The hospital was sprawling, with glowing lights, but Niamh kept her distance. She should have been at work, but without her jacket, entering with her wings exposed would announce to one and all that another kind of paranormal lived here.
She slumped onto a seat and dug deep into her bag.
Perhaps her friend Ellen might drop a cape around? She pressed the buttons on the phone and waited out the ringing signals.
“Yeah? What’s wrong, hon?” The gravelly voice settled her jangling nerves.
“I need help. Someone was going to hurt me, and I had to lose my jacket and escape. Do you have a cape I could borrow until I—”
“Now who on earth would want to hurt an itty-bitty thing like you?” Fear filtered into Niamh’s brain as she heard Ellen’s query.
“I don’t know. I was just leaving home when—”
“Home? Does someone know where you live? Where are you now? Somewhere safe?”
Niamh glanced around the park, deserted and dark. At least she hoped so. But with the number of paranormals in the area, you could never be sure.
“I’m in the park opposite the hospital.”
“I’ll be right there. On the bench by the entry?”
“Yes.”
The call disconnected, and Niamh took a breath, though it was unsteady. At least Ellen understood the problem. She’d been Niamh’s contact when she’d first come to this land of vast concrete edifices and buildings. She was also the supervisor of her shift, so ringing Ellen actually took two things off her plate, explaining why she’d be late for her shift and telling her that likely Niamh’s location and status were breached.
Niamh peered at the lights and could make out a woman hurrying across the street. Ellen was almost as slight as she was, an older member of the clan she’d left. In each generation there were those who were sent away, either to make a new life or because they couldn’t conform. For Ellen, she’d actively campaigned to be released from the place she’d been birthed, wanting more and bigger.
“Here.” Ellen thrust the cape into her hands. “You best come now, though, because I hear there’s going to be an inspection tomorrow morning, and they want the entire women’s ward in B5 ready to go through.”
The hospital was being rehabilitated, and they were regularly given only a day’s notice to bring wards and entire areas up to scratch before inspections were held.
She slid the material around her shoulders. “Thanks, Ellen. I can stay back if needed.”
The woman shook her head. “No. You’ll be taken home tonight by Maxim.” Even before Niamh could open her mouth, the woman shook her head as they scurried towards a concealed entrance. “We can’t have you being endangered. Yer mam would have my guts for garters.”
Niamh nearly laughed, but her mother was not a woman to be trifled with, so she accepted the words, knowing she’d take Ellen to task if something did indeed happen to her offspring.
In the changing room, she hurried about fixing her wings so they were out of view, then grabbed the cleaning trolley she’d been assigned, and Ellen gave her specifics of the tasks she must accomplish.
Simon woke to the hammering of his front door and the harsh burning sunlight on his face.
“What the…?” He glanced at the clock beside the bed and jackknifed up. “Fucking hell!” The alarm hadn’t gone off, and his first appointment of the day would arrive in under fifteen minutes. If he didn’t miss his guess, the knocking was likely his assistant, Jessica, wondering why the door wasn’t unlocked for her to enter.
Thankful he’d thought to don at least light boxer-style pyjama bottoms, he strode to the door and pulled it open. Her eyes widened.
“A bit late for those, don’t you think?” She brushed past him. “I’ll get the coffee on and start the machine while you shower and dress.”
He rubbed his hands through his hair and grunted before turning and slamming his bedroom door.
Less than ten minutes later, he’d managed a quick shower, thanked the heavens he’d invested in a woman to iron for him and clean, and looked at himself in the mirror. He was lean and tall, his face chiselled in the jaw and his eyes a deep blue. He knew he still carried the English accent, a holdover from infancy in 1800 England. His grandfather had brought the entire clan to America in early 1804, and they’d weathered the many storms by taking refuge in the country's north. His grandfather had since returned to the clan holdings in northern England with his new family.
“Are you ready, Simon? You have a meeting in five minutes,” Jessica called.
Of course he did. Genevieve Fernly and David had requested the meeting the night before, and he’d messaged Jessica to warn her to prepare.
Exiting the room, he’d barely set himself down in the armchair when he heard the peal of the bell. Jessica hurried in, the couple following her.
David reached out his hand, still new to the were aspect of life; he didn’t realise the deference of one were to another, especially a more highly ranked male, meant he was to wait.
Genevieve grimaced, and Simon laughed loudly. “It’s okay. Take a seat.”
He watched David’s furtive glance to Genevieve.
“You can explain later. But show me this note,” Simon said.
Genevieve tugged a small bagged piece of paper from her pocket and handed it over.
