Under the Bridge (4 page)

“Great,” she said weakly, overwhelmed by her
ugly bargain, for he was right; silence was agreement. “Then
there’ll only be one monster left in town.”

He laughed gruffly, and mercifully left.
Billy sat down rather abruptly on the table. What had she done?

5. Be practical in dealing with trolls and
children.

“It wasn’t as if you had much to bargain
with, Billy. He was going to hunt here, anyway. At least he’s not
going to eat
me
,” Carrie said as she trailed her hand gently
over thistle in the back garden. She liked prickly things.

“Mm. You were practical, Bianita,” Maura said
in a rare show of approval. “I’m worried about what he wants in
place of gold, though. You really have no idea?”

“I’m certain he’ll tell us,” Billy grouched.
Her ribs still ached. She wanted to backhand Carrie for the sheer
stupidity of her actions today. Did she really think she was so
untouchable that she took no care to see who she was flirting with?
Another day, and she might have been killed. “Rest assured, it
won’t be something we’ll like to part with.” She sent a stern
glance at Carrie, who countered with an arch glance,
unrepentant.

She should have shoved Carrie under the
troll.

Maura had been livid when she’d heard that
Carrie not only couldn’t identify the troll on her own, but that
she’d flirted with him. Sadly, it hadn’t lasted. She’d even tried
to make peace by praising Billy’s conduct. Of course, the
unprecedented compliment had stunned Billy long enough to shift the
focus from Billy’s rant about her daughter. By the time she
regrouped, her rant had lost steam.

It wasn’t as if Maura were listening, anyway.
Now Billy sat on the steps, slowly shredding a leaf. She wasn’t
happy about condoning cannibalism for any reason. The fact that
Maura approved just showed that Billy’s gloom had cause. Maura
wasn’t known for her stern moral fiber in the face of
self-sacrifice. She’d trade a baby for her own life in a
minute.

Unless, of course, it was
her
baby.
That was entirely different.

“The most important thing, of course, is for
you to stick together,” Maura said. “Until the troll is taken care
of, we must be careful. If I can’t be with my daughter, you will,
Bianita. Her safety has to come before your petty rivalries.” She
sighed heavily. “I’ll have to rearrange my schedule too, it seems.
Carrie simply can’t be alone.” Her grim expression showed just what
a sacrifice it was to give up her leisure time.

Billy’s lip curled. “I’d rather haunt the
troll. You forget your place, Maura. I don’t take your orders.”

The time in the Wood had changed her. Billy
had seen how the old clans worked, and understood the magic that
wove them together. Maura couldn’t disobey her. If Billy were still
reluctant to issue those orders, it was something she’d have to get
over. A matriarch that was not respected, even feared, would not
last long.

Maura’s lips twitched, showing a sliver of
teeth. She took a breath, and got herself under control. She was
not used to giving obedience to Billy. “We can’t let the troll have
her, Bianita. She is my child.” The most precious thing a fae could
have, and likely the only one Maura would ever have. Even with her
human blood, she hadn’t proven very fertile.

Billy met her eyes without compromise. She
couldn’t afford any compassion, not with Maura. Compassion would
get her a dagger in the back. Once the troll was dead, Maura would
forget everything she owed Billy and go back to plotting. “Then ask
nicely.”

Maura’s shoulders softened, though her eyes
did not. “Please. I don’t want to have to shadow her at school
myself. The glamour would difficult to sustain for that length of
time.” Maura wasn’t as weak as she pretended, but there were other
factors.

Billy sent a look of disgust toward Carrie.
For once they seemed in complete accord. The only thing worse than
spending time together would be having Maura in school with them.
It would be worse than having the troll underfoot.

Maura took the silence for assent. Now that
she had her way, she tried for a more conciliatory tone. "I am
curious what the troll looked like," she admitted. “I've never
actually seen one."

“He's ugly,” Carrie said sullenly. “Big,
hairy, dirty. Billy would like him,” she said with a sour smirk.
“He looks like a twelve foot sheep dog.”

“Carrie,” her mother chided.

“What? She’s the animal lover. After all, her
best friend has a horse’s ass.”

