Shadows Before the Sun

A muscle in Rex’s jaw flexed. He leaned forward. “What an ungrateful piece of work. Why should I help him when all he wants to do is tear me apart?”

“Keep your voice down. One of his kin just died. God, Rex. He thinks a jinn is responsible. You do the math. Just go wait and I’ll come get you when I’m done, okay?”

He tossed an evil look at Pen’s back and marched away, muttering about staying in bed and demented, homicidal nymphs.

2

I waited until Rex was out of sight before heading back to Pendaran’s side. Once there, I let out a loud sigh, knowing just how close we’d come to a bloodbath.

“Thank you,” I told him. “For showing restraint. I know that was hard.”

“You know nothing.”

I didn’t rise to the bait. “Look, if you just point me to the witness in question, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Doubtful,” he muttered. “Since your witness is standing before you, Detective.”

I stared blankly at him for a moment. Pen was the witness. Perfect.

“It was a jinn.” His tone was low and deep and full of soft menace. No wonder he’d nearly gone medieval on Rex. He knew what he saw and believed it.

“Tell me what you saw.”

Pen shoved his hands back in his pockets and turned once again to stare out at the water. “I saw,” he began in a condescending tone, “a jinn.”

“Yeah, already got that part. What else did you see?”

His highly imperious expression said he’d already answered my question and was done. I was dismissed.

I plastered a thin smile on my face and tapped into my Mommy Calm. “If you say ‘a jinn’ one more time, I’ll have to turn into Bad Charlie. We don’t want that, do we? I have a brand-new shirt on today that I happen to like, and my favorite boots, so let’s not soil them with ye ole dragon’s blood and tears, which is what’ll happen if you don’t start cooperating, so . . .”

An eye roll and the relaxing of his jaw gave me the opening I was hoping for. “Look, Pen. I want to help here, but I can’t do it unless you go through the motions with me. That means giving me every minute detail even if it seems unrelated or mundane to you. Let me do my job, okay? You trusted me once when Daya was killed. You have to trust me again.”

Well, he’d sort of trusted me. Ordering Orin and Killian to follow me around as I investigated Daya’s murder and giving me that insane ultimatum to solve the case on his timetable wasn’t exactly trusting, but he hadn’t interfered, and he’d come through when I needed him. His trust didn’t come easy, but I felt we had something of a relationship now, one forged on the battlefield atop Helios Tower against the Sons of Dawn and Grigori Tennin, one forged on common goals and secrets that could shatter worlds.

“I was sleeping in the lake, in the cave . . .” The cave which held the agate sarcophagus containing Ahkneri. Pen cleared his throat. “Killian was on patrol on the east side of the Grove.”

My stomach dropped. “Not Killian.”

But Pen didn’t react to my outburst; he stared straight ahead, lost in his memories, while my chest burned and my fists clenched. Goddammit . . . No, no, not Killian!

“There was no scent,” Pen went on, “no disturbance, or identifiers. I should’ve been able to smell an intruder, to feel a presence other than nymph. Even beneath the water, I know who comes and goes. I am the protector of my kin. . . .” Frustration and guilt edged his deep voice. After a long moment, he continued. “The only thing I did notice was the scent of adrenaline and then Killian howling. I shot from the lake, knowing he was already dead.” He pointed to the eastern shore. “And I saw a gray-skinned being throw a wolf into the water. The wolf changed to nymph as Killian’s spirit left him. I gave chase, but it was like chasing a shadow. The speed was incredible, a blur. There was no scent to follow . . . nothing.”

“Did you see the eyes?”

Pen paused and I could tell he really wanted to say yes. A jinn’s eyes glowed a reddish violet when they fought or experienced rage. There’d be no way one could’ve fought and killed Killian without his or her eyes turning. And they were the only off-worlders with that specific trait.

“No. But the build was very large, tall and bulky, like a jinn.”

“What about hair? The males are bald and the women usually have braids . . .”

He shook his head. “I didn’t notice the hair or lack thereof. I only noticed the shape and body color. And,” he added with a heavy sigh, “the scent of death as I returned to the Grove.”

“Did you or anyone else try to get him out of the water?” It’s every investigator’s hope that a victim remained untouched, but the fact that Killian had stayed in the lake, that no one had tried to save him or resuscitate him, bothered me. He was a good guy. He’d put himself in harm’s way helping me in the battle on Helios Tower . . . He was quiet, capable, sarcastic. He deserved an attempt, at least.

“He was dead before he hit the water, Charlie. Nothing could’ve changed that. I went after the jinn. I called your chief from a borrowed cell phone after I gave up the search, and by the time I got back, your medical examiner was already here and”—he glared at Liz as Killian’s body was being pulled onto the shore—“that tiny Asian necromancer wouldn’t allow me near the body.”

“That’s Liz for you,” I said quietly. “She’s always been possessive about her work.”

“She shoved me.”

I blinked at that. Liz had a razor-sharp tongue and balls of steel, but I’d never known her to get physical. And I certainly couldn’t picture her small frame squaring off against a six-foot-four wall of off-world power and muscle. “If she pushed you, my guess is you probably deserved it. No offense.”

His deepening frown told me I was right. “She’s a menace.”

I let out a tired sigh, trying to explain without scolding him. “Because you made such a menace of yourself when Daya died, calling the morgue every day and making unreasonable demands instead of letting her do her job. Otherwise,” I said gently, “she might’ve gone easier on you today.”

His eyes narrowed on me and the imperialism was back. “Are you scolding me, Detective?” he asked softly. “You overstep. Again.”

“Yet another one of my gifts.”

Pen shook his head as though I was a lost cause, but I liked to think that underneath his gruffness, he admired the fact that I poked holes in his I-was-once-worshipped-as-a-Celtic-god complex.

“Look . . . I really am sorry about Killian. I . . . liked him. He was a good guy. I understand where you’re coming from. I do. But try to ease up a little and let us do our jobs. I’ll keep you in the loop with whatever we find out.” I took a chance and gave his big shoulder a pat, which only resulted in him looking at me like I’d gone mad. “I’m going to get Rex to take a look at things. I’ll let you know what he says.”

“How can you trust anything he says? He’s a jinn. He’d never incriminate his own kind.”

“Rex has no ties to Tennin’s tribe or any other. His only tie is to me, me and my daughter . . . We’re his tribe now. Go get some rest, talk to your kin, grab something to eat. I’ll check in with you later.”

I began to walk away, but he called my name. I turned back toward him with a questioning look.

“I hear you’re going to Fiallan tomorrow to retrieve the siren.”

A sudden lightness spread through my belly at the words. “That’s right.”

Pen nodded, his grim face unreadable, but his eyes taking on a sincere light. “Good luck.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “Thanks.”

As I left the dock, I watched Liz on the shore as she gently pulled Killian over onto his back. His skin was marble white, stark against his usual dark clothes and wet black hair. Grief squeezed my throat and my shoulders sagged in sadness.

I had to leave tomorrow, and I hated the idea of leaving Killian’s case in the hands of someone else. But nothing short of a family emergency would stop me from bringing Hank home. The siren