Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel (11 page)

“Owen's here. Use him,” Kailen said. He ducked beneath a swipe of the grushound's claws. “Change the hound. You may not have the energy for a large transformation, just do something.” He brought his sword between his body and the grushound's snapping jaws.

Owen still sat at our table, frozen. “Owen!” I called out. “Get over here.”

He shook his head, his face pale, his jaw slack. “Oh no, I am not getting any closer to that thing.”

“So you're going to leave me to do all the work again,” I said.

“Again? What about all those times I cooked you breakfast?”

And left a huge mess in the kitchen? “Yeah, you really pulled your weight around the house.” The mixture of anger, hurt, and humiliation filled my chest, just as it had before I'd turned the coffee to iced tea. I was more aware of it this time, though, more in control. The grushound. I turned back toward Kailen. It had scored a scratch on his leg and it crouched low to the ground, ready to pounce again.

I did the first thing that came to my head, worried if I waited any longer I'd lose my grip on the emotions.

A pair of big brown eyes appeared beneath the grushound's hair, in the area where there had only been a blank space of flesh. Its growl stopped. Its head moved from side to side, and it blinked. The hound looked somehow less threatening with the brown eyes of a dog.

Kailen caught my glance, eyebrows up. “That's what you came up with?” he whispered. “I thought you'd turn it into...I don't know...a mouse or something.”

The grushound's ears pricked. Instead of leaping for Kailen, though, it sat on its haunches and whined.

“It's confused,” I said. “We should get out of here before it gets less confused.”

Kailen backed away slowly, keeping his body between me and the hound. “Out the door,” he said quietly. “Get out the door.”

I checked to make sure Owen had received this direction. He nodded to me and then rose from his chair and backed toward the door. The grushound didn't move, its rump firmly on the floor. It lifted its gaze to the ceiling, its brow knit.

We backed out of the cafe, Owen first, then me, then Kailen, sword still upraised. As soon as the door shut behind Kailen, Owen grabbed me. “We're alive! We're still alive,” he said in a frantic whisper. Before I could react, he leaned down and kissed me. For a second, it almost felt sort of nice. There was something familiar and wonderful about his lips, like coming home after a long trip. Despite the little bit of padding Owen had put on in the past seven years, with his curly brown hair and gray eyes, he was not unattractive.

And then the memories of the past few days came crashing down on me. I pushed him back and reached into my pocket. My fingertips met Jane's body, her brown fur trembling at my touch. I pulled her out and lifted her before me.

“Owen, this is Jane. Jane, your mistress.”

Both Owen and the mouse recoiled.

“You can’t be serious,” Owen said.

“Yes. You saw what I did to the grushound. Well, this is what I did to Jane.”

His Adam’s apple jumped as he swallowed in the ensuing silence.

Kailen snapped his sword shut, the sound catching our attention. “This isn't the time for chatting.” He didn't look either of us in the eye, squinting against the setting sun as he looked toward the car. “Or kissing.”

I'm not sure why I felt a prickle of shame at his words. Owen and I were still married, technically. There really wasn't anything improper about him kissing me. I tucked Jane back into the pocket of Kailen's coat. She squeaked and curled into a ball.

“Come on,” Kailen said. “It’s time to go to the Aranhods. You can change Jane back before we cross over.”

We piled into the car, Kailen and I in the front, Owen in the backseat. The grushound didn't chase us this time as we pulled away.

“So who are the Aranhods?” Owen asked, his voice casual. I checked the rearview mirror and saw him stretched back, hands behind his head, gaze out the side window.

“You know,” I said, “you're taking all this awfully well. You just saw me perform magic on a monster, and I showed you what I did to Jane.”

“I guess,” Owen said. He shrugged. “I suppose it makes you a lot more interesting than you used to be, at least.”

More interesting? What did he mean by that? Yes, I'd been very involved in my work, but I also enjoyed other things—hiking and traveling namely. Owen didn't like to hike, so we'd never done that together, and I'd let my boots get dusty. And traveling? Well, Owen hated planes, and I'd fulfilled that need mostly through my job. Owen liked rock concerts, watching sports, and video games. What did Owen find interesting in a person? A mousy demeanor? I opened my mouth to reply, but Kailen spoke again.

