Page 9 of Rituals


  "We did?" the boy said.

  "It's an expression."

  "It makes no sense."

  "They never do," she said. "But we searched and searched and found no trace of a crime. I know you said it was long ago, so we asked other fae. We'll keep asking, but so far?"

  "Nothing," the boy said.

  "So we came to find you. Even if it meant traveling to the city." She shuddered.

  "Not fond of the city, I take it?" I said.

  "We can't hide here." She walked to a wooden fence surrounding the trash bins. When she pressed her hand to it, her skin changed to tree bark. "And this...?" She put her hand against the hotel wall, which made it look like a tree limb growing up the brick. "Even worse. The best we can do is try to blend in with the humans. Fortunately, we're good at that."

  "Uh-huh."

  She waggled her finger at me. "Don't mock. We are. Watch." She turned to the boy. "OMG, Mrs. Phipps is a total bitch. Did you see what she gave me on that English essay? I worked for, like, a whole hour on it."

  "Yeah, and Chem is totally kicking my ass this year. If I don't pull up my mark, Dad'll take away my car keys."

  "That sucks. Poor baby. Here, let me make it better."

  She kissed him, just a quick kiss at first, but he pulled her into a deep one that left her laughing and catching her breath.

  "So...you're not brother and sister?" I said.

  "What?" they said in unison.

  "I thought you were siblings."

  "Eww," she said.

  "That's gross," he said. "And unsanitary."

  "I don't think that's the word for it," she said.

  "It should be." He looked at us. "We're mated. Married, as humans might say. Have been for a very long time."

  "Very, very long," the girl said. "We're old."

  "Incredibly old."

  "Almost dead," she said. "But not yet. Which is why we're always looking for fun. Fill in our twilight years with excitement."

  "That's where you come in. We're stuck--temporarily--on your other mystery, so we'll take this one. What do you need?"

  "Ooh, let me guess," she said. "You want to find the person who left that blood trail. We can do that."

  I eased back. "I'd say go for it, but she's almost certainly in the city, which you hate."

  "We'll survive. Can we use the cwn?"

  The boy frowned. "Why don't they use the cwn?"

  "Good question."

  Both looked at us expectantly. I glanced at Lloergan. I'd been considering asking her for help, but the rogue Huntsman who'd enslaved her had forced her to track humans and fae, and not for the reasons a cwn is supposed to track.

  "Lloergan?" Gabriel said. "Could you help?"

  "Is that her name?" the boy asked.

  "It means moonlight," the girl said.

  "You know Welsh?" I said.

  "We know many things." Again, she tried--and failed--to look suitably crafty and mysterious. Then she added, "It is a lovely name."

  "An excellent name," the boy said.

  "If nearly impossible to pronounce. Much harder than ours."

  She gave us another expectant look. We hadn't asked their names. I'd been avoiding that, actually. It implied a future relationship.

  "What are your names?" Gabriel asked, surprising me.

  "He's Alexios. I'm Helia."

  Gabriel nodded and turned to the cwn. "Lloergan?" He crouched before her and pulled a sock from his inside pocket, one he must have snagged from the hotel room. "This belongs to the person we're looking for. Can you follow her trail from here? It's up to you, of course."

  She sniffed the sock gingerly, as if it didn't smell very good. Then she snuffled the ground and headed into the alley. We followed.

  "We can come along?" Alexios called after us.

  "Shhh," Helia said. "Don't ask. Just follow until they make us leave."

  Gabriel turned, and Helia fell back with a yelp.

  "Let me make this clear," he said. "If you wish to help us, we will not stop you. Nor will we set you on tasks or give you any information that might be used against us. If we seem paranoid, understand that we have cause. Outside Cainsville, fae who have asked for help or offered it have been uniformly--"

  "Nasty," Helia said.

  "Horrid," Alexios said.

  "Don't interrupt him."

  "I'm not the one who--"

  "Yes," Gabriel said. "They betrayed us, which has taught us a few things about dealing with fae. It has also, I hope, taught them a few things about dealing with us. Namely, that we are enough fae ourselves to understand the concept of quid pro quo. Help us and we help you. Hinder or harm us..."

