Autumn Whispers

Chapter 3

The Wayfarer was crowded, as usual. The early focus of the inn and bar had been on OW Fae, when Menolly had been set up as an undercover agent for the OIA. But two factors had shifted the demographics.

First, Menolly now owned the Wayfarer. And second, the minute she’d been chosen by Roman to be his consort, bloodsuckers galore began to hang out at the bar. Menolly wasn’t altogether thrilled with the change, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She did, however, insist on reserving the rooms in the B&B part exclusively for Otherworld Fae coming in to visit the area.

We threaded our way through the throng, up to the bar. Camille whispered something to me, but even with our heightened hearing, the noise of the crowd overwhelmed anything she was saying. I shook my head.

Menolly was on the phone, and she looked worried. By her side, Derrick Means, chief bartender and werebadger, was going at it full throttle, serving drinks right and left. Digger, another bartender—a vampire sent by Roman to help—was also working up a sweat. Figuratively, of course.

The barstools were all taken, but I spied a booth that had just been vacated and made a beeline for it. Camille followed, motioning for Menolly to join us. As soon as she hung up, she hopped over the bar and joined us.

“Is something wrong?” By her expression, I had the feeling something was going on. “Did you get another letter?”

She shook her head. Two weeks ago, Menolly had received a letter from some law firm by the name of Vistar-Tashdey, offering a large sum of money from an unnamed client. Whoever it was wanted to buy the Wayfarer and the language had seemed semithreatening. Menolly had tossed the letter aside, but from the few times since then that she’d mentioned it, I’d gotten the impression that it had unnerved her.

“No, but . . .” She glanced around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “I didn’t want to worry you but I’ve received two threatening phone calls—the second just a few minutes ago.”

Camille cocked her head, her gaze clouding over. “Who was it and what did they say?”

“I have no idea who it was . . . even whether it was male or female. The first time I thought it was some idiot teenager but now . . . I’m not so sure.”

“What did they want?” From my vantage point, I could see Tad and Albert threading their way through the crowd. “Tad and Albert are on the way.”

Menolly sucked on her lip. “Whoever it was threatened to burn down the bar and said that vamps deserved to charbroil in hell.”

Before we could say a word, Tad and Albert appeared by the side of the booth. They’d already stopped at the bar for bottled blood, which they were sipping discreetly.

With a warning nod to keep silent, Menolly switched over next to us, allowing the guys to slide into the opposite seat. I glanced at Camille, who looked as worried as I felt, but this was not the time to discuss it. Tabling the threats for after our meeting, I turned to the geek squad.

The pair were unlikely looking vamps, that was for sure. Nerds to the core, they wore Microsoft T-shirts, and ripped—but clean—jeans. Slender and lithe, Tad had a ponytail that trailed down his back, touching his ass. He was soft-spoken and funny, one of those sensitive guys who would never be an alpha, but that you couldn’t categorize as a beta male, either.

Albert, on the other hand, had been turned before he’d had a chance to shape up. He had a tidy beer belly on him. He sported a ponytail, too, though apparently he had just started balding when he’d been turned, so his hairline was receding. Last time we’d met him, he reminded me of the Comic Book Guy on The Simpsons. But this time, he seemed to have moderated his atttitude and had an almost pleasant look on his face.

They flashed us toothy grins. Their vampiric nature gave them an appealing feel and it flashed through my mind that they might actually be fun to hang out with; then I nixed that thought because even though I’d accepted my sister being a vampire, cozying up to the fangy set wasn’t a good idea in general. Their glamour was all too easy to misuse and abuse.

“Hey guys,” Menolly said. “How’s it hanging?”

“Long and hard.” Albert snorted as I blushed, but then his laugh slid away and a worried look filled his frost-colored eyes. “We have a problem.”

“What’s going on?” I pulled out my notebook and a pen. I always ended up typing our notes anyway, so I had finally put claim to the function of secretary for the three of us.