“Your first crossing will feel strange,” he said, “but I'll guide you through it.”

Now I had something else to worry about other than my collapsing marriage. Strange? What did he mean by that? I hoped strange wasn't a euphemism for “painful” or “extremely uncomfortable” in Fae.

We hit a red light and I turned on the radio to fill the silence.

“…body has just been found in the parking lot of the building that houses several businesses, including Frank Gibbons, Inc.” My ears pricked and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I didn’t think it possible, but I could have sworn the silence became more silent. Everyone, including Mousy Jane, held their breaths. “Due to the state of the remains, it appears to be the work of the same killer who murdered Nicholas Frank and Maryann Lacoste the week before. The body hasn’t been completely pieced together yet, so it has not yet been identified, but we’re being told the victim is Anne Reede.”

The light had turned green, but Kailen didn’t move. The car behind us honked.

“Anne…” My mouth seemed to move of its own accord. I’d spoken to her, just this morning. How could she be dead? Though the sky was overcast, it was broad daylight. Someone had abducted her, killed her, dismembered her, and dropped her off in our parking lot, all in the span of a couple hours. It didn’t seem possible.

I slammed the radio power button so hard my joints hurt. Kailen hit the gas and we surged forward.

I didn’t hate Anne, and now I wished I could take back every unkind thought I’d ever had about her. “I need to go back.” My voice shook. “I need to go back to the office.” It might have been the grushound that dismembered her, which meant it was my fault. She was dead because of me.

“It wasn’t the grushound,” Kailen said, reading my thoughts. “Someone would have seen, and the hound focused on you, not her. It was something, or someone, else.” His jaw clenched, his gaze distant. “Now, Jane.”

“Jane?” I asked, still dazed. I plucked her out of my pocket. I still didn't like the feel of her little paws against my palm, but I didn't feel as disgusted as I once did.

“Put her in the back seat, and turn her back into a person,” Kailen said with a shrug, as though what he was asking me to do were the simplest thing in the world, like flipping a light switch.

“Oh, sure, I'll just do that then.” But my sarcasm was a shield this time, not a weapon. I lowered Jane onto the back seat next to Owen, and she sat up on her hind legs. I closed my eyes and pieced together my memory of Jane as a person—her brown hair, brown eyes, and even the faint shadow of hair on her upper lip. When I had it solidified in my mind, I tried to bring back the emotions I felt upon catching Owen and Jane together. It wasn't difficult, not with both of them sitting next to one another in the back seat. But as soon as I recalled those emotions, I couldn't rally them behind the image of Jane as a person. The space behind my eyes began to ache, and my office administrator had just been murdered. Had it been quick? Had she felt any pain?

As I tried again to reach my magic, Kailen pulled into the parking lot of a Jack-in-the-Box.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Strong smells. And it’s time for lunch. I’ll get you something. Keep trying.”

Owen went with him. As soon as they’d shut the doors and both had their backs turned, I pulled out my phone and checked the news. Jane squeaked indignantly from the back seat.

“This is important, okay?” I muttered as I scrolled through the news site.

Three murders in downtown Portland in two weeks, one of them someone I knew. I hadn’t paid much attention to the prior murders, but now they were all I could think about. The last two had been killed just before dusk, and again, had been seen only a few hours before their body parts had been discovered in an alley. Whoever the killer was, they were impossibly quick.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket as Kailen and Owen came back to the car. But even the smell of food couldn’t stir my stomach now. I waved away the burger and fries and leaned my head against the window.

At Kailen’s prompting, I tried turning Jane back into a person again. And again. We tried it outside the car, inside the car, with Owen yelling at me, and in silence. Half the time Kailen tried to coach me through the process, and half the time he just watched, a hand to his jaw, his lips pursed.

The sun began to set.

“Once more,” Kailen said. We sat inside the car again, soft rock playing on the radio. Apparently some Fae responded well to music. I didn’t think I was one of them. Nevertheless, I pressed my eyelids together, clenched my teeth, and tried harder. I only managed to make my head pound so hard it made me dizzy. “I can't!” I finally gasped out. When I opened my eyes the pain receded a little. Jane was still a mouse.

