Gods and Swindlers (City of Eldrich Book 3) (16 page)

“Good for you, kid. I’m glad to hear it.” Buzz had known Russ long enough to be familiar with his checkered marital past. “She live here in Eldrich?”

Russ nodded. “Yeah, she works in city hall, but she’s down in Philly right now. Visiting family.”

“Wait, is she the cute little blonde who works for the mayor? The medium?”

“That’s her,” Russ said with a beaming smile.

“Good job, kid. When she gets back, I want to meet her,” Buzz said. “You got anything to feed a frozen old geezer?”

“Sit down.” Russ punched Jamie lightly on the arm. “And don’t you get any ideas. You’re still the designated snot-nosed brat around here, no matter what Buzz says.”

Meaghan pulled Russ aside as he headed to the fridge. “Don’t tell him about Natalie until we know there’s a problem,” she whispered in his ear.

Russ glanced at Jamie. He was laughing at something Buzz was saying and not paying any attention to them. “Okay. I checked in with Dustin,” Russ whispered. “He’s trying to contact the archive and see if she’s still there. The background magic is getting in the way. He’ll keep trying.”

Meaghan nodded. Time to break the news about the elves. She sat down at the table. “So, Buzz, what do you know about the fair folk?”

Buzz’s amiable face turned dark. It was like watching time-elapsed video of a thunderhead forming. “They’re nasty SOBs. I never bought that truce thing. I know Matthew had to make a hard call, but . . . well, he had to make a hard call. It’s easy to second-guess somebody when you don’t have to be in their shoes.”

“You’d have made a different call,” Meaghan said.

Buzz shrugged his huge shoulders. “Yeah, probably, but that doesn’t mean it would have been the right one. I hated them so much back then, I couldn’t have made any decision but to keep fighting.”

“What if I told you the war seems to be heating back up?”

“I’m not surprised. Matthew knew it would only be a temporary lull. We needed a chance to catch our breath. And the world was different back then.”

Russ brought Buzz a huge bowl of soup. “Working on the sandwiches.”

“Where’s my soup?” Jamie asked.

“On the stove. Get off your ass and dish it up. I’m not a waiter.” Russ winked at Buzz. “Kids these days.”

Jamie rolled his eyes and pushed away from the table. “Yeah, yeah, you lazy old fart.”

Buzz tasted the steaming tomato soup. “Damn, Russ, this is good. You must have learned this from your mom. Matthew could set the kitchen on fire making toast.”

Russ snorted with laughter. “Maybe that’s an impervious thing. Meg’s not much better.”

Meaghan ignored him. “How was the world different?”

“Well, it was the early eighties, during the Cold War. The fair folk were trying to work that to their advantage. It was only a matter of time until they manipulated things enough to make the nukes fly.”

Meaghan felt her stomach clench.
Those were the stakes?
I need to apologize to Melanie the first chance I get.

“Shit,” she murmured. “I had no idea it was that bad. But wouldn’t destroying us have killed off their food supply?”

Buzz shook his head. “Nah. In some ways, it would have made it better. The radiation wouldn’t have affected the elves, and in a couple generations, they’d have had what was left of humanity back to the Stone Age. Reduced supply, but a much more potent product from a better strain of livestock. What have the little shits been up to?”

“They attacked me in the forest last night,” Meaghan said.

Buzz stopped eating, his spoon halfway to his mouth, a look of shock on his craggy face. “Attacked you?”

Meaghan nodded. “Terry—Luka’s cousin, across the street—scared them off.”

Jamie sat down next to her, his cheerful demeanor gone, a ferocious look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, hon,” she said, taking his hand. “I’m fine. Not a scratch. Don’t worry.”

He squeezed her hand tightly enough to hurt, and then gave a jerky nod of his head. He rose to his feet and stalked toward the hall bath. “Excuse me.”

The door slammed behind him. A moment later, they heard a loud thump.

Russ nodded. “The wall punches seem to help.”

Buzz sighed. “Poor kid. He’s been through it this year, that’s for sure. You ever figured out what those wizards were up to?”

Meaghan shook her head. “Gotta figure out the fair folk first. Here’s the thing. There’s two of them in the house right now.”

