One would think he'd have learned his lesson by now. He loved Olivia. He respected her. The absolute last thing he wanted was to damage their relationship.
And yet here he was, making another choice that could do exactly that. A damned fool indeed.
For two months, he'd been getting these texts from Rose, usually in the middle of the night. The first time, he'd been working downstairs while Olivia slept, and there'd been no reason to tell her he was leaving. Grace's apartment building was a five-minute walk from Olivia's house. So he'd left a note and slipped out. Then he returned, tossed out the note and decided Olivia didn't need to know about it. The situation would only upset and worry her, and for what? A one-time call in the middle of the night, a problem easily solved, with Gabriel back before she knew he'd left. No point in mentioning it.
When it happened again a week later, they'd both been asleep. The text hadn't woken her, so he slipped out, returned within a half hour, Olivia none the wiser. And there'd still been no reason to tell her--just a second random occurrence.
That "random" occurrence became a weekly routine, and by the time he realized it wasn't going to stop, he didn't know how to tell her. How to admit it had been going on for two months.
One of these times, she would realize he'd left. He needed to tell her before then. He'd been about to, a week ago, and then she got the message from Ioan that her first Hunt was coming, and Gabriel decided he couldn't add this to her stress. He'd wait until after tonight.
"I want Gabriel." Seanna's voice echoed down the hall, and Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut. Then he checked his phone, as if he might have an urgent message from Olivia, needing his help. As if he might have an excuse to flee.
Instead, he saw only Rose's text from an hour ago.
It's Seanna, again. I know Liv's off with the CA, and I thought if you were staying at her house, you might stop by. You don't need to, of course.
"I want my son!"
Gabriel gritted his teeth. He wanted to stride in there and tell Seanna to be quiet. No, he wanted to tell her to shut up. Shut the fuck up. Words he had never used in his life, even with the most difficult client.
Seanna was different.
Until a few months ago, he'd thought his mother was dead. Been glad that she was dead, and he felt no guilt admitting that. Seanna had made his early life quite difficult.
He heard Olivia's voice. "Difficult, Gabriel, is when your mom makes you study from dinner until bedtime. Seanna made your life hell. Absolute hell."
True, though he preferred "difficult." Yes, yes, my mother was a drug-addled petty criminal who neglected me until I was fifteen, when she just walked out, but I'm past all that. Really, I am.
He lifted his hand to rap on the door and saw it trembling. He squeezed a fist as anger darted through him. Anger and shame.
You will not do this to me, Seanna. You've done quite enough, and here I draw the line.
When the trembling stopped, he knocked. Three quick raps. Rose opened the door and, while she tried to hide her relief, he saw it in every line on her face.
This is why I am here. Not for her. For you.
"I'm sorry, Gabriel," she said. "I thought I could handle it this time, but she only got worse."
"It's no trouble," he said. "I was already on my way to Olivia's, and it was easy to stop by."
Rose bought the lie. Just as she bought the one he presented by walking in stone faced and calm.
A minor inconvenience, that's all.
Nothing to worry about.
"Gabriel," a voice whispered.
He looked down the hall and saw his mother. And it did not matter how many times they repeated this dance, each time he saw her, it was a blow straight to his stomach.
When Seanna abandoned him at fifteen, he didn't question her disappearance, never suspected foul play. That was the kind of mother she'd been, gone more than she was home, and every time he opened the door to find the apartment empty, he'd felt nothing but relief. When she disappeared for good, though, he'd realized that a permanently absent mother was an entirely different thing. He might be accustomed to working and stealing for his meals, but at least he'd had a home and an address for school.
When Olivia discovered Seanna had apparently died of a drug overdose all those years ago, Gabriel had again been relieved. Freed from his greatest fear--that after everything he accomplished, she'd return and blackmail him into giving her a share.
Then she had returned. The dead woman had been a setup, allowing Seanna to flee one of her endless bad decisions. She'd escaped and left Gabriel behind and saw no problem with that. He'd done well for himself, hadn't he? No harm, no foul.
