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“Vadim? There’s something showing up on my web that might interest you.”
Vadim Morosov turned from his glum contemplation of the Moscow skyline to see Alexei, one of the members of his team—no, strike that—his former team standing in the doorway of his darkened office. It was way past clocking-off time, but he’d been putting in some extra hours in a vain attempt to convince his boss that he was sincere and trustworthy.
Not that it was going to work. She was still pissed with him, and worse, he knew he deserved it.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be interacting with me, Alexei.”
The Fae’s already arched eyebrows rose even further. “Says who?”
“Our esteemed boss.”
Alexei shrugged. “Oh, her.”
“Yeah, the woman who can suspend you just like she did me.”
“She can’t afford to lose me. I’m too valuable.”
“And I’m not?” Vadim asked.
For a second the Fae looked almost serious. “ Makk , you know I didn’t mean it like that. She’s just crazy mad at you.”
Vadim sat back in his chair. “And rightly so. I killed one of my team members.”
Alexei leaned back against the door and folded his arms. “Well, that is debatable. Natasha wasn’t exactly the dependable type, was she?”
“She was completely dependable right up until she went nuts and screwed us all over.” Vadim shoved a hand through his dark hair. “And until that mess is cleared up, I’m stuck here doing quality control on past cases.”
“Not anymore.” Alexei smiled.
Vadim stiffened. “What’s going on?”
Alexei came in and shut the door. He activated his Fae-Web and Vadim tried to read its shifting images and words.
“There’s been a new outbreak of murders.”
“What kind?”
Silver images floated across Alexei’s skin, circling his head. “Your kind. Serial killer murders.”
“Where?” An all-too-familiar mixture of dread and excitement settled in his gut.
“In San Francisco.”
Vadim sighed. “ Damn . She’ll never let me go.”
“ She might not have a choice. This is big, Vadim, and you might be the only guy who can help them catch this killer.”
* * *
Ella paid the cashier at the one and only supermarket in Tiburon and then picked up her bag, ready for the walk back to her apartment. On her side of the bay, the sea was shining and lapping gently against the rock-strewn shore. On the other side, the city was barely visible through the encroaching fog and haze of congestion; only the stark parallel lines of the steep streets stood out like a giant tic-tac-toe puzzle.
She nodded friendly greetings to the dozens of joggers and bicyclists who relentlessly made their way up and down the sea path. About five minutes from home, when the path took a definite upward swing, she started to puff. At her age she could do with the exercise, but she’d never been that inspired to actually join a gym or anything proactive. Her crazy lifestyle kept her moving. She glanced up at Tom’s house as she passed and saw that the lights were on in the kitchen. Despite her stressful day and the bad feeling the murder had left in her gut, at least she’d be able to keep her promise and go over to help him sort out his little problem.
She dumped her shopping and keys on the countertop and took off her jacket. There was no sign of the guy from last night. He’d even cleaned up after himself and made the bed, which made her very happy.
The bucket of still-warm fried chicken she’d bought at the supermarket called out to her. Did the thing under the bed next door really need it all? Surely she deserved a wing or two. She took a plate from the cabinet over the sink, added a beer from the refrigerator and sat at the granite countertop to eat.
While she ate, she tried to picture Christa Morehouse and place her at the Otherworld Academy. She had a faint recollection of a shy girl who’d spent most of her time hiding behind her long curtain of mousey hair and talking in monosyllables. Even after spending three years with her, Ella couldn’t remember what subjects the other woman had excelled in or form any strong opinion about her at all. Christa hadn’t been a drinker, or hung out after class, because Ella would have remembered her. So what had changed? Why had the empath ended up drunk and alone in a new apartment with all her memories sucked out?
By the time she’d finished her chicken, the light was beginning to fade, so she headed for the shower and a change of clothes. She knew Dianna, Tom’s gran, would be delighted if she stopped by to spend the evening playing video games with her boisterous grandson. In her backpack along with her usual stuff, she put the latest in grandma-approved Pokémon games, and one that was first-person shooter and aimed at teens. That one was definitely not approved, but much more fun, especially for keeping her shooting skills sharp.
