The Wild Ways (50 page)

Read The Wild Ways Online

Authors: Tanya Huff

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: The Wild Ways
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“Ms. Carlson, I have something I need to tell you.”
“Later. I have something I need to tell you.” Smiling broadly caused crow’s feet, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I’ve never liked being involved in Catherine Gale’s activities,” she began. He looked relieved. Of course he did, he knew where she was coming from. She’d never had an assistant who understood her like Paul Belleveau did. Sitting back, she crossed her legs. “It wasn’t that the whole thing was weird to the nth degree, I can deal with weird if it gets the job done, but I hated the lack of control. I hated being dependent on her. And yes, I know I was paying her, but we both know she’s not the kind of woman to be dependent on those payments or to follow the golden rule—those who have the gold make the rules. But I’ve solved the problem.”
“Ms. Carlson . . .”
He no longer looked relieved. Of course he didn’t, he hated being out of the loop. It made it harder for him to take care of her. “Don’t worry, things couldn’t be better. It seems the honorable Richard Conway, the Minister of the Environment for Nova Scotia and Cape Breton, has a gambling problem.”
“A gambling problem?”
If she kept smiling like this, Paul would be booking her an appointment with her esthetician the moment he reached his desk. “He can’t stop playing, he can’t count to twenty-one. He owes money to some very unsavory people. Or he did. Now, he owes me. Or he did.” She glanced at her watch. “As of half an hour ago, the permits Carlson Oil needs are signed and a copy has been sent to this office by courier. An electronic copy was sent to both of us immediately after his signature was applied. They’re calling for clear skies, I called Captain Bonner myself on the way in, and the barges can go out this afternoon.”
“This afternoon?”
“Yes, this afternoon.” Paul looked horrified. It wasn’t a good look on him. Although she strongly disapproved, she was not adding to the damage she’d already done her face by frowning. “If you don’t have press releases and potential scheduling in place, ready to go when we got the word, you’re not the man I think you are. And if you’re not, there’s no real reason why I should be paying you.” He didn’t laugh with her, but then he’d always been a little sensitive about money. “As far as our more recent problems are concerned, Carlson Oil no longer requires Catherine Gale’s assistance and Two Seventy-five N can test their flotation rating by taking a long walk off a short pier.” She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Now, tell me how amazing I am and then I want to see the best case scenario for actually getting that rig up and working and finally getting oil out of that well.”
He stood and stared at her for a moment, opening and closing his hands.
Amelia sighed. “For heaven’s sake, Paul, spit it out so you can bring me a latte and then get some work done.”
“Ms. Carlson . . .”
“That’s my name.”
“I quit.”
 
