The Hallowed Hunt

“Make it a hundred and you’re on.” I snorted. “Balentine managed a backside 1260 off the heels—that little trick that helped Sage Kotsenberg win the Olympics. Even now, only a handful of snowboarders can do it.” We had been arguing for the past fifteen minutes, and by now we were reduced to He said–she said tactics.

“A hundred it is. Prepare to lose your money.” Viktor flashed his phone my way. “Skyler landed that same jump two days ago in Aspen.”

Angel leaned between us, her hands firmly planted on the table.

“Will the two of you please shut up? Nobody else gives a damn about the match. Make your bet. Buy nachos and beer for the games. But if you don’t stop this incessant squabbling, I’ll break the TV so you won’t be able to watch the race. And since it’s on a weekday afternoon, there’s no chance in hell you’ll be able to sneak out. Do you understand me?”

Viktor cleared his throat. I stared at my hands. Nobody was safe when Angel got into a snit and there was no doubt, she was well into one now.

“Well? Are you going to answer me?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Fine, we’ll keep it for after hours.” I narrowed my eyes at Viktor, sticking my tongue out.

“Adulting really well, Kearney,” Viktor snorted, but he stopped when Angel turned to him.

“What did I say?” She tapped her foot on the floor, her boot making a definitive I’m waiting statement.

“All right, all right. I’m good. Ember and I were just having some fun.” Viktor shrugged, giving me a guilty smile.

I sighed. “We’re good. We weren’t really fighting. We’re just…passionate…about snowboarding.” I turned back to Viktor. “This winter, want to head up to the slopes for some practice? I’m not very good, but I’ve tried it a few times and love it.”

He picked up a cookie and tossed it to me. I caught it mid-air.

“Sure thing. I’m not sure how I’ll fare, given my size, but I’m willing to give it a go.” He laughed in that gentle-giant sort of way. “Sheila might want to come along, too. Maybe we should get up an agency-wide outing. What about it, Talia? You willing to hop on a snowboard?”

Talia choked on her cola. “Me? On a snowboard? Even when I had my full powers, I don’t think I would have been interested in risking my neck, barreling down the side of a hill at what…thirty, forty miles per hour or more?” She glanced at the door. “When’s Herne supposed to get here?”

“He was supposed to have been here by now,” I said, glancing at the clock. Herne had texted everybody in the Wild Hunt at around seven o’clock with a note that we needed to make sure we were at work on time. He hinted that something big had happened. We were all waiting in the break room. It was now eight-fifteen and he was late.

“Well, he’d better get here soon, because we have a client coming in to talk to him about billing at nine. Dwarf who thinks Herne overcharged him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dwarves always think they’re being overcharged. Even Ginty’s a pain in the ass about money, and I like him.”

Dwarves were notorious for hoarding treasure and money, and they didn’t like giving any of it up. While Ginty McClintock kept his prices at his bar low enough, he was good at nickel-and-diming his customers to death.

“Who do you like? Better not be talking about another beau.” Herne entered the break room. Stopping to give me a quick kiss, he tossed his messenger bag on the counter and headed to the coffeepot, where he poured himself a tall mug of black coffee. He set it down next to his bag, then shrugged off his leather jacket. His hair was hanging loose today, long and golden blond, grazing the back of his shoulder blades. His eyes were cornflower blue, and the slight scruff of a beard made him look just unkempt enough to be super-sexy. He was wearing a pair of black jeans with a silver belt, and a V-neck T-shirt.

“If I had another beau, I’d be exhausted. You’re man—or rather god—enough for any woman,” I said, winking at him. “I was saying that I like Ginty, even if he’s cheap.”

“He may be cheap, but he’s generous to a fault when it counts,” Herne said, sliding into his chair. “But we can talk about him another day. We’ve got a problem.”

I sighed. It seemed every time we turned around, we had a problem.

Yutani looked up from his laptop and brushed his hair back from his face. He was pensive today, and had barely spoken since Angel and I arrived. Now, his dark eyes flashed and he cleared his throat. “Need me to take notes?”

“No, let Talia do it. I want you to check on a few things as I go along.” Herne glanced around the room, the smile fading from his lips, replaced by a somber look. Something must have happened to make him so pensive so early in the day. “Everybody ready?”