She locked up and took the shortcut over the fence to the back of Tom’s house. She could see Tom and Dianna sitting at the kitchen table, so she tapped lightly on the glass paneled door. When Dianna looked up, Ella waved.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” Ella came in and took a seat opposite Tom. She tossed the video game out on the table. “I’ve come to extract revenge from your grandson.” She stared at Tom. “Are you up for it?”
Dianna laughed and hugged her grandson. “She looks like she means business.”
Ella patted Tom on the back. “Come on, buddy. I hope your bedroom’s clean enough to receive visitors.”
“It’s okay,” Tom said as he shoved his chair away from the table. “Gran makes me clean up way too much.”
“I’ll bring you up some snacks later,” Dianna called.
Ella paused to look back at her. “I brought some chicken. I hope that’s okay?”
“Sure, that boy will eat anything.” Dianna chuckled. “I’ll bring some iced tea up then.”
“That would be awesome.”
Ella followed Tom up the stairs to his second floor bedroom, which had been converted out of two small attics. Exposed beams painted a soft cream crossed the ceiling and the triangular-shaped windows faced out over the bay and back at the steep hillside behind the house. When she was a kid, Ella would have died for a room like this. She’d had to share a room with three other kids at school where she’d been dumped, kicking and screaming, at the age of five. She’d been allowed to personalize her space, but it wasn’t the same.
While Tom set up the video game, she glanced around the room. The bed was against the interior wall and faced the door. The windows were on either side along with a double fitted closet. She gauged the distance between the bed and the various escape routes and considered where best to bait her trap.
“Tom, can you think of anything you do that makes the thing under the bed appear?”
“I don’t do anything.” He hunched a defensive shoulder and refused to look at her.
“I meant is there a particular time when the thing turns up?”
“When I get into bed.”
“Have you usually turned the lights out at that point?”
“I used to, but not anymore.”
She hated the vulnerability in his voice and understood it far too well. “So it doesn’t wait for it to be dark, then.”
“Not anymore.”
She hunkered down beside him on the rug. “We’ll play some games, wait until your gran checks in on you, and then we’ll set a trap, okay?”
He finally turned to look at her, his expression intent. “Do you really think we’re going to catch it?”
“Sure I do.” She hesitated. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s my job to catch stuff like this. That’s why I was glad when you told me what was going on, because I knew I could help.”
“Your job?”
She had his full attention now and she really didn’t want it. “Yeah, I can see the monsters. Because I know where they come from, I can send them back. It’s a secret, right? You can’t tell anyone, not even your family.” If it came down to it, she could wipe the memory from him quite easily, but, considering what he might be, that wouldn’t be her first choice. If he was an empath, he needed to understand his world and start to protect himself from it. She would help him build his shields without him even realizing it, because if her suspicions were correct, this wouldn’t be the last monster the kid saw.
“Okay.” Tom nodded. “Let’s play.”
* * *
“Mr. Morosov. Come in and shut the door.”
Vadim walked into Madame Dubinsky’s office and took the seat she indicated without a word. As usual, his boss looked impeccable, her dark hair drawn back into a neat ponytail, her tailored blue suit and brooch reminding him of uptight royalty the world over. She didn’t smile but he’d hardly expected her to. He was in deep shit and he knew it.
Her office was so heavily warded against magical interference that it always felt as if he was being smothered. He appreciated the fact that nothing could get in—he had family who just loved to interfere with his life—but it made it hard to focus. Although that was probably intentional too.
Madame studied her folded hands for a long moment before finally looking up at him. “We have a situation that requires international cooperation of the highest order.”
Vadim still didn’t speak but he allowed himself to look faintly interested.
“ Your cooperation as it happens.”
“But I’m suspended.”
“I know that, but I’ve been ordered to send you on this mission. Apparently no one else will do.”
The dryness of her tone indicated her skepticism as to that, but he didn’t care. “Exactly what is the mission?”
“The U.S. SBLE authorities have contacted us about a situation in the San Francisco Bay Area. They believe they have an Otherworld serial killer who is targeting empaths.”
Govno . “I hope not.”
“Apparently, when the SBLE in San Francisco were researching their supposed killer, they came across some similar traits to the last series of cases you worked on with Natasha. Alexei picked up the connections as well, and reported them to me.”