He recalled the first time he saw her again, walking into the yard, lobbing insults at Gabriel, taking cheap shots at Olivia. And Olivia had laughed. With that, Gabriel had seen his mother for what she truly was. What she had become, in his adult eyes. A ridiculous and pathetic creature. He had outgrown his vulnerability, and she held no sway over him.
He defeated his bogeyman...and then Fate picked up the game board, flipped it over, and made him start again.
Olivia had discovered that Seanna had been marked as a child, taking from her that which separated humans from fae: their conscience. The Tylwyth Teg had removed the mark, which gave Seanna back her conscience. But undoing the mark would also give her back her memories, letting her know exactly what she'd done to her son. To keep her from going mad, the elders sedated her with fae potions and compulsions. At first, she had surfaced only in a state of semi-lucidity, like an elderly relative with dementia. That Gabriel could handle. But two months ago, she'd woken...and remembered she had a son.
"Gabriel," she said, and she walked toward him, her arms outstretched, and he longed to turn on his heel, walk out and slam the door.
Like hell, Seanna.
Do you think, for one second, that I am going to play this role? Let you play the one you denied me for thirty years? No. Now, good night.
That was what Seanna Walsh deserved. Yet this woman before him, frail and shaky, was not the Seanna Walsh he knew.
Did she deserve to have him walk out?
He didn't know. He couldn't tell how much of her was in there, and if there was little of the woman he knew--as Rose believed--then for his aunt's sake, he couldn't walk out.
Seanna's thin arms went around Gabriel, and he forced himself to pat her back, awkwardly, holding his breath.
Rose was quick to take Seanna by the arm and lead her into the room, saying, "Gabriel's coming in to sit with you. Don't worry."
Rose saw his discomfort. But she mistook it for simply the great-nephew she knew, who abhorred physical contact. This was different. For Gabriel, accepting a hug from a stranger was unpleasant, like an accidental shock--an experience not to be endured any more than necessary. A hug from Seanna felt like gripping that wire as tightly as he could. Unendurable.
Yet it had to be endured.
For Rose.
And for Olivia.
Six
Olivia
I did catch up. Well, Rhyddhad did. Once we reached the others, though, we slowed to a trot, and the world settled around me. As soon as Rhyddhad came up behind the last Huntsman, his horse instinctively moved aside. Without even a glance back, they kept giving way until Ioan and I were up behind Ricky.
"Ricky?" Ioan called above the thunder of hooves. "Let Liv go first."
Ricky nodded and moved his horse to the side.
"No," I said. "I'd rather--"
"Go," Ioan said. "Take the lead. That is your place."
I didn't want my place. Not tonight. Next time, I'd take it. Next time...when we had quarry that didn't raise so many questions.
But that was Ioan's point, wasn't it? That I needed to face this because I was uncomfortable with it, and the truth was that I wouldn't be more comfortable with any case. We could be chasing a drug-addled thug firing a semi-automatic over his shoulder, screaming, "Yeah, I did it, you motherfuckers!" and I'd be
thinking he was too quick to take credit.
I would always question. So there was no point in waiting for next time. I had to make the leap. Lead the Hunt. Give the order. See justice done.
Watch Keith Johnson die.
I pushed Rhyddhad into the forefront. Then I called back, "What's the command?"
"For what?" Ioan said.
"To attack."
"There isn't one. The hounds will know."
I nodded. That helped--I wasn't sure I could form the words.
Ahead, the hounds were already closing in. They'd gotten Johnson deep into the forest; judgment had been pronounced, and all that remained was this final step.
Execution.
I am fine with this. I support this.
No, I was fine with the concept. I had to put aside specifics and accept that basic concept. Justice for fae. An eye for an eye.
I had seen a man killed by Lloergan. While I'd acknowledged extenuating circumstances--the whole situation was tragic--he'd confessed to knowingly murdering fae who'd been no threat to him. When he'd tried to flee, and Lloergan killed him, I'd regretted the way that it happened, but deep down, my Cwn Annwn side accepted justice, harsh though it might seem.
