Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
We had no sooner settled into one of the empty offices when Ember popped in. Kipa excused himself as she settled into one of the chairs. She looked good, but strained.
“How are the triplets?” I asked.
“Thank gods I have a nanny,” she said. “They’re good. Growing like weeds. Hey, I thought I’d drop a little information before you say something that lands you in quicksand. First—about Yutani and Lyrical—”
“I thought I sensed some underlying discomfort,” I said. “What happened?”
“They’re both dealing with major unresolved issues, yet the fools went ahead and bound themselves together.
Lyrical is his muse now, and that’s making work difficult.
For one thing, most of the Leannan Sidhe aren’t monogamous.
But Yutani is. And Lyrical thought she could sidestep that part of herself—”
“Aren’t you half Leannan Sidhe?” I asked. “How did you do it?”
“My father’s side—the Autumn Bane blood—is territorial, and it seems to help calm those urges.
Both bloodlines cancel each other out, in a way.
But things got so tense between Yutani and Lyrical that Herne and I sent her off to visit a priestess who might be able to help her.
As far as Yutani’s concerned, she’s on a road trip.
As to Yutani…” She paused, then gave me a long look that I understood.
“Yeah, I know.” When I’d first started hanging out with Herne and Ember, Yutani had developed an obsessive crush on me that had been difficult to squelch.
He’d finally backed down, but apparently, he still had that proclivity.
“But if they’ve bound themselves together on a magical level, he’ll never be free.
Unless, will the fact that he’s a demigod help? ”
Ember rolled her eyes. “Coyote’s supposed to help him, but as usual, he’s not all that reliable. We’re just hoping that somehow, Echira—Morgana’s priestess—can help Lyrical find a way to release the bond. When Lyrical returns, I’ll open my temple and install her as my high priestess.”
I tried to keep down a snort. “You have a temple?”
Ember gave me a snarky look. “No…not yet. Morgana insists it’s time I open one, but I have to tell you, the idea feels weird to me.
Technically, I’m no longer her priestess, but I still answer to her.
And Cernunnos insists she’s right. So yeah, I’m going to have a temple.
It just feels so overwhelming,” she added, rubbing her head.
“I’m only a couple of years into this goddess gig, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
I don’t talk about it much, but it’s just weird.
Angel and I commiserate on a regular basis. ”
I nodded. “It must be a lot harder for Angel, given she was human and not Fae to begin with.”
“You’re right, but we’ll leave that discussion for later, when we can relax with some wine and pizza.
Anyway, so Lyrical’s on sabbatical and it would probably be best if you didn’t mention her in front of Yutani.
Not unless he brings it up.” She stood. “I’ll let you and Kipa get settled.
Talia can get you what you need from the supply closet.
” Pausing at the door, she added, “I know this is only temporary, but I’m glad we’re back together again. ”
I gave her a wink. “Me too, to be honest. Me too.”
An hour or two later, Herne peeked around the corner of the door.
Kipa and I had been organizing the office.
We’d talked it over and, after helping out with this case, Kipa would mostly be the one coming into the office.
He needed something to do, and I needed to figure out what to do with my life.
Oh, I was still a priestess of Arwan and Cerridwen, but I needed an actual occupation to focus on.
I’d kept in touch with Llewellyn, a friend of mine, and he’d offered me a spot in his magic shop any time I wanted, but I couldn’t handle reading cards for the public again, and I couldn’t accept.
“Well, you know I’ll always keep your space open for you,” he’d said.
Even though I couldn’t take him up on it, I planned on paying him a visit as soon as I could. I missed him and his husband, Jordan.
“Can you come into the breakroom? We got another call from the cops. They found another body this morning,” Herne said.
I gathered up my things—we’d been given tablets, phones, and everything we needed for now. Herne didn’t like members of the Wild Hunt using their own devices for the job.
“You aren’t going to make us get tattooed, are you?” I asked. “I already have so many birthmarks they might conflict.”
Everyone who worked for the Wild Hunt had to get a tattoo marking them as part of the organization—a dagger down their forearms, surrounded by vines.
Herne laughed. “No, you and Kipa are just consultants. We’ll pay you, of course, but you have your own lives and your own destinies. Don’t worry about that.”
“When’s Viktor arriving from Annwn?” I asked.
