Deceptive Dime Store Demons, page 8
Having Brenna as a co-conspirator to corner Nick was one of my better ideas. After I slipped into my blouse and pencil skirt, I escaped the house to Brooklyn and arrived at eleven-twenty. Ten minutes later, from my hiding spot in the diner across the street from Earl’s place, I was pleasantly surprised to see my target stroll inside right at thirty minutes past eleven.
Right as I planned to dart across the street, my phone dinged with a new text message from Aggie: Movie night tonight at seven! Since you don’t have a job, your unemployed ass better show up. I will hunt you down if you don’t.
Guess I had plans tonight.
I made my way across the busy Brooklyn street and darted toward Earl’s Fine Antiques. The place had an old wooden storefront with an awning covering the sidewalk. Two large, junk-filled bins sat in front of the single windowpane. During every visit, I wondered if leaving containers out there on the sidewalk was just begging people to come by and steal them, but the owner had placed a protective ward on the bins. Quite clever, if you asked me. The heavy scent of cinnamon, a tell-tale sign of a spellcaster’s magic left me wary, so I hurried inside.
Based on my past excursions with Nick into this establishment, we both loved browsing here. Every time I walked over the threshold, a honeyed feeling tickled my stomach. I wanted to find something new. A potential holiday gem to add to my forever-growing collection. And as much as I wasn’t fond of buying Farley anything other than a broom, a mop, and a bib, it wouldn’t hurt for me to try to uncover something that might shave down the bristles on that man’s backside. Maybe he’d even thank me.
I navigated my way through the first set of displays with well-cared for Victorian and medieval furniture with ease. Fine leatherback books lined the far wall, while a tall table nearby had small glass goblets full of bubbling potions. It was once I snuck past two glass display cases with shimmering jewelry that I spotted my target.
Nick faced away from me, but he still said, “How did you know I’d be here?” He sighed. “Don’t tell me. Brenna?”
“She wanted to help us finish our group therapy exercise.”
He laughed a bit. “If it wasn’t one of Dr. Frank’s treatment plans, Brenna would’ve told you to drag me where I needed to go.”
Nick turned around and I finally noticed what he held in his hands: a set of well-preserved Victorian-era paper ornaments arranged in an enclosed frame. My fingertips tingled at the sight of the delicate snowflakes, a blushing paper doll, and five-pointed stars. I could faintly make out the faded music sheets the original crafter had used.
“Oh, I don’t have any of those,” I remarked, but I forced myself to step back. “You’re not going to ensnare me with that, buddy.” I took the frame, admired it briefly, then put it down. “How come you haven’t replied to any of my texts? I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends. We always will be.” He paused and stared out the shop window to the busy street. “Right now, I need to fix myself and heal other spellcasters, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”
I scoffed. Always the hero, white wizards tended to have do-gooder complexes. If I truly thought about it, that had to be tiring. Even I had days when I didn’t want to bail the goblin out of trouble at The Bends.
I wanted to know if Nick had any intel on the spring fairies, but we had other business to handle. “Dr. Frank said he wanted you to volunteer at a free clinic, right?”
“Yeah, he wants me to face a similar situation to the one that got me in trouble in the first place.”
I took a moment to pause. “Is what happened at medical school related to treating another spellcaster?”
Ever since Nick had returned from medical school, I’d wanted to know how to help my dear friend. My invites to hang out or chat had gone without a reply.
Nick went quiet on me until we left the antique store and walked a block or two down the street. Cars zipped by and families strolled past us, but we took our time until he ended the silence. “I made a grave error with an important patient.”
My heart faltered. “I’m sorry about that. What happened?”
We crossed another street.
“When I first arrived, I learned I had a lot more field experience than other students. Many of them came from highborn wizard families. They had decades of study through private tutors and some had even attended a prestigious university or two.” He sighed. “I, on the other hand, came only with a burning desire to comfort the sick, to fix what was broken.”
