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Authors: MARIA LIMA

BOOK: Blood Kin
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“Our pilot, I presume?” I cut in before this turned into a “whose pelt is prettier” argument.

“The one and only,” she replied.

“So, Liz Norton Kelly,” I said, “why the delay in coming to get us?”

“Weather, primarily. Couple of storms brewing north of the enclave. Then some sort of powwow or something.” She fluttered her fingers dismissively. “I was in Vancouver for most of it, but Gigi told me to hang tight.”

“Powwow? You know who?”

“Nope,” she said. “Bunch of people in and out of there over the past week or so, but I didn’t recognize any of them. Not that I would. I try to stay out of the politics.”

“Probably safest.” Tucker gave her a huge smile and opened his arms. “C’mere, you.”

Liz merrily pounced on my brother, who enveloped her in a bear hug. She planted a huge kiss on my brother’s smiling face. “It’s definitely been too long, Cousin Wolf.”

Tucker stepped back and patted her head, dropping a kiss on her hair. “That it has, Cousin Hound. How’s the piloting biz?”

Liz laughed.
“Comme ci, comme ça, ”
she answered. “Haven’t had too many stunt piloting gigs lately.”

“Stunt piloting?” I asked.

“Lots of movie studios up my way,” Liz said. “I hire out to do stunt work sometimes. These days, though, I’m more or less our dear matriarch’s beck-and-call girl.”

“Aren’t we all?” I mumbled. “Well, c’mon, then, children. If we’re to do this thing, it best be done now.”

“In a hurry, dear sister?” Tucker teased.

I climbed up the steps to the plane. “I just want to get this over with.”

“Homeward bound, then,” Liz said.

“To hell, more likely,” I remarked as I ducked inside and tossed my backpack on a seat.

Tucker laughed as he and Niko followed me on board. Daffyd, still silent, brought up the rear.

Yeah, this was going to be a fun trip … not.

“A
RE WE
there yet?”

I rolled my head against the back of the plush leather, trying to ditch the sarcasm, but failing. I really didn’t do boredom well. Whatever had possessed me to leave without packing a book or three? I suppose that I’d expected to pass the flight time talking to my brother and Niko.

I’d spent the last couple of hours alternately napping in my too-luxurious seat and trying to avoid staring at my brother and Niko canoodling directly across from me—well, not exactly canoodling. They were just sitting together and talking quietly; every once in a while, they’d share an easy touch, head lean, or just a simple smile between the
two of them. It further demonstrated to me how much those two belonged together.

Daffyd sat in the back of the plane, quietly reading. It was as if he planned to be as much in the background as possible. I should probably use this time to talk to him, find out as much as I could about my mother, about that side of my family, but frankly, I didn’t want to. There’d be enough time for that later. All I really wanted was to get this trip over with.

And there was a good possibility this was not the best time to chat with my faery cousin. He might be somewhat uncomfortable surrounded by all this steel. Steel is, of course, an alloy consisting mostly of iron. Iron and Sidhe were not a good mix. Luckily, because our family had been known to entertain the fey from time to time, most of our planes were coated inside with a special treatment; the chemistry was something that eluded me, but I knew it was brewed with a hefty dollop of magick. Faery folk could ride in the plane, but the ride would still be less than relaxing.

“Grumpy?” Tucker gave me a smirk.

“Just bored.” I sighed.

“Any word from Isabel before we left?”

“Nothing. I tried calling a couple of times, but no answer. Couldn’t get in touch with Gigi, either. Maybe she’s too busy powwowing to pick up. Wonder what that’s all about?”

“Who knows?” Tucker said with a lazy stretch. “I imagine if it involves you in any way, she’ll be letting us know.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered, then swung my feet up onto the seat and tucked them under me, reclining onto the comfortable arm. It had been so long since I’d
last flown Air Kelly, I’d forgotten how incredibly luxurious it was to have a well-appointed aircraft all to oneself and carefully selected others. Liz was holed up in the cockpit, doing whatever she did to make the plane go.

“And your … Gideon, was it?” Niko said. “He is stable?”

I nodded and tried to hide my expression by taking a swig from my water bottle. Not mine. Not for a long time. “Stable enough,” I replied and took another swig. “Isabel said she’d call if there was a change. No call means no change. I just wish I knew why the delay. First Isabel tells me that Gigi pulled her away from her trip—something done only in an emergency situation in our book—and had her come to Texas to fetch me
tout de suite
… then all sense of urgency disappears? Still bothers me. What if it’s all some sort of trickery on her part to get me there and keep me?”

