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Authors: Laurell K. Hamilton
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magic. “I’m not Bittersweet anymore. I’m just Bitter, and we have no queen,” she said. She began to fly toward the door.
O’Brian said, “Detectives?”
We all stood and began to move carefully after the demi-fey. Lucy came close to me and whispered, “What kind of damage can she really do?”
“Enough to blast the door off its hinges,” I said.
“With my people between her and the door,” Lucy said.
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, shit.”
I agreed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A VOICE CAME THROUGH THE DOOR, HIGH AND MUSICAL; JUST HEARING it made me start to smile. “Bittersweet, my child, do not fear. Your fairy godmother is here.”
Bittersweet dipped toward the floor again. “Gilda,” she said in an uncertain voice. The bee sounds were fading along with the scent of summer-browned grass.
“Yes, dearie, it’s Gilda. Calm down in there and the nice policeman will let me through.”
Bittersweet floated to the floor in front of the surprised Wright and O’Brian. The little fey laughed and the two officers laughed with her. The demi-fey were our smallest people, but some of them had glamour to rival the sidhe, though most of my people would never admit it.
I found myself wanting to help Gilda get through that door. I glanced at the detectives to see the glamour working on them, but it wasn’t. They just looked puzzled, as if they heard a song but it was too distant to understand the words. I could hear the song too, something like a music box, or the tinkling of chimes, or bells, or … I shielded harder, a flexing of the mind and will, and the song was pushed away. I didn’t want to smile like a fool or help Gilda get through that door.
Bittersweet laughed again and Lucy’s partner did too, nervously, asif he knew he shouldn’t. Lucy said, “Did you leave your anti-charm at home again?”
He shrugged.
She reached into her pocket and handed him a small cloth bag. “I brought extra today.” She flicked her eyes at me as if wondering if I’d take offense.
“Sometimes even I wear protection,” I said. I didn’t add out loud, “but usually only around my own relatives.”
Lucy gave me a quick smile of thanks.
I whispered to Doyle and Frost, “Do you feel Gilda’s persuasion?”
“Yes,” Frost said.
“It’s aimed at fey only,” Doyle said, “but she has not the precision to aim only at Bittersweet.”
I glanced behind me at Robert. He seemed fine, but he came closer to us at my glance. “You know brownies are solitary faeries, Princess. We’re not so easily taken by such things.”
I nodded. I did know that, but somehow the plastic surgery made me think of Robert as less than pure brownie.
“But just because I can fight it off doesn’t mean I don’t feel it,” he said, and shivered. “She’s an abomination, but she’s got juice.”
I was a little startled at his using the word “abomination.” It was reserved for humans who had fallen afoul of wild magic and been changed to something monstrous. I’d met Gilda, and “monstrous” wasn’t a word I would have used to describe her. But I’d only met her once, briefly, in the days when everyone in L.A. thought I was just another human with a lot of fey blood in my family tree somewhere. I wasn’t important enough or a big enough toadie for her to be interested in me then.
The detectives moved out of the little partitioned area. Robert motioned for us to go first. I gave him a look, and he whispered, “She will make this about queens. I want it clear which queen I would choose.”
I whispered back, “I am not queen.”
“I know you and tall, dark, and handsome gave it all up for love.” He grinned and there was something of the old brownie in that grin;it needed less-than-perfect teeth and a less-than-perfect face, but it was still a leer.
It made me smile back.
“I’ve got it on good authority that Goddess herself came down and crowned you both.”
“Exaggerations,” I said. “The power of faerie and Goddess,
O’Brian said, “Detectives?”
We all stood and began to move carefully after the demi-fey. Lucy came close to me and whispered, “What kind of damage can she really do?”
“Enough to blast the door off its hinges,” I said.
“With my people between her and the door,” Lucy said.
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, shit.”
I agreed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A VOICE CAME THROUGH THE DOOR, HIGH AND MUSICAL; JUST HEARING it made me start to smile. “Bittersweet, my child, do not fear. Your fairy godmother is here.”
Bittersweet dipped toward the floor again. “Gilda,” she said in an uncertain voice. The bee sounds were fading along with the scent of summer-browned grass.
“Yes, dearie, it’s Gilda. Calm down in there and the nice policeman will let me through.”
Bittersweet floated to the floor in front of the surprised Wright and O’Brian. The little fey laughed and the two officers laughed with her. The demi-fey were our smallest people, but some of them had glamour to rival the sidhe, though most of my people would never admit it.
I found myself wanting to help Gilda get through that door. I glanced at the detectives to see the glamour working on them, but it wasn’t. They just looked puzzled, as if they heard a song but it was too distant to understand the words. I could hear the song too, something like a music box, or the tinkling of chimes, or bells, or … I shielded harder, a flexing of the mind and will, and the song was pushed away. I didn’t want to smile like a fool or help Gilda get through that door.
Bittersweet laughed again and Lucy’s partner did too, nervously, asif he knew he shouldn’t. Lucy said, “Did you leave your anti-charm at home again?”
He shrugged.
She reached into her pocket and handed him a small cloth bag. “I brought extra today.” She flicked her eyes at me as if wondering if I’d take offense.
“Sometimes even I wear protection,” I said. I didn’t add out loud, “but usually only around my own relatives.”
Lucy gave me a quick smile of thanks.
I whispered to Doyle and Frost, “Do you feel Gilda’s persuasion?”
“Yes,” Frost said.
“It’s aimed at fey only,” Doyle said, “but she has not the precision to aim only at Bittersweet.”
I glanced behind me at Robert. He seemed fine, but he came closer to us at my glance. “You know brownies are solitary faeries, Princess. We’re not so easily taken by such things.”
I nodded. I did know that, but somehow the plastic surgery made me think of Robert as less than pure brownie.
“But just because I can fight it off doesn’t mean I don’t feel it,” he said, and shivered. “She’s an abomination, but she’s got juice.”
I was a little startled at his using the word “abomination.” It was reserved for humans who had fallen afoul of wild magic and been changed to something monstrous. I’d met Gilda, and “monstrous” wasn’t a word I would have used to describe her. But I’d only met her once, briefly, in the days when everyone in L.A. thought I was just another human with a lot of fey blood in my family tree somewhere. I wasn’t important enough or a big enough toadie for her to be interested in me then.
The detectives moved out of the little partitioned area. Robert motioned for us to go first. I gave him a look, and he whispered, “She will make this about queens. I want it clear which queen I would choose.”
I whispered back, “I am not queen.”
“I know you and tall, dark, and handsome gave it all up for love.” He grinned and there was something of the old brownie in that grin;it needed less-than-perfect teeth and a less-than-perfect face, but it was still a leer.
It made me smile back.
“I’ve got it on good authority that Goddess herself came down and crowned you both.”
“Exaggerations,” I said. “The power of faerie and Goddess,
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