Enchantment Emporium полностью

He stared at Joe through the night vision goggles—the changeling had one foot up on the park bench, tunelessly whistling “Mime Abduction” as he struggled with a knot in one bootlace—thought about irony, and hit him with the Taser. The current theory among those in the know was that, as well as overwhelming the nervous system and causing temporary paralysis, a Taser could be used to disrupt the more exotic abilities of the Fey. He hadn’t actually seen Joe use any of those exotic abilities, but the redundantly careful lived longer.

Cable ties were in place around grimy wrists before the paralysis wore off, even given the Fey’s accelerated recovery time. Under the baggy clothes, the boy—Not a boy, he reminded himself—was surprisingly thin. Maybe he’d swapped bulk for height. Didn’t matter. Facedown on the asphalt path, hands secured in the small of his back, a knee between his shoulder blades and the end of the silencer tucked under one pointed ear, Joe O’Hallan wasn’t going anywhere.

“Blessed rounds,” he growled as Joe tried to twist his head far enough to see his attacker. “Stay still.”

The changeling froze, his muscles spasming as they finished throwing off the effect of the Taser. From this point on, it was the threat of a true death and the belief that his captor would pull the trigger that held him. A full-blood just up from the UnderRealm wouldn’t believe the threat—it would take a certain kind of scary crazy to go up against the Courts—but Joe had been living Human long enough he probably had no idea he was protected.

“We talk, then you can go.” Using his free hand to pull the back of the sweater down, he pressed the pendant against the damp, pale skin just under the hairline and watched goose bumps rise at the touch of the cool metal. “What do you know about what’s happening in the city?”

As the silence extended, he thought maybe he’d been a bit too obscure. He hadn’t wanted to give away any answers, but perhaps what’s happening hadn’t been specific enough. Then the changeling shivered as though he’d worked his way through to the actual question, snorted, and said, “I know what’s come through, don’t I? I’m not blind, and they don’t give a fuck who sees them.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“No! I’m not fucking stupid either! Best way to deal with them is to keep your head down.”

The pendant forced the truth. Anger added the flourishes—the Fey hated being bested by Humans. Anger usually added the flourishes. In this case, it sounded a lot more like fear.

“Have you had word from the UnderRealm?” If he had, he’d know why as well as what.

“No. They don’t give a fuck about me, and I wouldn’t listen to the fuckers if they did!”

It seemed the changeling hadn’t learned not to let sentiment stand in the way of survival. Good. And Alysha Gale hadn’t been given even the minimal information he had about their visitors. Better.

Still that did raise the question of what he’d been doing in the store for so long.

“I’m after working there, aren’t I.”

“Working?” There were any number of jobs a leprechaun’s strength and speed could be useful for. “What are you doing?”

“Selling shit.”

“Selling shit?”

“And going for coffees.”

“You’re working retail?” That was… unexpected. “Why?” He repeated the question with a little more physical emphasis when the silence extended.

“I think…” Pureblood or not, the changeling’s voice had nothing of the UnderRealm in it, sounding more young and terrified than immortal and devious. “I think she felt sorry for me.”

Pity made sense. He was starting to feel a bit uncomfortably like a bully and had to remind himself Joe O’Hallan was not Human.

He wanted to ask specifically about Alysha Gale, to see if the details of her story changed with her audience, but rumor had it that the family had an uncanny way of knowing when they were the topic of conversation, and he didn’t want to risk tipping her off.

Pressing the gun just a little harder against Joe’s head, he slid his knife blade through the ties, and freed Joe’s hands. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” Muscles tensed under his weight, a clear indication he’d been believed. “Talk about this, and I’ll want you dead.”

“I’m not going to be saying anything! I swear!”

The pendant felt warm as he dropped it into his pocket. “Count to fifty before you get up.”

Allie told herself that the time difference had hauled her ass out of bed at dawn, but standing at the window, hands cupped around a mug of coffee, she knew that was a lie. Mostly a lie. After the cake came out of the oven, she’d stayed up until midnight cataloging the contents of the spare room and finding nothing, so the two-hour time shift had certainly helped her haul her ass out of bed.

If the shadow returned, then yesterday’s pass over the store hadn’t been random.

And?

And then yesterday’s pass over the store hadn’t been random.

There really wasn’t a lot more information a shadow passing at that speed could impart.

Well, except for the obvious.