Blood Kin (16 page)

“It’s not your shirt that’s been sacrificed for a cause,” Niko grumbled. He walked over to the blackout curtain. “It doesn’t feel like night.” He raised the curtain on the standard Vancouver late afternoon—overcast and an unmitigated gray. Pulling open the overcurtains, he fastened them with the ties. “The sheers are enough,” he said. “It’s dark enough with the overcast. Are you all going out now?”

“Yes, I don’t want to lose any more time,” I said. “Damn. I can’t go with you unless you wait until later. When is sunset?”

“A couple of hours at least,” I said. “It’s pretty dark out, though. Sure you can’t—”

“No, can’t risk it. The weather’s too unpredictable. I was just hoping …”

I looked at him staring at the pieces of cloth. “The magick,” he said. “It’s fascinating, though still a bit unsettling.”

“Unsettling?” I stood up and handed my strips of cloth to Rhys.

“In my youth, magick was feared; the work of the devil.”

I laughed. “No devils here. Just energies harnessed in a way not known to humans.”

“Do you think it’s a Sidhe—the dark man? Could
it be?” Niko’s voice, though strong, still held a note of something not right.

I explained what Dad had said. “I hope I don’t end up like Aurora,” I said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Though I don’t plan on trying out any spinning wheels anytime soon, even if a dark faery curses me.”

“Come again?”

“ ‘Sleeping Beauty’?” I looked at Niko. “I don’t suppose you read many children’s tales in the last couple of centuries.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, “I do recognize the spinning wheel allusion, but don’t recall the princess being named Aurora. I don’t think we knew of a name.”

“Figures,” I muttered. “Don’t name the women in a story.”

Rhys laughed. “I doubt that our fearless leader plans to ignore or slight anyone, Keira,” he said. “Much less take the piss from a bunch of Sidhe. Plus, I don’t really think they can curse anyone.”

“No,” I said. “Leave that to our own family. Sidhe just steal children and take lives.” And vanish into thin air, I didn’t say aloud.

A
S WE CLIMBED
the steep hill toward West Pender, the near quiet of the early evening was broken by a loud buzz that got clearer as we got closer to the park. A crowd was gathering, people coming from all directions making their way toward Victory Square, the same place we’d been the night before, only this time, instead of a vigil, we saw a gathering that looked more like it belonged here. Bands and small music festivals often congregated in the park, like wee Woodstocks, complete with drugs, sex and loads of rock’n’roll. Except a lot of these people looked more like the type who listened to bagpipes and bodhráns rather than amplified electric guitars and headbanging drummers. If I didn’t know any better, it could even be a Clan gathering. The difference was that none of these folks had any more magick than could be found in a well-sung song. No Clan members here, other than three Kellys and a vampire.

The folk music festival had started.

We’d each taken a strip of the magic-infused cloth and tied it around a wrist. According to my brothers, the scent of the fabric, enhanced by the spell, should help us in tracking Daffyd. We’d set out toward the park, figuring that if old Les had seen one Sidhe here, there might well be another.

Tucker and Niko slowed, waiting for Rhys and me
to catch up. We’d waited until dusk after all, figuring Niko would be more help with us than hanging out at the condo.

“Listen,” Tucker said sotto voce. “Something’s going on.”

I closed my eyes a moment to focus on the sounds. The general crowd buzz faded as I concentrated. Snippets of conversation began to come clear.

“Did you hear …”

“… they found … at the hostel.”

“Did anyone tell Rodney?”

“John’s over there, maybe Rodney’s with him. Wasn’t he their friend?”

“Found him in one of the rooms …”

The sounds began to fade, an almost doppler-like effect morphing into the drip, drip, plink of a leaky faucet.

The tiny room was too dark; its only window covered by a threadbare Hudson Bay blanket—a dingy cream, striped in red, yellow and blue—held up by a ragged rope wound around a couple of large nails. A small graying mattress topped by yellow and green sheets and a ragged flat pillow held the body of a thin, older man. Bushy salt-and-pepper hair framed his ascetic face. A neatly trimmed beard completed the picture. His eyes were closed in death; the expression on his face serene, as if he’d finally found peace. There were no marks on the body. His torn, but clean clothes showed no signs of blood, or any evidence that he was dead by foul play. Yet something was off here. Something wasn’t quite right. It’s a good thing they called me in. I need to get back to the sergeant and figure this out. Only …

“Keira?”

