Chapter 2 - section 2

Once in the car, I had time to regret my interaction with Laila as I fought with the metal beast to start. Fey might not keep friends, but they’re notorious for holding grudges. She really wasn’t an enemy I wanted to have, but I’m a fool when it comes to my temper. I consoled myself as I finally put-putted my way towards Foster Street, that at least she didn’t know the full extent of my powers. Hopefully it meant she wasn’t aware of all of my weaknesses, either. Even if she would be more careful now, having underestimated me once; I was a variable difficult to assess thanks to my heritage.

Because of who my father was, I was afforded abilities stronger than many full-blooded fey. Vicky had inherited these strengths, too. We were lucky. Not all of our half-siblings were so fortunate. Maybe our mother had some diluted blood in her past to make this possible. Maybe not. It was difficult to tell and such things are supposedly quite difficult to predict.

Needless to say, our father was pleased when he learned about our burgeoning abilities and took us intermittently to the Mistlands for training. Self-control isn’t what one normally considers when one thinks of the beings of the Mistlands, but it’s a means to an end. Control brings power. And if there’s one thing that the creatures of the Mistlands like more than glittering objects, it’s power.

Not to mention that in our ignorance, Vicky and I could have done a world of hurt to normal humans if we hadn’t been provided with some manner of training. Enchantment and glamour like Laila toyed with were the very least of the dangers. It isn’t that charming someone was free from risk. It wasn’t hard to destroy a man’s life; but at least in the end, he still had a life to go back to.

My thoughts on dangers and destruction of lives took a rapid turn as I swerved to pull in on the proper block of Foster Street. The particular house wasn’t hard to find. It was a narrow townhouse, not unlike mine, but drabber. The beige exterior badly needed a coat of paint and the interior visible from lit windows lacked any touch of curtains or warmth. It looked like a cheap rental property. It wasn’t these features that made it so easily recognizable, however. Not when it had an ambulance, fire truck and three police cars outside. The variety of flashing lights bathed the section of the street in a multi-colored strobe effect, none of them in synch with the others.

I leapt out of the car and towards the blocked off section of sidewalk. The knot in my stomach wrenched and my fear was so great that I could barely voice to myself my concern. To give it even a mental voice was to acknowledge it and make it a possibility. Vicky and I might not be close, but she was my sister. I didn’t want to see her dead.

I couldn’t help blanching at the sight of a gurney wheeling out, the body held inside covered from top to bottom. Death. It permeated this place. I frantically tried to catch the attention of one of the cops.

“My sister. Her friend said she was going to be here. Her boyfriend, too.” It was a slight prevarication, but I think under the circumstances, an understandable one. I was genuinely surprised at how badly my voice shook. One of the closest pair of cops turned to look at me, not without an efficient sort of sympathy.

He was middle-aged, evidenced by the spreading grey at his temples. His belly looked a little soft, but he had strong shoulders and kind grey eyes. His mouth was stern, however, a sharp line with thin lips. I gulped and carefully avoided direct eye contact. The fear had to be radiating off of me and I clamped down on it as best I could. “Is she…?” I couldn’t bring myself to end that sentence.

“Your sister wasn’t here, ma’am. Leastaways, not when all this happened.” His baritone was soft and calming with the faintest tinge of a gentle southern influence. The smoothed fricatives but absence of a twang were probably intended to be comforting, but it was the reassurance of his words more than his voice that I sought.

“You’re certain? She doesn’t look anything like me and I was told she would be here.” I didn’t want to argue, but I had to be certain.

His lips twitched grimly. “Positive, ma’am. In this house? All the people in there were men.”

Relief washed over me, in spite of the sudden cold sensation creeping up my spine. This couldn’t have anything to do with Vicky. Unless someone expected her to be here. Another gurney was getting shuffled through the door and I frowned.

“What exactly is “all this”?” I asked. All was an ugly word and in these circumstances it looked to be even uglier.

Any hope of reassurance ended as the cop’s warmth snapped off like a shutter drawn across a lantern. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”

Shit. It had to be bad. No simple accident. Two more ambulances pulled up with flashing lights but dead sirens. Not a good sign. The thought of asking more from the cop skittered through my mind, but his solicitude had apparently run its course as he turned back to talk to one of the EMTs. I murmured my gratitude and it was recognized by a slight distracted nod.

Warning bells were ringing in my mind, but I tried to convince myself that this was unrelated to Vicky. For a second, I wondered if it could have been Laila, but I dismissed that option quickly. The timing was all wrong. She might have been jealous, assuming she had told the truth, but judging the pressing sensation of death, she would had to make it here well before me to kill these men at a time when she was engaged with conversation with me. Unless she had killed them before we spoke.

Mired in unpleasant consideration, I headed back to my car. The icy fingers simply would not relent on the back of my neck and I shivered as I found the key to put to the car’s lock. The old hunk of junk had been made before fancy automatic locks and I lusted after owning a car that had them. Before I could turn the key, realization dawned. This wasn’t just the chill of death. The vibration underneath it, the cold sense of eyes on my skin; someone of the blood was watching me.

I feigned difficulty with the key and cast a sideways glance over my shoulder. There was someone across the street, but without street lamps and in the black evening hour, I could only catch an impression of height and movement amidst the shadows and flashing lights. The moment I turned to look more closely, he was gone. So was the vibration.

My eyes narrowed. He would have still been visible if he were going to the end of the block. He couldn’t have simply disappeared. He must have ducked into an alley or into one of the houses and yet, if he had done that, I should have been able to sense him. Unless he went into the Mistlands, my inner voice nagged. I dreaded that possibility and didn’t want to entertain it. It was bad enough that the only avenue I had left to try to track down Vicky was to go see Dad. I really didn’t need someone from the Mistlands spying on me as well.