Genevieve, ma coeur.
I never meant to keep these things, but you know shifters and our need to keep trophies. Like your mother and that coin. Yes, I know about it and your father. Such a shame that you will lose everything because she had to have a one-night stand.
I would have taken you away from all that confusing human trash. I planned to make you mine, then fight for control of the pack. Then you chose him, and my plans came to naught.
So, I guess this is your mess to clean up.
Me, well, I’m leaving town. Going to find somewhere to howl and enjoy the spoils of hunting. Somewhere far, far away. Now you can chase me. You can try, but dearest, you don’t have the nose for this kind of hunt. I’d tell you to give it all up, but you won’t.
I’m counting on that.
By the way, your new man may be a shifter, but he has no training. No knowledge of the magic and wonder we can instil. He’ll never survive in a pack because you’re an abomination against my kind. You should give him up now, before it’s too late and he crosses some line and must face the trials. Because he simply won’t survive.
Ah well. Your choice.
I won’t bid you goodbye, simply adieu.
Julien
He read the words. Considered them and the underlying thread of hate. “Nice guy.”
She blushed with embarrassment. “I… He isn’t mine.”
No. That much was clear from the missive. But he had been. Once. “I’ll need to visit the pack. See if they can tell me where he’s gone.”
Her lips thinned. “I doubt they’ll tell you anything. The pack isn’t exactly warm and welcoming.”
“So, tell me what you know.”
David blinked. “I’m not sure there’s much to tell. You’ve read the note. Genevieve had a relationship with him when she was younger. His intention was to use her to gain control of the pack. He moved here in the recent past, created difficulties for her at work, and now he’s making threats.”
Simon waved his comments away. He needed to hear from Genevieve first. Then he’d sort out the mess of how he’d track the mongrel down.
“Genevieve?”
She shrugged. “It’s pretty close to what David said. You know my background. My mother and her wild ways. She was in contact with Julien’s family until this happened. And no, I haven’t told her about this letter or his actions. That would be a step too far right now.” She glanced at him. “She’s convinced I should mate with him. I’ve not yet told her it’s too late. I know Julien’s in touch with his family, but knowing him, I doubt he’s told them where he’s hunkering down. Only that he has a plan and will bring them into it when he’s good and ready. They doted on him. His father is the beta, and he’s the only son. All their other offspring are daughters, which won’t bring them the glory they seek.”
He grunted at the assessment of the situation. He’d dealt with others like this before. Messy backgrounds, those who felt disenfranchised yet hadn’t the ability to step up and take control of their packs.
“All right. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”
She shook her head. “No. None of this makes sense. I know he had a place on the south side. I’ve been in touch with the lieutenant, and he sent someone over there, but it’s cleared out. He’s gone into the wind. He sold his vehicle too.”
Now he frowned. “Sold the car?”
“He doesn’t want us to find him. I can put out a BOLO, but he’d be expecting that,” she added.
“No. We don’t want to tip him off just yet. And you’re sure that handwriting is his?”
Genevieve nodded.
“Lord… uh…” David cleared his throat, clearly having now caught on that his earlier overture wasn’t what was expected.
“‘Simon’ is fine, David. The vamps have no information?”
He shook his head. “They’re unable to assist in this matter right now. Not because they don’t want to, as Cressida tasked me with telling you they’ll do all they can, but they’re still recovering. Attar took a toll they didn’t expect. We…” He stopped himself as if he wrestled inwardly. “The houses have no one to offer for a little while. Once they’re at full strength again, however, Cressida and the Council wish to meet with you to formalise an agreement between any paranormals that exist. They understand that protection of those weaker than them will require a broader view. She’s been given the power to make this happen.”
Simon weighed the words. He knew Cressida, an aged and powerful vampire, had recently become the liege of the vampires. He’d been unaware that they’d been discussing this, since his grandfather had made overtures in the fifties and sixties to form just such an alliance.
“That’s an offer I will look into. Once we get through this current crisis.”
Niamh couldn’t believe her luck. The area she’d been designated to clean was empty of all furniture, so she hurried to ensure the floors were clean. Next she scrubbed the walls before beginning on the ablution area.
By the time her shift ended, it shined like a new five pence piece. Stretching her back, she waited for the customary crack while the pressure on her spine abated.
“You’ve done excellent work,” Ellen said, checking out the area with a slow and methodical eye.
Niamh jumped. “You frightened me!”
The older woman simply smiled in response. “You do very good work, Niamh. At this rate, they’ll want you on the day shift, and I’m not sure I could keep you here. But this… is it what you envisaged when you came to America?”
