“To Brogan’s Brogues,” a small voice spoke up.

  I jumped a foot in the air when a short wizened old woman popped out from behind a table just beside me. She was below five feet in height with a face like a raisin. The woman sported a frazzled bunch of shocking white hair which matched her pale face. She held her hands with one atop the other and the dominant digits rubbed the lower hand in a smooth circular motion. It was almost mesmerizing.

  Tegan bowed his head to her. “Good morning, Mrs. Brogan.”

  She narrowed her eyes at Tegan’s coat which I had returned to him. “You better not be coming here for a fix on that coat.”

  He laughed and brushed some dirt off the sleeve. “No, I expect these threads to last my lifetime. Speaking of threads, how is business lately?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not as good as I would like. Some sneak decided to copy a few of my styles and offer them as their own.”

  Tegan lifted an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you’re tolerating that.”

  Mrs. Brogan hunched a little more and cackled. “I don’t expect that to last long. I’ve called up a Key to help me, you see, and they’ll get the job done.”

  Her words piqued my interest. “What kind of job?”

  Her sharp dark eyes fell on me. “To curse him with hairballs every time he sells one of my designs!”

  Tegan chuckled. “You haven’t changed, dear Mrs. Brogan. Speaking of the Keys, however, I know you’ve had a great many dealings with them over the years.”

  She snorted and swept a wizened old hand over her products. “You can see for yourself. Every one of these is gifted by magic, and some came at a pretty price, I’ll tell you.”

  I lifted an eyebrow as I studied some of the strange shirts. “These have magic in them?”

  Mrs. Brogan gave me a curious look. “Of the finest kind, but don’t you know what a brogue is?”

  “She’s from a rather isolated area,” Tegan spoke up as he nodded at the clothes. “But what can you tell me about the Keys that come here?”

  Mrs. Brogan shrugged. “I don’t ask questions about them. They do their job and leave.”

  A sly smile curled onto Tegan’s lips. “Are you telling me that you don’t have any interest in the private lives of such mysterious individuals, Mrs. Brogan?”

  She lifted her chin and twitched her nose. “Well, I might have spoken to them a time or two. Just about minor things, mind you.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, about their schedules, since I rarely saw the same one twice. Apparently, they’re apt to be tossed to the four winds when there’s a job to be had.”

  “Anything about their hierarchy?” Tegan wondered.

  The old woman rubbed her hands together even faster. “They were rather tight-lipped about that. Said something about the Senate not wanting them to open their mouths, but I did hear them mention how some Keys had more leeway than others based on seniority and magical strength. Oh, and there was some mention of an elite group, but they shut up very quickly when I asked about them.”

  Tegan smiled and bowed his head to her. “You are a wealth of information, Mrs. Brogan.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “I would rather be wealthy, Mr. Arsa, and that means I need to sell some of these very nice pieces of clothing.”

  He grinned as he gestured to me. “And I have just the customer for you. This young woman is in desperate need of some new attire.”

  “So I surmised,” Mrs. Brogan used as she looked me up and down. “Now then, what were you looking for? A revealing outfit with all the trimmings?”

  “Something more practical, at least for the timing being,” he replied.

  Mrs. Brogan examined him with a sharp look. “Do you have the coin?”

  He smiled and bowed his head. “As much as you like.”

  Mrs. Brogan turned and shuffled into the wilderness of products. “Then follow me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  We did as Mrs. Brogan bid and soon found ourselves in the back of the store. A half a dozen smaller tables lined the back wall. These were covered in heavy white cloth. She grabbed the end of one of them and yanked the cover off to reveal only two shelves. The clothes on them were plain and familiar, but sturdy looking. There were leather jackets stacked on top of heavy jeans. Long overcoats were draped across short and long-sleeved shirts.

  Mrs. Brogan turned to face us and her eyes revealed her pride. “These are some of my best work and cost some of the most coins for their magical powers.”

  I lifted an eyebrow as I studied a pair of jeans. “What kind of magical powers?”

  She nodded at the pants I admired. “Touch them.”

  I reached out to do so but the moment my fingers came within reach the pants leapt up. A yelp escaped me and I stumbled back into the arms of the bemused Tegan. The jeans did a short jig atop their fellow pieces of clothing before they dropped back down onto the heap.

  “Their spryness guarantees they will never be stolen from the clothesline,” Mrs. Brogan told me as she picked up a simple white blouse and draped it across her arm. The shirt’s color changed to match the hue on her sleeve. She lifted the shirt and the white color shimmered back into view. “A hiding shirt. Always useful for those who find a great deal of trouble.” She rolled her eyes over to Tegan. “I imagine you will desire many of these.”

  Tegan smiled and nodded. “Two will do.”

  Mrs. Brogan used a hand to gesture to the pile. “You can buy the other if you can find it among these other colors.”

  I reluctantly dug into the pile, mindful of the dancing jeans, while Tegan asked Mrs. Brogan a question. “Do you happen to have a pair of pants that are as strong as dragon scales and as light a feather?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “How can I make such a thing when no dragon will give me his scales?”

