J.L. Doty - Dead Among Us 01 - When Dead Ain’t Dead Enough (2 page)

Chapter 1: Discovery

High Chancellor Cadilus knelt before the Seelie throne and lowered his eyes to look at the stone floor. That it was cold, lifeless stone was a reflection of the ill humor of Magreth, the Summer Queen. Cadilus spoke softly, “You summoned me, Your Majesty?”

Her voice rang through his thoughts. “Rise, Cadilus, and look upon us.”

He stood and raised his eyes slowly, and only now realized the depths to which trouble had touched the heart of the Seelie Court. His queen’s eyes blazed with fire, the pupils no longer visible, while the shadows of undeveloped, primordial Sidhe spirits danced about her flame-red hair. “There’s a stirring on the Mortal Plane, Cadilus, a restlessness the like of which I’ve not sensed in centuries.”

“I too have sensed a certain disquiet, Your Majesty. And I believe it extends to the Netherworld as well.”

She stood, and the shadows of the ancient spirits scattered to the far corners of the room like a flock of starlings startled by a hawk. “Yes, the Netherworld is troubled, and it looks hungrily upon the Mortal Plane. It looks with greed and desire. I feel that in my heart.”

She tensed, and with a visible effort the flames in her eyes died. The emerald green pupils she turned on Cadilus bored deep into his soulless heart. “Come. Walk with me. We’ll discuss this in private.”

With no more than a whim, the walls of the Seelie palace disappeared, and she and Cadilus now strolled down a path in a sumptuous garden, ripe with spring blossoms. Magreth spoke without emotion, “Portents have manifested.”

Cadilus looked at her carefully. “Portents, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. The Morrigan has taken notice.”

Cadilus made no effort to hide his surprise. “That is indeed dire news, Your Majesty. Which aspect has the triple goddess assumed?”

“I fear she’s assumed all three: sovereignty, prophecy and war.”

“Indeed, a most auspicious portent. We must be facing a time of change.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. She’d taken on the aspect of a young Sidhe girl, a child with ancient and troubled eyes. And the shadows of the old Sidhe spirits had returned, perhaps drawn to her to seek comfort in some way. “After centuries of weakening, the pathways between the Three Realms have strengthened, and increased in number. And the Morrigan has roused the non-aligned fey from their complacency.”

Her eyes radiated her anger and frustration, and Cadilus stood beneath her gaze without flinching. “Unaroused, the non-aligned fey are at worst a nuisance, Your Majesty, with their little tricks and games. But aroused to a common cause by the Morrigan, they could be a danger to all of Faerie. Tell me she hasn’t given them common cause.”

“I cannot say one way or another, Cadilus. I cannot tell you why she’s stirred the non-aligned. So I bid you—I task you—keep a close eye on this most unusual of developments. Watch closely all three Realms, and tell me of any change.”

Cadilus bowed deeply. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Old man Strath met him personally. “Paul, you’re looking good.” The surprise on his face was evident as he gripped both of Paul’s shoulders and held him at arm’s length. He looked him up and down with obvious joy. “You’ve gained back some weight.” Strath gave his shoulders a fatherly squeeze. “And you’ve put back on some of that muscle.”

“Ya,” Paul said. “I’m working out a bit, a little bit, and eating regular again—” He’d almost added,
now that Suzanna’s cooking for me again,
but he knew better than to say that. Strath wouldn’t understand.

“Come on in, Paul. Come on in.”

Paul followed Strath into his office. Strath offered him a seat on the couch he kept in the corner of his office and joined him there. “I gotta say, Paul. Last time I saw you—what, three months ago? You didn’t look too good. Looked like you needed a shave, and a bath, and you were damn near anemic. You had me really worried. But look at you now.”

“I just needed time. And it really helped that—” He bit back his words, clamped down on that thought viciously. He’d almost said,  . . .
that Suzanna and Cloe are back.

Strath missed the hesitation, looked him over again and grinned broadly. “Well whatever it took, I’m glad to see the old Paul’s back.”