I opened my eyes.

“You still with us, sis?” Rhys poked me in the side and cocked his head, a worried look on his face.

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked around. Most of the crowd had moved on down the street, and the four of us stood in the middle of the sidewalk about six meters from the corner.

“You were out of it for a few minutes, sis,” Tucker said quietly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I think—weird.” I looked around and saw a couple of sidewalk benches about halfway up the block. “I think I need to sit down a minute.”

I didn’t say anything until I reached the bench and slumped onto it. What the hell had that been? It wasn’t like the visions I’d had before, more like I’d been watching a really vivid TV show.

Tucker sat next to me and grabbed my hand. I let him do it, even though I was still a little freaked and wasn’t sure how strong my shields were. He was pretty tightly shielded, so I let myself relax.

“I kind of saw something,” I began.

“A vision?” Tucker asked, concern coloring his voice.

“Sort of.” I explained what I’d seen and how it was different. “All I could think was that I needed to get back and report this. Weird thing is, I’m not touching anyone. Not smelling anything peculiar—those two things were what triggered visions before.”

“Things could be different now,” Niko said. He stepped closer and sat on my left side, leaning in so he could speak in a lower tone. “Do you think it’s what those people were talking about?”

“Could be. Old dead guy in a grungy room. Could’ve been a hostel.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Closest thing to roughing it I ever did was to stay at a Days Inn one time in midtown Manhattan.”

“Really?” Niko sounded surprised.

“Don’t forget,
cariad
,” said Tucker, “Keira’s young and rather spoiled. In all her traveling, I bet our dear matriarch, or perhaps even our dear papa, spared no expense.”

I smacked my brother’s arm. “Spoiled, my ass. You both know very well that the Kellys own a metric ton of houses all over the place. I stay in them on the cheap and don’t stay in hotels. Besides, the idea of trying to stay in a hostel among a bunch of humans—you couldn’t ever relax. Of course I stayed in nice places.”

“Exactly.” He grinned at me, and then looked up at Rhys. “Wouldn’t you say she’s spoiled?”

Rhys grinned back. “Leave me out of this one, brother. I pass no judgments on someone who’ll soon be able to hex me into next week.”

I stuck my tongue out at the both of them. “Take advantage all you want now, boys, while I still don’t know how. I
will
learn, though.”

“All kidding aside, Keira,” Tucker said, “you’re okay, right?”

At his words, I took a deep breath and did a quick check of myself. This was a technique that Aunt Jane had taught me years ago, but I’d grown out of the habit of using. I hadn’t needed it until a couple of days ago. Tucker had reminded me of it when we’d come back from our first outing as wolves. It’s kind of an internal awareness systems check—high level to be sure, but it was a quick way to see if anything felt off.

“I’m good,” I replied. “Not woozy, dizzy or even faintly light-headed. I guess I tuned in to some local cop somehow.”

“Hmm,” Tucker looked me over once more. “I’d feel less worried if you’d tuned in to one of us. That would be
a natural extension of Kelly Talent. This, I’m not so sure about.”

“I’m fine, Tucker,” I said. “Can we concentrate on what we’re doing for now? We can ask Isabel about this when we see her.” He didn’t say anything, just kept looking at me.

“Do you think it was the friend Les was talking about? The guy you saw in your vision?” Rhys asked.

“Maybe,” I said. “I have no idea. I got the feeling though, from what Les said, that he and his buddy were in some sort of shelter-like place, with a row of beds. This looked like a single room—really tiny, but individual.”

“Hmm,” Tucker mused as he studied me. He placed a broad hand on my forehead, like a parent checking a child for a fever. I tried to bat his hand away, but he wouldn’t let me. No sense in trying to out-strength my brother, so I put up with it.

“What are you doing?” “Shhh, let me …” Tucker closed his eyes, and began to hum something that sounded vaguely familiar. I began to relax, the quiet melody weaving its way into my consciousness, then soothing me, much like a meditation CD I’d once had. My breaths became deeper. My thoughts began to drift … music, sunshine, a tiny room holding the songs that mattered. The sound of so sharp, so clear a note that one could cut one’s soul on it. A wind instrument, shiny silver flute holding the melody, slowly wending its way inside, touching that part of us that we’d thought dead, lost forever in the morass of guilt and shame that was our past. Tears forced themselves past my closed lids, carrying with them every moment of regret; washing away my plethora of sins—both real and imagined. I gasped at the perfect beauty and died.

