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Vadim looked up as Alexei joined him in the larger of the conference rooms. The Fae wore an immaculate charcoal gray suit with a silver tie and white shirt. His long hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and his expression reminded Vadim of a purring cat.

“Where were you all weekend?”

Alexei fluttered his eyelashes. “Having fun. Why?”

“No particular reason.” Vadim sat back in his chair and studied his partner. “It would be nice if you’d let me know your plans in future.”

“You’re not my mother.” Alexei took a seat at the table.

“No, but I am your superior on this assignment and I need to be able to get in touch with you.”

“If you’d really needed me, I would’ve heard you.”

Vadim thought back to those frantic moments in the elevator. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“What’s up?” Alexei asked.

“Don’t you start saying that,” Vadim groaned. “I hate it.”

“Okay, let me try again. Why are you in such a bad mood?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Alexei stared hard at him. “You need to get laid.”

Vadim smiled.

“No, seriously, Vadim, you’ve enough Fae blood in you to make it a necessity.”

“I’ve never liked that Fae excuse for debauchery and I don’t intend to use it.” Vadim looked up at the door. “Feehan’s here and I see Liz and Ms. Walsh just behind her.”

What the hell was Ella wearing today? She had a tie-dye shirt on and a pair of baggy denim overalls that were ripped at the knee. Her hair was in two braids on either side of her face. She looked like she’d just come in from raking the hay or something. Despite that, he found himself sitting up and sniffing the air like a bloodhound. She looked in his and Alexei’s general direction and muttered something vague but didn’t make eye contact. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t fool him any longer.

After she’d left him to go on the ferry, he’d struggled to know what to do with himself. Feeling conflicted wasn’t a new sensation but he still didn’t like it. Despite his resolve to protect Ella and see the case through, he disliked not knowing how she felt about him and what conclusions she would draw about their relationship when he wasn’t there to interact with her. He’d spent the remainder of the weekend doing tourist stuff, research on empaths from all over the world and taking cold showers. If she smiled at him, he might leap over the table and take her to the floor and…

“Everyone here?” Feehan asked.

Sam burst through the door wearing a pair of dark shades. “Sorry, guys.”

“Take a seat.”

Everyone waited as Sam settled himself down and took out a tatty folder with a picture of a skateboarder on it.

“Who wants to start?”

Vadim raised his hand. “I checked out the remaining empaths from outside the U.S. in Ms. Walsh’s graduating year. All the Russians are dead, as are the Norwegians, Swedes and Danes.” He consulted his notes. “A total of nine in all.”

Feehan wrote the details on the board.

Alexei glanced at Liz. “Would the rest of you agree that our killer seems to follow a pattern here? He likes to finish a job. From the dates Vadim gave us, the Siren has gone from country to country systematically murdering empaths.”

“Why hasn’t anyone noticed before?” Feehan stopped writing and turned around.

“Probably because the numbers in each country were relatively small until he reached Russia.”

“I have another suggestion.” Sam waved his hand in the air like a school kid. “From what I’ve seen so far, does he also kill them in alphabetical order?”

“What?” Feehan stared at Sam who opened his folder.

“Well, I spent a bit of time last night looking at all the empaths who had been killed so far in the U.S. I noticed that the ones who are left, all have names that are at the end of the alphabet and the last one to die was Laney Phillips.”

Vadim felt Ella’s wince in his head and glanced across at her. She immediately looked away.

“And the previous victim was Christa Morehouse,” Feehan added. “So who’s left?”

“There are four.” Liz went over to the whiteboard and started writing.

Jodi Petrello Fay Roberts Ella Walsh Trini Yamada

“And do we know the whereabouts of Ms. Petrello and the rest of them?”

Sam looked up. “I’m still working on it.”

“Then work faster. We might need to put a guard on these women.”

“I think I’m okay, boss.” Ella glanced around the table. “I feel fairly well protected.”

Vadim opened his mouth to say something about him being all the protection she would ever need and then realized he couldn’t. That galled him far more than he would have expected.

“Anything else?” Feehan asked.

“Have we checked out the two male empaths who graduated with Ella yet?” Alexei said.

Vadim turned to stare at Alexei, who sat at ease in his chair. “Why would we do that?”

“Because the killer is male, and maybe one of these men—who would know all these American woman personally—might have lost it and turned to murder.”

“Mike Nichols and Paul Baker,” Ella said.

