Precise oaths, p.3
Precise Oaths, page 3
The little creek had a grassy walking trail beside it. Liliana hissed in relief when her raw feet touched the sandy soil and green grass. She slowed to a rapid walk, probably far enough away from the werewolf that he wouldn’t find her. She regretted sacrificing her shoes, but they had thrown the wolf off her scent admirably.
Liliana used her human eyes to see where she was going. Her fourth eyes opened to find out what the three people hunting her were doing. She kept her head down so her thick, black hair would hide the large lavender and teal eyes on her forehead if someone happened to look.
She focused on the red-haired wolf-kin with the blue eyes and the big boots. She needed to be careful with her attention split. It had taken Liliana decades to master her fourth eyes. Flashes of what might be and what had been could mix and wander through the visions of what was.
Her mastery of her most valuable and difficult gift was now to the point where she could perceive a double image, each sharp and distinct. It was as if she walked beside the creek far from the two humans and their hunting red wolf and beside them in her neighborhood at the same time. After decades of practice, her divided mind could now fully process those two sets of input and continue to do simple things like dusting or walking.
The three people quickly caught on that they had lost Liliana and stopped chasing randomly through her neighborhood. They returned to her house and took shelter from the chilly drizzle on her porch. Liliana hoped none of them would think to check the roof.
“Do you seriously think this Rain Man girl is our perp, Pete?” Sergeant Giovanni asked as they went up the wooden stairs onto Liliana’s back porch.
The wolf-kin nodded. “She fits the description, and she doesn’t have an alibi.” Liliana noticed Peter Teague did not mention she was spider-kin, and the killer was almost certainly a widow spider based on his description of the manner of their deaths. Possibly his Normal companions did not know about Others.
Detective Jackson shook her head. “Maybe a hundred women in Fayetteville fit that description. Another hundred more if you include Liberty and the surrounding small towns.” She rounded on the red-headed man, hands on her hips, and glared up at the taller wolf-kin. “Why are you so damn certain a mentally challenged fortune-teller, who doesn’t seem inclined to swat a fly, is a serial killer?”
Peter Teague shrank under the short policewoman’s glare. “She shares some other similarities to the killer…um…that I’m not at liberty to discuss, ma’am.”
“Not at liberty to discuss?” The detective pointed a finger at the middle of the taller man’s broad chest. “Well, I think you better get some liberty, Dr. Teague. This is a murder investigation, and if you don’t come up with a damn good reason for me not to, I might decide to arrest you for obstructing it.”
Sergeant Giovanni held up a hand in her friend’s defense. “It’s really nothing he can talk about, Detective. I’m sorry. You just don’t have the clearance.”
“Why is he even here? Just what kind of—” Detective Jackson made air quotes with her fingers. “—special consultant are you, Doctor Teague?”
“I’m an expert in um…biological anomalies?”
“Biological what?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Biological anomalies!” Detective Jackson took a deep breath and let it out in a relieved sigh. “Now I get why you two have been driving me nuts, speaking in half sentences since I met you. You are exactly the man I want to talk to. There are some things you just can’t ask the forensics folks here in Fayetteville.” She sat down in Liliana’s cedar wood porch swing with the bright blue and green cushions. “So tell me, in your expert opinion, Dr. Teague, what sort of Other kills with acid venom like this?”
“You know about…uh…uh…” the wolf-kin stuttered.
“Others. I transferred here from N’Orleans. If you think the Other activity level around here is a little high, the Crescent City during Mardis Gras would have you crying to your momma.”
Liliana nodded to herself. So, they were all three aware of the hidden peoples. Useful information.
Sergeant Giovanni held up a hand. “The United States government cannot officially confirm such creatures exist.”
Detective Jackson waved that away. “I don’t need official confirmation of diddly. What I need is a clue as to what I’m looking for.” She rocked the porch swing in a slow glide. The height was just right for her. “I’ve been thinking maybe a Fae with toxic thorns, or maybe some kind of poisonous snake-kin, because of the huge puncture wounds, like fangs.”
Peter Teague shook his head and sat down next to her. His knees poked up, but it didn’t seem to bother him. “I thought the same thing at first, but not plant, and not snake. I analyzed the protein structure in the venom. Spider.”
“Spider.” Detective Jackson rocked and considered.
“Definitely spider. It has all seven of the black widow venom toxic protein structures, but with a much higher proportion of vertebrate neurotoxin and a completely unique organic acid.”
“And why do you think Madame Anna is spider-kin?”
Peter Teague rocked with her, letting the detective’s shorter legs set the pace. “She did a good magician’s job of keeping us distracted when she was reading Zoe, but I spotted her opening two extra sets of eyes. My guess is she has another set I didn’t see. Eight eyes. Spider-kin.”
The spider-kin under discussion stubbed her bare toe on a tree root. The toe throbbed with far more pain than such a minor injury merited.
Why do stubbed toes sometimes hurt more than broken bones?
She added a bit more attention to her human eyes so she wouldn’t trip again and berated herself for not being careful enough about hiding her spider eyes from the three strangers.