Tad blinked, his gaze coming to rest on my face. I recognized his expression. It was the same fear I’d felt when I was worried about one of my sisters. He leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“One of our friends has vanished. We’re really worried about her.” He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, taking out a snapshot of a girl. She looked a little goth, a little geek, and was pretty in an odd sort of way. And then, as I looked closer, I knew what made her look strange. She was Fae—probably Earthside Fae.

“What’s her name? Are you sure she didn’t just go on vacation?” Always, always, get the mundane questions out of the way before chalking up a disappearance to foul play.

“Her name is Violet, and no, she didn’t go on vacation. We’re in the middle of deploying a new product. There’s no way she could get time off right now. She hasn’t come in to work the past two nights and I’m not going to be able to cover for her much longer. Albert dropped by her house when he left work this morning, before going home, but she didn’t answer the bell.”

Albert nodded. “I left a note on her door but I had to get home before the sun rose. When I dropped by again tonight before work, the note was still on the door, and still no answer. I have a key to her apartment—I feed her cat when she’s out of town. So, I decided to make sure she hadn’t fallen and hurt herself or something. There was no sign of her, and the cat was starving. I fed Tumpkins, and when I got to work, told Tad.”

Tad cleared his throat. “That’s when we decided to call you guys. We thought you might be able to find out what happened to her.”

I glanced at Menolly, then Camille. “Was anything out of place? Any of her things missing?”

Albert frowned, then shook his head. “I didn’t see her purse, but nothing else seemed amiss. Her bed was unmade and her nightgown was lying across the bottom. I glanced in her closet and there were two suitcases there. I suppose she could have grabbed a carry-on if she had to make a sudden trip, but she would have called me to take care of the cat.”

“We’re worried,” Tad added. “This isn’t like Violet. She’s conscientious about her work, and she knows we need her. And she adores that frickin’ cat. She would never let him go hungry if she could help it.”

Menolly frowned. “It does sound odd. When was the last time you talked to her?”

“Near daybreak, night before last. She was at work. Last night, she was a no-show, and tonight. We’re taking a long break here to come talk to you.” Albert played with his bottle of blood, pushing it around in circles, the concern still washing across his face.

Camille bit into one of the pretzels from the snack bowl. “She have a boyfriend? Parents in the area? And when she left work, did she mention any problems that she’d been having?”

At the word “boyfriend” a scowl raced across Tad’s face, but he shook it away. “She’s been seeing some guy—his name’s Tanne. He’s from Germany, a writer.”

“Got a last name for us?” I paused, pen waiting.

“Baum. Tanne Baum. Fir tree. Like the Christmas song. He’s one of the Black Forest woodland Fae.” Again, the grimace.

“You don’t like him, do you?” I grinned, having a feeling the sentiment wasn’t so much the Fae’s nature but . . .

Tad let out a snort. “Like him? Not so much.”

Albert gave me the faintest of grins. “He’s jealous.”

Even though that was a no brainer, I affected a surprised look. Camille let out a faint snicker, and Menolly stared at the ceiling.

“Jealous? And . . . why are you jealous?” Stupid question, but I knew better than to say what I was thinking, which was “You’ve got the hots for her, right?”

Tad shifted uncomfortably. “I . . . When Brenda broke up with me, I thought that I wouldn’t ever find anybody I liked as much. But then Violet came to work in our group. I’ve never met anybody like her. She’s vibrant, and witty. She thinks differently than any woman I’ve ever known. I think . . . I think I’ve been falling in love with her.”

“Dude, you like her that much but you never asked her out?” Camille gave him a disgusted look.

“She’s seeing this Tanne guy . . .” He squirmed. “I don’t want to be responsible for breaking them up.”

“So what? It’s not like they’re married, and besides, she’s Fae. The Fae aren’t monogamous by nature.” With a sigh, Camille bit into another pretzel. “Humans, even when they’re vampires, you guys are so uptight about sex. But, be that as it may, do you have Tanne’s phone number or address?”

Tad swallowed the last of his bottled blood and wiped his mouth, saying nothing. But Albert reached out, grabbed the notebook from me, and scribbled down both. When he handed it back, a wry smile on his face, I couldn’t help but like him a little more.