"I could just let the troll eat you," Billy
growled. Too bad it would be a form of animal cruelty. The poor
thing would probably die of indigestion.

Abruptly fed up, Billy stood and dusted off
her rear end. “Look, I’ve got homework to do. You know the way
out.”

Maura’s lips tightened, but she lowered her
eyes. “Of course.”

Good riddance. Billy got a snack and settled
down at the battered kitchen table for a few hours of work. She was
trying to get ahead while she could. They were going to need her at
work soon, and she needed the extra hours. She was smart enough,
but she wasn’t one of the whiz kids who could glance at a book and
get an A. It was better than it had been, though. Until now, she’d
never had the luxury of spending free time studying.

There was a reason Billy had been held back a
year in school. Her mom’s instruction had always been demanding,
but the year she’d turned sixteen, it had turned brutal. Punishing
hours in martial science and studies into the pixie magical arts
had numbed her, drained every ounce of energy she’d had left.
Formally a decent student, suddenly Billy couldn’t focus in class,
frequently nodding off. Her teachers had thought she was on drugs.
Though her mom had attended several meetings with concerned
teachers, she’d remained adamant. Billy was to focus on what was
important; human education was of passing importance.

She fingered her long dagger, distracted by
the memories. The sheath was made of the hide of an animal that
could not exist outside of the fae world, and kept the weapons more
there
than here. A pixie had no trouble drawing it, but a
human would not be able to detect its presence. It saved all manner
of trouble with metal detectors and cops.

In her mom’s world, survival was often a
full-time job, especially if one didn’t have a large clan. There
were rules to follow: court rules of etiquette, and the rule of the
uncivilized Wood. Her mom had grown up deep in the Wood where those
without woodcraft died young. Since offspring were so rare and
special, they could not afford to be ignorant.

Unfortunately for Carrie, Maura had not grown
up in the Wood. She’d schooled her daughter in the arts of credit
card usage and husband snaring; her inept fumbling with any kind of
weapon was painful to see. Perhaps if Maura has been more diligent,
they would not be in this situation.

She remembered the first time she’d realized
just how bad Carrie really was. It had been the beginning of the
troubles.

They’d been sparing on Gran’s orders. (Billy
had not known Gran was her mother then.) Billy knew better than to
be bored; her Gran would have her practice until midnight if she
made that mistake. To stay alert, she’d pretended she was schooling
a clumsy beginner. Since it was obvious Carrie had spent little
time practicing, Billy took the opportunity to introduce overhand
strikes and low strokes, harrying her on all sides.

In spite of her athletic prowess at school,
Carrie was soon panting, slick with sweat. As her sword arm began
to slow, it became obvious that she just didn’t have the
conditioning necessary to fight long. That wouldn’t have been so
bad, if she were good enough to end a fight in the first five
minutes. As it was….

“Enough!” Gran glowered at Carrie, who
wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Pitiful.” She glared at Maura. “How could
you allow this? What would she do if she had to fight for her life?
She would be dead in a day in the Wood!”

A muscle twitched in Maura’s jaw. “She’s not
being raised in the Wood, Mom. There’s not much in the suburbs that
could do her in.”

Gran hissed. “The Wood is our natural home.
You know I always planned to bring the girls there to find
mates.”

Billy’s eyes widened in alarm. She had no
interest in leaving behind the Internet and mass-made consumer
goods for the dubious pleasures of a man-eating wilderness. Even
the fae High Court sounded more devious than desirable. Gran made
the elven princes sound a great deal like the preppie guys she
avoided at school—preppies with swords and killing magic. She
grimaced.

Billy figured she had more chance of ticking
one off and ending up locked inside a cloven tree than she did of
finding romance.

Gran went on, oblivious. “Now is the time to
prepare them! They are almost ready to bear children. How can we
grow our clan without more young?
You
can’t bear them.”
Clans were everything, a seat of power and crown of distinction to
those whose line could bear the most offspring. So far, the single
births in Gran’s clan were not doing much to increase her street
cred.

Maura stiffened at the reference to her many
miscarriages. “Bitter, are you? I’m so sorry I couldn’t grow
your
clan, Mother.”