Back on Liliana’s back porch, Detective Jackson nodded. “All right. I’ll buy that. Having more kinds of vision would explain why she was the most precise and accurate fortune-teller I’ve ever met—and I’ve met a few in my day. She didn’t use any of the usual vagueness, optimistic platitudes, or data fishing attempts, and she had no way to research our backgrounds before we arrived. But what brought us here in the first place? You two were awfully cagey about your reasons. I assume they’re Other related?”
Sergeant Giovanni, who was leaning against the porch railing, crossed her arms and gave Peter Teague a pointed look.
His smile turned sheepish, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “You know Siobhan, the little person who owns the custom weapons shop down the street, Emerald Arms?”
Detective Jackson nodded. “She modified my backup pistol. They don’t make the grips with hands my size in mind.”
“She’s Fae and knows nearly every Other in North Carolina. She said Madame Anna was the only spider-kin in Fayetteville. Plus, Anna matched the description from the security cameras at the dance club and the witnesses at the game.”
Liliana bared her fangs at the sandy path under her feet. Siobhan, the seelie Fae flower sprite, had put a mercenary on Liliana’s trail. The spider-kin would not forget that betrayal.
“Dammit, Pete. I told you we shouldn’t listen to Fayetteville’s resident cuckoo cyber-fairy.” Sergeant Giovanni sighed. “Your relationship with her is bad for your career and your mental health.”
“Siobhan isn’t crazy,” Peter Teague hastened to reassure Detective Jackson. “She’s just a little…obsessive.” He turned back to the Army sergeant. “And Zoe, you shouldn’t call her a fairy, at least not where she can hear you. The Fae consider that an insult.”
“What’s she going to do, take me out at the kneecaps?”
The red-headed man grimaced as if in pain. “Possibly with a machine pistol, yeah.”
Sergeant Giovanni wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Even the supposedly sunshine and rainbow Others will stab you in the back. You need to spend less time with them, Pete. They’ll warp your brain. They just don’t think like people.”
Detective Jackson raised an eyebrow at that, but she continued rocking without comment.
Liliana cocked her head to one side as she walked briskly, trying to ignore her tender feet. The sergeant did not seem to know Peter Teague was an Other himself, despite their friendship.
As Liliana followed the footpath into a larger patch of woods, she thought about leaving town, disappearing, and creating a new identity. She hadn’t moved in five decades, not since her second mother died at the turn of the millennium. She liked Fayetteville. The weather was pleasant, and business was good. A constant stream of soldiers and soldiers’ families, mostly Others, paid her to check on their loved ones as they fought far away. She even helped some Normal human civilians keep an eye out for whatever life might bring.
My clients.
Her steps faltered.
Moving would mean leaving her clients on their own. They would have no one to watch over them, no one to guide them away from danger and toward happiness.
She loved her job. It let her positively affect so many in Fayetteville, without forcing her into social interaction.
What would she do if she left? Join a circus again?
Her lip curled in an automatic sneer of distaste.
She had grown up in the circus, but she hated the chaos—always moving, always traveling. She liked the comfort of routine and stability. She liked her cozy little house in her cozy little neighborhood with her books and her pretty things.
A lot of circuses had gone virtual in the last few decades, traveling holographically rather than literally. That might not be quite as bad.
Liliana sighed and pulled the thin silk of her homemade blouse around her shoulders against the cold and drizzle. She was barefoot, her tights wet and torn, and she had no coat.
Before she could go someplace warm and dry and decide what to do with the rest of her life, she had to figure out what to do about the red wolf hunting her.
She tightened her fists.
Regardless of what her life would become, she would not die beneath red wolf fangs like so many of her kind.
The Fae colonel who paid the mercenary to hunt her needed to call him off.
Chapter 3
Fae Colonel
With her fourth eyes, Liliana searched for the man who held the red wolf’s leash. A Celtic wolf mercenary, once paid, would not leave the hunt unless his employer rescinded the order. She saw several images of the handsome colonel, but they were all on base. He lived in a house in Fort Liberty. He worked there. He ate there.
Liliana had lived for decades on the doorstep of America’s oldest Army base. The huge base housed the third Army special forces group, Delta Force, some rumored special ops teams that no one was allowed to talk about, and a whole lot of regular soldiers.
Liliana had not received a Social Security number when she snuck into the country in 1943, stowed away in a cage full of lions, two of whom were her brothers. She had no driver’s license and no chip ID embedded in her skin like many Americans born since the turn of the millennium. She did all her business in cash, or the modern equivalent, pay cards. She had a rule against her clients taking her picture. She did not appear on social media sites. Her business all came from word of mouth and a few who saw her sign. She avoided camera drones and CCTV cameras whenever possible. As far as the United States government was concerned, Liliana did not exist. The spider seer preferred for that to remain the case.
That made getting onto the military base very problematic.
Just when she’d begun to despair, and consider other options, she saw the Fae colonel leave base, today, just a few hours in the future, according to his wrist phone. He only drove a few blocks off base, on her street, to Emerald Arms custom weapons shop. He would park in the small lot behind the shop and go in to say something to Siobhan and come back out. After speaking to her, he would drive right back to base. Liliana had a narrow window to catch him.