“I’m not completely the old Paul, but close enough.”

Strath shook his head sadly. “Ya, nothing’ll ever bring back Suzanna and Cloe.”

“Ya, you can’t bring ‘em back,” Paul lied. “You can’t bring ‘em back.”

“So what can I do for you, son? What brings you here?”

“Well  . . .” Paul hesitated. “I need to ask a favor. It took me a while, but I’m no longer buried under a mountain of self-pity. I still miss them, and it still hurts, but I’m functioning again, as you can see, and I need to go back to work, and I was hoping  . . . well  . . . that  . . . maybe  . . .”

As Paul spoke, the look on Strath’s face slowly morphed from happiness to concern, then an almost painful grimace. “You want your old job back, huh?” Paul could see it coming. “Damn, I’m sorry, son, but I’ve already replaced you, and we’re a small firm, so I can’t carry any fat.”

At the pain on Strath’s face Paul said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” He started to stand.

Strath pushed him back down and said, “Wait a minute.” He stood and paced across the room, a thoughtful look on his face. “But, you know, I heard Carry’s looking for someone. And if not him, there’ll be someone else hiring. The industry’s picking up, and you’re a talented guy, and I can give you a great recommendation. I hate to see you go to the competition, but let me make some calls. I bet I’ve got something for you before you get home.”

They spent another half hour just chatting and catching up, though Paul was careful not to speak of Susanna and Cloe in the present tense. Then Paul took his leave.

Out on the street Paul decided to get a sandwich for lunch. He turned down Geary, and as he walked he scanned the street ahead for a place to eat, but that Suzanna-feeling came over him suddenly. It was hard to describe, but after Suzanna had died, whenever she came to him she brought with her an odd sense of comfort and a little tickle in the back of his soul, and he felt that now, on the street in broad daylight.

Stunned, he stopped and scanned the street again. A typical lunch-hour crowd jammed the San Francisco sidewalks with pedestrians, but up ahead near the corner he spotted a woman that, from behind, looked like she might be Suzanna. And as she turned the corner he caught a glimpse of her profile, and now he was almost certain it was her. He raced after her.

The Summer Knight of the Winter Court stood on the street corner impatiently. He wore a glamour that gave him the appearance of a young mortal dressed fashionably in a business suit. It wouldn’t do to have people wondering why an immortal Seelie Warrior with pointed ears stalked the streets of a mundane city in broad daylight.

The Morrigan, the triple goddess, the goddess of sovereignty, prophecy and war, had summoned Anogh in a dream, and he knew well that only a fool ignored such a demand. For some reason she’d wanted him on this street, on this corner, at this place and time, though, as is always the way of a goddess, she hadn’t enlightened him as to her reasons. It was a very ordinary day on a busy San Francisco street, and he stood there waiting, wondering what he was waiting for. And then the ghost of a pretty young woman walked past him, though ghosts didn’t ordinarily haunt city streets in the light of day. The apparition paused next to him, looked at him directly and smiled at him knowingly in the oddest way, then walked on.

Of course, he could see her only because he was a powerful Sidhe mage, and, until the young man bumped into him, he would’ve sworn that no one else on the street was aware of the specter walking in their midst. The young fellow apologized quickly and rushed on, chasing the ghost. Anogh knew the young man, or rather, had known him a long time ago but couldn’t recall how or when. And since a Sidhe mage never forgets such details, he knew the goddess was clouding his mind for some unknown godly reason. Anogh followed the fellow.

The ghost led the young man a merry chase. As he turned each street corner she was always a city block ahead of him, glimpsed for just an instant as she turned and vanished down another street. She was clearly guiding the young fellow to a destination of her choice, and only after he’d followed her for several city blocks did she turn into a store that sold expensive shoes to young mortal women.

Katherine McGowan paced back and forth in front of the mirror, admiring the new pair of Pradas. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford them. She wasn’t wealthy, but she had plenty of money, and she already had a closet full of nice shoes, though only a few pairs this expensive. One more pair was just an impractical extravagance, and if she bought them they’d constantly remind her of her ex-husband Eric, and how much he’d disapproved of her frivolous expenditures, even though it was her own money earned by her own efforts. She was a grown woman, and he’d never stopped treating her like a child.