I pulled out my tablet. Angel, Viktor, and Talia did the same. Yutani was poised with his fingers ready to play across the keys as Herne needed information.

“Ready, boss,” Talia said.

“These were found at the scene of an assault last night.” He pulled a sheath of papers out of his bag and tossed them on the table in front of Angel. They were flyers, advertising something. “I made photocopies so you can all look at them. Pass them around, please.”

Angel took one, then handed out the rest.

As I picked up the flyer I stared at the words emblazoned on it. They were printed in brilliant yellow lettering, outlined with black.

“What the hell is this?” I wasn’t sure what I was looking at.

FAE BRETHREN OF SEATTLE

THE TUATHAN BROTHERHOOD NEEDS YOU!

Tired of catering to shifters and humans? Do you long for the days when our great cities spread across a nation rather than a few thousand acres? Tired of being “kept in line” by rules and regulations meant to benefit the mundanes of the world?

Join us, and take back the streets of Seattle. Drive out the filthy pelt-changers and head-blind humans, and reclaim this land for those who tended to it in the first place—the Fae.

UNITE NOW AND JOIN US! For information on joining the TUATHAN BROTHERHOOD, email: [email protected]

Herne shook his head. “I have no clue, at this point. But the flier was found at the scene of a nasty brawl. Three wolf shifters and two humans were beat up pretty bad outside the LaLeeq Nightclub last night. They were there, celebrating the fact that one of the shifters just got a big promotion at work. They were all a little tipsy—well, more than a little, they were plastered. They were standing outside the club, near an alley, waiting for a LUD.”

LUD stood for “Let-Us-Drive,” a rideshare company who had become the hit of Seattle, boasting excellent customer service and moderate prices. They catered to their customers and had practically put all the other rideshares and taxis out of business.

“Let me guess, they were jumped by some thugs from the alley?” It happened all too often, and always made me wonder why people thought they were safe in the middle of the night, standing near a dark alley. Especially when they were drunk.

“Oh, they were jumped, all right. By a gang of at least six or seven Fae. And they meant business. Two of the shifters are in serious condition, and the third is stable, but pretty bruised up. The humans are both in critical condition.” He shook his head. “The gang meant business. This wasn’t just a ‘rough them up’ session. And the only reason they stopped was because the LUD driver happened to pull in at that moment and he called the cops. He started honking his horn and the thugs ran.”

I stared at the flier, my mind whirling. “A Fae hate group? The Fae Courts hate each other, and they’re arrogant…well, we tend to be arrogant, and impulsive. But the Fae don’t usually expand their dislike to include humans or shifters. And right now, both Courts are working as a unified front because of the Fomorians and the Cryptozoid Association.”

Recently, the United Coalition that ruled the country had welcomed in a fifth group. Now, instead of the four groups that normally governed the country in joint agreement—the Human League, the Fae Courts, the Shifter Alliance, and the Vampire Nation—the United Coalition had five governing groups.

“I know. It boggles the mind,” Herne said.

“Have you talked to Cernunnos?” Viktor asked.

Cernunnos was Herne’s father, and he was Lord of the Forest. Herne was Lord of the Hunt. Cernunnos and Morgana—a goddess of Fae, and Herne’s mother—were responsible for the Wild Hunt Agency. Our primary mission was to keep the animosity from between the Light and the Dark Fae from spilling over into the human community. My people, like it or not, scored low on impulse control. The Courts had waged war against one another since time began.

As for me, neither side liked admitting I even existed. I was half Light, half Dark, and my parents had paid the ultimate price for their love. The distinction between the two Courts was a misnomer. Neither side was either fully good or bad—both Light and Dark Fae were about evenly matched as far as morality—or amorality—went. But as for a hate group? I had never seen them go this far.

“I talked to my father this morning before I came to work. He and Mother want us to look into this immediately. It’s a code red situation, because this could go very bad, very fast. We need to talk to Saílle and Névé as soon as possible. I put in a call and am waiting for both sides to get back to me.” Herne paused, leaning back.

“Is this localized, I hope?” Talia asked.