  "We have heard the fates of those who crossed you," Helia said, going serious. "We might seem foolish, but we did not live to this age by being foolhardy. Our help is offered freely. In return, we hope for a bit of fun and, yes, the favor of Matilda and Gwynn, which is no small thing. The favor, not a favor."

  "Not a specific thing or a chit," Alexios said. "Just to--in the colloquial--get on your good side, because it seems a fine place to be."

  "All right, then," Gabriel said, and we returned to following Lloergan.

  --

  The trail didn't go more than a mile before Lloergan lost it. Cwn aren't tracking hounds. They can pursue prey in the forest, and they can find them in the city, but the latter requires preternatural abilities, some of which her injuries stole from her.

  It was equally likely that, after that first mile, Seanna got into a vehicle and the trail legitimately ended. Either way, Gabriel only wanted to see how far the trail went because it told him that we weren't following someone disposing of Seanna's body. It was her. On foot. And not so badly injured that she couldn't walk a mile.

  As we'd tracked Seanna, I'd given the dryads what information I could to help them find her. Not that I expected they actually would, but it would keep them occupied.

  "If you go after Seanna, you need to be careful," I said after we'd hit the end of the trail and turned back.

  "We will not harm her," Helia said. "She is the mother of Gwynn. She deserves our respect and our care."

  "Actually, I meant be careful of her. She's a career criminal. She wouldn't have any problem leading you to your doom."

  "She's part fae," Alexios said. "We'd expect no less."

  "True, but even for fae, she's..." I glanced at Gabriel, not sure how much farther I should go.

  He said, "Seanna Walsh is a drug addict, an alcoholic, a part-time prostitute, and a full-time con artist. She cares nothing for anyone except herself."

  "And you," Helia said.

  "No, I am not the exception to that rule."

  "Oh." She frowned. "Are you sure you want us to find her?"

  "Not particularly, but it seems prudent."

  We walked in silence for a few steps. Then Helia said, "I hope you do not feel obligated to find her, Gwynn."

  "I prefer Gabriel," he said, but his tone was soft.

  She nodded. "We will remember that. But you don't feel obligated, do you? Even among fae, there are two exceptions to our selfishness. One is our mate." She caught Alexios's hand and squeezed it. "You cannot be a partner to someone you do not respect and care for. The other exception is our children. For fae, reproduction is not easy. Alexios and I were never blessed, but we knew if we were, we'd have to change. Be less..." She smiled at her mate. "Less capricious."

  "Less dryad," he said.

  "Exactly." Her voice lilted, a touch of that lightheartedness seeping back in. Then she sobered again as she said, "You don't feel obliged to your mother, do you, Gw--Gabriel?"

  "Not one single bit."

  "Excellent. We shall be careful, then, for our own sakes and not for hers."

  "We could get rid of her if you like," Alexios said.

  Helia rolled her eyes. "Again, agori mou, one does not ask these questions. Gabriel will say no and then we cannot do it, or we will have disobeyed him."

  "Uh, no," I cut in.
"Whatever the situation, killing Seanna isn't the answer."

  "Oh, we didn't mean kill. We don't do that. But we have ways to make her disappear." That crafty look again. "The secrets of trees."

  "No, please," I said. "General rule? Don't harm anyone while completing a task for us unless your own lives are in danger. Okay?"

  "No," Alexios said.

  I turned to him. "Then you aren't working for us. Either you do as we ask--"

  "We will," Helia said. "But you asked if it was okay. It is not. We will do it, though. You need to be more specific in your questions, Matilda. Or do you prefer Eden?"

  "Liv or Olivia."

  She scrunched her nose. "Olivia is for olives, and in the old country we saw far too many of those. We had to live in a field of them once, when they cut down our forest." She shuddered. "Olives stink. But we will call you Liv, if you insist."

  I sighed. "Call me whatever you want. Now, since Lloergan lost Seanna's trail so--"

  "It isn't her fault."

  "I didn't mean it like that." I rubbed the cwn's neck. "It's hardly her fault that Seanna got into a car."

  "I meant that the cwn cannot perform as well as she'd like as long as she still suffers from her injuries."

  "We're working on that."

