35. Of Dragons and Teas and Terrifying Things

"She was holding him in an extremely remote place and we lost her. I found her again tonight, but she wasn't reading up here," I tapped my forehead, "like a vampire. I'm sorry. It's hard to explain."

I set my cup down as well. "I'd searched the city and found all the rest of the vampires, but not her. I began to search in the North Bay again and felt something odd in the ocean. The signature was off. It wasn't a vampire and yet I could see it. I realized it was Leticia and she was in the process of draining all the blood from a mermaid. When she shoved the body away, it began to dissolve into nothingness."

"Dead fae return to Faerie. So, you not only hear vampires' thoughts, you can see through their eyes." She sat back, appraising me.

"I'd really appreciate it, ma'am, if you kept that between the three of us."

Benvair stood abruptly and crossed to the fireplace, absently picking up a figurine. "Can you locate dragons as you do vampires?" The reluctant hope in her voice had me exchanging glances with Clive.

"I'm sorry. I can't. Only the dead. Or mostly dead," I added. "The living are beyond my abilities."

"I see." The cold indifference in her voice now couldn't quite hide the disappointment. Who was she looking for?

She went back to her chair and picked up her cup of tea. "If you found her, why is she still alive?"

"Glutting herself on fae blood changed her. She was still a vampire, obviously, but I didn't have the same control over her."

Benvair's finger lightly tapped the rim of the teacup, lost in thought. Fyffe returned a moment later to refill it for her.

"Your concern," she said to Clive, "is that Faerie not hold you or all of San Francisco responsible for what this vampire is doing, is that correct?"

"Yes."

She took a sip, staring out the window. "You could send a note, but she could very easily interpret that was disrespectful and dismissive. Her people are being killed by one of yours." When Clive opened his mouth, she continued. "She won't care whether or not this vampire is a member of your nocturne. She's a vampire. You will all be blamed for not controlling your own. If she's in a bad mood, she may cast her net more widely and blame all of us."

She blew out a breath and shook her head. "You can't go," she said to Clive. "The existence of vampires offends her." She pointed at me. "You go and plead the case."

"No," Clive said, jumping to his feet. "That's unacceptable."

"You draw in this Leticia and kill her while Sam speaks with the queen." She turned her attention to me. "You show her respect by informing her of the threat to her people and what you're both doing to end the threat."

Clive strode to the window overlooking the moonlit ocean, his back to us. His emotions were in upheaval, but he appeared unperturbed.

"We've been trying to catch her for a while. How does Clive draw her in?" I took another sip of the now tepid tea, hoping my calm would help settle Clive.

Benvair's gaze caught on my ring. "Throw an engagement party. A big, lavish party. Invite everyone. Make it a masquerade, so she thinks she's hidden. You said she wants to kill Clive. She'll come, hoping to hide in plain sight and attack. Instead, you take her."

"Yes," Clive said, nodding slowly at his reflection in the dark glass. "That could work."

"And while the vampires are neutralizing that threat, Sam visits Faerie."

"Sam needs to be at the party with me."

"No. The party will take time to set up, decorations, food, invitations. In fact, I'll throw it for you here. You'll pay for it, of course."

"Of course," Clive said.

"That way, it will appear even less like a trap. Don't fill it with vampires. It will be a who's who of the local supernatural community. You should have someone roughly Sam's size and build at your side. We'll draw her in, and you end it."

She resumed tapping the rim of her cup. "While we plan and set up, Sam crosses into Faerie and begins the long trek to Una's court."

"Una? That's Faerie's name?" Everyone kept referring to the queen by the name of the realm. It was confusing.

"The Fairy Queen, Mab, Titania, Gloriana, Una, Queen of Elphame, Morgan, Maeve, Tanaquill; she goes by many names, though most refer to her as Faerie itself. All fae swear their allegiance to her."

"No king?" I desperately needed any and all information I could get.

Benvair shrugged, her lips pursed. "I suppose. He was going by Finvarra last I heard. He's always scheming to steal her power, but make no mistake, the power is hers."

"Okay." Nodding, I turned to Clive's back. "This could work." When he remained stiff and unyielding, I said, "What's the alternative? Race up and down the coast, trying to catch her? Let her kill more innocents as she desperately tries to keep your attention? Ms. Drake has graciously offered us her home to set a trap. You take care of the imminent threat. I'll chat up the queen and try not to incite an incident."

Clive turned, eyes vamp black, expression forbidding. I rose and went to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "You don't think I'm going to be just as worried about you? You're making yourself bait for a woman who will do anything to get close to you. Her childhood crush is now her obsession. I have to leave you here and hope for the best."

Squeezing him, I said, "Will I be scared? Of course, but Ms. Drake will tell me what I need to know, and I'll be my most polite as I explain our predicament. I'm a lowly, humble book nerd and bartender. I'm just the messenger. I'll slip in, explain what we're doing to protect her people, and slide right back out again."