“Tree of Life,” Kailen exclaimed, “we don't have the time. I was hoping to send you through on your own, but you’re clearly not ready. Fine. I'll go with you to the Aranhods, but you need to figure out how to turn Jane back into a person as soon as we get back. You're not exactly making the case for Changelings not being dangerous right now.” He started up the car and headed back south, toward downtown. We crossed the Willamette and headed into the Pearl District. It was one of my favorite parts of town—lively and artsy. Used to be full of warehouses, now full of lofts and galleries.

When we slowed to a stop, Kailen turned to Owen and Jane. “Don’t leave the car. Wait here. We'll be an hour, tops.”

“Are you seriously leaving us here?” Owen said, his voice a tad high. “Alone?”

“They’re not after you,” Kailen said. “They’re after Nicole. I’ll ward the car. Just stay put.”

Owen’s face scrunched up, like he’d smelled something bad. “I don’t trust you,” he told Kailen.

And then I caught the thick scent of honeysuckle, and Owen was relaxing into the back seat, his lips curving in a slight smile. Is that what I’d looked like when Kailen had used his Talent on me? Because Owen looked like an idiot.

I got out of the car and shut the door. Kailen stood on the other side, the two fingers of his left hand on the top of the vehicle. Something like a static shock ran up my arm, along with another surge of honeysuckle. I jumped back. “What was that?”

“I warded the car,” he explained. “It won't stop a grushound or anything else that powerful, but I'll know if something tries to break through it. Warding is one of my Talents.”

The streetlights had started to flicker on, shining orange circles onto the sidewalks. It was busy for a weeknight, a few couples walking arm in arm, one group of young women dressed up for a night on the town. Restaurants and a couple of bars lined the sides of the street. A little further down was the restaurant Owen and I had gone to for our second anniversary.

“This way,” Kailen said. He took my hand, pulling me to the side to avoid a couple walking in the opposite direction. For a moment, all I was aware of was the feel of his hand in mine. Warm, callused, the fingers long but not slender. A strong hand. He led me past an Italian restaurant and then into an alley. We passed a trash bin, the two walls on either side of us spotted with graffiti. The light from the streetlamps faded into the darkness. I could still see, though, and picked my way through the bits of garbage that littered the asphalt.

“Here?” I asked, my voice tremulous. I'd accepted that I wasn't human, that my biological parents were Fae. I'd even accepted that there was such thing as magic, as well as monsters. But crossing over into the land of the Fae? For some reason, it frightened me.

Kailen let go of my hand, took a piece of chalk from his pocket, approached the brick wall, and drew an archway, the white line cutting across graffiti, bright in my vision. “This will bring us closest to the Aranhods. We shouldn't run into any hobgoblins, grushounds, Guardians, or anything else.” He smiled at me and held out his hand. “Let's go.”

I didn't take it, standing in the middle of the alleyway, a shiver starting at my knees and working its way up to my shoulders. “I'm afraid,” I blurted out.

Kailen stepped close, letting his hand fall back at his side. “You know, when I first crossed over from the Fae lands and into the mortal world, I was terrified.”

I gave him a sidelong glance. “Really? Weren't you two hundred or something?”

“I was,” Kailen said. “They like to tell stories in the Fae realms, things to frighten children with an overly adventurous streak. I thought machines were like monsters, with minds of their own, eager to destroy me. I wasn't supposed to go at all, but I had a youthful curiosity to satisfy.”

“And when you crossed over?” His low, calm voice soothed my nerves.

“It was stranger than I’d imagined, but I learned, bit by bit, that the stories had only kernels of truth to them, and I saw the woman I would later marry, for the first time.”

I broke my gaze from his and stared at the doorway he'd drawn onto the wall. “I've never had stories. Nothing but fairytales. Is that what it's like?” I’d spent more than a few nights over at Lainey’s, reading stories to Tristan—about dragons and maidens and knights—as he fell asleep, his face flushed with the exhaustion only the young seem capable of achieving. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine fairytales taking on any life at all.

“Only a little.”

“And what about the Aranhods?”

“Faolan and Maera are eager to meet you,” Kailen said. “Don't worry. I know you'll make them proud.” He smiled, one eyebrow quirked. “Try not to worry, at least.”