“They look good on you, Dr. McGowan,” the clerk said. “They go nicely with that suit.”

Yes, they did look good,
she thought, looking at her reflection in the mirror. The Pradas were a nice touch, and they complimented the Vera Wang suit. And it wasn’t as if she had anything else to spend her money on, especially since she no longer needed to support that deadbeat ex-husband of hers. Eric would’ve been quite angry to see her buy these, so she turned to the clerk and said, “I’ll take them. And the matching purse, too.”

The clerk smiled happily and turned to ring up the sale, and it was at that moment that the ghost walked through Katherine’s aura. She gasped as a sensation of cold yearning washed through her, reached out and clutched at a display table to keep from collapsing to the floor. The ghost wasn’t visible, but she could feel it hovering about her. She sensed its anticipation and realized it had sought her out purposefully.

“Is something wrong?” the clerk asked. “Are you ok?”

The moment passed, the ghost was gone and Katherine said, “Ya, I’m fine.” She made up a little lie, though it was actually the truth. “Just had one of those moments that felt like a ghost walked over my grave.”

“Oh, I get those all the time,” the clerk said. She leaned close and whispered, “With me it’s usually a PMS thing.”

“Ya, I know what you mean,” Katherine lied, but she thought,
No, you don’t get them the way I do.

A tinkling bell drew her attention to the front door. A fellow about her own age walked in and let the door swing shut behind him. He was handsome and dressed well, and more out of reflex than anything else she glanced down at his left hand, noted with just a little satisfaction he wore no wedding ring. She looked into his eyes and liked what she saw so she smiled, and as he smiled back she caught herself involuntarily twirling a lock of her hair with her finger.

She pulled her eyes away from his and dropped her hand to her side, angry for reacting that way. She’d actually twirled a lock of her hair, acting like some horny little schoolgirl hoping for a Saturday night date with a cute guy. She wasn’t about to hit on some guy in a shoe store. Shoe stores and grocery stores were Eric’s style.

The clerk smiled at the fellow and said, “Feel free to look around, and I’ll be with you as soon as I’m done here.”

She looked at Katherine. “Will there be anything else, Dr. McGowan?”

“No,” Katherine said, “That’ll be all.” For some reason she couldn’t take her eyes off the young man, started to fantasize about him in her bed, had to clamp down on her thoughts to end that train of thought quickly.

He ignored the two women and scanned the store carefully with his eyes. He was obviously looking for something, and there was just a hint of desperation about him. Katherine suddenly realized he was looking for the ghost, and for the first time she paid attention to her arcane senses. Without doubt he too was a practitioner of the arcane, a strong one, and now she understood that he’d followed the ghost into the store.

He stepped further into the store, and when he was close enough Katherine whispered, “You don’t have to worry. It’s gone now.”

He started and looked at her, and his eyes narrowed with distrust. “She’s gone?” he asked warily.

She,
Katherine thought, the ghost of some woman who’d probably meant something to this man.

“Yes,” she said. “She’s gone.”

He nodded, turned and walked toward the entrance, but paused there and looked back at Katherine. Their eyes met for a long moment, a moment that should’ve been uncomfortable for two strangers, but wasn’t for some reason. Then he turned and stepped out of the store without another word.

Katherine McGowan,
Anogh thought,
the Old Wizard’s daughter. Amazing!

Anogh had assumed a glamour of invisibility and slipped into the shop on the young man’s heels. And he might’ve completely missed the connection had not the clerk called her by name:
Dr. McGowan
. He knew the old man’s daughter was a mortal physician of some kind, and he’d heard a vague description: thirtyish, pretty, brunette, nice figure. But merely the name and a description would not have been enough. Her arcane scent branded her, for she reeked of the Old Wizard as only family would. And the ghost had led the young man straight to her, purposefully, with single-minded determination and without deviation.