Unable to stand it, Billy broke into the
brewing argument. Maybe it was selfish and disrespectful, but she
just had to speak up. She tapped the edge of her hand against her
palm. “Whoa! Time out. Just wanted to throw out here—I’m
so
not interested in being a teen mother. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m
not obsessed with finding a fairy prince, you know? They don’t
sound like my type. I’m too young to marry.”

Gran sent her a look of strained patience.
“Be still! No one was talking about marriage.”

Billy gaped, as she understood at last. The
strangled noise she made must have been compelling, or maybe Carrie
just felt the same about finding a fae sperm donor.

“I don’t think so!” she gasped indignantly.
“Like I want Angela and Lila talking about me behind my back! I am
so not going to walk around fat and pregnant while everyone else I
know goes to college. I mean, how am I supposed to find a rich
doctor if I’m stuck her in Podunkville?”

You had to hand it to Carrie—she had
priorities, Billy thought.

“You will do as you’re told,” Gran said in a
voice that made Carrie cringe. Billy stiffened as the look was
turned on her. “You owe your lives to me! Without me, you would not
even exist.”

Billy’s eye twitched. She swallowed the first
words that temper brought to her lips, and flexed her self-control.
“Gran, we might love and respect you, but we are not going to whore
for you.”

Gran stalked toward her. One step, but it
betrayed her deep temper. “You’ve learned too many human concepts.
We live too long to hinder ourselves with mortal ties of fidelity.
We are not crawling humans, slaves to jealousy and petty lies of
love.”

“Aren’t we?” Billy said softly. “Fairy kings
don’t count, then?”

Gran straightened. “I was young and foolish.
I know better now.”

“Then I hope to stay young and foolish!”
Carrie spat out, and stormed off.

With a dark look for her mother, Maura
followed.

Billy wasn’t interested in a showdown with
Gran, not when avoidance was easier. She’d followed the others
while the getting was good, unaware of how this issue would soon
cloud her future.

Billy sighed and set down her unused pen. She
hadn’t seen what the urgency was all about. Most people had kids
sooner or later. If she ever found someone she’d like to marry, she
might even decide to give it a go. Maybe. Kids weren’t really her
thing. Still, it hadn’t made sense that her mother…Gran…would be in
such a rush. Weren’t old people supposed to be patient?

She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge
of her nose. Did trolls become more patient as they aged? She
remembered how the troll had waited her out this morning, how he’d
called her an impatient young hunter. How old was he?

She wasn’t pleased to be thinking of the
troll. Things had been rolling along fairly smoothly until he’s
shown up. Then again, if she’d been the troll, she probably would
have liked to eat Carrie, too. Too bad she couldn’t let him.
Another fae might have sent her to him as a present.

Frustrated, she left the table and headed for
the back yard. She’d practice with her dagger for a while and
hopefully bleed off some aggression. Maybe she’d even get lucky
tomorrow; he might try to eat Carrie, and she would have an excuse
for bashing someone.

Smiling at the image, she assumed the first
position. Tomorrow would be a better day.

6. Dis-stinkly Bad Day

“Hey, Billy. Why are you sitting here?”
Eyrnie set his tray down next to her, glancing curiously at the
crowded table.

“Duty calls,” Billy said glumly. The table
was near the center of the room, right next to her niece’s. Since
she could have reached out and bopped Carrie on the back of the
head, Billy figured it fulfilled Maura’s requirements. It was as
close as they could get and still have their backs to each
other.

Eyrnie wrinkled his nose, but sat down across
from her anyway. His dark brown hair flopped into his eyes, but
that never bothered him. Today he wore a black t-shirt and frayed
jeans that were just a little bit short. They hung on his lanky,
coltish form, a testimony to his sudden growth spurt. He’d gone
from a slight, quiet teen to a raw-boned, moody young man the
summer she’d been in the Wood, and it seemed he was still growing.
He struggled to control his energy long enough to get through the
days now, and it often made him short-tempered.

Billy was one of the few friends who
understood what he was going through. She usually didn’t mind his
mood swings; after all, he was a loyal guy. Though he was
blisteringly smart, he’d never made fun of her for repeating a
grade, or for her poor grades in high school. He’d understood about
her mother as only another fae child could.