“It’s not what I expected I’d be doing. But I have to eat until I can either return home or find something else a little less stressful to do. Or study.” Not that she was complaining. Ellen had taken her on with no experience, taught her the job, and given her an opportunity. She’d be eternally grateful for the start, but she needed better if she had any hopes of being able to return to the country of her birth.
“You’ve done well, child. But there are bad things around here, things that will gobble you up as soon as look at you, as you know. Tonight…” Ellen shivered, her eyes wide. “I’ve made arrangements. Maxim will take you home, and I need you to be careful. I’ve heard even the vamps aren’t safe right now.”
A shock of fear slid through her, like a worm through soil might, with undulations. “What do you mean? Ellen, the vamps and weres are the strongest of—”
The sound of footsteps echoed. “Shh…”
Maxim lumbered in. He too was a fairy, though from another glade. He’d been banished because he’d made the mistake of wanting to be with a nymph against the wishes of his kind. She’d not known him before. Ellen had said he’d been here for some time, and she’d never known him as anything other than the lonely man who stood before them, sad and insular.
Not for the first time, she wished someone could breach that cloud he seemed to fold around himself. The one that stopped anyone getting close. As with many of their number who’d been sent away—and anyone who knew the fairy leaders understood conflict was not their way—he’d had to reinvent himself. He looked maybe thirty in human years, with a sad smile, long brown hair he wore in a tail, and trim though tall of stature.
She smiled, pleased that they would make their way to the changing rooms together. It felt like some kind of discordant family. “Hey, Maxim, maybe we should grab a bite to eat on the way home?”
He turned and shook his head. “I’ll drop you off before I go home.” His voice was heavily accented, betraying his Russian ancestry.
Ellen had explained he’d already been here ten years and learned English because he’d intended to blend in. But the sad cloud seemed to put paid to that attempt, she thought. How could anyone that alone possibly blend into a crowd?
They climbed into his car, and he drove sedately, taking great care to make sure they arrived in one piece before he pulled in by her home.
At the door, she looked back, but he waited patiently in the car to see her enter. Sighing, Niamh turned, slid the key into the lock, and stepped inside.
With a flick, the lights illuminated the small apartment. It wasn’t much. One room was sectioned into multiple uses as a bedroom, lounge, and kitchen, but at least there was a tiny cupboard-like bathroom. She didn’t need to share.
Sliding the bolt of the front door into place, she exhaled and stripped off the borrowed cape. Tomorrow she’d need to purchase a new jacket to replace the one she’d lost, then make the necessary alterations. It would mean dipping into her emergency funds, but that was what they were for.
Niamh tottered to the bathroom, stripping as she went.
She turned the shower on, then dumped her clothes into the miniscule hamper. “I’ll need to launder tomorrow.” The small line she strung up in the bathroom didn’t allow for a lot, but she lived alone, and mostly the clothes she wore were the horrid uniform and old comfortable sweatpants with matching tops. She spent as much time during the daylight hours hiding away from the humans as possible. They had no idea fairies such as her even existed, and the unwritten though cardinal rule was to never tell. She adhered to that one studiously.
She had determined early on that food was easier when delivered, and on the odd occasion she left this place of safety, it was at night, when no one would get a glimpse of her shimmering wings. She always ensured they were hidden from sight in long jackets or dresses where she could conceal them.
Summer was a trial, with long days, short nights, and high temps, but she’d accepted that there was nothing more she could do.
Stepping under the water, she let the cares of the night wash away down the drain.
“I am calm. I am determined. I will make this life a success.” The mantra soothed the last ragged edges of her anxiety away, as it always did.
Winding the towel around herself, she wiped away the moisture beading her body. The old spotted mirror above the sink showed the smudges below her eyes. The concave hollows beneath her cheekbones. Lips just a shade too wide and eyes that shone like emeralds. Her hair a ragged sweep of dirty blond. More than once, she’d wished for the rich, shimmery red curtain most of her cousins sported.
“If wishes were horses, my girl.”
She towelled off and headed for the area she’d designated as the sleeping zone. The lounge chair was long enough to double as a bed, but opposite was the television, and she’d taken to finding a musical channel, sliding it down low so not as to disturb the neighbours.
The bottle of water she kept on the small battered coffee table that doubled as her dinner place was empty, so she turned to the kitchenette and filled it, ensuring to pull the blinds and curtains as she always did.
Finally assured of her privacy, she sipped and lay down.
Sleep captured her, and reality spun away.