“We sort of did some checking on the guy. Just to make sure he was on the up and up.” Albert glanced at Tad. “Baum is what he says he is, that we know. He comes from the Black Forest and he’s . . .”

“What Albert is saying is that the guy is intense, but genuine. And Camille,” Tad said, looking straight at her, “if I thought I even had a chance of being part of her world in that way, even in a poly relationship, I’d jump for it. But I don’t think she’s into humans or vampires. When I’m around Violet, she treats me like . . . like a brilliant puppy dog. I’d have as much chance of bedding you as I would her.”

His tone was so sad that my heart went out to him. He was willing to share, he was willing to put his heart on a silver platter, but the object of his attention had no clue and now she was missing.

Camille must have sensed it too, because she reached across the table and rested her hand on his. “You don’t know that for sure, Tad. Don’t underestimate yourself. You need to ask her . . . once she shows up again. She might surprise you.”

Tad shrugged. “I guess. But mostly, right now, I just want to make sure she’s okay. Will you guys check into this? We’d go to the police but they don’t listen to vampires very much, and we want to keep this quiet until we know there’s a reason to get them involved.”

I glanced at Camille, who nodded. Menolly gave me the heads-up too and I turned back to Tad and Albert. “Sure. Give us what you have on her and we’ll take a look around. We should go over and have a look at her place.”

“I was going to take her cat home with me tonight, and leave another note for her. We can go now, if you like.” Albert pulled out a ring of keys that looked hefty enough to KO a bodybuilder. He dangled them from his index finger. The next thing I knew, he winked at me.

Swallowing my surprise, I flashed him a bemused smile. “Let’s go, then. You guys have rides?”

Tad nodded. “We’ll meet you there, unless you want to ride with us.”

Camille pulled out her keys. “Nah, we’ll take my Lexus. Kitten, you have the address?”

I held up my notebook. “Right here. Let’s book.”

And so, we slid out of the booth. Menolly told Derrick she was going to be gone for a while, and we headed out into the night.

Menolly sat in the back while I rode shotgun with Camille. As the car eased out of the parking space, I flipped through my notes.

After a few moments, I looked up. “So, do we start with the threatening calls, or do we discuss Violet?”

“Violet,” Menolly said. “I told you everything about the calls I can remember for now.”

“Okay, then, we’ll table the threat talk until we get home. As to Violet, if it weren’t for the cat, I’d say she got bored and skipped town. The Fae don’t always hold on to their possessions, especially ES Fae.” Camille eased right onto East Aloha Street. “Where to from here?”

I glanced at the GPS on my phone. “When we get to Fifteenth Avenue East, turn left, then make a right onto East Garfield. Her house is located right after Garfield bends into Seventeenth.”

Camille nodded, flipping the windshield wipers to high. The rain was coming down in sheets, and a crash of thunder broke through the night as lightning fractured the sky. The road was slick and traffic had slowed in response to the heavy rain, but since it was past rush hour, the streets weren’t bumper-to-bumper, and following Tad’s Porsche wasn’t hard.

As we passed through the shops that turned into suburbs, the street began to wind and curve. The further we went, the older the houses grew; more weather-beaten but also with more character. Some of them were almost mansion-like, but they gave off an aged feel—not falling apart, but they had definitely seen the decades pass.

On Fifteenth, we passed by Volunteer Park, then as we approached Lake View Cemetery where Bruce Lee and his son Brandon were interred, we came to East Garfield Street and Camille turned right. East Garfield buttressed Interlaken Park. This was definitely a neighborhood that made perfect sense for one of the ES Fae to live in. Shortly before Auburn Place East, Tad eased into a driveway and we followed suit.

Violet’s house was a cute little cottage, and from what I could see from the front yard, it backed up against the park. Chiffon yellow, the house stood out like lemon pudding, but ivy-covered trellises leaned against the front walls, giving them a gothic appearance in the gloom-soaked October night. The porch light was on. Tad and Albert waited at the front door for us to join them.

“I left the light on this morning before I left. It hasn’t been turned off, as you can see.” Albert inserted the key into the lock.

I had a momentary flash of curiosity, wondering why it was Albert and not Tad who had possession of Violet’s spare key, given that Tad had the hots for her, but decided it wouldn’t be diplomatic to ask.