Buzz rose to his feet, the chair crashing to the floor behind him. His huge hands clenched into fists. “Where?”

“One’s in the basement, chained up, under guard. The other—”

“Is right here.”

Sam stood in the kitchen doorway. He was trembling with fear, but wore a determined look on his face. He seemed even smaller and frailer standing in the same room with Buzz. “If you hurt her, troll,” his voice shook, “you will have to answer to me.”

Meaghan looked back at Buzz. “
Troll
?”

“Hey, Meg,” Russ said, stepping in front of Sam. “I just remembered who I hadn’t told you about yet.” He looked around the room. “Oops. Who wants coffee?”

Chapter Twenty

“H
EY, KIDS,” A
gravelly female voice said. “What’s going on up here?”

They all stared in the direction of the voice. Gretchen, small and plump and holding a fireplace poker, stared back. “I’d like some coffee. What are we doing?”

Nobody answered.

Gretchen, her white hair looking like the slovenly cousin of Lynette’s tidy bouffant, stepped around Buzz and plopped down at the kitchen table. “You got a cookie or something to go with that coffee?”

Meaghan spoke first. “Who’s down there?”

Gretchen yawned. “Relax. Lynette can handle it for a few minutes. Before I came upstairs, I had a nice graphic chat with our little friend about what I’ll do with this fireplace poker if he misbehaves. Told him I was going to stick it in the fire, and get it nice and hot first. You got a fireplace, right?”

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

“Russ. Coffee,” Gretchen said, waving the poker. “Chop, chop.”

Russ nodded and moved toward the coffeemaker.

“Geez,” Gretchen continued. “I feel like I’m in the middle of a bad western. Somebody draw or sit down already. Buzz, Sam’s a sweetheart with an even bigger axe to grind with the fair fuckers than you. Sammy, Buzz and a wild troll have about as much in common as I have with a Playboy bunny. The basic parts are the same, but there’s no way in hell you’d get us mixed up.”

Russ handed her a steaming coffee mug and the vintage Godzilla cookie jar Natalie had bought him for Christmas. “You want cream?”

Gretchen shook her head. “Nah.” She pulled a cookie out of the jar. “Homemade gingersnaps? Russ, you sexy beast.” She took a bite of the cookie. “Oh, baby. That’s so good. Everybody. Sit the fuck down. Now.”

In a strangled voice, Buzz said, “Gretchen, you can’t trust that thing.” He pointed at Sam, his huge hand shaking, but whether from fear or rage, Meaghan couldn’t tell.

Gretchen reached for another cookie. “Sam can’t do magic any better than you can, Buzz, and if you pull off Sam’s arms, Meaghan’ll cancel your city contract. And you don’t want that because then you’d have to get off your giant, lazy ass and look for clients. Play nice, boys, and everybody’s happy. La la la, kumbaya, let me drink my coffee in peace.”

“Would somebody mind explaining what the hell’s going on?” Meaghan asked, her voice shriller than she would have liked. “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the whole ‘Buzz is a troll’ thing.”

The front door slammed. Russ looked into the hallway. “I think Jamie left.”

Meaghan ran to the door and pulled it open. Jamie was headed down the driveway.

“Where are you going?”

Jamie turned fast and nearly slipped. Meaghan heard a muffled curse, then Jamie said, loudly, sounding out of breath, “Going to see my dad. I can’t . . . I can’t be around the fighting. It’s too . . . it brings stuff up.” He turned and stomped through the snow to the Donners’ house.

Meaghan shivered and stepped back inside. The snow was falling so fast it hissed as it hit the ground. There were already a good five inches accumulated on the porch rail that had been bare and dry at lunchtime.

Her worry for Jamie was tempered by the knowledge he was reaching out to John for help. Nobody understood what Jamie was going through like John did, and John was desperate to make up for the years he’d stayed away, too ashamed to be part of his son’s new life in Eldrich.

And besides, she had a war brewing in her kitchen. She didn’t have time to worry about Jamie right now. She hurried back into the house.

Everyone was sitting at the table again, eating. Buzz was plowing through a couple of sandwiches, and Gretchen was happily crunching cookies. Sam had more soup.