“That’s their names?” Alexei nodded to Liz and both of their Fae-Webs shimmered and expanded to meet over the table.

“I can’t see either of them having the nerve to be a serial killer, though. Most nights, they were too scared to come out with the girls for a drink.” Ella half-smiled.

“Do you keep in touch with them?”

“Not really. I think Mike moved across the east coast. I have no idea where Paul went.”

“Who would know?”

“Either SBLE or the Merton office in Otherworld.” Feehan wrote the new names up on the board. “I’m unsure of the protocol. Do male empaths get offered mates?”

Ella reached for her coffee. “Yeah, they do.”

“Do we know if these guys are already mated?” Alexei asked.

Ella shrugged. “I have no idea. You’d have to check with Otherworld.”

“I can do that.”

Vadim tensed as Ella stood up. “I’m going to get more coffee. I’ll be back in a sec.”

He waited a moment, and then followed her out. She knew he was there, but she kept her attention on the vending machine. He waited impatiently for her to face him.

“What’s up, Morosov? Do you need a dollar again?”

He smiled as he remembered his first sight of her and his prediction that she would be trouble.

“No, I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Alarm flashed across her face. “I thought we’d agreed to keep that to ourselves.”

“Not that . Don’t you think it is odd that no one has mentioned anything about what happened with the elevators on Friday?”

“In what way?”

“I would assume the SBLE review the security tapes, so why hasn’t someone called Feehan asking what the hell we were up to?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“We need to tell Feehan what happened.” She opened her mouth, and he kept talking. “Not all of it. Just the part about us getting stuck in the elevator.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t feel right.”

“Do you think we were set up?”

“It’s possible.”

“By whom?”

“That’s a great question. But if someone or something managed to get in here and disrupt SBLE security, Feehan needs to know about it.”

She met his gaze and he couldn’t look away. Without further thought, he reached for her, only to have her step back.

“Don’t.”

He dropped his hand to his side, his fingers curling into a fist. “I’m not sure if I can stop myself.”

“We’re at work.”

“Then come back to the hotel with me at lunchtime.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was never the pursuer.

She shook her head and an inhuman growl attempted to work its way out of his chest. Her brown eyes widened.

“I’ve got to go on a case.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe you could come back home with me tonight instead?”

“I’d be honored.” He inclined his head. “Now shall we go and tell Feehan about what happened on Friday night?”

“If we must.”

He wanted to take her hand, but instead, turned on his heel and went back into the conference room holding the door open for Ella to pass by him. Her denim-clad ass bumped against his groin and he was instantly hard. Thankfully, he was wearing dark pants so he hoped no one would notice.

“There’s something Ms. Walsh and I think you should know,” Vadim announced.

“You’re getting married?” Alexei’s smile was a mixture of sweetness and pure malice.

“Yeah, right.” Ella snorted. “Last Friday night, Morosov and I were the last people here. When we met at the elevators, I found the stairwell was off-limits thanks to maintenance.”

“Wait a minute,” Feehan interrupted. “I wasn’t told about that.”

“Neither was I,” Ella added. “Or I would have left earlier. Morosov persuaded me I could face the elevator for a few seconds, so I followed him into the car. Just as the doors opened at the lobby level, the elevator shuddered and fell back down the shaft.”

“Holy cow!” Sam whistled. “Did you freak out?”

“I did. Luckily, Morosov kept his head and we managed to climb out of the service hatch, and back up to the lobby.”

“We were wondering why no one had mentioned it,” Vadim said. “Don’t you receive security reports, Mr. Feehan?”

“I do. I saw nothing about any of this.” Feehan took off his glasses and stared at Ella and Vadim. “Are you quite sure?”

Ella put her coffee down. “Do I look like the sort of person who would make stuff up about being stuck in an elevator with an irritating Russian?”

Feehan held up a placatory hand. “No, of course not. I wonder if we can review the security tapes?”

“Why don’t you do that while I go and sort out this little problem for the Bonetti family on Folsom Street?” Ella picked up her backpack. “The owners think they have a poltergeist. One of the waiters isn’t so sure.”

Vadim grabbed his jacket. “I’ll come with you.” She was already moving. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Yes he does,” Feehan raised his voice to her departing back. “You need someone with you at all times.”

Ella’s answer and gesture was luckily too far away for Feehan to register, although Vadim got the gist of it. He kept after her, taking the elevator as she took the stairs and meeting her in the lobby.