We veered to the east to head into the shade in Prospect Park. I welcomed the trees overhead.
Nick continued. “I also had Dr. Frank’s recommendation and that came with a burden I wasn’t prepared to bear.”
“I had no idea our therapist carried such weight in the magical community either.”
“When I showed up to my classes, the teachers had high expectations. They gave me more difficult assignments. In the beginning, I carried the burden well, but over time the cracks appeared. When I thought no one was looking, I started picking up rocks and other shiny things I found on the ground. At first, I believed my trips along the quiet streets in Budapest were a part of a new healthy habit to clear my mind, but when one of my wizard pockets began to fill with random things, I realized I had a growing anxiety problem.” He briefly closed his eyes. “I had more than a couple of rocks in my pockets.”
My tongue thickened in my mouth. His shame touched me deeply. “You were excessively hoarding again?”
He nodded. “And my stress carried over into patient treatment, too. After transferring a witch’s eczema from her hands to her face, I got my first strike. Then I spread a warlock’s genital warts across his forehead. Strike two. Somehow, I clawed my way to my finals for the semester, but I failed in the end.”
Nick stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “I nearly killed my patient.”
Other pedestrians veered around us. For once in a long time, I could hear my friend’s racing heart. I could feel his regret seeping from his pores. Usually, he blocked those sounds from me.
“My professor had to resuscitate them when I refused to intervene,” he said, his voice hollow. “Sounds crazy, huh?”
I took Nick’s hand and waited until his heart slowed down again. When the moment passed, I sighed for both of us.
“You don’t sound crazy,” I said. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. Matter of fact, since you’ve returned from overseas you’ve done a great job helping my family.”
“Your family doesn’t have any expectations like my people.”
“True.” I tugged him forward a bit, then released his hand when he followed. “Dr. Frank would tell us to confront what we fear and expose ourselves to it over and over again. We could walk by the clinic, and not go inside today, if that would make you feel like you’re trying?”
He considered my suggestion and nodded. “Seems easy enough.”
We left the shelter of the park out into the heat again. Two jump points later, we left Brooklyn and arrived outside of a four-story brownstone on the Upper East Side. A woman and her child passed us, but other than that, we were alone on this side of the street.
“Is the clinic usually this busy?” I joked.
“It’s busy enough. Most patients use a glamour or a direct jump point inside the office.”
“Sounds convenient.” My small talk died off. A part of me hoped coming this close would entice him to want to go inside, but he didn’t.
Maybe we needed a couple more trips.
“I’m thirsty,” I said offhand. “Let’s find a street vendor.”
As we left the front of the clinic, he admitted, “I don’t know why I’m hesitating. Or why I didn’t call you to seek help. Maybe I didn’t reply to your texts because I didn’t want to bother you. Yeah, I know that sounds like an excuse, but you’ve got your own life in Jersey now. You’ve got a husband and a huge family to support you. I wouldn’t want you worrying about me when you’ve got enough problems of your own.”
If he only knew. “You should always reach out to your friends,” I said firmly. “And yes, I’ve got problems, but I want to be there for you, too. If we have to setup lawn chairs in front of this place, we’ll do it.” I scratched my head while I considered my limited free time.
“I really appreciate it.” He finally flashed me the half-smile I missed. “Do you have to return home to get ready for work?”
“About that…” I told Nick about my horrible start at the night demon’s ceramic mart, the dead night guard, and my subsequent attack. I didn’t want his help to find the fairies, but if he knew anything, I’d welcome any suggestions.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d gotten hurt? That’s not a problem, that’s...a lot worse.”
“No shit. Like you said, we both have a lot going on.” I circled and showed him I was fine. “I’m good to go, but I need to find the spring fairies. They might have the whistle, and if I can get close enough, I might be able to see it through magic.”
“I have no idea how to find them,” Nick admitted. “They usually keep to themselves and avoid spellcasters. Did the night demon give any hints where they might be staying?”