Herne stared at the flier, then a dark cloud passed over his face and he crumpled it into a ball and threw it in the garbage can. “That, I’m also waiting on. I have calls to the other agencies around the world to see if any of them have heard any rumors about this, or if they’re having problems, too. So far, this is the only blip that’s crossed my radar, so I’m hoping it’s a small group of nutjobs trying to get some attention.”

The Wild Hunt was monitored by Cernunnos and Morgana, but other variants of our agency existed throughout the world. There was Odin’s Chase in Norway, Mielikki’s Arrow in Finland. Diana’s Hounds watched over Italy, and Artemis’s Huntresses—Greece. I wasn’t sure how many more there were, but all of them worked the way we did, and all were loosely grouped together under a governing cloud of gods from the various pantheons.

“Are we sure there’s a connection between the flier and the thugs? Could the flyer have been there before the assault?” Talia asked.

Viktor frowned. “That seems like it would be an unlikely coincidence.”

“Yes, it would be, but coincidence does happen and we can’t discount the possibility.” Talia turned to Yutani. “Can you find anything on this Tuathan Brotherhood?”

“Already on it,” Yutani muttered, tapping away at the keys. “I’m drawing a blank so far, but let me keep digging. They could be a new organization, or they could just have their info buried so deeply that it’s hard to find. It might be part of the Dark Web.”

“That’s a scary thought,” Talia said.

“What’s the Dark Web?” I asked.

Yutani looked up from his keyboard. “You’ve heard of the sites where unlicensed guns are sold, and illegal drugs, and far worse things, like human trafficking?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Those are primarily found on the Dark Web. You have to download a specific tool in order to access it, and it’s a dangerous place to delve. But hate groups? I can see them using the Dark Web.” He frowned, shaking his head. “I’ll search for them on my other laptop—I keep one that’s locked down to the point of being the armored tank of computers. We never want anybody headquartered on the Dark Web to know we’re looking for them.”

“Thanks,” Herne said. “Let me know if you find out anything. Maybe shoot them an email from there, too? From a hidden account? Express interest, see what you can find out.”

“Will do, if I can find an opening.” Yutani pushed the laptop away. “Though most hate groups tend to be pretty vocal about their activities.”

“I dunno. They may claim responsibility for attacks, but you won’t find them planning them out in the open, or a convenient address to send the SWAT team to.” Viktor turned to Herne. “Want me to ask Erica at the station if she knows anything about the group? If they’ve struck before, or if anybody has reported their propaganda before now?”

Erica was Viktor’s source for information at the police station. Most of the police worked under the jurisdiction of the Fae by this point, and sometimes matters were skewed to the Fae Queens’ advantage.

“Good idea,” Herne said. “Meanwhile, we have to keep a close eye on the response to this. It’s bound to stir some blowback.” He let out a loud sigh. “Some days, I hate coming to work. Especially when it involves crap like this.”

“Anything else?” Angel asked. “You have an appointment with Curnzey Duggath at nine. He’s coming in to talk to you about his bill.”

Herne wiped his hand across his face as he stood up. “Spare me from cheapskates. So that’s why you were talking about Ginty when I arrived.” He pointed to the fliers. “Keep one of those for research, each of you, but keep them out of sight. They are in no way, shape, or form, to be seen by anybody outside of this room. I mean it. My mother was appalled, by the way. She wants this nipped in the bud as of yesterday, which means we’d better find out who’s behind it.”

As everybody headed toward their private offices, I tapped him on the shoulder. “Do you need me there when Curnzey comes in?”

“Nope. I’ll deal with him myself and spare you his angst.”

“Thanks.” I started for my office, then paused, glancing over my shoulder. “Do you mind if we reschedule tonight? Angel and I want to stop by a hamburger joint on the way home. They make lime milkshakes and pizza burgers.”

Herne grimaced. “That sounds terrible. At least the milkshake.” He didn’t care for citrus-flavored desserts.

“To you, maybe, but it’s an annual tradition for us. And tonight’s the season premiere of Rudding Place Northwest. I thought you might want to skip the invitation to watch it with us.”

“What’s that?” Herne frowned, staring at me.

“A period drama set at the turn of the twentieth century. It’s basically an historical soap opera set in 1915, around a woman—Emma Smyth—who’s struggling to make it as a dressmaker after her husband dies. Most of his assets go to his brother, leaving her without a penny. The brother’s a cad and offers to set her up as his mistress, but she refuses, determined to make it on her own. We’ve gotten hooked on it.”