“I’m coming with you.”

“All right .” She glared at him. She seemed even crankier since they’d mated than before. He didn’t mind, knowing he was the cause and that it meant he was getting to her. “But don’t touch me and don’t get in the way, okay?”

* * *

It was busy out on the streets and grew even more congested as Ella headed deep into tourist central, at the other end of Market, where the famed trolley buses turned around. The place was noisy with street vendors, bums, and the occasional crazy person. San Francisco always had a nice line of crazy, and it all came out when the sun hit the sidewalks. Ella sidestepped three guys and their bedding huddled in a doorway and ignored a smiling clown jiggling a cup in her face. The smell of onions made her pause and Vadim ran right into her.

“Do you want a hotdog?” Ella asked.

His revolted expression was almost enough to brighten her day. “From a street vendor?”

“Sure. I haven’t been sick once.” She handed over a five-dollar bill with instructions to put everything on her dog. “Well, not really sick.”

Vadim watched in fascinated horror as she chomped on the bun and kept walking. There was one thing you could say about comfort food. It never let you down.

“Where exactly are we going?”

She pointed up the street that ran almost parallel to Market. “There’s a diner above one of the big drugstores up here. It’s been in the same family for several generations.”

“And they think they have a poltergeist?”

“Apparently. I said I’d go and check it out.”

“What do you think it is?”

“I won’t know until I get there.”

“But it’s lunchtime. Won’t they be too busy to talk?”

“I’m not going to talk right away. I’m going to eat.”

She veered off to her left. “Here it is. Right up these stairs.”

Once they got above ground level, the space opened up considerably giving the diners a great view of the teeming hordes below the windows. It was decked out in traditional style with Formica topped tables, chrome fittings and red plastic leatherette booths. The place was three-quarters full and the smell of fried food and maple syrup hung thick in the air. She breathed it in appreciatively. A harried looking waiter approached them.

“Two please.”

He nodded, picked up two huge plastic covered menus and led them to a small table close to the half-exposed kitchen. There was a lot of yelling going on, but it didn’t sound too bad. She’d heard far worse on previous visits, and even seen some hapless waiter chased out of the kitchen by a hail of pots.

“Are you really going to eat here?” Vadim looked around the busy space.

“I’m hungry.”

“What about that hotdog you just had?”

“That was just an appetizer.”

He looked down at his menu, one eyebrow raised in a way Ella wished she could emulate. “What would you recommend?”

“I’m a big fan of the cheeseburger and sweet potato fries followed by the banana split.”

A reluctant smile curved his lush lower lip. “I remember banana splits.”

“We could share one if you like.”

“That’s very tempting.” He studied the menu again. “There’s definitely some Otherworld magic swirling around in here.”

“You feel it too?”

“Hard to miss.”

“Let’s eat and see if we can get the waiter who called in his suspicions to the SBLE hotline to talk to us. I think he’s one of the Bonetti cousins, so he’s family.”

Another dark-haired waiter appeared and Ella checked out his nametag. “Hey, are you Mark?” She held out her hand. “I’m Ella Walsh from the SBLE. This is my colleague, Vadim Morosov.”

Mark briefly shook hands. “Thanks for coming. I talked to my uncle. Despite his initial blustering, he’s quite relieved I did something about this.”

“That’s good to know. How about we eat our lunch and get a feel for the place, and then maybe you can come and tell us what’s been going on?”

Mark smiled for the first time. “That’s not a problem. It’s also on the house. I’ll get your food and take my break when you’re done. Now what can I get you?” Vadim chose the spinach salad and the banana split.

Despite his disapproving stare, Ella went for the double cheeseburger and fries.

After the server left, he gave her a serious look. “That excuse of yours about eating what you like because you’ll die young is no longer valid. You are going to have to start taking care of your body.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You’re still not convinced you’re going to live, are you?”

“Well, would you be?” She rested her chin on her fist. “I don’t think I’ll believe it until way after my twenty-seventh birthday.”

“Which is when?”

“In about ten days.” She made a face. “My mom left me a message this morning asking me to come and spend next weekend with them to get my presents. She sounded like she was arranging a wake.”

“She’s probably worried about you.”

“I suppose so.” She sat back as the waiter put two glasses crammed full with ice and water on the table. “I’m not sure what she wants from me. Why buy me anything if she knows I’m not going to make it? What did she get me? Three wishes from a genie? A burial plot?”