  Tegan lifted one arm in front of himself and drew back his sleeve. A scale sprouted from his flesh and he grasped the flake between two fingers. He gave a pull and winced when the scale came out, leaving a small hole that was soon grown over by flesh.

  Tegan held out the scale to her. “Will that suffice?”

  Mrs. Brogan snatched the scale from him and turned her back on us to admire her prize. “Yes, yes, this will do very nicely. I will see that the Key who comes will integrate this into a pair of jeans.”

  “There’s enough there for two pairs,” Tegan countered.

  She winced and twisted her head around to catch his eye with her pleading ones. “But perhaps I might keep something for another piece?”

  Tegan shook his head. “You know the rules, Mrs. Brogan. By all rights, I shouldn’t even be entrusting you with what you hold.”

  The old woman’s shoulders slumped and she frowned at him. “This will not be cheap.”

  A crooked smile appeared on his face. “I didn’t expect it to be.”

  She grasped the scale tightly in one hand and whipped her head to me. “Have you found the shirt?”

  I lifted a purple blouse of the same style and the color changed to white. “I think I just did.”

  “Then you can put one on in there,” she told me as she waved a hand at a small changing room box. Her eyes then fell on Tegan. “And you can pay in advance and be off with you,” she snapped as she shuffled over to a small table with a heavy black money box.

  I slipped into the box and shut the door, but a small gap between the entrance and frame allowed me to see into the room. Tegan followed her and removed his money pouch from whatever hole he had it hidden. Money was exchanged and I noticed the pouch was very slim as he tucked it back.

  “When can we expect the jeans?” he asked her as I slipped out of the changing room. Tegan partially turned toward me and his eyes showed his appreciation.

  “Come tonight,” she told him as she glared at the front of the store. “After that cursed sun has fallen.”

  Tegan smiled and bowed his head. “We’ll be here.”

  He caught my eye and I followed him out of the store with my old and new shirts draped over my folded arms. The street was just as crowded and the sun was a little stronger. I blinked against the bright rays and the action brought to mind our appointment later.

  “Is Mrs. Brogue a werewolf?” I asked my companion as we stepped onto the cobblestones.

  Tegan turned to me and smiled. “Do you think she is?”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “She’s a vampire?”

  He chuckled. “Were you expecting them to have long fangs and immediately jump you?”

  I shrugged. “I thought I looked tasty.”

  His eyes took on a heated gaze as he looked me up and down. “I won’t deny that, but vampires in the werewolf world do have to keep a low profile to avoid any unwanted attention.”

  “So is that the same for werewolves in the vampire world?” I wondered as we walked down the street.

  He stared ahead and a pensive expression appeared on his face. “Unfortunately, yes, but werewolves have the advantage of being able to be out during the day, so they can avoid the vampires if they can afford to.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “Afford to?”

  “Vampires are long-lived creatures and so accumulate a great deal of wealth,” he told me as he stretched his arms over his head. “That makes it rather expensive to live in their areas of control.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the shop. “So does she have super vampire speed, too, to get those jeans stitched in time?”

  Tegan smiled down at me. “Vampires aren’t any faster than we mortals, but you can rest assured she’ll have the jeans finished before sunset. Her word is as solid as any contract. Now then, what do you say to some lighter entertainment before we visit the Key office? And I also have some business in this city.”

  I swept my eyes over the sights. “I would like to see some more things and there’s no hurry to go to the office, anyway, is there?”

  “Should there be?” he countered.

  I tried not to look at him as I spoke. “It’s just, well, I’m not in a hurry, so if you’re not in a hurry then we can go anywhere.”

  Tegan smiled and offered me his arm. “Then allow me to show you the capital of the werewolves and all its sights.”

  I accepted his arm and nodded. “Sounds great. Now what are we going to see first.”

  “The bowels,” he replied as he pulled me forward.

  My mouth dropped open as I stumbled along beside him. “The what?”

  Tegan chuckled. “The darker shades of the capital. That’s where my business lies.”

  I wrinkled my nose as I caught up to his long steps. “That sounds. . .suspicious.”

  “It’s a perfectly legitimate business,” he assured me as we strolled onto a side street and left the prim and proper wealth behind us. “It’s merely frowned upon by much of the populace.”

  I blinked at him. “How does that work?”

  He flashed me a mischievous grin. “Spectacularly, and the pay is quite good, as well. That is, if you can survive the jobs.”

  I grabbed his arm with my other hand and dug in my heels. They bounced over the cobblestones for a few feet before I managed to get him to stop. “Wait a second. I think you need to tell me what kind of jobs you take on.”

  Tegan turned to me and feigned surprise. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m a bounty hunter.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  My jaw dropped to the ground and bounced back up to snap my mouth shut. I briefly sputtered spittle before I shook off my shock. “You’re a what?”

  “Do you not have those in your world?” he wondered.

  “Y-yes, but they’re not exactly the spitting image of respectability,” I told him.

  He stretched out his arms on either side and nodded down at himself. “Then I fit the part.”

  I looked him over with his dark attire and long coat, and couldn’t deny he did look like a rogue. A really cute one. “So is that why you’re not worried about money? Because you have some ‘jobs’ to turn in?”

