“Let’s take a look at the bean-tighe residence,” I said. I blinked rapidly and pulled out my phone to check the address. I already knew the address by heart, but it gave me an excuse to look away. Meeting Ceff’s gaze hurt too damn much. He had suffered the loss of his own children and I was feeling guilty for not claiming the wisp throne in time to stop these kidnappings. “This way.”
We walked the next two blocks in silence, which was fine by me. I used the time to practice the breathing exercises Jenna had taught me. Whether battling monsters or my own emotions, the series of inhalations and exhalations helped to focus my mind and calm my racing pulse. I couldn’t afford the complication of glowing skin right now. I managed to escape unnoticed yesterday, but I didn’t expect my luck to hold.
I turned into the mouth of an alley that ran perpendicular to Baker’s Row. Unlike most alleys on The Hill, this one was swept clean and smelled like strawberries. This was definitely the place.
The bean-tighe family lived on the third floor in a small, efficiency apartment accessed by a fire escape bolted to the brick wall. I was pretty sure that having a fire escape as the only entrance or exit was against code, which meant the building was probably owned by vampires. Vamps are prolific landlords on The Hill and their rental properties tended to be just as cold, dusty, and decayed as their owners.
The one thing vampire landlords care about is bleeding their tenants dry. The bloodsuckers didn’t bother to keep their buildings up to code. If renters fall to their deaths due to a shortage of safety features, the vamps are quick to sweep the incident under the rug—and feed the body to one of their pet ghouls.
If vamps were keeping tabs on the property, it was possible that a vamp saw something the night of the kidnappings. One more question for the vampire council. Of course, if a vamp was behind the abductions, the council wasn’t likely to pass along any helpful witness accounts. Vampires were experts at pulling strings and making problems disappear. Their Machiavellian machinations were legendary. I’d have to use caution when it was time to question the vamps, or they may decide to make me disappear.
I shivered and rubbed the slight bumps my knives made beneath my jacket sleeves, glad to have Ceff at my back. Ceff followed me further into the alley and I walked past the fire escape, checking the darkest corners for clues. Most of the secrets in this city could be discovered by poking around the shadowed corners of Joysen Hill.
I pulled a small penlight from my jacket and shone it along the ground and up brick walls. I reached the far corner and bent down for a closer look. The ground was worn smooth in a peculiar, circular pattern. I fanned the light over the spirals until I found what I was looking for. A shiny, green scale protruded from a crevice in the pavement.
I produced a clear, plastic baggy and tweezers from an inside pocket and wiggled the scale free. I rocked back on my heels and held it under the light. I couldn’t tell if it was of fish or snake origin, but I had a bad feeling that it wasn’t from any natural creature.
“Find anything?” Ceff asked.
I lowered the scale, shielding it with my body. I forced myself to grin and flashed Ceff a smile over my shoulder.
“Nothing yet,” I said. “Can you go on up and get started with the bean-tighe? You’re better at talking with people and I want to check the alley one more time. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Ceff raised an eyebrow, but nodded. I heard him pull down the fire escape and climb to the bean-tighe’s window. I pretended to continue my search for clues as Ceff’s voice floated down from above. After a brief conversation between Ceff and two female voices, he entered the apartment.
When I heard the window close behind him, I lowered the tweezers and the scale onto the plastic bag and took a deep breath. I had to know if the scale was related to the kidnappings, but this was something I had to do alone. If my suspicions were correct, I needed time to figure out how to break the news to Ceff. And if I was wrong, he never had to be bothered with theories that would only open old wounds.
I pulled a cheap mouthguard, the kind used for contact sports, out of my pocket and slid it between my teeth. It was a new purchase I’d only experimented with a few times, but the object made screaming nearly impossible. It made me drool like a slavering barguest, but my philosophy is that it’s better to slobber all over myself than to attract unwanted attention screaming. If the mouthguard helped prevent a chipped tooth, that was a bonus.
I stole one last glance at the empty fire escape and the closed window above. Ceff would be inside for at least fifteen minutes, consoling and interviewing the bean-tighe family, before looking for me. Hopefully, I’d be done in time.
I clumsily pulled the glove from my left hand. With shaking fingers, I reached out and grasped the scale that was shining iridescent in the flashlight beam. A hissing sound roared in my ears and I used my gloved hand to steady myself against the brick wall. Reality blurred and slid, and a cascade of vertiginous images joined the hissing in my head. Bricks, mortar, pavement, fire escape, and a patch of midday sky melted and mixed together like a stirred reflection in a mud puddle, leaving only the murky depths of a vision.
I pushed past the storm of emotions raging through the vision like a tempest, and tried to open my inner eye. With an act of will, I tuned out the cacophony of hissing and rattling that assaulted my ears and focused on what I could see. The alien perspective was perplexing, but the reflection in the fog shrouded puddle was familiar. My suspicion was correct.
The serpent scale belonged to Melusine.
A flicker of light reflected off the puddle and Melusine looked up to see a cloud of wisps exit the window above. A small bean-tighe followed, riding a broom.
That explained the difficult climb to the third floor apartment. If bean-tighe can fly, then the fire escape was adequate. It also answered another question I’d had regarding these faeries. Bean-tighe are always depicted as wizened old women with rosy cheeks and wrinkled faces. Now I knew why.
Evidently, bean-tighe are born looking like miniature versions of their parents. The child astride the broom was smaller than an adult bean-tighe, but had the characteristic wrinkles on its cherubic face. A kerchief covered her head, but strands of gray hair escaped to blow in the wind. The child was smiling and chasing the wisps as they flew down the alley.
Melusine shifted through feelings of pleasure, satisfaction, pain, loss, jealousy, and rage as she slithered in the shadows. The woman was as unstable as a dwarf on a surfboard. Melusine’s serpent body coiled and uncoiled rhythmically and her tail lashed the wall. The lamia seemed impatient to follow the child, but instead she waited.
“Sssoon my sssweet,” she said.
Something cold slithered over Melusine’s shoulder. I held my breath as a thick bodied snake coiled around her neck. Black scales were nearly lost in the shadows, but the pale underbelly and yellow tail caught the moonlight. Melusine had herself a pet water moccasin, a venomous pit viper.
She reached out and caressed the snake affectionately on the head. Melusine was eager to chase the child, but stroking her pet seemed to calm her as she waited. The wisps exited the alley ahead of the tiny bean-tighe, and a flute began to play. I forgot all about the snake.
A beautiful, lilting melody was coming from beyond the alley. The song tugged at me, threatening to pull my soul deeper into the vision. It was a sound I could follow forever.
I couldn’t see the piper, but I longed to run down the alley and dance into his or her arms. I knew, without a doubt, that they were the most wonderful person I’d ever meet. This musician was someone I’d jump off a cliff for.
I shook my ghost-like head. Running into a stranger’s arms? Jumping off a cliff? That was crazy talk. I willed myself to remain rooted to where Melusine slithered in the dark, but I longed to follow the flute player to the ends of the earth.
Apparently the alley’s vermin felt the same way.
Mice and moles, even a flying squirrel, scurried to follow the music, but their numbers were nothing compared to the rats. Huge rats with long tails and big teeth poured down the walls, out of crevices, up from sewer grates, and into the alley. The ground writhed and rippled in a sea of mangy, dun brown fur.
I felt compelled to dance down the alley after them. If I hadn’t been practicing my mind focusing skills recently, I may have let my soul wander, trapping me in this vision forever. It would be so easy to give in, to just let go.
Instead, I focused on Melusine. The snake at her neck scented the air with its tongue, probably wishing it