Tucker scooted forward and patted my knee. “It’s not a trick, Keira,” he said. “You know Isabel wouldn’t do that.”

“I wasn’t talking about Isabel, bro—”

“Might I ask something?” Niko interrupted.

“Shoot,” I said.

“You both”—he inclined his head at Tucker then nodded toward me—“have been attempting to phone your Clan leader over and over in the last few days. You, Keira, seem to be worried that things are not as they seem and there is some urgency on your part to contact her. I’m not sure I understand why. Surely she is not so vicious and cruel that you fear her?”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take him seriously. “She’s not exactly the type to send the flying monkeys out after us,” I said, continuing Liz’s earlier analogy. “Not the Wicked Witch of the West, East or anywhere in between.”
More like a really dainty dominatrix, my mind supplied. I shook off the unbidden imagery and continued. “She’s strict, strong and very much used to getting her way,” I said. I thought about it for a second, trying to formulate the words. “I think it’s more that I tend to turn into a twelve-year-old girl around her,” I continued. “She triggers all my guilt responses better than a Jewish mother at a bat mitzvah.”

“You feel that her summons on the heels of your transformation followed by an inexplicable delay might have something to do with you?”

“Yeah,” I said, reluctantly realizing as Niko spoke just how self-centered I’d been. “You know, Niko, you may have a point. I—we all—have been operating on the supposition that the delay had to do with me or Gideon. I tend to forget that my great-great-grandmother runs several multinational businesses and pretty much has the welfare and well-being of thousands of Clan members as her responsibility.”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was—”

“Hey, kids, we’re getting close to YVR.” Liz’s voice came over the speaker. “Buckle up and get your passports out. We should be pulling up to the customs station in about thirty minutes.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“P
ASSPORTS AND PAPERWORK
, please,” the customs agent asked. We’d landed on the appropriate runway and taxied over to the designated customs location. I hadn’t been sure how this worked, having flown commercially for so long. It seemed fairly simple. Since Liz flew back and forth regularly, she was a member of CAN-PASS, a program for frequent flyers. She’d phoned ahead, gotten her instructions and now all we needed to do was wait until the customs agent reviewed our paperwork and passports. Easy as frozen pie in a microwave.

“How’s it going, Ben?” Liz smiled at the agent and passed over a folder.

The tall dark-haired man smiled at my cousin. His blue eyes twinkled as he spoke. “Mighty fine, young Liz,” Ben replied with a wink. “More family?” He nodded to us and flipped through the folder that contained Liz’s papers and our passports.

“More?” Liz asked. She looked at me and I shrugged. How the hell should I know? I’d been in Texas for more than two years. I figured family came through Vancouver pretty regularly unless they were coming in from the east, where Toronto or Ontario would be a more logical customs checkpoint.

“Few of your folk came through here about a half hour ago,” Ben said.

“Anyone I know?” Liz asked with a puzzled look on her
face. “Didn’t realize any more family was heading home. I went down to Texas to pick up my cousins earlier today—quick turnaround.”

Agent Ben shook his head and made some notations on the papers. “Can’t say as I recognized them,” he said. “Kellys, though. Came in the blue plane. Had at least one guest aboard.” He handed Liz back some papers and then began stamping passports.

I shot a glance at Niko, who returned my questioning look with a serene bland one. I hadn’t paid attention earlier when Liz had collected our passports and wondered what nationality he was supposed to be.

As soon as we’d touched down, Daffyd had, as promised, woven a do-not-notice glamour on himself. To a human, there were only four people on that plane.

“Keira Kelly,” Ben the agent said and handed over my passport. “Welcome back to Canada, miss.”

I smiled and took back my passport, tucking it into my backpack.

“Mr. Kelly, Mr. Marlowe.”

“Marlowe?” I mouthed at Niko as he took his obviously Canadian passport from Ben.

Niko smirked and handed me the small red folder without saying a word.

As Ben stamped and returned Tucker’s passport, I looked at Niko’s.

“Nicholas Christofer Marlowe,” I read and rolled my eyes. “Date of birth/
date de naissance
: 1979/26/02. Place of birth/
lieu de naissance
: Canterbury, UK.” Oh great, delusions of poethood … or maybe he’d known the man himself and borrowed his name. I handed the passport back to Niko with another eye roll and a mouthed “please.” He winked and tucked the passport
into his jacket pocket. I had to give him props for amusement value, though.