The mention of Natasha surely wasn’t a good sign. Due to the worldwide shortage of empaths, anyone who was involved in the death of an empath was viewed with extreme suspicion, whatever side of the law they were supposed to be on.
Madame looked him right in the eye. “They want you, and despite my reservations, I have been ordered to send you to aid their investigation. You will not fuck this up. You will represent your country and me, and do a good job or die trying. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Madame.” He inclined his head a respectful inch. “When do you want me to leave?”
“Tomorrow morning and take Alexei with you. His knowledge should help add to the overall picture.”
He wanted to ask why the SBLE team in San Francisco didn’t have Fae resources, but decided against it. Alexei was a pain in the ass, but at least he was company, and Vadim knew enough about the Fae not to trust his companion. Alexei would be reporting back to Madame about Vadim’s conduct—he’d bet his life on that. Madame passed a folder of papers across to him. “Read the intel and destroy the file. Alexei has already integrated the information into his Fae-Web, so you’ll have that to work with when you get there, in case you forget anything.”
Vadim stood up. “I won’t forget.”
She fixed him with her cool stare and the feeling of suffocation intensified. Her shields were so good that he had no idea what powers Madame did or didn’t have, but she scared the shit out of him anyway. He wanted to get out of that room more than he wanted to breathe.
“I expect regular reports on your progress, and if you put a foot wrong, or I hear any complaints about you, I’m bringing you back here and firing you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Madame.”
“Then I wish you a successful trip.”
He managed to smile and stroll casually toward the door as all his instincts screamed at him to run. Something about Madame set all his shapeshifter genes on alert. She was a dangerous woman to cross, and would live up to her promise to fire him if he fucked up again. And then what would he do with himself? Crawl back to Otherworld? He shook his head. It had taken him years to escape from his family, and many scars, not all of them visible. Even if he had to work with an empath again, he’d do it. He reached his office and started gathering up his stuff, a pulse of excitement beating in his heart. He’d rather die than go back. That sounded overdramatic but, in the present circumstances, it might just happen anyway.
* * *
By the time it was completely dark, Tom was yawning and Ella turned off most of the lights, leaving the room bathed in the glow from the TV screen and a nightlight that illuminated the door. She put her backpack on the bed, and pulled out the remains of the bucket of chicken and various other things, the most important of them being her gun.
Tom’s fingers headed straight for her weapon and Ella smacked them away. “Don’t touch that. It’s loaded.”
“I knew you were going to say that, but I had to try.”
“Look, if you want to help me, you have to do what I say. No independent thinking allowed here.”
“You sound like my teacher at school.”
She sat cross-legged on the bed with him so that she had his full attention. “We want to coax the creature out, so we’re going to use the chicken as bait. If it is what I think it is, it loves eating chicken almost as much as small children.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not really.” Ella gazed down at her open-mouthed helper. “In the old days this creature often took small children and babies because they were easy prey. Nowadays, because food is so plentiful here, they tend to go for the easy option, which is take-out from the trash bins.”
“Oh, like the seagulls and the pigeons in the park.”
“Exactly.” Ella placed the chicken on the floor beneath the bed. “So, you’re going to lie down and pretend you’ve fallen asleep.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to hide under the bed behind the chicken.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. If it looks like it is getting away from me, I want you to smack it on the head with something heavy.”
“Like my baseball bat?” Tom scrambled off the bed and returned with the sturdy bat in his hand.
“That’s perfect. You can hide it under your covers. But remember, only hit the thing, and not me, okay?”
“Okay.” Tom settled himself back beside her on the bed. “What if I kill it?”
“They have very hard heads, so that’s unlikely, but if the creature hasn’t listened to my warnings it deserves anything you can throw at it.” She patted Tom’s scabbed knee. “Are you ready, then?”
“I suppose so.”
She smiled at him encouragingly. “It will be fine. These things aren’t very brave really, that’s why they pick weaker prey.”
“Then why do they want me?”
She hesitated. He didn’t really need to know that it was probably his emerging empath powers that made him irresistible to Otherworld creatures. She settled on a lesser version of the truth. “You bring a lot of food up here, don’t you? Once the thing has gotten used to an easy source of food, he’ll stick around.”
