Lie Down with Dogs (25 page)

Mai’s brand of love was going to end up killing me if I didn’t kill her first.

No one had Mom’s contact information except for Mai and Shaw. Shaw might lecture me, but he wouldn’t interfere in my relationship with Mom without my say-so.

However, he lacked Mai’s “clinical experience”, and her habit of confusing
intern
for
licensed medical professional
. She would dial up Mom and spill her guts in a heartbeat if she felt it was best for me.

Too late to turn back, I kept shuffling toward the office, praying this was all some lingering drug-induced hallucination.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the woman who sounded suspiciously like my mother yelled.

I kicked it up a gear to a jog tortoises everywhere would envy.

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” The woman huffed silver hair from her eyes and marched toward me. She reached me before my feet followed my brain’s shouted orders to turn tail and run for real. “What in the world were you thinking not calling me? You vanished for two weeks.
Two weeks.
I thought you were on vacation in Daytona.” She planted her size seven flip-flops on the pavement. “Was that a lie? Were you afraid to tell the truth?”

Yes.
“I did go to Daytona on vacation.” My palms went damp. “After I was suspended—”

A terse finger shoved the sunglasses onto her head.
“You were suspended?”

Her indignation puzzled me. “Yes?”

Even more baffling, her eyes had sprung a leak.

“This is my fault.” She gripped my upper arms and shook me. “I made my own child afraid to tell me the truth.”

“Momma.” I winced while she rattled my brain. “It’s fine. I swear.”

“That’s not what Jackson said when he called this morning. He told me about that man, Balamohan.”

Et tu, Shaw?
“He did?”

“You are such a brave girl.” She brushed hairs from my forehead. “Braver than I ever was.”

I shifted on my feet, unsure where to look. I hated seeing her cry, hated making her cry.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Mai hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “The magistrates are waiting.”

Mom hesitated before taking her first step toward the building. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

“This might take a while,” Mai warned.

Mom was not to be deterred. She set her shoulders back. “We’ll play it by ear, then.”

Draping an arm around her shoulders, I led her inside the building and straight to Mable, whose eyes widened a fraction before she blinked away her surprise.

I nudged Mom forward. “Do you mind keeping her company?”

Mable, who had been filing papers in a cabinet pushed against the wall, grasped the situational context immediately. Humans with fae relatives were allowed through the door with an escort, but they weren’t allowed to leave the waiting area and had to be chaperoned while on conclave grounds.

Throwing Mable and Mom together for the first time and then ditching them was not how I pictured this meeting going down. Actually, I had never imagined the two women who raised me would be in the same room together. Ever.

After patting her hair, Mable thrust out a plump hand. “I’m Mable.” She beamed. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dearie.”

“I’m Agnes. Hi.” Mom took her hand. “You’re sure I’m not taking you away from work?”

“Paperwork will keep.” Merry laughter rang out. “This is a special occasion. Come with me.”

Mom let herself get ushered toward Mable’s private quarters with a last slightly panicked look at me. “Thierry?”

On my way past, I dropped a kiss on each of their cheeks. “Mable will take good care of you.”

“Come on, Tee.” Mai indicated the stairs. “They’re eager to get started.”

“Funny thing.” I trailed her close enough to breathe on her neck. “Turns out Shaw called my mom.”

“Huh.” Her steps quickened. “He did that?”

The predator in me was amused. “No sly little foxes put a bug in his ear about it, did they?”

She pointed to herself. “This sly little fox wouldn’t touch a bug with a ten-foot pole.”

I snapped my teeth near her ear, laughing when she jumped two steps. “That is not an answer.”

After bounding up the last flight, she skidded to a stop before the gleaming silver wood doors, braced a hand on the knocker and spun around.

“Here we are,” she panted. “Guess we’ll have to talk later.”

“Yeah.” I flashed my teeth. “Let’s make that happen.”

Shaw might chastise me in private, but going over my head meant crossing a line I had drawn in the sand a long time ago. He wouldn’t have done it unless
someone
who knew us both well,
someone
whose judgment he trusted, convinced him that it was time Mom unburied her head out of said sand.