  "They're deep wounds." Helia moved to Lloergan and reached to touch her torn ear.

  "Rude," Alexios said.

  "Quite right." Helia crouched in front of the cwn. "May I examine you, Lloergan?"

  Lloergan turned her head, offering her injured ear. Helia checked it and fingered a few scars. The she settled in front of the hound and gazed into her eyes--the clouded one and the good one--before rising.

  "Someone has done well with the ear," she said. "But more scar tissue can be removed to unblock the canal. For the eye, I would suggest a tincture of coleus. But most importantly, consider small doses of nightshade mixed with kanna and skullcap."

  "Isn't nightshade toxic?"

  "Not to fae. Mixed with other ingredients, it creates a potion that helps dull old memories. Traumatic ones. That's her greatest problem. Not the physical injuries, but the ones in here." She tapped Lloergan's skull and then patted her head.

  "Speak to the Tylwyth Teg," Helia continued. "They'll know the recipe. It's a common one for fae." She offered me a half-sad smile as she gave Lloergan one last pat. "In such a long life, there is always something we'd rather not remember."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was nearly 3 a.m. when we knocked on Patrick's door. It took a while for him to open it, and when he did, he sighed and shook his head.

  "I knew you'd be by eventually," he said. "I just expected it at a decent hour. Silly me." He looked at Lloergan, standing at my side. "Protection against Seanna's return? Sadly, whatever her crimes, I don't think she's killed any fae. Otherwise, I'd say setting a hound on her is a lovely idea."

  "Ricky's out of town."

  "Ah, cwn-sitting."

  We walked past him into the house. When I noticed Lloergan wasn't at my side, I looked out to see her on the front stoop.

  "Staying out there?" I asked.

  She grunted and laid her head on her paws.

  "Good call."

  We continued through the old house into the largest room, where Patrick had knocked down a wall to make an area that was half old-fashioned library and half modern entertainment center. An odd mix, one that embraced the different sides of the bocan himself: the scholar, the novelist, and the fae who refused to act--or look--his age.

  I settled in on the couch. Gabriel sat at my side.

  "We know you paid for Seanna's hotel. But she's gone. And she left a hell of a mess."

  He sighed. "Figuratively or literally? No, wait. Both. Stripped the hotel room of everything of value, and management is threatening a lawsuit. Just give me the bill."

  "Is that how you intend to handle Seanna's return? A trail of money leading her away?"

  "It's worked before," he murmured, low enough that I suspected I wasn't supposed to hear.

  Gabriel cut in. "You are correct that she left both a literal and a figurative mess. You are incorrect as to the nature of both. She appears to have feigned her murder...after conveniently telling another guest that she was my mother."

  "Cach," Patrick spat. "Trashing the room just wasn't good enough, was it, Seanna?" He looked over at Gabriel and when he spoke, his voice was tight. "I presume the point of that stunt was to frame you and then magically reappear after you paid her off?"

  "We expect so, but I was lakeside, with an ironclad alibi. Yet it doesn't appear that the police will be quick to drop the investigation, and you were the one who checked her into that hotel. Also, someone in a red Maserati parked outside the hotel shortly before Seanna disappeared."

  Patrick's gaze shot to me.

  "Olivia was with me," Gabriel said. "We exchanged cars with Rose so we could take Lloergan."

  "Cach."

  "That woman is Seanna, isn't she?" I said. "There's no way she's an impostor? Maybe a fae using her face as a glamour?"

  "Glamours don't work like that. It's her. I know you'd love to hear otherwise, but going down that path is dangerous. That is Seanna Walsh."

  "Because she said something that proved it?"

  "No," Gabriel said. "Because Patrick already knew she was alive."

  I could swear Patrick flinched.

  "You paid her off," I said, remembering his earlier words. "She came back before, and you paid her to go away."

  "Any business between myself and Seanna Walsh is personal and private--"

  "Uh, no," I said. "Given that the 'business' between you resulted in the man sitting across from you, I think there's a third party involved."

  "Thank you for the clarification, Olivia." Patrick's tone cooled, and he used my full name the way my adoptive father used it on those rare occasions when he was displeased, and I went from Livy to O-liv-i-a, each syllable pronounced in full.