As Albert opened the door and stood back, allowing us to enter, Menolly stopped at the doorstep. I glanced at her, puzzled, but Albert seemed to immediately understand because he crossed the threshold and turned around to face her.

“Please, be welcome and enter.” His voice was surprisingly gracious and I suddenly understood. She had never been in the house and it was a private residence. It didn’t take the owner to welcome her in, but merely someone on the inside. Hell, a maid could unbar the way, or even a child.

The prohibition to entry didn’t count if the place was a publicly or governmentally owned institution—like a frat house or a dormitory or a hotel, which was why we’d been able to break into Dredge’s room at the Halcyon Hotel and Nightclub, and into the fraternity housing Dante’s Hellions. Nor did the prohibition bar a vampire from entering an apartment building . . . he or she just couldn’t break into the personal residences. Nobody was really sure what caused the force field, but it was there, and it worked.

Menolly crossed the threshold and Albert shut the door.

The house had an odd, empty air to it. Not the sense of abandonment when a place was left to rot and ruin, but of a flurry of a home whose owner had whisked away on vacation, or an unintended trip. Everything was neat and in order, and plants filled every spare surface of every table and shelf. They grew profusely, vining out like crazed groupies, their foliage thick and lush and vibrant green.

Camille lingered over one pot of flowers, gently fingering the leaves. “Violet is quite the gardener. Look at how beautiful and lush these are. Orchids like this are hard to grow for even experienced gardeners, but this one’s branching out like it is on steroids.”

The flower had five big blooms on it, the color of twilight, and while I knew squat about orchids, I did know enough to understand that they weren’t the easiest plant to keep alive. But then again, for one of the woodland Fae, it wasn’t at all surprising that her houseplants were thriving.

I glanced around. A cat was curled up on the sofa, staring at us. He was a gray and white fluff ball, with fur a lot longer than my own. Essentially, one gigantic tribble on legs. He yawned, and I smiled softly. This was his territory, and while my inner tabby let out a little hiss, the two-legged side of me that loved my own kind wanted to scoop him up and snuggle him and rub my nose in his belly. Camille did just that, laughing when he started to purr and lick her nose.

“I love this little guy.”

“He’s a keeper, all right.” I scritched him between the ears and he softly patted my hand with one paw, claws in. “You’re a well-behaved little munchkin.”

I glanced around. The apartment was tidy. There were no dirty dishes, no scattered papers. Absolutely no sign of a struggle. As I crossed to the desk, Albert went into the kitchen and we heard the rattling of cans—most likely pet food. Tumpkins jumped out of Camille’s arms and headed in the direction of the sound of the can opener.

A sudden thought crossed my mind and I turned to Tad. “The cat will be safe with Albert, won’t he? There won’t be any unnecessary . . . um . . .” Hallmark didn’t make a card asking an acquaintance to please avoid draining the cat of blood.

But Tad got my drift. “Albert loves cats. Very few vamps manage to get close to felines, but he always does. They seem to know that he would never hurt them.” By the soft look in his eyes, I could see he was telling the truth and it made me feel a lot more kindly toward Albert.

I slid into the chair at the desk and rifled through Violet’s desk drawers. Even they were organized in what appeared to be an almost OCD manner. It was obvious she wasn’t a smoker, nor did I find any booze or . . . I looked around. No books. There were no books in the apartment and no television. Oddly enough, the entire place felt devoid—except for the houseplants and the cat. In fact, now I knew what it reminded me of. It felt like a hotel room—impersonal.

I looked for a calendar but couldn’t find one. “Do you know if she had a Day-Timer?”

“Nah, she used the calendar on her phone and synched it to her laptop.” With a frown, Tad looked around. “Speaking of, I don’t see her laptop anywhere, or her tablet. She might have taken them with her, wherever she went.”

“Maybe in her bedroom?” I often took my laptop to bed with me to play games or answer e-mail before I went to sleep.

