Winter (The Manhattan Exiles) (8 page)

He knew a thing or three about antique blades, and he
didn’t think it was likely the weapon had originated in some city consignment shop. He made the circuit anyway.

Four hours later he’d hit most of the usual spots without any luck. The air felt like snow. The shops were beginning to lock their doors
for the night.

He turned up his collar against the cold, stopping under a street lamp to make a phone call.

Katherine Grey answered on the second ring. “Healy. I was beginning to think I’d need to send a search party. You’ve been dodging my calls.”

Bran leaned against the lamp post. Tiny flakes of snow began to drift over the side walk.

“Not dodging, Katie. Just busy.”

“
A detective’s work is never finished, is that it? You know I start to worry when I haven’t heard from you.”

“
The kid’s just fine. He’s helping me with a case. You would have been the first to know if there was trouble.”

“
The second, I hope, as your duty is to Siobahn.”

“
Siobahn doesn’t hold my heart.”

She laughed, light and musical.
“When are you coming for a visit, Healy? It’s been too long.”

Bran eyed the snow with distaste.
“I’ll have some time in January. I hear Hawaii’s great this time of year. How about it?”

“
You know I can’t.” She sighed a little. “Tell me about the case. What’s the boy’s interest?”

“
Abduction and beheading. Winter thinks there’s blood magic involved, and it sure looks that way. Which is why I called.”

“
I don’t touch blood magic. Not anymore.”

He wondered if she was remembering the first time they met.

“The kid’s got it in hand. I need your help with something more mundane, Katie. Perp used a blade. A long, thin blade. Looks old and unusual. I’m not turning anything up in the usual places.”

“
You think I can identify it.”

“
Abduction took place in Yorktown, Virginia. But something about the blade and the ritual is telling me it’s more your province than mine.

“
Email a photo. I’ll look into it.”

“
Thanks.”

“
Of course.” Her warmth made the growing storm almost bearable. “Keep your eye on the boy.”

“
I’ll call you when he parts the fabric between worlds.” Bran shook his head, bemused. “And then you and I, we’ll go to that beach in Hawaii.”

“
No, my love,” Katherine Grey sounded wistful. “If Siobahn’s son breaks open the Way between your world and mine -
when
he does so
again
- you and I will find a pretty island far more distant than the Pacific Ocean.”

4
. Burglary

“At home you prefer bicycles?” Winter mimicked, dry. “That’s one I can’t quite imagine, Gloriana riding tandem with her latest lover.” He snorted. “Do you even know what one is?”

“
A lover or a bicycle?” Aine returned. “One is a plaything, the other a dubious means of transportation. Both are frivolous pleasures, as far as I can tell.”

“
Frivolous,” repeated Winter. “Your future suitors might disagree.”

Aine
felt herself color. “If you won’t send me home, perhaps
he
will. This Michael Smith.”

Winter arched one
singed brow, then winced. They sat together beneath the carved feet of a gigantic statue. Winter had called the enthroned giant ‘Lincoln,’ and said he’d once saved humanity from their own folly.

Aine supposed Lincoln must have been a hero indeed to deserve such an elaborate temple placed above the city.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t send you home, princess. I said I can’t.”

Outside the temple it was snowing lightly. Aine was glad of the shelter, even though the stone floor was cold.

She shrugged. “Michael Smith brought me here, so it’s likely Michael Smith can send me back.”

“
Maybe,” Winter allowed. He sat with his knees drawn up under his chin, a pose Aine was learning he preferred. “If you don’t mind a little blood magic and one or two sacrificial victims. It’s obvious Smith’s a monster. And I think it’s safe to assume he didn’t whisk you here because he thought you’d enjoy a nice tour of the D.C. Metro.”

“
On wrongs swift vengeance waits,” Aine whispered.

Winter turned his head.
“Oh, is that what he said? I couldn’t get it all.”

At Aine’s questioning frown he tapped one ear.
“On the video. I’ve never really bothered with lip-reading. I don’t need to, usually. But television is difficult. I have to guess, and it just gives me a headache.”

“
Oh.” Aine hadn’t considered his lack. “Is that why you ran it back so many times?”

“
Did you think I was enjoying your humiliation?” He smirked. “Although I admit I was surprised. For such a tiny thing you have astonishingly long legs.”

Aine hissed. Winter grinned. He tilted hi
s chin, and the gems in his earlobes flashed.

“
Were you born so? Or damaged?” she asked abruptly.