Herne coughed, smiling as he covered his mouth. “You thought right. Of course we can reschedule. I’ve got plenty of chores I need to get done at home. Enjoy your soap and your lime shake.” With a shudder, he went into his office and closed the door.

As I entered my office, a glint of sunlight peeked through the window. The room was small but cozy, and the window looked out into First Avenue, the street where the Wild Hunt Agency was located. Against the wall the window was located on was a second desk. On my left stood a filing cabinet and a bookshelf, flanked by an oversized armchair. To the right was my desk, with both a desktop and my office laptop.

I had painted the room sage, and added green velvet curtains that I could close when we were working late into the night and the blinds felt too stark. I had also added a vase of fresh flowers, and Herne brought me new ones every week. Several pictures by Diago—a shifter artist who had a way with a camera and cats—brightened the walls. The portraits were beautiful and haunting, and the cats looked almost luminous.

Viktor and Yutani teased me about being a “cat lady,” but I just ignored the good-natured ribbing. I had one cat, and he was my buddy. Mr. Rumblebutt was a Norwegian Forest cat with silky black fur, and a purr that you could hear across the room. He had adopted Angel when she moved in, and he kept both of us in line.

I sat my things on my desk and opened the blinds, letting the light pour through the glass. Sunshine was a rarity in Seattle, and I enjoyed it when we had it. As I glanced down at the street, I noticed a man approaching the building. Oh hell, it was Ray Fontaine, my ex-boyfriend—now stalker. He was in a wheelchair, staring up at the building. There was an access ramp he could use around the back of the building, but I didn’t think he knew that.

I darted out to the reception area.

“What’s up?” Angel asked from the front desk, where she was getting organized for the day.

“Ray Fontaine, outside in a wheelchair,” I mouthed. I didn’t want to tell Herne for fear he might just put Ray back into the hospital.

“Cripes. Want me to come with you?” Angel asked.

I nodded. “Please.”

As we waited for the elevator, which opened directly into the office reception area, I rubbed my head.

Ray had gotten hooked on me thanks to my Fae glamour, a fact I hadn’t realized until a month ago. Then he’d stalked me till Herne was ready to put him on ice. Finally, in a misguided attempt to warn him off, I had confronted him in a parking lot where he ended up on the wrong side of a distracted driver. He’d been lucky he hadn’t been killed. After talking to my mentor, she had cast a spell to neutralize the effect my glamour had on him. I hadn’t seen him since then.

“At least I’ll find out whether the spell worked,” I said to Angel as we headed out the front door.

“Ten to one, he’s still an asshole. You might end the stalkerish behavior with magic, but nothing can fix stupid or mean.”

I motioned for her to wait as I dashed down the front steps to where he was waiting, glaring up at the building.

“Nice accommodation policy, Kearney.” He glared at me.

“What do you want, Ray?” I hoped to hell he wouldn’t start spouting off about being in love with me again. Please, please, let Marilee’s spell work, I thought.

“Not much from you, bitch. You thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?” He leaned forward. He seemed to be out of his casts, but I had the feeling it would be awhile before he was up and walking again. The driver had almost killed him, she’d been so wrapped up with her cell phone.

I rubbed my forehead. That wasn’t exactly the greeting of a love-struck suitor. “Just what are you talking about?”

“Oh come off it, Ember. You know very well what I’m talking about. Don’t play innocent with me, because in no way are you innocent of anything.” The expression on his face was dark enough to shadow the sunlight.

I let out a long sigh. “I don’t have time to play games, Ray. Tell me what you’re talking about or get the fuck out of here.”

He sputtered, grabbing the arms of his wheelchair as he leaned forward.

“You know! You know! How you trapped me and then blamed me for being a stalker! You bitch. You really like your head games, don’t you? Well, I’m not your sucker anymore. In fact, you better watch your step because you just made yourself one hell of an enemy.” His eyes flashed, and his voice held a veiled threat.

I leaned back against the stone railing that bordered the stairs. “Are you talking about my Fae glamour?”

