Stones Unturned (27 page)

Eve walked farther into the dining room, Tommy Chow watching her every move. She was eyeing the tables, every goblin, troll, street fairy, lycanthrope, and two-bit sorcerer getting a moment of her undivided attention. Squire could tell that she wanted them to know that she was well aware of who was present.

For future reference.

"You know who I am, and who I represent," she said, reaching down to one of the tables nearby and helping herself to a glass of water. She took a sip.

Squire chuckled;
the bitch certainly knows how to work a room
.

Smacking her lips, she continued. "A demon has crossed over and is somewhere in the vicinity." She pointed to herself and then to Squire and Shuck. "We need to find it."

The black beast's head was sniffing the air, the aroma of various spicy dishes arousing its senses. Shuck tried to pull him toward one of the tables, but Squire planted his feet, continuing to listen Eve.

"Normally there'd be no problems with tracking something like this," she said, looking around the room again. "But I'm sure you're all aware that things have been a little different lately."

The myriad creatures at the tables around the room seemed to respond to her observation, looking down at their plates, or at their companions, many with knowing smiles.

"So I was hoping for some volunteers," Eve continued. "Any hints of the whereabouts of this thing would be greatly appreciated, and remembered in the future."

Some of the creatures hung their heads, not making eye contact, while others glared at her defiantly, as if wishing to start something.

The restaurant remained quiet, nobody giving up a thing.

"So, it's either you guys don't know anything," she said, finishing her water, and setting the glass down on the corner of a table. "Or you just don't want to share — which would really hurt my feelings."

Squire watched, certain that she was filing their faces away in some little dark corner of her mind.

"All right, then," she said. "Thank you all for your time. I'm sure I'll see you all again soon. One by one. Somewhere dark."

As Eve went back toward the foyer, she smiled at Tommy. "Sorry for the trouble."

Squire gave Shuck's chain a snap, and the two of them followed Eve through the door. The waiter was in the lobby with his dumplings, and he pulled his wallet from his back pocket to pay.

"No charge," said a voice, and Squire looked up to see Tommy standing behind him. The owner said something to the waiter in Hakka, and the man handed Squire his takeout. The smell wafting from the bag was absolutely delicious, and Squire couldn't wait to dig in.

"Much obliged," Squire said, Shuck tugging him toward the door. Eve had already gone outside.

Tommy bowed. "Give your master my regards," he said. "It has been some time since we last conversed."

"I'll tell him you were askin' for him," Squire said, as the anxious Shuck pulled him out the door.

He found Eve in front of the building leaning against a busted parking meter. "Well that was a waste of fucking time," she growled.

"Not completely. We got dumplings," Squire said, tearing open the bag and reaching into the container to sample one of the Chinese delicacies.

"Pssssst!"

Squire turned in the direction of the sound, dumpling midway to his lips. "What now?" he asked, popping the doughy, meat and vegetable treat into his mouth.

A small, pale hand waved them over from around the next corner.

Eve shot Squire a cautionary glance and headed toward the whisperer. Reluctantly, Squire followed at her heels, Shuck trotting happily along beside him, glancing back and forth between Eve and the bag of dumplings.

She rounded the corner, stopping at the mouth of the garbage-strewn alley that ran behind Peking Tommy's. Squire would have thought some of the rubbish would have made it into one of the two dumpsters back there, but apparently that was wishful thinking.

Something fluttered up from a patch of darkness in front of them. Eve stumbled back, stepping on Squire's foot with the pointed heel of her boot, causing the goblin to yelp in pain. He reached down to his injured foot, accidentally letting go of Shuck's chain. The creature reacted instinctively, going after the potential threat that hovered in the air before them.

An ear-piercing scream filled the night as the Shuck leaped at the fluttering object. He snatched it out of the air in his jaws and brought it down to the alley floor.

"Help!" a tiny, panicked voice cried. "Don't let the black devil eat me!" The bloodcurdling screams continued.

"What've you got, Shuck?" Squire asked, limping toward the beast.

The thin, almost emaciated figure had pale skin, tinted blue and marbled with darker veins.