“Maybe she still has hope?”

Ella stared into Vadim’s calm blue eyes and thought about how he looked when he was having sex. “You’ve met her. She’s not like that. She always thinks I’m going to fail.”

“I understand why your relationship is fraught with difficulties, but she is still your mother.”

“The mother who sent me away to school because she was scared of me.”

“You told your brother you were drawing Otherworld creatures to the house and that it was probably for the best you were sent away.”

“I said that to make him feel better. It doesn’t mean I actually meant it.” His unconvinced expression dared her to continue. “Okay, so I’ve done therapy. I know as an intelligent adult that me leaving was the best thing for everyone. I still hated it and I have a childish tendency to lash out at my mother.”

“At least you acknowledge it.”

“Yeah, I’m great like that.” Ella looked away and rearranged her silverware. “This is getting far too profound for a lunchtime chat.”

He shrugged. “We’re linked. We can be as intimate as we like. I won’t tell anyone.”

She fixed him with her most challenging stare. “How come you know so much about this empath mating thing?”

“Because I had nothing to do all weekend, so I did some research, called a few friends, infiltrated some Fae-Webs…”

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“About us bonding?” He shook his head. “I told you I wouldn’t do that yet.”

“Apparently, if I agree to the match, we’re supposed to get a ton of paperwork from OCOS telling us what to expect.”

“Shame we missed that.”

She gave him a bright smile. “I don’t know. We seem to be managing quite well by ourselves. I hate reading instructions anyway. Oh, look. Food.”

She made Vadim try her cheeseburger and he reluctantly agreed that it was rather good. He offered her some of his spinach, but when she pretended to gag he retreated and focused on forking the obnoxious slippery greenery into his mouth. She liked watching him. He was incredibly neat and cut the food up into similar size bundles before eating them.

When the banana split was placed in front of him, he moved it into the center of the table. It was a sight to behold. Three types of ice cream, a whole banana— one half on each side—whipped cream, nuts and cherries on top.

“A classic. It’s almost a shame to dig into it, but I’ll force myself.”

“Be my guest.” Vadim gestured at her with his long spoon. “I won’t be able to eat all of it.”

“Don’t worry about that. Desserts are my specialty.”

He took a small scoop of the strawberry ice cream and Ella watched his expression change.

“Good?”

He smiled at her and she almost forgot to swallow. “To borrow a phrase from you—that is awesome.”

“I think they make their own ice cream.”

“You can tell.”

It didn’t take long for them to finish the whole thing and then Mark reappeared, took away the remaining plates and sat down beside Vadim.

“My uncle wants to talk to you. I hope that’s okay?”

“Sure, we can pop into the kitchen after this.” Ella pushed her water glass out of the way. “So, what’s been happening?”

Mark grimaced. “For the last month or so, every time we open up, the kitchen is a mess. There are broken plates, spilled water, smashed glasses…”

“Do you have a security system?”

“Yeah, that’s the kicker. We upgraded it recently so we have cameras and everything.”

“And nothing is showing up?”

Mark hesitated. “Well, there is something , but it’s not so much a person as a green, swirling mist.” He attempted a laugh. “That sounds ridiculous, right?”

“Not at all,” Ella reassured him. “What do your uncle and aunt think is causing this?”

“They think it’s a poltergeist.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they recently gave a job washing up to their youngest grandson, my sixteen-year-old cousin Erik.”

“And they think Erik is creating the disturbances?”

“Yeah, because he’s been in a lot of trouble recently at school: drugs, alcohol, you know the kind of stuff. They gave him the job to help him straighten himself out. He’s not taken to the working life real well and they reckon adolescents can cause disturbances in the psychic field.” He grinned. “What can I say? My auntie Vita watches a lot of crap TV.”

“It makes sense, though. Do you think Erik could be doing it?”

Mark shrugged. “If it is him, it’s not deliberate.”

“What do you think it is?” Vadim asked.

Mark’s gaze switched to Vadim. “This is going to sound strange, but when I looked at the footage, I was sure that I could see something solid at the center of the mist.”

“And what did it look like?”

“Green, short and spiky.”

“That’s interesting.” Vadim looked at Ella, his eyebrow raised. “What do you think, Ms. Walsh?”

Ella stood up. “I think you might be on to something, Mark. I know it’s still busy, but can we go into the kitchen now?”