Blushing, Tad led the way. He stopped for a moment, staring at the bed as we entered. Covered with a gauzy spread, the bed was a king-sized futon, and a filmy nightgown made of spidersilk lay across the bottom. Two hooks had been drilled into the headboard, and velvet ropes hung down from them. One guess what they were for, I thought, trying to repress a smile. I’d seen Camille’s toy box often enough. I knew restraints when I saw them, just like I knew that my sister liked to be tied up at times.

But Tad just stared at them, glaring.

There was no sign of any computer anywhere, but I did find something under the pillow. A journal, written in an ES Fae language. I flipped through it, able to pick out a word here and there, but my command of the dialect wasn’t good enough.

“Camille, can you read this?” She could read a number of dialects, so I was hoping this might be close enough to one of them for her to muddle through, but she shook her head.

“No, but Aeval can. Let me take this, please. I’m due out at Talamh Lonrach Oll this weekend. I can ask her then if she will help me translate it.” She tucked it in her purse.

Menolly was standing over by the window. “You know, her bedroom faces the park. And there are no curtains here. Anybody could hide out there in the bushes and watch her.” She turned back to us. “Before tomorrow’s over, somebody should check out there to see if they can find any footprints or signs that someone has been staking out her house.”

The thought made me shudder, but I added it to my list of notes. “Right. I’d go out there tonight but we’d just mess up any prints in the dark. Tad, Albert . . . did Violet mention that there has been anything upsetting her? Anything out of the ordinary, at all? Think. Any little tidbit might be important.”

Tad ran his hand over the nightgown and shivered. “She said something a few days back that struck me as strange . . . let me think for a moment to make sure I get it right.” He mulled over his thoughts, then snapped his fingers. “I remember—she said that she was getting friend requests from someone online who made her nervous.”

“Really? She has a MySupe page?” MySupe was the equivalent to Facebook, even though most Supes used Facebook anyway.

“I don’t know if it’s Facebook or MySupe or what. She didn’t say and I mostly hang out at Tech-Know-Katz, so I’m not sure.”

“Hmm, we’ll look into it.” Camille frowned, then motioned for me to step out of the room with her. The look on her face set me on edge.

“I hate to bring up this thought,” she said, once we were alone, “but, do you think Tad might have something to do with her disappearance? He’s in love with her and she has never expressed an interest in him. She’s dating someone he obviously dislikes. Maybe he broke . . . did something to her, and now is trying to cover it up? Or he feels guilty and wants to get caught.”

At my expression, she shrugged. “Hey, it happens. Just saying . . .”

“I know, I know but . . . I don’t think so. Maybe I still want to believe the best in people, but my gut tells me he’s just as worried as I’m beginning to get. I could buy her running off to someplace without telling them, but not leaving her cat. Or her plants. Woodland Fae tend to treat their plants like children. And a dryad—or one of her cousins—wouldn’t abandon her floral babies or fur babies.”

She considered my point, then let out a sigh. “You’re right. But if she didn’t run off, then she was kidnapped. Or dragged away. What are the chances we’re going to find her alive?”

I didn’t want to think about that possibility. If she’d been the victim of a violent crime, chances weren’t good that we’d find her alive. I already knew that much. But now I wanted to help.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let’s finish searching her apartment and then we’ll head to Carter’s. And tomorrow, we’ll come out here and search the park out back of the house. She has no fence dividing the lawn from the ravine. Anybody could have been lurking out there.” Another thought crossed my mind. “Can you do a Seeking spell to find her?”

Camille considered the thought. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Remember the harpy? There’s no guarantee and my Moon magic still fizzes out as often as it works. I’m willing to give it a go. I’d also have to gather the right components first. We’ll see how it goes.”

With that, we finished our unfruitful search. Camille clutching the diary, headed out into the night. Albert found a carrier and took Tumpkins home with him.

After promising the guys we’d call them the minute we found out anything, we dropped Menolly off back at the bar—she had some things to attend to there—and Camille and I headed to Carter’s. The son of Hyperion, the Titan, and a succubus, the half Titan, half demon was leader of the Demonica Vacana Society, a group that watched over humanity and recorded interactions between the Demonkin and humans throughout the ages. Essentially, Carter was a demigod.