“None.”
Nick thought a bit. “My boss back at the antique store in East Village might have info we could use. He takes specialty orders from Old Land tourists.” Nick pulled out his cell phone and send a rapid text.
Ten minutes later, after we’d snagged some cool drinks, we got the information I badly needed.
“We need to go downtown,” Nick explained. “My boss said the Winter Court likes the Time Square Marriott Hotel while the Summer Court avoids them and vacations in the Hamptons. The Spring Court can’t stand the Summer Court, so they stay at the Four Seasons off E 57th.” He chuckled. “You got that?”
Geez. And I thought I had familial issues.
Nick’s phone beeped again. He read the phone and added, “If you’re patient, you should be able to catch them during their teatime around twelve-thirty. I’ve had weird orders of tea sets sent there.”
I tilted my head. “Care to crash a tea party with me?”
His smile widened. “That sounds a lot more fun than what I had planned this afternoon.”
“More shopping?” I quipped.
“Maybe.” He chuckled a little.
Since we didn’t have much time before twelve-thirty, Nick and I hurried west across Manhattan to the Four Seasons. Using a nearby jump point, Nick tossed us into a basement storage room at the hotel.
“Not bad, Fenton.” The pitch-black room we arrived in smelled a bit musty and dusty, but at least we landed in a clean spot without any creepy creatures guarding it. “Glad to see a jump point here.”
Nick retrieved an oak staff from one of the magical pockets in his black coat. The tip of the staff brightened to illuminate the dark corners of the room. “The fairies leave magical traces wherever they congregate frequently.”
We weaved our way around stacks of dusty chairs and folded up tables.
“Over the last fifty years,” Nick added, “wizards and warlocks tapped into their signal, you might say.”
“Like a beacon?”
“You could call it that, but, like I said, my people don’t associate with fairies often. There’s been too much of a sordid history between warlocks and the fairy folk.”
I gestured to his beautiful staff. “Will the spring fairies attack first and ask questions later?”
“Hope not.”
“They’ll probably have guards since they were attacked not too long ago.” I didn’t want to fight them either, but I had to be prepared.
With Nick’s help to mask our presence, we snuck out of the basement, then hurried through a set of staircases until we reached the main floor. Locked doors slowed us down here and there, but Nick got us through all of them.
After navigating through the main halls, we eventually found the signs for upcoming events. One in particular, hosted in the private Westgate Ballroom, piqued my attention: Spring Court Party.
That got a snort out of me. “Why not come up with something less obvious?”
He shrugged. “If a human walked in, they’d see nothing but a bunch of other humans eating. Why bother pretending? They’re vacationing among humans for a reason.”
The double doors to the Westgate Ballroom were closed, but I cracked them open to peek inside. About fifty fairies used half the ballroom to have their meal of decadent tea cakes, scones, and fresh Earl Grey tea near the expansive windows overlooking E 57th Street. Fairy guards dressed in black suits surrounded them at a respectful distance.
I took a deep breath before I walked inside, but one fairy in particular stopped me cold. An elfin child with short, dark hair sat at the far end of the room. She stood out from everyone else in her bright red coat with large buttons down the front, a pair of white tights, and black Mary Jane shoes. Her legs were crossed, and she munched on a tea cake with dainty bites. Others enjoyed their food around her, including my target, Lady Ophelia.
Thank goodness, I’d found her, but I’d run into someone I’d hoped not to see for a long time.
My hand tightened on the doorknob. I had to make a decision. We couldn’t stand here for long, but I couldn’t stop staring at Lisbetta, the child queen of the Spring Court. Visions of her feeding off werewolves flooded through me. That child had stopped bullets from AK-47s, and she’d used magic to toss around objects with ease.
If I closed my eyes, I could still see the night she’d taken down her enemies: Her tiny form swarmed on them, leaping on one attacker to another. When she touched them, they folded in on themselves and withered away. Bodies convulsed from her grasp.