“Everything’s in order then,” Ben said. “You can taxi down to the hangar.”

“Oh, we’re continuing on,” Liz said. “Need to get on up to the homestead.”

“Oh, dear,” Ben said. “ ’Fraid you’re going to have to change your plans, yeah?”

“What is it?” Liz asked. “Something wrong with the paperwork?”

“There’s been a front blowing in up north, grounded most light craft for at least several hours, probably overnight. Unless you’re in a hurry, I’d suggest staying in town tonight and then trying again in the morning.”

“We could stay at the condo,” I ventured. “Call Gigi and let her know.”

Liz shrugged. “If the storm’s big enough to ground a small jet,” she said, “Gigi’s probably well aware we’re grounded, but yeah.” She turned to Ben. “What’s the forecast? We expecting it here?”

He shook his head. “Don’t expect it to come this far south, but it’s stalled up in the mountains and not a good one to fly into. Stay in town a day or two if you’re not in a hurry. Do some shopping. Lots of sales on, I hear. My wife and the girls went up over to Robson Street last night and did a little damage to the pocketbook.” He scribbled some more on the flight plan and handed it back to Liz. “There you are, Liz. You know where to go from here, eh?”

She nodded and took the flight plan back, stashing it back in the folder. “Thanks, Ben,” she said. “Please give my regards to your wife for me, yeah?”

“Will do.” He started to turn away, but then stopped.
“Hey, before I forget. You know that restaurant you like? Irish Heather? Heard it reopened last night after being closed for a while.”

“Closed? They do great business and no way it was the health department. Why’d they shut down?” Liz asked

“Nothing to do with business. Some homeless guy was found dead in their old storefront.”

“Jiminy,” Liz said. “Poor Dan and Liss. They still own that old place, right?”

Ben thought a moment. “I believe they do,” he replied. “Hope this doesn’t hurt business.”

“Do you know what happened?” Liz asked.

“Not yet,” Ben said. “I know a couple of homeless folks have been found dead around there and up on West Hastings recently. They’re being treated as suspicious deaths.”

“Suspicious?” Tucker asked. “Something going on we should know about?”

Ben scratched his head. “I’m not so sure on my end, but I don’t know that much, really. Just what I read in the papers, see on the news. Possibly malnutrition and exposure are the cause, but I heard one of the officers talking this morning that it may be a drugs case. Stuff like that gets involved, you never know what kind of folk show up in town.” He shook his head and tucked his ballpoint pen into his shirt pocket. “Cheers, all.”

At Ben’s words, my jaw clenched. Great, suspicious deaths on the heels of arriving. Could it have anything to do with me or mine? Oh, dear powers that be, I certainly hoped not. Vancouver was a big city, right? Homeless people died all the time.

“Ta then, Ben, and thanks.” Liz stepped back inside and gave the man a wave as he descended the steps. She waited
until he was out of earshot before pulling up the stairs and shutting the door and turning to me.

“You okay?” she asked. “I could feel your tension even from outside.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I said and rotated my head down and around to loosen up my neck muscles. “Hearing about suspicious deaths so few days after—”

Tucker rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s a city, Keira,” he said. “This sort of thing happens all the time.”

“I know, I know,” I said. “I just …” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “Sorry, it’s not exactly the first thing I wanted to hear on arrival.”

“Not the first thing, actually,” Liz said.

I gave her a puzzled look.

“What about the weather?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” I said. “Damn. This just blows. I guess we’re stuck here.”

“Anyone want to try to call Gigi?” Tucker pulled his phone out and dangled it.

“I suppose I should try,” I said and grabbed my own cell out of my pack. “Liz, can you punch up weather forecasts or anything? See what you can find out?”

“Yeah, I’ll hit up satellite.” She went back into the cockpit.

Tucker settled back into his own seat, throwing an arm around Niko, who seemed relaxed. Daffyd, once again, said nothing. What could be going on in his head? I suppose that in the grand scheme of life, a day or two delay was small potatoes to those who’d already lived centuries. Not that I wasn’t okay with staying in Vancouver overnight. I loved this city as much as I loved London—plus, it didn’t have the taint of my experience with Gideon as did the latter city.

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