .’
It’s my turn to frown at Philippe. ‘Are you okay? You sound off.’
He leans forward against the counter and looks embarrassed. ‘Too many late nights. What can I say?’
‘I’ve been coming here a year, dude. I’ve never seen you tired. Maybe you need a break.’
‘That would be nice but things have been tense here recently. Lots of fights and we had to get the cops down to get rid of some guys hanging around dealing.’
I look at him in shock. ‘Seriously?’
‘Rorke, as you can imagine, went mental. He threw this guy out and almost broke him in two. Then his buddies turned up later and it just got nasty.’
‘That would explain Miron.’
Philippe’s blond brows rise. ‘Oh, yes. He’s been in a foul mood ever since.’
‘Someone should maybe have pointed it out to me before I went up there to talk to him,’ I say.
‘Miron loves you, Kit. He knew your parents. He’d never treat you badly.’
I drop my hand, holding the water bottle away from my mouth.
‘Seriously?’
Philippe frowns at me. ‘You must know, surely? He was really good friends with your mum when she was about your age, maybe a bit older. Yes, the stories are they used to paint the town
red.’
‘I never knew that.’
He shrugs and smiles. ‘Well, now you do.’ He checks his watch. ‘Gotta get back to work. I’ll catch you later.’
I nod wordlessly and lift Torsten’s can of Coke. ‘I’ll pass this on.’
I recross the floor and make my way towards the back of the DJ’s box. I recoil briefly when I see something run past my foot and hear the
chitter
of something small that has
sharp, mean little teeth. Keeping my gaze trained on the floor, I step carefully over neatly coiled loops of electrical cable. I’m not a squeamish kind of girl, but rodents give me the
heebie-jeebies. I can cope with lizards and spiders and moths and other things, but it’s the sneaky intelligence in mice and rats that creeps me out.
‘Give me your hand.’ Torsten leans down and helps me onto the small stage. The space is cosy, made more so by his electrical equipment. ‘Ah, thanks for this.’ He takes
the can out of my hand and pops it open. ‘So, you like to dance?’
I nod and look up into his face and I’m struck by how unusual his features are – a bit sharp and pointy – and I like that he reminds me of a fox, all rich autumn colours.
‘When the mood strikes me.’
Torsten laughs and holds a small USB out to me. ‘Here. I’d love to hear what you think. I’m at Milton’s for another two weeks before I’m travelling back to Spain
for the winter.’