The hobgoblin glanced at Eve. "Street fairy."

"They're busy, lately. Sticking their noses in," she replied, staring at the creature.

Squire reached down to grab Shuck's chain. "Let go, boy," he commanded, but the beast wasn't listening.

"Help me! Help me, please!" the filthy little winged creature shrieked, doing its best to fend of the snarling shuck. It wasn't the same breed as Ceridwen and Tess, the street fairy they'd run into the other night in the theater district. This little fellow stood perhaps eighteen inches high. Small, but not so small that it might be confused for a sprite.

"Shuck!" Squire snapped, tugging on the leash.

Eve stepped in and kicked him, her booted foot connecting with the animal's side. "Leave him alone," she said with a snarl.

Shuck dropped its prey, spinning around to face Eve, preparing to attack her.

"Come on," she said slowly, lowering to a crouch even as she spoke the challenge. Her fangs had elongated and her fingers lengthened into eight-inch talons like curved blades. "Attack me, and it'll probably be the last thing you ever do."

Squire hoped she didn't hurt the mutt, but he wasn't getting between them. While the two faced off, he went to the fairy, helping the creature to stand.

"It bent one of my wings," the street fairy complained, fluttering the moth-like appendages.

Definitely not a sprite
, Squire thought. They were beautiful, their wings like a butterfly's or a dragonfly's.

"You're lucky he didn't eat you," he said, pulling the fairy over to the alley wall.

Eve and Shuck glared at each other, a low rumbling growl filling the night, and Squire really wasn't sure which one was responsible. Then, when things looked as though they were about to break, Shuck suddenly dropped onto its back, exposing its belly in a sign of submission.

"All right, then," Eve said, bending down to rub the animal's solid black flesh. "Next time I tell you to do something, you do it."

The animal whined, as if agreeing with her.

"Now," she said, turning her attention to the filthy little creature next to Squire. "What do you want?"

The tiny fairy sneered at them, gingerly touching his wings to see if they were badly damaged.

"My people . . . we've heard about this demon. We've already tried to help you —"

Squire studied him closely. "You're talking about Tess. The fairy chick we met the other night?"

The little winged creature rolled his eyes and sighed. "You're quick on the uptake, handsome. Yes, Tess. And a bunch of others as well. Things have been getting ugly back home, or so we've heard. Word comes now and then, though we're outcasts. None of the Fey back home would even acknowledge us if we tried to return to Faerie. Still, we have family there. It's ugly. We tell ourselves it doesn't matter. This is our home now. But all of a sudden, things are getting pretty ugly here, too."

Squire snorted. "All of a sudden?"

The fairy sniffed arrogantly. "You know what I mean."

Eve crouched down, trying to get as close to his level as possible. "We do, yes. And we appreciate your help. Yours, and Tess's, and all of the street fairies. It's nice to know we're not the only ones who want to keep the darkness at bay."

Squire almost called her on what she'd said. Eve had no real interest in keeping the darkness at bay. She loved the dark. But for once he decided not to bust her chops. He knew very well that there was darkness, and then there was
darkness
.

The fairy looked up at her, a smile on his homely face. The stink of alcohol came off his tiny form in waves. "I was in the bar having myself a little refreshment," he told her. "I heard some things that might help you."

"Why didn't you tell me inside?" she asked.

The fairy shook his head. "Fraternizing with the enemy is frowned upon," he said, looking around conspiratorially. "But what they don't know, won't hurt them — or get me and mine hurt."

"What do you have?" she asked.

"You're looking for the demons," the fairy said. His voice had dropped to a tiny whisper. "I know where they went."

"Demons?" Eve questioned. "More than one?"

The fairy nodded. "At first there was only one, but now there are two." He held up two fingers for them to see.

Squire looked at Eve, not liking the direction this was taking.

"Danny," she said, and all he could do was nod.

Her assumption had been right. The boy was with his father.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The new rental was a silver Lexus. Clay had charged it to an account set up by Conan Doyle. Dr. Graves knew that the mage had spent decades amassing wealth and wished to put it to good use, financing his war against he darkness. Clay had been alive far longer, but the immortal shapeshifter had apparently not exercised as much forethought, for he seemed more than happy to use Conan Doyle's money.