“What the fuck did you think I was talking about? You put me under a spell, then jerked my heart around. Now, you’re bored so you set me free after mowing me down in a parking lot?” He was shouting, loud enough to be heard by the handful of streeps—the street people—who were hanging out, hoping against rain.

I narrowed my eyes. “You listen to me, Ray Fontaine. I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t even realize that I have a Fae glamour. I don’t know how you found out about it, but yes, I had a friend cast a counterspell, just in case you had been caught up by it. Apparently, you were, but what’s also apparent is that you’re an asshole either way.”

He tried to stand, but then fell back in his seat. “Wait till I’m out of this chair. I’ll teach you what it’s like to be a puppet. Oh, and if you sic your watchdog fuck-toy on me, tell him that I’ll call the cops and have him busted. I don’t care if he’s a god or not.”

That was it. I’d had enough.

“Go ahead and do that! I’ll prosecute you for stalking me. I felt sorry for you, thinking my glamour spurred it on, but now, I see no matter what, you’re just a jerk who’s looking for a fight.” I turned, stomping up the stairs.

“Ember, get the fuck back here and talk to me!” Ray bellowed.

I spun around and held out my arm. “Talk to the hand, dude. Because I’m not listening.” Before he could say another word, I slammed through the front door, followed by Angel, leaving Ray on the front walk screaming as he cursed me out soundly.

***

Back inside, I said to Angel, “I wish the driver had broken his jaw when she hit him, so he couldn’t speak.”

“He’s just pissed, I guess. But how did he find out? Who told him? Marilee wouldn’t, would she?” Angel’s forehead creased as she followed me to my office, peeking out the window to see if he was still there. I glanced over her shoulder.

Ray was wheeling himself into a van, so I guessed that he had either bought or rented an accessible vehicle. As the van pulled away from the curb, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“It was bad enough dealing with him when he was obsessed with me. Dealing with him now that he hates me is going to be a nightmare.”

“Maybe he’s got it out of his system and will just stay away.” Angel glanced at me, a hopeful look on her face. “Mind you, I realize that’s not exactly how these things work, but there’s always hope.”

“Yeah, well, at least he’s not mobile enough to chase me down the street.” I shook my head and turned back to my desk. “Herne said no problem on rescheduling, so we’re on for tonight.”

“Rafé’s busy too, so I’m good.” She paused. “What do you think about the whole hate group thing?” Her voice quivered. “I don’t mind telling you, it makes me nervous. I see enough of that aimed at people my color. I know that the Fae and shifters have been targets as well. But now…”

I stared at the flier. “I don’t know what to think. It doesn’t make sense. Even though I’ve seen disdain for humans and shifters from the Fae, I’ve never seen or heard outright hatred. The Dark and Light Courts are too busy hating each other. A hate group from one Court against the other? That would make sense.”

“There’s a lot of hidden prejudice, Ember. I can believe it exists, to be honest. Sometimes all you have to do is look under the nearest rock for it. I guess we’ll find out when Yutani finishes his searching. Better him than me. The Dark Web?” She shivered. “That’s another place that I sure wouldn’t want to hang out.”

A sudden burst of cursing hit the air as Herne’s door to his office opened and Curnzey Duggath came storming out, waving his fists. “You’re a cheat, Master Herne! You’re a cur! You and your whole agency will be the death of my wallet. It’s robbery, that’s what it is, and I’m going to tell all of my friends what a thief and a scoundrel you are!”

Herne’s eyes were narrowed. “You go right ahead, Duggath, and see how far it gets you next time there’s a goblin rustling your sheep. You hired us for the job and we did it, and we managed to find two of your sheep for you before they were slaughtered. You just can’t stand paying a good wage for a good job. You and your father have always been the cheapest bastards on the planet.” Herne held his hand out in front of him, palm facing his face, and jerked it up in the time-honored expression that basically meant, at least among the dwarves, “Fuck you.”

“Ach, what are you doing, insulting my family? Herne, I would challenge you here and now if this weren’t a place of business with womenfolk watching. But lad, is this the way you treat your loyal customers?”

“What are they doing? Are we going to see an actual fistfight?” Angel whispered to me.

I turned to Angel, suppressing a grin. “No, just watch. Herne knows what he’s doing.”