  He smiled at me as he gestured down the street. “Why don’t I show you? Perhaps your opinion of we lowly hunters will improve.”

  My heart felt a little squeezed by his gentle rebuke as we continued onward. “I didn’t mean it that way. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

  Tegan chuckled. “There’s no need to apologize. You’re not the first to think little of my profession and I must admit there’s many among us who do justice to that image.”

  I tried to act nonchalant as we strolled through the maze of streets. “What kind of jobs do you take up?”

  “Fetch quests mostly,” he revealed as he shrugged. “Somebody loses something to somebody else and I’m hired to get it back.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Is that what you were doing with the witches? Getting something back from them?”

  He gave me a sheepish grin. “That was a bit of a botched job. I was supposed to sneak into their grove and snatch some apples from their magic tree which they owed to a client of theirs, but I was spotted. They decided to take advantage of the situation by snatching some of my blood for their soup. It’s said to hearten the heart.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “What sort of magic apple? I mean, what does it do?”

  He reached into his coat and drew out a small apple. The unblemished skin was a brilliant golden color and a single leaf clung to its stem. It was the perfect teacher’s apple but for the strange color. “This apple is guaranteed to eliminate any blemish on one’s appearance, such as scars and the like.”

  My mind wandered back to the appearance of the hags. “But not wrinkles?”

  He grinned as he tucked the apple back into his coat. “No, not wrinkles. The witches sell them for a hefty price but their client insulted them and they refused to return either the money or give them the apple.”

  “So you were called in,” I finished for him.

  Tegan nodded. “And unfortunately, I was spotted. I transformed into my more magic-impervious form to protect against their attacks and the combination of magics must have sent us into your world.”

  I walked on my tiptoes and tried to peek into his coat. “Are you hiding a house in there? I keep expecting to see you pull the kitchen sink out.”

  Tegan patted the front of his chest. “My wings aren’t the only things that can be hidden inside my body.” My eyes widened and I stumbled over the uneven cobblestones. Tegan caught me before I fell and righted me so we faced each other. “You should be more careful. I would hate to have to use this apple on you.”

  I freed myself from his gentle hold and shook my head. “S-sorry. I was just, um, surprised. I mean, I didn’t know dragons could do something like that.”

  “Have you met any dragons?” he wondered with a twinkle in his eyes as we continued on our journey.

  I shook my head. “No, you guys are pretty much extinct in my world. There were a few around a thousand years ago. At least, if the legends are true.”

  “Perhaps they walk among you as the werewolves walk among us now,” he suggested as he nodded at the dwindling crowds around us.

  Our path had taken us southeastward down a gentle slope and the scent of water floated past my nostrils. We rounded a corner and found ourselves on a narrow street with a mishmash of houses on either side. Some were rundown shacks and others had second floors with balconies, but what they all had in common was a decrepitude that cast a dark pall over my mood. Broken fences barely concealed trash-strewn side alleys and paint peeled from every wood board exposed to the elements. Weeds choked the cobblestones and overran some of the houses, too, as their roofs had gaping holes that allowed rain inside.

  “Nice place. . .” I murmured.

  “It’s home to some and a hiding place for others,” Tegan commented.

  I stretched my neck as I beheld a shimmer of something at the end of the street. “Is that the Cumann River again?”

  “Yes. It meanders its way through every kind of neighborhood until it reaches the ocean far to the south.”

  We reached the end of the street and found ourselves without a bridge. Rather, a narrow stone path followed the river both north and south. Tegan nodded in the southerly direction. “The Pay Post is this way.”

  I was forced to follow behind Tegan as we ventured southward following the river. A foul stench occasionally struck my nostrils and I couldn’t help but notice bits of trash floating here and there. I was glad when we reached a side door on one of the houses that abutted the walk and Tegan took out a strange key from his coat pocket. The teeth weren’t actually shaped like teeth but like a circle with Celtic-like runes inside. He grasped the dirty knob and inserted the key into the lock and a soft black light emanated from the hole before I heard a click. Tegan opened the door and stepped inside, and I was quick to follow.

  We found ourselves in a dimly lit room with rough floorboards. There were no windows and only a few oil lamps illuminated the interior. The walls, too, were made of rough wood as was the ceiling. The only pieces of furniture were a few ancient-looking chairs and a counter built into the wall opposite the entrance. There were no other doors into the space, though I suspected one could be had behind the table.

  A man sat on a stool behind the counter with one arm leaning on the top. He was about forty, slightly balding, and with a few wrinkles under his eyes. His attire consisted of a ratty shirt and equally worn pants, and a pair of soft shoes.

  He was reading a book as we entered and didn’t look up as he turned a page. “You took your time, and did you really have to bring a guest in here?”

  Tegan smiled as he strolled over to the desk and draped an arm on the edge. “You’ll have to get used to her, Alan. She’s my new partner.”

  I choked on my surprise and the man finally lifted his gaze to study me. His eyes were dark and nearly as sharp as Mrs. Brogan’s though they didn’t have the hint of vampirism in them. “She looks different than your usuals.”

  I snorted. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Kate here has a knack for getting me out of trouble, so I have to keep her around,” Tegan mused.

 

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