Tom shivered. “I won’t do it anymore.”
“After tonight, you won’t have to worry about that. You’ll be able to eat whatever you like, whenever you like.” She gave him a quick hug. “Now you settle down for the night, and I’ll turn off the TV and then get under the bed.”
While Tom stretched out, she settled herself under the bed and positioned the bucket of chicken temptingly in front of her. Outside, the trees rustled and sighed to the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean breeze. She waited for the first telltale hint of magic to reach her and gripped her gun and flashlight more tightly. A rustling sound from the closet drew her attention, and she peered through the darkness at the shape moving toward her and the chicken.
Tom sighed and the thing paused, giving her a clearer view of coal black eyes and a piglike nose. It sniffed the air and crawled closer, one long bony arm outstretched to hook around the bucket of chicken. As its clawed fingers curved around the container, she moved forward and grabbed hold of its hairy wrist.
“SBLE. Stay where you are.”
The thing gave a startled shriek and tried to scrabble backward, but Ella held on to it and allowed herself to be pulled along as well. She locked one arm around the creature’s throat and held on despite its thrashing, ignoring the scratch of claws on her jeans and bare arms. When she pressed the barrel of her gun to its big shaggy head, it went still.
“That’s better.” She tightened her grip. “You know you’re not allowed to frighten kids. What the hell are you doing here?”
In a sudden flurry of bedclothes, Tom sat up and swung his baseball bat dangerously near her head. “What is it, Ella? Can I see it?”
“Sure, get my flashlight.”
Tom bent to pick up her discarded flashlight and turned it on full beam making Ella blink hard.
“Ew, it sure is gross,” Tom said. “All hairy. It’s kind of like a cross between a monkey and a spider.”
“Yeah, it is.” Ella didn’t loosen her grip as Tom stared in fascination at the creature. “You’ll probably know it better as a troll.”
“Like the internet ones or the one under the bridge with the goats?”
“The goat one. They’ve been around for a long time. As a species, they are usually quite harmless, unless they feast on human flesh and get a taste for it.”
The troll hissed. Tom jumped and picked up his baseball bat again.
“I want the chicken, not the child.” The words were issued in a sibilant whisper that she understood more at a basic empath level rather than as speech.
“You sure about that?” She forced herself to delve into the troll’s mind. She couldn’t allow him to hang around Tom if he ate humans. He’d consider a young empath a true delicacy.
“Stop, soul sucker,” the troll squealed. “I don’t want the child!”
Ella twisted around so that she could stare into the troll’s ageless black eyes. “Do you swear it on the lives of your brood?”
“I swear it! If you get your filthy hands off me, I will leave this place and never return.”
“Or tell anyone else about what you found here.”
The troll blinked slowly at her, his gaze deadly. “Or tell my brood about the tasty little empath.”
She nodded, then removed her gun from his head. “You know I can force the memory from your head.”
“We all know that, soul sucker,” the troll said. “That’s why we hate you. I’ll not return.”
“Good.” Ella looked up at Tom. She wasn’t sure how much of the conversation he’d understood. “If he comes back, you’ll tell me, won’t you, Tom?”
“Sure.”
She reached for the bucket of chicken. “Shall we let him have this as a going-away present?”
“Sounds good to me.”
She thrust the chicken into his bony hands. “Here you go. Now get out and don’t ever come back, because if you do, I’ll suck out your every thought and then I’ll kill you.”
The troll nodded and scuttled back into the darkness and out of the window. After a long moment the scraping sounds of his descent ceased, and Ella let out her breath. “I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“I hope not.” Tom was regarding her curiously. “Why was he so scared of you?”
She shrugged. “Because I held a gun to his head?”
“It wasn’t just that. He was even more scared when you said you’d suck out his brains.” He hesitated. “Is that why he called you a soul sucker?”
“I have no idea.” She stood up and stretched out her legs. “I have to get some sleep. I’ll see you soon, okay?” He opened his mouth to ask another question, but she forestalled it by kissing the top of his head and walking to the door. “Sleep tight, and give my love to your gran.”
“Thanks, Ella. You’re awesome. I will.”