“Loyalty? You know nothing of the sort. You agree to pay a set-upon price, and then renege after we do an excellent job! Did we, or did we not, stop that piece of shit sheep rustler?” Herne crossed his arms, planting his feet firmly on the floor.

Curnzey let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, yes, there I can’t fault you.”

“And did we, or did we not, round up the two missing sheep that were still alive?”

“I cannot deny that you did that as well,” the dwarf said, frowning.

“And did you not sign the contract to seal the deal?” Herne leaned forward, glaring at Curnzey.

Finally, after a long pause, Curnzey relented.

“Aye, I did. But you charge too much! Never let it be said the Duggaths don’t pay their debts. But next time, son of Cernunnos, I expect a discount. Mind you, you’d better not raise your rates on me.” Curnzey turned to Angel. “Come along, lass, and I’ll settle up with you.” He glanced back at Herne. “You’re a cagey one, Lord of the Hunt. I’ve got my eye on you.”

And with that, Herne held out his hand and Curnzey stared at it for a moment, then gave him a hearty handclasp.

“Good doing business with you, Duggath. Tell your wife I send my regards.”

“She’ll be happy enough to have the mutton back where it belongs. Next time you’re out our way, drop in and have a cup of tea. Aletha makes the most excellent gingersnaps.” And with that, Curnzey followed Angel to the reception desk to settle his account.

Herne snorted, then held out his arm. I slipped into the offered embrace, and he snuggled me close to him. “Come on.” He led me into his office and shut the door behind us.

“One of these days, I’d like to skip the testosterone battle, but what can I say? That’s the Duggaths for you. They keep their wallets close.”

“What would happen if you refused to play the game?”

Herne shrugged. “He’d probably take offense and refuse to pay me at all. Or maybe he’d actually try to call me out, though that would be a stupid move, considering I’m a god and he’s mortal, dwarf though he may be.” He leaned down and nuzzled my neck, trailing light kisses on the skin. “Mmm, it’s been too long.”

I grinned as he began to slide his hands along my back, toward my butt. “Two days, lover boy. Two days. Granted, I could go for a quickie, but we have too much to do today, given this new situation. So you’re going to have to wait till tomorrow night, unless you want to come by and watch the show with us, and stay the night.”

Herne’s lips were buried in my neck, and in a muffled voice he said, “You make me so hard. I go crazy thinking about fucking you.”

I caught my breath, swept up in his desire. One thing I had learned over the past six months: having a god for a boyfriend meant a never-ending smorgasbord of carnal delights. The sex was great, and unlike most mortals, his stamina was amazing. In fact, sometimes it was too much and I’d have to beg off because I was a wee bit too sore to play.

“When?” he whispered.

“Tomorrow night. I’ll come to your place. I think Rafé’s coming over and he and Angel will want some privacy.” Before I pulled away, I grabbed his chin, bringing his lips to mine, and kissed him so deep that I almost came right there. We came up for air when someone knocked on the door.

“There. That will have to keep you,” I said.

“Damn. Well, that will have to do. Wait till I sit down to open the door,” he added, grinning as he headed for his desk, his all too obvious arousal pressing against the front of his jeans.

I laughed, then opened the door as soon as he sat down. At least we women didn’t have to worry about our arousal showing so obviously.

Angel peeked in, glancing at Herne, then at me. “Sorry to interrupt, guys, but I have a prospective client out here who I think you should talk to.”

“We’re full on cases right now—” Herne started to say, but Angel shook her head.

“Please, hear her out. I think we may want to take this one,” she said. “I have a feeling about it.”

That was all she had to say. Angel was human, but she was an incredible empath and we trusted her hunches.

“Show her in, then.” Herne cleared his throat and took a swig of water from the bottle on his desk as Angel ushered a thin, wiry woman into the room.

“Herne, meet Amanda Skellig. Her daughter is missing.”

Right away, I could tell she was a wolf shifter—the pheromones left nothing to the imagination. And right now she was desperate and afraid. A wave of emotion filled the room as she approached the desk. For a moment she stood, wringing her hands, and then she collapsed into one of the chairs in front of Herne’s desk, sobbing.

“Please, please…I need you to find my daughter. She’s been abducted.”

Hearing the pain infused in her voice, I knew we’d be taking the case.