“You may enter,” a cultured voice called.

Here we go.
I twisted the knob and stood frozen in the open doorway. The entire composition of the room had changed. The creepy mirror effect was gone, replaced by a creepier circle made of spindly silver chairs. Fourteen spots. Three empty chairs. Our magistrates, Evander and Kerwin, filled two, and a petite fae woman I recognized from an old case I had worked with Shaw occupied another. Irene Vause. A magistrate with the Northeastern Conclave. I bet the dour guy bent to her ear was her Unseelie counterpart.

In front of me, three chairs stood empty. On the opposite end of the loop, Shaw watched me.

Subtle inhales carried the scent of rich magic and apprehension, an interesting combination coming from this crowd. Walking into that eerily silent room with zero idea about what had prompted a gathering of this magnitude made my palm crackle from the electric charge in the air. I felt like a matchstick at a powder-keg convention, like if I struck out at the wrong person, the whole room might go
ka-boom
.

Evander seized control of the proceedings by gesturing to the empty seats. “You look well.” He affected a sincere demeanor. “I wish we had the luxury of time for you to make a full recovery.”

“I appreciate your concern,” I said stiffly.

He folded his elegant hands. “You must be curious about what prompted this gathering.”

My smile showed plenty of teeth. “I’m sure you’ll share when you’re ready.”

A sharp elbow sank into my side. “Behave,” Mai whispered.

“Gentlemen, meet our champion.” Kerwin’s smirk traveled the circle. “Thierry Thackeray.”

Champion sounded ominous. What hoops had they lined up for me to jump through next?

“Let us begin again.” Evander drowned out Kerwin. “The situation in Faerie has escalated since you were taken. As you have made no secret of your feelings for your husband, I feel this is a proper setting to announce rumors of the Rook’s death are circulating among the fae.” He studied me, expecting a reaction. I gave none. “In your absence, with the Rook missing and presumed dead, the Morrigan seized control of the throne. She has named herself as queen.”

All heads swiveled toward me. I met each gaze with a serene expression even as Righty’s parting shot rang through my head.

We are faithful to the crown and the one who wears it.

Well, this answered my earlier question about their loyalties.

Odhran and Daire belonged to the Morrigan.

“Rook’s death doesn’t make her queen.” I tamped down the dull throb of betrayal. “Faerie’s crown is won, not hereditary.”

One of the other fae leaned forward. “Are you aware of who shared the prison with you?”

I angled myself in his direction. “I was told they were all death-touched fae.”

“Aye, they were.” He nodded. “All were gods and goddesses, death portents or their offspring.”

Mai’s eyes rounded. “She was taking out the competition.”

Seething magic sparked in my palm. Linen deserved so much worse than the death I had dealt him.

“With neither the Black Dog nor his pup to intervene,” another fae said, “the Morrigan has adopted the old ways. She has seized control by force, and it will require force to wrest the title from her and supplant the true queen upon the Faerie throne.”

The moisture wicked from my mouth. “You want me to challenge the Morrigan for the crown?”

“It is yours.” The fae stared at me, brow wrinkling. “Do you not wish to challenge her?”

“The Morrigan was gifted the ability to cross realms by your father,” a third fae intoned. “She is able to cross his wards and manipulate his tethers, and a skill learned by one such as she is not soon forgotten. She has the advantage. She will enlist Unseelie insurgents and wage a war to win Faerie to her side, and then she will turn her gaze upon this realm. She harbors no love for humans and has no reason to spare them.”

Or us
was implied.

“I barely survived Faerie the first time.” With the direction this conversation was heading, I was mentally preparing for round two. “Without Rook and Diode, I wouldn’t have escaped in one piece.”

Evander raised a hand for silence. “We would not send you to face an army without provisions.”

I leaned back in my seat, wishing I could sink into it and escape this mess.

“You’re proposing a suicide mission.” Mai’s voice carried. “The Morrigan can’t be killed.”

“She’s a
death
goddess,” I reminded the room. “Can she be snuffed out permanently?”