With a start, I came back to myself and wrenched away
from Tucker’s hold, standing and stepping away from the group.

“What in all the bloody hells was that?” I demanded.

My heart still pounded with an adrenaline response that I couldn’t control. “I just died, Tucker … or rather, I was … I felt …” The rest of the words failed to come. I had no idea how to explain what I’d experienced. Unlike my visions before, unlike the one where I was the cop, this was living and breathing and feeling another person. Knowing his history, his sins, peccadilloes and a lifetime of ugly self-recrimination that colored his world. Becoming someone else for the space of—how long was that anyway?

Tucker stood and approached me, hands held out in a peaceful gesture. “Damn, Keira, I’m sorry. Isabel showed me how to do that before she left. It was supposed to be a way to relax you, to help you remember. I was only—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said. “Only trying to help.” I waved him off as he stepped closer. I wasn’t sure I could deal with him touching me right now. A buzzing sound morphed into the electronic strains of “Don’t Fear the Reaper.” I shot a look at Rhys.

“I had to,” he said, not even trying to feign innocence.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he’d reprogrammed my ringtone with the Blue Öyster Cult song. Typical. I pulled the phone out and saw it was Adam calling.

“Hey there,” I answered. “Where—” “Miss Keira.” The voice on the other end was not Adam’s. “This is Lance. Mr. Adam asked me to ring you and let you know he got your voice mail and that he will touch base with you soon.” His formal tone was at odds with the Lance I knew in person.

“He did what?” I asked, stunned at Lance’s words.
“He couldn’t be bothered to call me himself?” A week or two ago, I would not have been fazed by this, since our relationship had become so strained. But all that had changed … hadn’t it? True, we’d only had a couple of nights together to mend fences, but I’d thought we’d more than patched things up.

“My apologies, Miss Keira,” Lance said. “I neglected to explain. Mr. Adam has had to leave on travel. He is out of pocket right now, but will contact you soon.”

“Leave? Where?” I looked over at Niko, who, like Tucker and Rhys, was listening in to both ends of the conversation. All three men looked as stunned as I felt.

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I wasn’t told.”

“When did he go?”

“A few hours ago,” he said. “He did say to tell you that he’d speak with you soon.”

“Yes, well.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was obvious Lance either knew nothing or had been instructed to pretend so. I voted for the former. Adam didn’t seem the type to confide in a secretary/assistant—at least not in the case of a situation where he didn’t tell Niko first. Niko was his right hand. Yet he’d let Niko come with us to Canada. Would he have done that if something was seriously wrong? Maybe something had come up suddenly?

“Did you need anything else, Miss Keira?” Lance asked.

“I guess not,” I said.

“Thank you, then.” Lance disconnected the call. I shut the phone. “Niko?”

“I am as in the dark as you are,” Niko said. “He said nothing to me.”

“He doesn’t do this type of thing on a whim, does he?”

“Travel?” He paused, as if thinking. “Unlikely. He
doesn’t particularly enjoy traveling. Especially as it’s difficult for us to do so with our restrictions. We have to charter a plane.”

“Or own one,” I said absently. “Adam doesn’t own a plane?”

“Not locally,” he said. “He’s got several in the EU.”

“Then I really don’t get this,” I said. “Why would he just up and leave, especially if you’re not there to cover for him?”

Niko rubbed his eyebrow with a thumb. “I don’t know and I’m afraid this doesn’t bode well. Perhaps word of his recent … incapacitation … got out and he’s had to go take care of things.”

“Take care of—what things? With whom? I thought you all didn’t have any sort of ruling body or council; that your tribes are all independent.”

“They are, Keira. Adam rules our tribe, but it’s pretty large.” Niko hesitated a moment as he looked around us. “Perhaps we should talk about this in a less public space.”

The streets weren’t crowded by any means, but there was a fair amount of pedestrian traffic enjoying a temporary respite from the all-day rain.

“How about we go over there?” I pointed to an area set back from the main walk, with a couple of benches, set off to the side of an office building. A small path led there, but since it didn’t look as if it connected to anywhere but the benches, no one was walking on it. The area was probably used by workers during lunch hour or something.