He had shoulder-length hair the color of Menolly’s, and he cut a handsome figure, with horns that curved gracefully back like those of a ram’s. He was able to pass in society by masking his demonic heritage when he chose to, but mostly, he stayed in his apartment, content to be a recluse. He was friendly and polite to us, but we never made the mistake of forgetting just how powerful he could be.

We parked outside the brick building that he lived in, and Camille stopped for a moment, closing her eyes.

“He’s got his wards back up, strong as ever. His sorceress must have rebounded after Gulakah’s bhouts and spirit demons dispersed.”

For a while, every magic-using person in the area—be they OW Fae or human—had been in danger. The energy-sucking spirits that the Lord of Ghosts had summoned had turned the city into their private feeding ground and nobody who used magic was safe.

Now, things seemed to be returning to normal, although we’d learned that it would take quite some time before the increasing ghostly activity would scale back. Gulakah had spent eons increasing the connection between the angry spirits of the Netherworld and Earthside. The mess wasn’t going to balance itself out in a few months, or a few years, even though he was no longer a threat.

As we clattered down the concrete steps leading to the basement apartment, the rain cascaded over the back of my neck. We seldom bothered with umbrellas because in Seattle, chances were good a rainstorm would be accompanied by windy weather. Umbrellas were sitting ducks for destruction.

Carter seemed to have a prescience about our visits; as usual, we waited mere seconds before the door opened. He stood back, graciously ushering us in. As we entered, the familiar comfort of the room welcomed us with its overly lush Victoriana décor, the aging upholstery that was still clean as a whistle, and the warm glow of the incandescent bulbs lighting the Tiffany lamps.

Carter was wearing his usual smoking jacket—this time a deep plum—and black trousers. Other than Roman, he was the only person we knew who could make a cravat look good. He waited till we were seated and then rang a bell.

A woman gracefully entered, wearing a stiff maid’s uniform. She carried a tea tray filled with delicious bites of cake and cookies and scones, and then she brought back a tray with a chintz teapot and cups and saucers. As she poured, we took a moment to sink back in the overstuffed seats, and relax.

Carter motioned for her to leave, then turned to us. “I’m glad you came. I assume you have some questions for me, but let them wait for a moment. I was going to contact you tomorrow anyway. I have news for you, and I’m not sure just how you’re going to take it.”

One of his cats—he had three and adored them—jumped up on my lap. I had, when they were babies, attempted to drag them off in my tabby form because they were crying for their mama, but now Roxy, the cream and white fifteen-pound wonder who had been an adorable tiny kitten, landed in my lap with a thump.

I grimaced—she managed to hit a trigger point to a sore muscle, but the minute she started to knead, a soft spot in my heart flared and I found my territorial nature softening. I wasn’t sure why, but lately I’d been more open to other cats. My hackles were less likely to flare.

Camille immediately took control of the cat, sweeping it into her arms and snuggling it. I grinned at her. She was an ailurophile, and while she loved her spirit kitty Misty that I’d gotten for her the preceding Yule, I knew she longed to have a real flesh-and-blood cat for a pet . . . and that did not include me when I shifted form.

Carter watched, an indulgent look on his face. After a few minutes, Roxy had had enough kisses on the head and snuggles, and leaped out of Camille’s arms, wandering off.

I cleared my throat. “So, what’s the news you have for us, and why do you think we might have some issues with it?”

Carter paused for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s just . . . in doing some research locally, I ran across . . .” He seemed at a loss for words, and that wasn’t like Carter at all. He was always eloquent, never tongue-tied.

I decided to make things easier. “Just spit it out.”

“Well, I’ve run across someone—two people—I think you need to meet. Their names are Hester Lou Fredericks, and Daniel George Fredericks. They’re brother and sister.”

“Why do you think we need to meet them?” Camille looked as confused as I felt.

“The fact is . . . they are your blood cousins . . . on your mother’s side.”

As his words hit home, Camille and I looked at one another, incredulous. What we’d always hoped for had finally happened—our mother’s blood family had come to light. Only now, I wasn’t sure it was such a good thing.