“There are two acceptable outcomes,” Kerwin announced imperiously. “Either the rightful queen of Faerie will seize her throne or the tethers into and out of Faerie will be severed so that no one can cross realms.”

I held very still and reevaluated the fae in this circle. They knew the threshold was Mac’s doing, or they wouldn’t have expected me to be able to counteract his magic. They knew how he laid those wards. They knew they were asking a blood price from me. Magic like his ran deep, and breaking them might break me in the process.

And not one of them cared as long as their hides were saved.

Burgeoning dread prompted me to ask, “What do these provisions entail?”

“A guide,” Evander volunteered. “One who is familiar with Faerie and who will provide for you.”

A headache blossomed in my temples. “That’s it?”

“Perhaps you ought to ask the guide’s identity before you dismiss him,” Kerwin advised.

Even knowing I would regret it, I asked the question. “Who is the guide?”

Evander motioned one of the fae toward the door. “Show him in.”

Audible gasps had me turning in my chair to examine the newcomer, but all I saw was a familiar neon-yellow cat who had evidently decided to grace the room with his presence. If he was the guide, I might consider the offer.
Consider.
Ha! Like any fae in this circle would give me an honest choice.

I wiggled my fingers at him. “Hey, cat.”

With an amused rumble in his chest, the cat replied, “Insolent pup.”

Spines stiffened and shoulders straightened in a panicked ripple throughout the room.

Thinking I must be missing something, I stared through the doors into the hall. Empty. Only the cat had been out there. Sure, he was big. Diode was a saber-toothed cat mutation à la Faerie. But that alone wouldn’t have caused eyebrows around the room to smack the ceiling when they spotted him.

I was missing something.

Twisting with him, I stroked a hand down his back when he walked past me and went to stand in the center of the circle. I exchanged a puzzled look with Mai then checked Shaw for his reaction. His expression gave nothing away, unless you knew him like I did.

Shaw had anticipated this exhibition.

Kerwin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I believe you two know each other.”

The cat glanced over his shoulder at me, and that one look tightened my stomach. “Yes.”

“Enough,” Diode’s voice boomed. “She is no mouse and I no cat to play such wasteful games.”

I tried to find the joke in that, but if there was one, it sailed over my head.

Violent shivers racked his furry shoulders down to his narrow hips, standing his shocking yellow fur on end. A whiff of familiar magic crackled in the air. Before I pinpointed the scent, an explosion of white light knocked me back in my chair.

I scrubbed my hands down my arms and wiped off the prickles of residual energy.

The sounds of chairs scraping in unison across the floor snapped my head up in time to watch as the fae slid from their seats onto their knees. I followed their stares to the center of the circle where a great cat had been a moment ago, where a man now stood, and my arms dropped along with my jaw.

Luminescence writhed at his feet, black and glittering. Magic poured to the ground from jagged, raw runes that looked carved into his left hand by a broken-fingered butcher wielding a butter knife.

Dark emerald eyes gazed back at me, unblinking. Thick black stubble shaded the man’s scalp, and his height made staring up at him painful. He wore dark wash blue jeans with a white T-shirt and a crisp button-down that brought out the color of his eyes. But his scuffed brown leather boots kept drawing my eye. Not them so much as the mound of rumpled neon fur draped across their toes and wedged under his heels.

“Hello, Thierry,” the man said when it became obvious I was incapable of speech.

I did what any daughter would have done in my shoes.

I got up and left.

J
ogging down the stairs kept me a beat ahead of the hot tears fuzzing my vision.
I am not crying.
Halfway to the bottom, I slammed into a petite woman and sent her staggering into the opposite wall.

“Sorry,” I mumbled on my way past.

“Thierry?” Her timid voice called after me, “Is that you?”

Something familiar about her...

“That’s me.” After flicking the moisture from under my eyes, I turned around and faced her. “Do I know you?”

Her skin was so pale she appeared bone-white at first glance. Beneath her makeup, her skin held faint grayish tones. Unseelie then. Her eyes were heather gray, and her lips were painted a soft pink shade. A long braid of midnight hair hung over her shoulder, complementing her stark black dress and ballet flats.

A blush swept color into her cheeks. “I’m Branwen.”