  "If you had let me finish," Patrick continued, "I'd have said that, in general, I do not wish to speak about my business with Seanna Walsh, but on this topic--and this one alone--I will, because I do not wish either of you to think this might be an impostor. Also, I want to clear up a misunderstanding regarding what you think I did and did not do for Gabriel."

  "Misunderstanding? When I accused you of letting him go through hell as a child, what did you say to me?"

  "I have no idea--"

  "Oh, I do. Because I will never forget the words. Here's a hint: steel."

  Do you know how they temper steel, Olivia? The application of controlled heat. As strong as the metal will withstand. That produces the most resilient steel. Too much and it will break. It must be tough, yet slightly malleable. Adaptable to the greatest number of situations. That's Gabriel.

  "You take liberties, Olivia," Patrick said, his voice heavy with warning.

  "Because you allow it...except when it inconveniences you. You're like the parent who wants to be all buddy-buddy until the kid disrespects him and then, suddenly, it's off to your room until dinner. Oh, sorry. Wrong analogy. You don't know anything about parenting."

  "Patrick?" Gabriel said. "You were confirming that, yes, you did know Seanna was alive."

  Patrick took a moment to compose himself and then said, "She contacted me about ten years ago. Ordered me to meet her, or she'd tell the world I was a deadbeat dad. After she abandoned you."

  A roll of his eyes, more himself now as he settled into his story. "I aged my glamour, and we met. I told her that I thought it convenient she returned when you reached the age of majority and could no longer legally expect anything from her. I managed to convince her that she would owe you compensation for those lost years of care. Then I gave her some money and, as I expected, she went away again. Then, a few years ago, she saw your name in the paper and realized you were far more successful than the average twenty-something. So I had to pay her more."

  He looked at Gabriel as if expecting a thank-you.

&nb
sp; "I would have appreciated the warning," Gabriel said, his voice deceptively soft.

  Patrick only said, "I meant to," and then shrugged and added, "I just didn't get to it," as if explaining why he'd failed to warn a visitor that the front stoop was slippery.

  "Perhaps I have misstepped," Gabriel said, those pale blue eyes now as chill as his voice. "I have failed to complain or express any displeasure at the fact you hid my paternity from me. It was unproductive. That has led you to believe that I harbor no ill feelings over the situation."

  "I kept her away, Gabriel."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Again, Patrick missed Gabriel's tone entirely and turned to face him, as if he only needed to explain more clearly. "When she came back, you were in college and well on your way to a successful life. I wouldn't allow her to interfere with that. So I helped you."

  "The time to help me was when I was a child," Gabriel enunciated slowly. "Locked in a cubby while she screwed men for drug money."

  Now Patrick really did flinch. "I had no idea--"

  "Of course you didn't. You'd washed your hands of me. I don't believe you actively ignored the abuse--you simply didn't open your eyes and look. If you had, you might have seen something inconvenient."

  "It wasn't like that."

  "Then tell me what it was like."

  "I kept an eye on you. Remember I gave you that hint for finding the last gargoyle?"

  "You--you gave him the hint--" I sputtered.

  Gabriel's hand on my knee stopped me. "If you paid Seanna to stay away, then I suspect that was to save yourself further inconvenience."

  "It wasn't like that," Patrick said.

  "Then, again, please explain."

  Patrick walked to the bookcase and began re-shelving a stack.

  "I'm not asking you to explain why you seduced a seventeen-year-old drug addict," Gabriel said. "You're fae. It doesn't mean the same."

  "I didn't--" Patrick stopped himself and fussed with a book, straightening loose pages in the old tome.

  "All right," Gabriel said. "There was likely little seduction required. Perhaps she convinced you she was older. Perhaps she was clean at the time. Whatever the case, I'll accept that she was a willing participant in the affair."

  "There was no--" Again, Patrick cut himself short. He took a book from the shelf and scanned, as if looking for the proper spot.

  After a moment, Gabriel's hands clenched, ever so slightly, and he drew in a small breath. "I would like to understand the circumstances regarding my conception, and why you left me with a teenaged addict for a mother."