“He and Sheila are due back tomorrow,” he said. “I had to promise to buy them a house for Sheila to agree. But I need Viktor, so it’s worth it. Don’t tell her that I said that, please. I don’t want her gloating.” He winked, motioning for us to follow him.
Kipa snorted. “Now I’ve got something to hold over your head.”
“You would, too,” Herne said.
As we followed him to the breakroom, I thought that Herne was gorgeous—but not as handsome as Kipa. At least to me.
But truth be told, the Lord of the Hunt and the Lord of Wolves had a feral nature, an untamed wildness that came from their connection to the Hunt.
Herne’s father had that same energy, multiplied a hundred times over.
Cernunnos was the Lord of the Forest, and he felt as timeless as the forests were old.
Wager was waiting for us. He had a bag full of equipment. Viktor had been in charge of supplies, but Wager had taken over that part of the job.
“Ready?” he asked.
Herne nodded just as his phone rang. “Hold on.” He stepped to the side to answer it.
I glanced at Wager. We’d been good friends far longer than I had known Ember and Herne. At one point, he’d had a crush on me, but he’d never pushed it. And once I met Kipa, Wager had backed off, and our relationship had managed to grow into just that—a deep and caring friendship.
“How do you like working for the Wild Hunt?” I asked.
“It’s different. I like it, for the most part. And a steady paycheck beats uncertainty when it’s time to pay the rent. I’m glad you’re back, both of you. Maybe it will lighten the mood around here,” he added, glancing around. “If you know what I mean.”
“I don’t—” Kipa started to say.
“I’ll tell you later,” I interrupted. “It’s better not to discuss it here.”
“Right,” Wager said, blushing. “I need to keep my mouth shut.”
I glanced out into the hallway, but Yutani was nowhere in sight. “I doubt whether he heard.”
Kipa raised his eyebrows. “Must be something—” He stopped as Herne sighed and turned around. “What’s up, cuz?”
“I’ll cousin you,” Herne said, but he smiled. “That was the mayor again.”
“Is Serenades still the mayor?” I asked.
Herne nodded. “Yes, and she wants me to meet with her. So, the three of you need to go check out the latest find. Wager has all the information. Stop at the desk before you leave. Talia should have your badges,” he added, turning to Kipa and me.
“All right. What are we looking for?” I asked.
“Wager knows,” Herne said. “I guess I’d better head out.” As he turned to leave, he added, “Four bodies in less than a week. We’re in trouble, people. We need to figure out a link between the victims, so be ready to interview the families.”
As we followed him, stopping at the desk, it occurred to me that the sooner I learned how to harness talking to the dead, the easier life would be. It could provide us with answers we might not get any other way. But that power was still dependent on the will of the spirits, not my own.
The Seattle waterfront was a beautiful place, and—for the most part—had recovered from the dragon attacks of a few years back. The businesses that had been destroyed were rebuilt and seemed to be thriving.
And, of course, looming over the docks was the massive Viaduct Market—once known as Pike Place Market.
A kaleidoscope of vendors and their stalls, as well as small boutique businesses, the Viaduct Market also held an entrance to the catacombs.
Several, in fact, though most were hidden away from the public.
Once we found a parking spot, we entered the bustling milieu, a rainbow tapestry of shoppers and vendors.
The noise level was deafening, echoing up to the towering ceilings of the market.
The halls wound through the market in a labyrinth of stalls and shops.
And everywhere, the hustle of commerce filled the air.
Urban farmers selling fresh produce—tomatoes and corn, and greens of all sorts—hawked their goods next to tattoo shops.
Shifter specialty boutiques set up businesses next to marijuana apothecaries, sex shops shared walls with bookstores, and magic shops sold spells next to yoga studios offering peace of mind.
An air of excitement ran through the market, although I knew part of that came from the energy of the catacombs—the underground district of Seattle where the vampires held sway.
The upper levels were relatively human-friendly, but the lower levels were dangerous and—in an unspoken law—off limits to the living.
As we pushed through the market, heading toward the back, I glanced at Wager. “Why are we here? I thought the body was found on the docks?”
“It was. It’s already dissolved. We’re meeting the cops to talk to the wife of the victim.
She and her husband own a shop here. The cops found the body this morning and identified him.
They’re waiting for us to arrive before telling her.
” Wager grimaced. “I hate being there to witness that pain. But we need to find out where he was.”
“Do they know when he died?” I asked.