Grave Dance - Page 10/70

Malik hesitated long enough that I thought he might not answer. Then he blew air out between his teeth and said, “I was following you because I wanted to talk with you. When I saw the cu sith I actually thought it was after me. Until it saw you and howled.”

I wasn’t convinced, and I didn’t see how the beast howling at me changed anything, but I nodded for him to continue.

“Cu sith are a type of faerie dog—” he said, and I scoffed under my breath.

“That was no dog. The giant faerie cousin of a dire wolf maybe, but not a dog.”

Malik cleared his throat, ignoring my commentary. “As I was saying, cu sith are a type of faerie dog that disappeared centuries before the Awakening. You said it tried to kill you, but the cu sith were never trained to kill. Inside Faerie they guarded against intruders, but when they were sent out of Faerie to hunt, their role was that of retriever. They howled only once they spotted their prey, and if their target heard the third howl before reaching safety, Faerie claimed that mortal—forever.”

I shivered, remembering the beast’s red eyes locking on me, its giant head tilting back, the howl that made me want to fall to my knees and cower. Twice. It had howled twice. I’d been afraid of its teeth, of its claws. I would never have realized I needed to be afraid of its howl.

“So it was there to steal me away to Faerie?”

Malik shrugged. “Like you said, it was a construct. But it is my belief that it intended to steal you away to somewhere.”

I stared at the gangly fae, not really seeing him anymore. My knees felt weak, rubbery, and I wanted to be alone to think about this information. That didn’t seem to be an option.

After the silence stretched several moments, Malik cleared his throat again. “Will you hear me out, Miss Craft?”

I nodded absently and Malik fidgeted, rubbing his fingers and shuffling his feet so that the points of his knees pressed through the threadbare material of his pants.

“As I’m sure you’ll recall,” he said in his hauntingly musical voice, “two days ago you trekked through my territory in the floodplain and found a pile of feet. Afterward, we had a rather unfortunate encounter.”

“All of that was rather memorable.”

“Yes, well . . .” He paused and glanced back at Caleb, who nodded, and Malik let his hands fall to his sides. Then he rolled his shoulders and straightened to his full height again. “My life and livelihood are in danger. I need to hire you, Miss Craft.”

Chapter 5

I poured coffee into three mismatched mugs and carried them to my “guests.” Caleb sipped his politely, but Malik clasped his mug between both hands without seeming to be aware of it. His gaze flickered around my small apartment, never staying in one place too long. Clearly I wasn’t the only uncomfortable one.

I owned only one chair, and I wasn’t about to invite Malik to plop down on my bed, so after handing off the mugs, I leaned against the wall. Then I stalled, blowing on my coffee to gain an extra couple of seconds as I tried to decide how to handle the situation.

“I’m going to guess that you’re not interested in having a shade raised,” I said, watching Malik over the rim of my mug.

He shook his head.

Figured.

“What is it you think I can do for you, Mr. Malik?”

“Actually, it is what we can do for each other. Your actions two days ago brought Faerie’s attention down on the fae in the floodplain,” he said, and then paused, as if waiting for some response from me.

“I’m not going to justify helping the police in their search for a serial killer.”

“I hid those feet for a reason!”

A reason? I glanced at Caleb, letting my uncertainty bleed into my expression. The good guys didn’t hide disembodied appendages.

He met my gaze, but there were no answers in his eyes. They were the same blue he usually wore while glamoured, but I’d never been more aware that the person behind that glamour was so other.

I swallowed a gulp of coffee without tasting it and let my hand fall casually to my pocket. I could reach my phone, but my recent upgrade to a touch screen meant there would be no dialing numbers by feel. “Are you admitting to the murder of those people?” I asked Malik, my voice just above a whisper.

“Of course not. I hid the feet, but they were already severed when I found them. And before you ask, no, I don’t know how they came to be that way.”

“Then why hide them in the first place?”

His fingers clenched his mug. “To avoid the very scrutiny you have brought to my home!”

At Malik’s outburst, PC, who’d fallen asleep on his usual pillow, jumped to his feet with a yelp. Then he dove off the bed and ducked behind the bedskirt. Not exactly a guard dog. Malik set his mug on the counter and took a deep breath.