Winter’s eyes darkened and his smile smoothed away.

“Neither. Or maybe both. I was born impetuous, and damaged because I couldn’t help acting a fool.”

Aine reached out a curious hand. The amber gems in his earlobes burned with an inner flame. Aine thought they were beautiful and horrible at the same time.

“Do they . . .”

“
Come off? No.” He sprang up before her fingers could brush the stones. “Here’s Richard and Lolo. About time. I was afraid we’d be buried under snow drifts before they managed it. Are you ready?”

“
For what?”

He reached down, pulling her upright.
“I’m granting your wish, princess. Let’s go find Smith.”

The snow eased to a mist as they walked. Aine thought that the sun seemed dimmer in the human world, the light dirtier. The streets were paved with a black, foul-smelling tar. Most of the buildings were square and ugly.

“
It’s not the best part of town,” Lolo explained, noticing her distaste. “Student housing, quick and cheap. There are some older parts of D.C. that are pretty as a picture.”

Aine didn’t dare disagree. She stepped over someone’s abandoned meal, and thought
wistfully of Gloriana’s perfumed gardens.

“
Now that’s just laziness.” Lolo scrunched his nose at the garbage. “There’s a dumpster four steps away.”

“
My mother says that laziness is desperation’s other face.” Aine thought that any creature forced to live amongst so much concrete and iron must indeed be desperate.

Lolo grunted.
“Laziness is laziness. I say get off your ass and take a minute to dump your breakfast. Nice threads, by the way. Do you up just right. Vintage?”

Aine glanced down at her shirt and trousers. Compared to Lolo’s bright tunic and strange apron she felt muted as the
strange city's weak sunlight. The trousers were black flannel, soft and warm, tight as a second skin. The shop keeper had called them ‘leggings’.

Winter had used
Bran's money to purchase the leggings, a similar black shirt, and a thick yellow scarf dotted with black ‘smiley faces’. She didn’t like the scarf, but it was the warmest they’d found. And Winter had smiled himself when he’d wrapped it around her neck.

“
Aye,” Aine agreed, because she felt she should. “Vintage.”

“
The boots are
bananas
,” said Lolo. “You don’t usually find DMs on secondhand shelves. They go quick, you know.”

“
She has the world’s smallest feet,” Winter said without turning around. He’d been walking several strides ahead, talking quietly to Richard. “Some toddler from the Palisades probably wore those Doc Martens last.”

“
They’re comfortable,” Aine returned, offended by his tone. “And they’re not pink.”

“
You're not that small,” Lolo reassured Aine. “Winter’s just jealous.”

“
Am not,” Winter drawled. “And I quite liked the pink.”

Richard stopped, and tapped his walking stick. The tails of his coat flapped around his ankles.

“Potomac and Penn S.E.? And there’s Harris Teeter.”

Winter regarded the red brick building in much the same way Gloriana considered a newly appointed Court musician, as though sizing up promising entertainment.

“Must be the place. Lolo, go find out which apartment belongs to our sword wielding blood magic noob.”

“
On it,” said Lolo, stepping off the curb.

He dodged three growling cars without appearing to look up. One of the ungainly vehicles squawked, and Aine jumped.

“Horn,” the grey-eyed boy said. “You’ll get used to it.”

“
Or not.” Richard leaned on his cane, long face sour. “There’s a reason I live
under
the streets.”

“
You’re a recluse,” Winter returned. He waited until Lolo crossed the brick threshold, then sighed. “I’m hungry.”

“
What a surprise,” Richard returned, but he didn’t seem bothered. “Five minutes, do you think?”

“
No. He’ll be back out in three.”

Th
e wind blew, and cold raindrops gusted against Aine’s face. She wound the smiley-face scarf around her chin, and stuck her fists into her armpits for warmth.

“
Need to find you a coat, princess,” Winter muttered. “Here he comes. Time?”

Richard checked the watch on its chain around his neck.
“Two minutes fifty.”

Winter smiled. Lolo crossed the street in a jog, bouncing on his toes.

“Third floor,” he reported. “3C. No doorman, no nothing. Just an elevator and a keypad and the place is empty except for a postal and she’s nearly done.”

“
Excellent,” Winter hummed. “You two stay here. Richard and I will go take a look.”

“
No!”

“
Nay!”

Aine wasn’t sure who protested first, but together they were twice as loud.

“I don’t babysit!” Lolo was livid. “You know that.”