“So, what’re you planning for the next few days?”
“Nothing much.” Charlie slid Shelly’s tool box under her groping hand and went back to leaning on the back of the car. She had nine days’ worth of sunlight to catch up on. “Probably head into Halifax and talk to some guys about maybe lining up studio work.”
“Probably? Maybe?” Shelly’s sneakers kicked twice, then she squirmed backward until she could drop her lower body off the tailgate and stand. “You don’t sound very juiced about it.”
“Honestly, I’m not.” Charlie shrugged, her back sticking to the car around the ties of her halter. “But a girl’s gotta make a living.”
“Too bad Jack had to go home. He’s a cool kid and you’d have had a blast showing him around.” Flicking her sunglasses down off the top of her head, Shelly pulled Charlie into a hug. “If you get bored, head up to Dingwall. There’s plenty of room and my gran loves company.”
“If I get bored, you’ll be the second to know.” Charlie waited until Shelly got into the car, then sketched a
back off tailgaters
charm in the dust. It’d only last until the next rain, but the forecast was a week of clear skies.
“See you Friday morning in Ingonish!” She waved out the window and was gone.
It didn’t seem to matter to Shelly’s brother-in-law’s cousin, who’d already left for work, that the rest of the band was still in residence.
Only in the Maritimes, Charlie mused, heading up the driveway, wincing a little as the gravel dug into her bare feet. Her gear was already in the back of the station wagon, but she figured she’d help Mark and Tim finish loading before she hit the road. After all, they had the amps, their roadie was back in Calgary, and she wasn’t in any hurry to leave. Although lining up a few paying jobs wouldn’t hurt,
probably, maybe
pretty much summed up her interest in studio work right at the moment.
The fiddler in her head decided to chime in with “I Won’t Do the Work.”
“Who asked you?”
Deciding to soak up a little more sun before breaking up the accordion/ bodhran jam session she could hear going on in the basement, she leaned back against the rear of her car and closed her eyes. Having Wild Powers activated didn’t seem to have changed much. Okay, sure, she was alive and ten days out of time, but other than that, she still had no idea of what she should do next.
A car screeched to a stop out on the street.
Charlie opened her eyes to see Paul and Eineen spilling out of his penis-mobile. “I still have no idea of what I’d do with a hundred thousand dollars,” she murmured, glancing up at a cloudless sky. When no money appeared, she shrugged philosophically and, given the way Eineen’s glamour was flickering, braced herself for yet more Selkie Sturm and Drang.
“Another skin missing?” Made sense for Amelia Carlson to have sent Auntie Catherine back out, and it was only Human nature to slack off covering the mirrors after a few days. Fey nature, too, it seemed.
“The barges are going out today!”
“Excuse me?” First she’d heard about barges.
“The Minister of the Environment signed off on Carlson Oil’s permits for the shallow well,” Paul explained. “Everything else was in place, waiting for the permit, so, this afternoon, Amelia Carlson is sending out the barges with the pieces of the production platform. She had a small army of men waiting to go to work building this thing; they’ll have the piles driven before a protest can hit the courts and the platform constructed before a stop order can be issued.”
“Succinct explanation. Also, nice suit.” She sagged back against the car and tucked her thumbs behind the waistband of her shorts. “But what do you want me to do?”
“Stop the barges.” Eineen was actually wringing her hands. Charlie’d never seen anyone do that before. “Save my people.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only one who can!”
Okay, so maybe it was a little childish to make Eineen pay for being entirely straight, but Charlie figured she was due a bit of self-indulgence.
“And because this is one of those decisions you’ll be making every minute of every day,” Paul added quietly.
Charlie blinked. “You’re good.” She’d had every intention of helping, but if she hadn’t, that would have been the button pusher. “Fine. I’ll stop the barges. Any idea of
how
I can stop the barges?” she added wiping the smile off Paul’s face. “If you got me on board, I suppose I could get the captain to scuttle . . . scuttle?” She frowned. “That doesn’t sound right. I suppose I could convince the captain to sink his ship, but then I’d be on board a sinking ship along with Amelia Carlson’s small army of men. Not that far from shore, granted, but even if everyone survived, explanations would be tricky and I’m not throwing a perfectly innocent captain out as a scapegoat. “
“Couldn’t you make it look like a natural disaster? Whip up the seas or something?”
“Okay, two points.” Charlie flicked up a finger. “One, I’m still not up with drowning everyone on board the barge and you . . .” She pointed the finger at Paul. “. . . are being remarkably bloodthirsty which is probably your influence . . .”The finger moved to point at Eineen. The Fey seldom worried about Human lives. “. . . so cut it out. And two, did I not mention the whole land not sea thing last night?”
“There’s land under the water,” Eineen said.
And the fiddler in Charlie’s head broke into “The Champion.”
“That’s very true.” She squinted into the sun and swiped at a dribble of sweat running down her throat and over her collarbone, teasing out the bright beginning of a possible plan. “There’s a lot of water over that land . . . I’m going to need a backup band.” Blinking away spots, she refocused her attention on the two people standing in front of her. “Eineen, you need to find me as many fiddlers as you can, preferably men who’ve had contact with your people.”
Eineen’s brows rose up behind the fall of her hair. “By contact, you mean . . . ?”
“What are you, twelve? I mean I need fiddlers who won’t freak at what I’m going to do, so I need fiddlers who’ve done the freaky with you lot. If we had another moonlit night, you could recruit a few more, but as it is, get in contact with as many as you can. Tell them we’ll need them this afternoon and we’ll send the location as soon as we get one. Paul, find me a location. I need the route the barge will be taking, the deepest water possible, and waterfront property without a vacation home built on it.”
Paul pulled out his phone. “There’s a very good chance Ms. Carlson hasn’t informed the relevant parties I’m no longer working for her.”
“And what will you be doing?” Eineen demanded.
“I will be finding a piece of music I can use to focus power. All right, fine.” She held up her hand. “I know what I want to use, I’ll be acquiring the rights. This isn’t the sort of thing you can do with questionable authority.”
The front door of the house opened behind her. “As Mark enters right on . . .” From the look on Paul’s face, it wasn’t Mark. Of course it wasn’t Mark, Charlie could still hear the accordion and bodhran. This close to the harbor, there wasn’t a decent sized shrubbery in sight, but every house had mirrors. Charlie grabbed Paul’s phone, sketched a very fast charm, and shoved it back into his hands. “Go. Call me later.”
Clutching Eineen’s hand, he ran for the car.
Smart man.
“We need to talk, Charlotte.”
Charlie turned. She didn’t bother faking a smile. “I have nothing to say to you, Auntie Catherine.”
“Not even a thank you for giving you the opportunity to embrace your full potential?” Auntie Catherine stepped off the porch and spread her hands, bracelets chiming. “I Saw your eyes when you came out of the mine after facing those Goblins.”
“Really? Did you See my eyes when I faced the Troll? Enough broken blood vessels they looked like two balls of very lean bacon. Wasn’t pretty.” If she hadn’t been glaring at the older woman’s face so intently, she’d have missed it. “You didn’t know, did you?You didn’t know there was a Troll in the mine. Something that big, and you didn’t See it.”
“I don’t need to tell you what I did or didn’t See, Charlotte.”
“Weak,” Charlie snorted. “Very weak.”
“The point is, you wouldn’t have been in the mine without me, you wouldn’t have fulfilled your potential without the mine, therefore, you owe me.”
“Bite me.”
“Don’t push it, Charlotte.” Dark eyes narrowed. “Potential is one thing. Actualizing it is another. You still have no idea of what’s going on.”
Charlie spread her hands in a mocking mirror image of Auntie Catherine’s gesture. “If you’re willing to be straight this time, enlighten me.”
“The well must be drilled. Steel must be sunk deep into the seabed.”
Gulls cried. Someone hit their horn in the tourist-clogged streets across the bridge.
After a moment, Charlie sighed. “Not so much with the enlightenment there. Because I said so isn’t going to float this boat, Auntie Catherine. The way you’ve been dicking people around, I’m not taking your word for anything. You didn’t have to convince Amelia Carlson that blackmailing the Selkies was the way to go—you could have figured out a number of ways to accomplish the same thing—you just like to fuck with people. Newsflash, you’re not a nice person.”
“Nice isn’t required, Charlotte.” The flash of teeth could not be called a smile by anyone sane. “Not for what I do.”

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