nap. I leaned back in my chair, blowing strands of hair from my face. I rubbed gritty eyes and ran a tongue over teeth tasting of coffee and old pizza. I must look like something the cat sidhe dragged in. I pictured Sir Torn dropping me on the stoop and snorted, a giggle trying to escape.
I smoothed a gloved hand over wrinkled clothes, avoiding the looks of Ceff and Jinx. The last few hours had been a blur. Jinx and I had interviewed dozens of worried families, but the worst was yet to come.
Ceff had brought us food and coffee while we worked, a kelpie king turned office errand boy. After we ate, he cleared pizza boxes from the conference table—a flea market purchase that Jinx had insisted on for our growing business, which thankfully had no visions imprinted into the shiny pressboard and metal—and began setting up rows of plastic bags. Each bag contained a small item and was labeled with the name of the family and the missing child the item belonged to. Every bag represented a child who was missing.
The table was buried beneath them.
I’ve never attempted to retrieve visions from so many items, but I was about to try. I flicked my eyes away from the table, letting my gaze land on my gloved hands now fidgeting with a paper cup. Ceff had kept the coffee flowing, as if by magic. Perhaps it had been.
I drank the last sips of coffee in one gulp and tossed the cup in my overfull wastebasket. Jinx had discarded her own wastebasket in the back alley, beside the dumpster we shared with the bar that backed onto our building. We hadn’t wanted to offend our clients, many of whom had a heightened sense of smell, with her fouled bin, so now we were sharing mine. The coffee cups and broken pencils spilled out onto the floor at my feet.
After hearing about a toddler, no more than twenty-four months old, stolen from his crib, I’d started waging war on office supplies. My desk was littered with fragments of wood and graphite. And pencils weren’t the only casualty of the morning.
Jinx, in a fit of pique, had smashed the receiver of her retro-styled phone back into the cradle so hard, it was now held together with duct tape and nail glue. The front of our office also showed signs of abuse. It looked as if we’d corralled a herd of angry cattle into our waiting area.
It’s amazing the amount of damage a mob of desperate faeries can cause. I didn’t blame them, they’d lost their children and it’s not like they could go to the human police for help, but we’d have to make repairs. Jinx, always the pragmatist, was adding a fee for physical damages to our bill. Of course, we’d never collect a penny if I didn’t find those kids.
I swallowed hard and dragged myself from my chair. My knees creaked and my legs trembled as I walked with heavy steps to the conference table. I’d missed my morning run. That meant more laps around the Old Port and along the harbor tomorrow, if I survived the day. I tried to distract myself with plans for my altered workout schedule, but my eyes were drawn to the bags that held so much hope for the parents of the missing children.
I lowered myself onto the floor beside the table, back against a row of filing cabinets. Sitting on the floor meant I had less distance to fall, a lesson I’d learned after cracking my head more than once. I pulled my knees to my chest and looked up into Jinx’s worried face.
“Hand me the first bag,” I said.
I reached out, hand shaking. Too much caffeine? Maybe it was time to lay off the coffee.
Jinx bit her lip, but nodded and grabbed a plastic bag off the table. Before she could pass it to me, Ceff stepped between us. He knelt in front of me, knees almost touching my booted feet. Lines creased his brow and pinched the corners of his eyes. I wanted to reach out and wipe the lines from his face, but instead I hugged my legs closer to my chest.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
“Yes, I do,” I said. I looked him in the eye to let him know I was serious. “It’s the job.”
But this was about more than my career, he knew it and I knew it.
“You don’t have to be a hero,” he said.
A cold chill ran up my spine, but I held myself still. I was good at hiding my fear, had been doing it for a long time. I’d made up my mind last summer and I wouldn’t back down. This city, with all its ley lines and supernatural beasties, needed a hero.
“Galliel would disagree,” I said.
I lifted my lips in a grin, though my voice lacked the humor I’d intended. Galliel, a beautiful unicorn seeking sanctuary at St. Mary’s church, adored me as much as I adored him. Father Michael claimed that Galliel’s affection was due to two things. Unicorns are attracted to virgins and heroes. I knew that I was the former, but Father Michael had insisted that I was also the latter.
I’d never thought of myself that way until my city had been threatened by vicious
Today I was ready to live up to the priest’s expectations. If it took a hero to help rescue these kids, then that’s exactly what I would become.
“Ivy, I…,” he said.
“I know,” I said. I reached out with gloved fingers and gripped his hand, holding it for a moment. No flesh touched, but the simple act of holding Ceff’s hand was intensely intimate. I was amazed that my gloves didn’t burst into flame. “Me too.”
The touch was a rare stolen moment. I just hoped it wasn’t our last.
“You will not be swayed?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Then what can I do to help?”
Most guys would stomp off or pout when their girlfriend did something stupid or reckless, but not Ceff. I glanced up at Jinx, standing over Ceff’s shoulder. She looked at my hand on Ceff’s, waggled penciled eyebrows, and winked. I pulled my hand away from Ceff and gestured to my roommate and business partner.
“Jinx is in charge,” I said. “Follow her lead and do what she says, without hesitation. She knows the drill.”
Jinx nodded and held out her hand to Ceff, two pieces of rubber resting on her palm.
“If you’re staying, you’ll need these,” she said.
The brightly colored pieces of rubber were earplugs—to block out my screams.
Jinx slung a crossbow over her shoulder and set a handful of iron and silver bolts onto the table. Ceff raised an eyebrow and she poked a finger at his chest.
“Weapon up, big guy,” she said. “Ivy will be completely defenseless while caught in a vision. If the person who stole these children shows up, I have her back. So should you.”
It was strange having Jinx talk about me like I wasn’t sitting here, just inches away. But if this was to be Ceff’s first time witnessing my psychometry in action, he deserved a few pointers. And Jinx was the closest thing to an expert.
Ceff lifted his pant leg to reveal a three pronged weapon—a trident?—strapped to his ankle.
“I will protect her, no matter what comes,” he said.
Ceff stared at Jinx and it seemed like they were talking about more than weapons.
“Guys?” I asked. “Can we hurry it up?”
My eyelids were heavy and the floor was beginning to feel comfortable, even with the handles of filing cabinets jabbing into my back. Jinx and Ceff ended their staring contest and Jinx stepped forward.
“Sure thing,” she said.
Jinx handed me the bag. A small, stuffed animal stared out at me through the clear plastic, its smile stitched in place.
I slid my boots forward and let the bag sit on my lap. I inhaled slowly though my nose and out through my mouth. I bit my lip and stared at the pastel blue and yellow monkey smiling out at me. I had a bad feeling about this.
I unzipped the bag and pulled the child’s toy onto my lap, tossing the bag aside. My hands shook, but I focused on my anger. The child who played with this toy was missing, taken from his bed. I yanked hard on my glove, pulling the leather from my skin one finger at a time.
I didn’t look at Ceff, but I could feel him kneeling before me. He hadn’t left my side, not yet. But I knew that what was to happen next would not be pretty. I just hoped he’d still be here when I came to, though I wouldn’t