“
Normally, no. Today, yes.”

“
I’m going in,” Aine said.

“
Listen.” Winter turned from the building. Flakes of snow stuck to his cap and to his burnt face. “It just wouldn’t be smart, waltzing you into the dragon’s den. Normally I wouldn’t worry. Today’s different.”

“
I’m going in,” Aine repeated. “He knows how to send me home.”

“
Likely he’s not even here,” Richard said. “He’s probably gone to ground somewhere. Why hang around?”

“
For Aine,” Winter snapped. “Unless you think he hasn’t noticed he’s lost her?”

Lolo raised his voice in argument. Richard tapped the end of his cane thoughtfully on the trunk of a spindly tree.

Aine set her foot on the tarred street, looked carefully for rushing cars, and began to walk.

Lolo noticed first. He made a sound like a startled goose. Winte
r blocked her way a heartbeat later.

“
What are you doing?”

“
You can’t stop me.” Aine shook his hand from her sleeve. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

“
You are my problem.” Instead of loosening, Winter’s fingers tangled in her shirt. “And you have no idea what could be in there. How do you plan to protect yourself,
leathcheann
? You’re fresh out of pipe.”

Aine heard the car before she saw it. It rumbled toward them: a smaller, more nimble version of the underground train. The tiny hairs rose on the back of her neck, and she was frozen again, just as she had been in the tunnel, pinned by bright lights and the hiss of heated iron.

Winter was still scolding. She couldn’t hear him, the world had shrunk to the frightened thump of her heart against her ribs. Why didn’t he move? Why didn’t he run?

The car honked. Richard shouted. Winter looked suddenly dumbfounded, and Aine could move again.

She pulled him out of the way just as the car began to swerve and squeal. They staggered, and stumbled, and fetched up against the side of the brick building. Richard and Lolo came tumbling after.

“
Dammit!” Richard threw his cane at Winter. He bent at the knees, panting. “What has gotten into you? Pay attention! Have you completely lost your mind?”

Winter took a long breath. He stared after the vanished car, then at Aine. He didn’t say a word.

Aine’s head was spinning. She brushed snow from her eyelashes. Then she straightened her shoulders.

“
I’m going in,” she insisted, and left the boys standing on the street.

The inside of the building was gloomy. It took a moment for Aine’s vision to adjust. When it did she was able to piece together an impression of a small foyer. A chaise slumped against one wall.
The rug on the floor was crooked.

To Aine’s left a women in a blue uniform shoved parcels into regimented square boxes. She glanced up at Aine, then went back to work.

“Those are the elevators.” Richard pointed at a pair of seamed metal doors. He made a move as if to take her elbow, and then thought better of it. “They’ll take us to the third floor. Have you ever been inside an elevator? They can be disorienting.”

“
Nay.” Aine stopped in front of the doors. She could see no obvious way to open them. On a hunch she pressed the small round button inscribed with an arrow pointing up. She felt a surge of elation when the doors slid open.

“
Have you ever served soup to an angry Queen after she’s just lost a highly contested game of
fidchell
?” she challenged.

“
No. You win points for bravery.” Richard followed her into the compartment. The doors slid shut behind them. He used the tip of his cane to press another glowing button. “Only, I wondered. All the iron in the city . . .”

“
It makes my bones hurt,” Aine admitted. “But I’m growing used to it.”

The compartment shook, then rose ponderously upward. Aine forced herself to keep her hands in her pockets instead of grabbing at the wall.

“Is Winter very embarrassed?”

“
I imagine he’s over it by now. I’m thinking you saved him a trip to the hospital. Winter hates hospitals.”

“
I thought he’d follow,” Aine admitted. The swaying of the elevator had squashed some of Aine’s bravery. She was beginning to worry - only a little - about what she might find in Smith’s rooms.

Richard smiled sympathetically.
“They took the fire escape. They’ve probably turned the place over top to bottom by now.”

The elevator jerked to a stop. The doors parted. Richard swung his cane over one shoulder, and stepped off. Aine followed more cautiously.

It was only a hallway, brighter than the foyer below, and padded with thick rug.

“
This way,” Richard said. “Don’t drag your feet now, you’ll never live it down.”

Aine lengthened her stride to keep up.

There were more doors up and down the hall, closed and quiet. High on one wall above their heads a tiny glass eye rotated back and forth.

“
Camera,” said Richard. “A good thing to remember about this city. Nowadays, there are always cameras.”