While she could speak to him before he went in, she would have to be very careful. The colonel might be more dangerous than his mercenary.
She retraced some of her steps, keeping a close fourth eye on the Celtic werewolf and his companions to make certain they didn’t return to the area. They went to the police station to research anything they could find out about Liliana on the computer.
Liliana chuckled to herself. Good luck.
When the colonel’s car pulled into the parking lot behind Emerald Arms, Liliana would be standing in it. She sealed the back door shut with a spot of webbing so Siobhan would not interrupt them.
Under her skirt, she tied the equivalent of a climbing harness like the safety harness she used to wear in the circus. A line of her silk under tension led from just above the waistband of her skirt up to the roof of the building. In seconds, she could use that tension to propel herself onto the roof and get away.
She simultaneously needed to be close enough to the colonel to have a conversation and maintain enough distance to escape if he attacked. She should appear to him to be simply standing casually in the lot.
Plus, she knew better than to touch anything living when facing a dangerous Sidhe. Gravel and asphalt were the only things near her, unless she counted the stubborn dandelion growing in a crack a short distance from her foot.
She looked at it critically. The Fae probably couldn’t use it against her. It was pretty, and she admired its determination. She left it alone.
Drizzle dripped down her face, annoying her as she waited.
At precisely the time she expected him, the colonel pulled into the parking lot and got out of his big, blocky, camouflage-painted car with the giant tires that looked like it could climb a mountain. It suited him.
“Hello,” she said. He was even taller than he had seemed in her visions.
“Hello,” he said, with a puzzled expression. “Do I know you?”
She hesitated for a moment. In her visions, she also had not noticed how nice his voice was, deep and smooth. It reminded her of Barry White. “We have never met, but I need to speak to you.”
“I’m all ears.” He gave her a broad smile that looked like he copied it from a magazine ad and a hands wide open gesture.
She looked at him with the only eyes she currently had open, her human eyes, unwilling to open any more in a parking lot in broad daylight. He did not appear to have any more than the one perfectly formed ear, since the other was lost in scar tissue. She didn’t see any extra ears. “Um.”
He chuckled a little. “I’m listening.”
“Oh. Okay.” Liliana spoke to the man’s shiny brass belt buckle while scratching at the back of her neck where a drop of liquid managed to work its way through her thick hair to tickle her nape. “The last man I killed was over four decades ago. He tried to beat my elderly second mother and rob her. Before that, when I was much younger, I killed a man who tried to force me into sex, and one from a rival circus who tried to poison my little brother while he slept in lion form.”
The tension changed in his body from relaxed to ready with only a slight shift of his weight to the balls of his feet. “Why are you telling me who you’ve killed?”
“I am not a murderer. I only kill when I must to protect myself or my family. I have not killed anyone in a long time.”
His eyebrows went up. “Are you the one who killed my men?” His eyes traced the path of a drop of water that ran around her eyebrow, down her cheek, over her jaw and neck, and down into her cleavage below the low neckline of her blouse. She became uncomfortably conscious of how the damp cold outlined her body and peaked her nipples.
“Your men?” she asked, shifting her gaze to his pseudo-suede combat booted toes so she wouldn’t notice him noticing her so much.
“All the soldiers who’ve gone missing worked for me.” He took a casual step closer to her as if to explain at a more conversational distance.
She couldn’t take a step back without losing the tension that would let her spring to the roof rapidly. She held up a hand in a gesture for him to stay where he was. It was unlikely to be a coincidence for all the dead men to work for him. Their deaths were obviously also caused by a widow spider, and widow spiders only needed Other blood. “A lot of Others work for you.” That was also unlikely to be a coincidence, since there were so many more Normals than Others.
“Yes,” he said, his expression and lovely deep voice both neutral.
She nodded. So, he knew what his soldiers were. “Call off the Celtic wolf you paid to hunt me.”
“I didn’t pay him to hunt you.”
Liliana blinked water off her human lashes, and even without her third eyes confirming his words, she believed him, at least the literal truth of his words. Sidhe were particular sometimes about their phrasing, but usually told the truth. So, this Fae colonel had not paid Doctor Peter Teague, and probably had not indicated that he should hunt her in particular. That didn’t mean he hadn’t asked the red wolf to stop his soldiers from getting killed, or that he would in any way discourage him now. She tried giving him back the same honesty. “I didn’t kill your men.”
He studied her for a moment, as if considering taking her word, then his fighting crouch became slightly more pronounced. “Teague and Giovanni are a sharp investigative team. I’m more inclined to believe them than a stranger, especially one accused of murder.”
She sighed. This was getting her nowhere fast. He did not believe her, even though she believed him. Now he probably thought she’d killed his soldiers and only came here because he was next on her list. “Detective Shonda Jackson is also a smart investigator. She does not believe I killed your men.”
“The civilian police detective assigned to the case?” He took a subtle step closer to her, making it look like a simple shift of weight from foot to foot. He was trying to creep close enough to grab her so he could use his superior size and strength to his advantage.