He released the breath slowly, and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “That scrutiny is unavoidable now. But you’ve also drawn attention. The best thing for both of us would be if the murderer is caught as soon as possible.”

Well, I couldn’t argue with that. There were seven left feet in the morgue—it would be best for everyone if the killer was found before he or she killed again. But . . . “What is it you think I can do?”

Malik frowned. “You’re an investigator. Investigate.” Right. Searching for a serial killer was way out of my job description. If enough of one of the bodies was recovered that a shade could be raised, I would gladly help the police question the victim, but the last time I’d gotten actively involved in a major investigation I’d nearly died. And then I’d been arrested.

I pushed myself off the wall. I’d heard enough. Malik had said he’d found—and hidden—the feet but didn’t know anything more about them. Fae couldn’t lie, so I had no choice but to believe him. John, and most likely the FIB, since they had taken over the case, would still want to question Malik, but I wasn’t going to antagonize him by calling the police while he stood in my loft. I’d kick him out first.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to help you,” I said, giving him a wide berth as I headed for the door.

“You’re the only one in the position to help us.”

I stopped, my hand hovering over the doorknob. That whole not-being-able-to-lie thing meant that when Malik said I was the only one who could help, he honestly believed that was true, and considering everything Caleb had done to make this conversation happen, I assumed he agreed. I turned back around.

“Why me, and who is included in ‘us’?”

“‘Us’ would be the fae in the floodplain in particular, but also extending to all the independent fae in Nekros.” Malik paced across my small apartment. “Yesterday she ordered the floodplain cleared. All fae inside were to be taken to Faerie for questioning, but the brutes she sent came with iron chains, and none of the fae they captured have returned. There’s war brewing in Faerie and she’s bolstering her court with our numbers.”

“That is only speculation,” Caleb said, but he didn’t sound sure. In fact, I thought I caught an edge of fear in his voice.

“She?” I asked because they obviously both knew what woman they were talking about, but I surely didn’t.

Caleb pushed away from the counter. “The Winter Queen. Nekros City is part of her territory.”

“The winter court? Seriously?” I frowned at Caleb.

“Nekros City hardly has a proper winter. I can count on one hand how many times it’s snowed here and the snow stuck to the ground more than an hour. Hell, half the trees don’t have the decency to lose their leaves. Shouldn’t the winter court hold territory somewhere, I don’t know, cold?”

Caleb shrugged. “Faerie is the ultimate contradiction. It is unchanging and yet ever in flux. Doors in Faerie are . . . inconsistent. For the past few years the door from Nekros into Faerie has opened to the winter court so Nekros City is part of the queen’s territory. The door will change soon enough, and all the fae with ties to the winter court will move on, making room for the next court. Only the independent fae, those who have tied themselves to the mortal realm instead of Faerie, will remain.”

That was more information than I’d ever gotten out of Caleb at one sitting before. And it was clearer than any of the lessons the one and only fae teacher the academy had hired to teach students fae history had ever been—our teacher definitely had never taught us anything about the doors to Faerie moving. I sipped my coffee, giving myself a second to absorb this information and let it infiltrate my limited understanding of Faerie. Then I put the mug aside.

“If the queen is illegally gathering the independent fae, shouldn’t you go to the FIB?” After all, if the local court was kidnapping fae, someone with a lot more authority than I had needed to know.

Malik huffed under his breath. “Who do you think is doing the questioning?” He shook his head. “The FIB are all court-loyal—not an independent in the bunch.”

“Then go to the police.” I knew for sure the NCPD wasn’t answering to a queen.

Malik’s dark eyes widened like I’d said something unbelievable, and Caleb shook his head.

“Al, there are certain . . . restrictions to being independent,” Caleb said, stepping forward. “As we don’t answer to any regent, we had to take vows before leaving Faerie. Involving mortals in affairs best settled among the fae is strictly forbidden. That’s why Malik came to you.”

“That’s why?” The blood drained from my face. If the fae couldn’t involve anyone mortal... “You know.”

Caleb nodded.

So much for my heritage being a secret. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Neither did you.”

True.

“I only suspected in the beginning,” he said. “Even with you living in my house, under my wards, I wasn’t sure. Until a month ago. Now I can hardly believe I missed it. Something about you changed.”