Russ reached over Gretchen and stuck his hand in Godzilla’s neck. “Don’t bogart the cookies, you old witch.”

“Hah!” Gretchen laughed through a mouthful of gingersnaps. “You better back off, sonny boy, or I’ll hex you.”

Meaghan took a seat, then took a deep breath, and said, “So, Buzz. You’re a troll?”

Buzz nodded.

“I thought trolls were made of stone,” Meaghan said.

“There’s a lot of different stories,” he said, between bites of grilled cheese. “But we’re flesh and blood, like you. Didn’t you read any of your dad’s journals?”

“He said you were almost extinct,” Meaghan said. “That’s it.”

“Full-blooded, wild trolls, yeah. The rest of us are part human, but on the large side. Real trolls are a magical species that the fair folk used to use as enforcers. Huge, strong, not too bright—or at least the fair folk didn’t think they were. They turn up in the folklore as giants and ogres, too. Got locked up in a demiworld a long time ago because they started defying their masters.”

Meaghan reached for a cookie. “Defying them how?”

“The fair folk liked using trolls because we’re so big,” Buzz said. “But the real advantage is we’ve got thick skins where magic is concerned. It’s hard to hex us. Takes some effort and planning.”

“But they hate the impervious,” Meaghan said. “Ask Sam.”

Buzz looked across the table at Sam. “Sorry, kid. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. It’s only—”

“My species deserves the mistrust all others feel for us,” Sam said. “I have been treated as something separate, something that offends them, all my life. But, to you, I appear no different from them. I must earn your trust.”

Buzz smiled at him. “And I guess I have to earn yours. If you don’t hex me, I won’t pull your arms off.”

Sam grinned. “I will abide by this.”

“It’s a deal,” Meaghan said. “But I still don’t get why the fair folk would find a troll’s immunity to magic to be a good thing.”

“We’re not immune, exactly. Trolls can definitely be hexed, but it takes slow deep magic that takes some time to brew up and needs to be maintained. The less human blood there is in the mix, the harder it is. You can throw quick defensive hexes at a troll—even a hybrid like me—all day long and you won’t do more than piss us off. But if you set out ahead of time to control us, well . . . think about it.”

“It would make trolls the perfect enforcers,” Meaghan said. “You couldn’t defend against a surprise attack because you wouldn’t have time to do deep enough magic.”

“Bingo.” Buzz finished his second sandwich. “Even magic-wielding humans couldn’t stand against full-bloods.”

“Then the trolls started figuring out how to block the fair folk’s magic,” Gretchen said. “And suddenly the thick skin was a problem instead of an opportunity.”

“Trolls aren’t naturally stupid,” Buzz said. “They were hexed. Drugged, is more accurate, because the fair folk spiked their food supply with potions to keep them under control. Their higher brain functions were dulled. The made-of-stone thing comes from a potion used to immobilize trolls in certain conditions, like daylight, as punishment for defiance or to prevent escape.” He shook his head. “Bad shit. Finally, the fair folk locked them away. The full-bloods, at least.”

“Would you want to see them freed?” Meaghan asked.

Buzz nodded. “Sure. If the war’s starting up again, they’d be a big help.”

“They can even pass as humans,” Gretchen said. “Some of them at least. Huge humans. The NFL and NBA would go batshit with joy.”

Buzz smiled. “The only problem is trolls, even the hybrids, live a lot longer than regular humans. I’m going to need to start pretending I’m old before too long and then fake my death. Pain in the ass. If we got the demiworld opened up, I could reinvent myself as a sports agent.” He pushed back from the chair. “That hit the spot, Russ.” He yawned. “I need to get out to Slepps’s Holler tonight. Check on the Millers. You don’t have a travel mug, do you? For coffee?”

Russ smiled. “For you, Buzz, I’ll go the extra mile. I’ll pour you a mug and fill you a thermos.”

“The moonshiners?” Meaghan asked. “They’re trolls?”

The Millers, Eldrich’s notorious moonshiners, were also notorious recluses. They had a handful of friends and neighbors who brought them supplies and distributed their product, but the general population never saw them. They were Eldrich’s analogue to Bigfoot. Rumored to exist, but seldom seen and assumed by many to be nothing more than local myth.

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