* * *

Vadim followed Ella and Mark into the surprisingly modern kitchen at the back of the diner. All the surfaces gleamed either white or silver. The staff moved in a blur of speed and efficiency watched over by a small, loud-mouthed man at the pass. It was a kitchen even he would be happy to eat in.

The short, gray-haired man stopped shouting out orders and came toward them, his expression fierce. Mark held up his hand.

“These are the folks from the SBLE, Uncle Roberto.” Roberto wiped his hand on his apron and stuck it out. “You are like the X - Files , yes?” His gaze slid down over Ella’s baggy overalls. “Although you are no Scully.” Vadim fought a smile.

Ella shook Roberto’s hand. “I don’t want to get in the way, but can I ask you a couple of questions?”

He nodded.

“Firstly, can I view your security camera data, and secondly, did you recently update your kitchen?”

“Mark will show you the camera tapes, and yes, we did update the kitchen. This building was constructed not long after the last big earthquake in the 1900’s. The plumbing and ventilation were no longer up to current Californian health and safety standards. We had no choice.” He frowned. “Why, is it important?”

“Sometimes when renovations are made on a building, the inhabitants don’t like it.”

“The ghosts, you mean?”

“Maybe, but that’s not all that might live here.” Ella smiled. “Let me check the security data, and then I’ll be more certain of what we are dealing with.”

Mark took them through into the back office, which smelled deliciously like cinnamon buns, and showed Ella how to work her way through the security camera data. He went back to the front of the house, leaving them alone. Vadim stood behind Ella and watched the screen intently.

“What do you think it is, then?” he finally asked. “I’m not sure, but green, short and spiky doesn’t sound like either poltergeist activity or a ghost.”

“It sounds like something from Otherworld.”

“Yeah.” Ella froze the picture. “Do you see that, Morosov? That thin trail of mist rising up from the floor?” He leaned in closer and breathed in the scent of fried onions. He’d never thought it was attractive before…

“Yes. Where is it coming from?”

“Let’s back it up a few frames. Look at where the water is pooling on the floor.”

He saw it then, the beginning of the mist seeping out in a thin trickle from between the cupboards below the three industrial-sized metal sinks. “It lives under the sink?”

“In the plumbing probably. I should imagine that remodel must have destroyed whatever it calls home. No wonder it’s mad. I’ll let the film run on a bit longer now, and see if we can actually identify this thing.”

“There it is.” Vadim pointed at the screen and Ella stilled the footage. “Definitely green and pointy. What do you think it is?”

She leaned back and almost collided with his nose. “I’m thinking some kind of small Fae. We’ll have to come back tonight and catch it in the act.”

“And what will you tell the Bonettis?”

“The truth.”

“Is that wise?”

She regarded him steadily. “I always tell Otherworld victims the truth before I replace the memory. I think they deserve to know.”

“Even if they won’t remember it?”

“Absolutely.” She must have sensed his confusion because she continued. “I think the mind remembers everything, and even if I do my job, there is still a remnant of the truth left in a human’s subconscious.”

“Like the way every culture has similar myths and fairytales?”

“Exactly, a collective subconscious fear.”

He resisted the urge to kiss the top of her head, then stood back to allow her to stand. “What time do we need to be back here tonight?”

“From the security camera log, the culprit tends to appear around 3:00 a.m., so we’d better be in place at midnight.” She went over to the door. “I’ll okay it with Mr. Bonetti and meet you downstairs, all right?”

He nodded his agreement and waited until she left. Was she finding it as hard to be physically close to him as he was to her? She seemed even pricklier than usual, and keen to get away, but then he was hardly his normal, calm self either. He walked out through the restaurant and down the dark stairs to the street. The noise and heat hit in a dirty, dusty wave and he almost recoiled. He didn’t like feeling so on edge. It reminded him of his childhood, when the wrong word could mean death or worse. In order to avoid the vilest excesses of his parents, he’d learned early to avoid antagonizing them, but sometimes that hadn’t been enough. Sometimes he had to stand up and face them with all the weapons of his forebears, both magical and physical, at his disposal. And even then that hadn’t always saved those he loved… But he’d learned from that and then they’d learned to fear him.

And now here he was, the scourge of Otherworld, afraid of being rejected by a mouthy, tiny blonde who ordered him around and never let him know exactly where he stood with her. Somewhere deep in Otherworld, he guessed someone was laughing.