Graves realized it would be a mistake to make too many assumptions about Clay, however. If he truly was what he claimed to be, what Arthur believed him to be, there was no telling how many lives he'd led and forgotten by now.

Hours passed in comfortable silence. Graves could have slipped into the spirit world and been in Manhattan in no time at all, or simply passed the time there in quiet peace. But Clay was taking the time to help him, devoting more attention to the mystery of his murder than anyone had in decades, despite Conan Doyle's assertions otherwise. The least Graves could do was keep him company.

They spoke in brief spurts of conversation, of music and art, war and history, medicine and science. Though Clay had never been human, Graves found him the most humane of companions, a being who truly believed in the capacity for greatness inherent in the human race, and a creature of rare wisdom.

They drove across the Tappan Zee Bridge into Westchester County, the late afternoon sunlight glaring on the windshield and washing out Graves's spectral form so that when he glanced down he found that he was nearly invisible even to his own eyes.

"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?" Clay asked.

Graves arched an eyebrow and studied the strong, handsome profile of his companion. The shapeshifter's preferred form was neither young nor old, yet the features were distinct, and the ghost wondered if once upon a time Clay had known a man with this face, if perhaps this chosen appearance was some memorial to a lost friend.

He made a mental note to ask, even as he nodded.

"Of course."

"When we solve this thing . . . when you finally know who took your life, and how, and why, are you really going to move on? Forever? You've spent all this time wandering the world as a spirit, but it isn't like you've been haunting the wreckage of the past. Strange as it sounds, you've made a new life, after death. You have purpose. Is the pull of whatever remains for you afterward so strong?"
The ghost cocked his head and gazed at Clay. For all that he wore the face of a man, for all the ordinariness with which he held the steering wheel and drove the car and blinked and breathed and spoke and laughed, Graves felt he was among the very few who never forgot that Clay was not human. Not in the least. He had been alive upon the Earth since the world began, and it was possible he could never die. From anyone else, the question might have been too personal, too prying. But he understood that Clay truly wished to understand something that was beyond his experience, or his imagining.

"I've always said as much, haven't I? My Gabriella and I never married — I waited too long, and then it was too late for me, for us — but I love her still. All I've ever wanted is to be with her again. The current of the soulstream is strong, my friend. Any time I must delve deeply into the ether, going farther into the spirit world, its pull is almost inescapable. I hold on. But when the mystery of my murder is solved, there will be nothing to keep my spirit for departing at last for whatever awaits me."

Clay glanced over at him curiously, once and then again. "Nothing at all?"

A chill passed through the specter. Graves felt a queasy discomfort he had never felt in all the time since his death.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, it's just . . ." Clay shrugged. "I guess I had the idea that something was brewing between you and Danny's mother. You've been looking out for the kid, but it seemed like more than that."

The ghost was taken aback. The words fell like dominos, and even as Clay spoke them, he recognized the truth. How he had managed to avoid noticing it, to hide it from himself, he wasn't sure. But now that the words had been spoken it felt so painfully obvious, and the fact that it had been so obvious to Clay embarrassed him.

"I . . . I'm very fond of Julia. She's endured a great deal, and yet her love for Danny remains untainted by it. I admire that."

"I'm sorry," Clay said, flexing his fingers on the wheel, staring at the road ahead. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's all right," the ghost replied. "I simply haven't dwelt much upon the situation. I'm . . . well, it's absurd, really. I'm dead, Joe. Fond of Julia or not, there's nothing there to pursue."

Clay focused on the road. "Maybe not. But I get the impression she's pretty fond of you, too."

"You're reading it wrong," Graves said, wishing now that the subject had never come up. "Where could that lead? Should I haunt her life? I worry for her and for Danny. I try to look out for the boy. I'm afraid for him. But whatever I might feel for Julia, Gabriella will always be the one I love. I'll do everything I can to see that Julia and Danny are looked after when my spirit moves on, but the soulstream pulls at me. Somewhere on the other side, Gabriella waits for me."