I'd witnessed other cases, too, in Patrick's book on the Cwn Annwn. I'd watched those scenes unfold, and I had been able to nod and say, "Yes, this is correct."
So hold onto that. If it was justified in every case I have ever encountered, then it must be here, too.
As I moved into position, Brenin surged forward. The other hounds fanned out, ready to cut Johnson off if he veered from the path.
He did not veer. He hunkered down, as if buoyed by how far he'd gotten, thinking he could still do this, could still outrun them.
Then Brenin leapt.
The alpha cwn hit Johnson, and the man slammed face first into the ground. When Johnson flipped onto his back, Brenin lunged and pinned him.
But what if... The story... It doesn't make sense, and I need it to make sense.
Too bad. Too late. I should have investigated when Ioan gave me that option.
I am not okay with this.
But I would be. I had to be.
Get it over with. Just make the killing blow, and then I will leave, and I will work through the rest.
Brenin looked back at me. Our eyes met, and my stomach twisted.
He seemed to be awaiting a command. But Ioan said he didn't need one. He said Brenin would know what to do on his own.
The massive alpha just kept staring at me.
Just...just do it. Get it over with. I'll be okay with it. Eventually. Just--
Brenin stepped off Johnson. He continued backing away. The man rose, shakily. Johnson stared right at me. Then he turned and ran.
And the hounds did not pursue.
I spun on Ioan. "What the hell happened?"
"It was not the right time."
"Why?" I looked around. "We're in the forest. We brought him this far. You pronounced judgment."
I reached up to push off my hood, but it wouldn't budge. I ripped open the clasps, and the cloak fell onto Rhyddhad. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I nearly tumbled off the horse. Ricky grabbed my elbow.
"I did this, didn't I?" I said, my voice my own again. "I failed."
"What?" Ricky struggled out of his own cloak and let it fall as he rode forward. "No. You didn't do anything." He looked at Ioan. "Tell her she didn't do anything."
"She did not."
"But it's my fault they stopped," I said. "Brenin looked right at me. He needed something from me, and I didn't give it. You said there wasn't any command, that I didn't need to tell him..."
I trailed off and then looked at Ioan. "He sensed I had reservations. That's why he stopped. That's the command I need to give, isn't it?" I tapped my head. "Up here."
"No," Ricky said. He turned to Ioan. "If Liv was supposed to do or say or think anything, you would have told her that. You would never let her unintentionally sabotage a Hunt and then blame her for it. Because that would be a shitty, shitty thing to do."
"I'm not blaming her for anything," Ioan said, his voice calm.
Behind him, the Huntsmen had dispersed, giving us privacy. Johnson was long gone. So were several of the hounds, including Brenin.
"We can't just let him walk away," I said.
Ioan chuckled. "Oh, I believe he's running, actually. As fast as he can."
"Hey," Ricky said. "This isn't funny. What the hell just happened?"
"I didn't have faith," I said. "Ioan told me what Johnson did, and I had questions, and Brenin sensed that. I wasn't sure, and so I completely fucked up the Hunt. Now we've got a guy who saw the Hunt and escaped. And it's my fault."
I slid from Rhyddhad and stalked into the forest. I heard Ioan say, "Liv," and start after me, but Ricky stopped him.
"Is that what happened?" Ricky said to Ioan, his voice ringing behind me. "You tested her--failing to mention that it was a test? That is a fucking shitty thing to do, and she did not deserve it. She is here for you. To help you."
"I know," Ioan said. "Perhaps I went about this the wrong way."
"Perhaps?"
"But I don't think I did."
Footsteps tramped after me. I turned to see Ioan approaching, Ricky bearing down on him. When Ioan stopped, Ricky swung past, walking up beside me.
"If you want to go, we're gone," Ricky said.
"No, I want to hear how the hell the leader of the Cwn Annwn thought letting me screw up was a good idea."