“What do you want to do?” Nick whispered, interrupting the flood of memories.
My mind screamed at me to turn around and go home, but I forced myself to open the door. “I have to know if they have the whistle.”
I walked in and Nick tried to grasp my wrist but missed. As much as I wanted to add a couple of counties between Lisbetta and myself, I had to speak with Lady Ophelia.
My pack depended on this conversation.
A hush fell over the room and all eyes landed on Nick and me as we approached the guards. The menacing fairies tightened the gaps between them to keep us from passing.
“You’re not welcome here, Wolf,” a tall fairy with dark eyes intoned.
“Looks like a great tea party, but I need to speak with one of your ladies.” I kept my distance yet glanced at Ophelia. The lady in question ignored me and kept speaking to the companion next to her about shopping in Miami this fall.
I dared not look at the young fairy queen, but I caught her smiling at me from the corner of my eye.
“Long time no see, Little Wolf,” she called out sweetly with a smile. “Let her come closer.”
The guards parted and a small group of fairies escorted us. None of them brandished weapons, but I suspected they had hidden ones. We got within ten feet of the party. Court ladies stared at us with concern. It was likely none of them had expected a wizard and a wolf to crash their teatime.
My gaze flicked to Lisbetta’s gloved hands, but I forced myself to return the smile and take in her face. “Hello, your Majesty. Sorry to disturb your gathering, but I came to speak with one of your sisters about an important matter.”
“Who might that be?” she asked.
“Lady Ophelia,” I replied.
“How interesting.” Lisbetta swung her feet and picked up another finger sandwich from a nearby platter. She turned to Lady Ophelia. “What business does the wolf have with you today?”
My former customer’s face grew pale. “Before you arrived a couple of days ago to protect us, many wicked creatures attacked the Spring Court. A creature we haven’t identified yet killed one of my ladies-in-waiting.”
“I’m sorry to hear about that,” I said gently. “What shape was she in, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“An animal with claws and teeth had gutted her,” she replied. “What was even more strange, the animal had left what looked like burns around her wounds.”
So these creatures were the same ones that had attacked me two days ago.
Lisbetta paused in the middle of eating. Had this news not been revealed to her?
Lady Ophelia continued. “I…took it upon myself to see the night demon about a weapon to protect us, your Majesty.”
“Did you now?” Lisbetta put down her sandwich and wiped off her mouth with a dainty light blue napkin.
Nick and I took a step back. My mother only said that term when she wasn’t amused.
Lady Ophelia smiled so hard that her cheek twitched. “One of my girls received an advertisement for the night demon’s barge, and I thought using Cerberus’s whistle would drive away our pursuers. When the night demon refused to sell it to me, I tried to sneak on the ship and failed—”
“You did what?” Lisbetta asked.
Nick and I backed up again. If Ophelia had had a Russian mother’s love (also known as upbringing), she’d start apologizing now instead of later.
Ophelia’s right hand shook, and her lower lip trembled. “I tried again a couple hours later and managed to steal the night demon’s whistle.”
Lisbetta and I exchanged a glance. I wasn’t sure what the young queen thought, but at least I knew who’d taken the whistle.
But how did the two set of prints I discovered around the night guard play into all this?
“You said you failed the first time,” I said. “Did the night guard stop you?”
“That cretin tossed me overboard like I was trash,” Ophelia replied stiffly.
“But you returned later?” I asked.
She nodded. “I had to have it, so I tried again not long before the sun rose. The night guard was gone, so I took a chance and stole the whistle.”
Damn, so that’s how all this went down.
My attackers took out the night guard for some reason, then Lady Ophelia was able to snatch the goods.
“I even left spiritual currency to pay for it,” Lady Ophelia snapped. “Doesn’t that count?”
I snorted and shook my head, recalling how I ended up working for the demons after doing the same thing at Kramkar’s thrift store.