"It was not a test," Ioan said calmly. "I knew you had questions. That was why I put you in the lead. To show that we will not do this while you have questions. If I'd insisted you investigate beforehand, you'd have refused. So I had to show you."
"At the cost of ruining a Hunt? Letting him get away to tell the world what he saw?"
"Hunts are ruined all the time, Liv. The circumstances aren't right or we're interrupted or we simply fail. Brenin will run Johnson until he collapses. Then one of my men will return him to his car. Johnson will wake behind the wheel, with a bump on his head to explain what he will mistake for a wild dream."
I headed back for the horses. "No. Let's get this over with. You said I didn't need to be there for the kill. So have Brenin bring Johnson around, and I'll hang back, and we won't have to worry about my lack of faith."
"As I said, no one expects you to have blind faith, Liv," Ioan said. "You aren't the only one with doubts here."
He looked at Ricky, who shrugged at me.
"Yeah, I do," Ricky said. "I didn't mention it because I thought that would make it worse for you. I don't doubt that this guy is guilty. My gut says he is. But does the punishment equal the crime? That's a whole other story. Unless you're a mass murderer, I don't think you deserve to be torn apart by giant hounds. But this guy doesn't deserve to walk around scot-free either. I'll accept this."
"I accept it, too," I said. "So we're good to go. Resume the Hunt--"
"No," Ioan said. "You are deeply uncomfortable with this, Liv. We've all seen that. You must get your answers. You must prove to yourself that Johnson is guilty."
"That isn't possible."
He frowned. "But that's what you do, isn't it? As an investigator?"
"Uh, no, I help set killers free."
The frown deepened. "What?"
"Gabriel is a defense lawyer," Ricky said slowly. "He keeps people out of jail. People like me. Like my dad. You do know what your son does for a living, right?"
Ioan waved that off. "You break laws. You don't commit murder. Or, I suppose, that might be naive. You haven't, Ricky. I would know otherwise. Whatever your father has done, it was in defense of others and to those who've chosen a similar way of life. That sort of crime doesn't concern us."
"But Gabriel..." I began. "Not everyone he defends has those excuses."
"It doesn't matter. That's human justice. If the court fails to find them guilty, they will still be punished in some way. That is how the world works." r />
I could point out that even the Cwn Annwn couldn't punish every crime against fae, but I kept my mouth shut. If Ioan believed I only set people free to face a more cosmic justice, it was best to let him keep that illusion.
"The point," Ioan said, "is that you know if Gabriel's clients are innocent or guilty. You discover that in your investigating. That is what you need to do here."
"It's not that..." Ricky began. Then he saw Ioan's expression and stopped.
"It's not that easy," I finished. "I'm not sure I can ever say, with absolute certainty, that someone is guilty."
Ioan only smiled and patted my shoulder. "Of course you can. That's what you do, Liv, and you're very good at your job. Tonight's Hunt is over. Take a few days, investigate and prove to yourself that Johnson is guilty. Then Brenin will see that you are satisfied, and we can finish this."
Seven
Gabriel
"He's right behind us," Rose assured Seanna, who kept glancing back as she was led into the living room.
Did Seanna sense Gabriel's urge to flee? It was possible--there had always been something feral in his mother, and while Rose might say that had been her lack of a conscience, Gabriel had gleaned enough from the elders to know she'd always had that, even as a child. A preternatural sense for trouble. A preternatural instinct for survival. Gifts of the fae, passed on to her son.
Rose sat Seanna on the couch and tried to take the spot beside her. Seanna made a noise, not unlike a dog's low growl of warning, and she reached for Gabriel.
"Gabriel can take the chair," Rose said.
"No, I want my son here."
"It's all right," Gabriel said, and he kept that mask firmly in place as he lowered himself to the sofa.
Seanna took hold of his hand, gripping it with ice-cold fingers.
"They wouldn't let me see you," Seanna said in her petulant-child voice. She aimed a glare across the room. "Rose said you were busy."
"I work in Chicago," Gabriel said. "My condo is also in Chicago. You know that. I cannot get here in an instant."