Black eyes blazing, he said, "No."

I laid my head on his chest and breathed in his scent. "It's not your choice, love. It has to be done and it can't be you. Partners, remember?

"Oh, hey," I said, extracting myself from his grip. "I can call Grim and ask for advice. Tankards of mead for life if he gives me the inside scoop on surviving Faerie. This'll work," I assured him, patting his shoulder and returning to my seat. I needed Benvair to tell me everything she knew.

The following afternoon,I awoke to Clive's arms wrapped tightly around me. I couldn't wiggle out. Finally, after assuring him over and over I wouldn't leave until he awoke, his muscles relaxed enough to release me.

Showered and ponytailed, I stood in the closet and considered. I was meeting a powerful queen, but comfort and ease of movement seemed the more important consideration. If I needed to run, I didn't want a dress or heels to trip me up. I was a messenger, after all, not a visiting dignitary.

Jeans, running shoes, and a hoodie it was. I grabbed my old threadbare backpack, stuffed in spare clothes and toiletries, and then went to the kitchen to raid its recently filled cabinets. Protein bars and jerky went in, along with two bottles of water. My image of Faerie was one of lush greens and babbling brooks, so more water shouldn't be a problem. Then again, Benvair made it quite clear I was not to eat or drink in Faerie, no matter what. I could eat the food I brought in, but not hers.

Adding more water, I searched the shelves for high-calorie, high-protein foods I could live on for a while. I had no idea how long this journey would take. Stepping through the mirror and into the heart of the realm was easy enough. It was getting back out that had me in a cold sweat.

Once full, I dropped the backpack to the side of the stairs, intending to be there when Clive awoke, but he was already coming down, expression hard. I turned and led the way back to the kitchen, grabbing blood from the refrigerator and pulling down a goblet for him. No one else was awake yet and we needed to talk before they were.

Handing him the goblet, I took his free hand and walked him to his study, nabbing my backpack on the way. If the other vamps woke before I got back for it, food might go missing. They didn't actively want me dead. Too much. But if I got trapped in Faerie, well, was that really a tragedy?

I took the now empty goblet from his hand, leaving it on his desk, before making him sit on my bench. Straddling his knees, I sat and stared him straight in the eye. "I'm going to be careful and I'm going to come home to you."

"You can't know that. Anything could happen and I wouldn't be able to stop it. I'm being asked to sit safely in my fortress while you risk your life because of vampires. Damn it, Sam. I won't know if anything happens to you."

"Lots of fae come into the bar. They like me fine. I'll be okay." I leaned in and kissed him, wanting to reassure him. He was right, though. Neither would know if the other was safe. We'd each need to wait and hope.

"The fae you've met have chosen to live in this realm, rather than Faerie. They've acculturated. The fae you will be dealing with in Faerie have no interest in nor any experience with passing as human." He pulled me in, crushing me against him. "You will come back to me, safe and healthy. That's an order."

I grinned against his neck, breathing in his scent, trying to store it for the journey ahead. "So strict."

"We haven't had nearly long enough together." He leaned back and framed my face with his hands. "I mean it." His thumbs brushed my cheeks. "It won't do if you're not here beside me." He pulled me forward, his lips claiming mine. Longing and fear mixed with love and passion.

When we finally broke apart, I stood and held out a hand. "We should go now." Clive was going to drive me to The Wicche Glass and watch me step through.

"Wait. I have a gift for you to give the queen." He went to his desk and pulled a velvet bag from his top drawer. "Here. Hopefully, she'll see it as a worthy gift."

There was some weight to it. "Can I see?"

"Of course."

I opened the bag and tipped it over. A round, green stone dropped into my hand.

"It's imperial jade, carved centuries ago. One of a kind."

Turning it over, I saw one side was a smooth, intense green while the other was intricately carved, amazingly so. The leaves of a tree appeared to be hanging over the recessed scene of a fairy drinking from a pond. The detail was extraordinary. Staring, I felt like I was being drawn into the cool shadow of the sheltering branches.

It was delicate and perfect and now I was terrified I was going to break it before I had a chance to give it to her. "Do I want to know how much this thing is worth?"

"No. Hopefully, it will be enough to ensure your safe passage home."

Russell and Godfrey met us at the garage door. In a rare show of emotion, Russell handed me the sword I'd been practicing with and then hugged me. Godfrey, on the other hand, hung back, looking concerned.

Sword and sheath in hand, I asked, "Do I need this? I have my claws and I don't want to appear hostile."

"We don't know if they'll work, do we?" Godfrey said.

"If what'll work?"

"Your claws, Miss Quinn. We have no idea if you'll be able to shift in Faerie." Russell nodded toward Clive. "The Master can adjust that for you." He bowed a moment later, Godfrey a half second behind. "We are indebted. You are once again risking your life for our kind."

He was good, playing it up for anyone who was listening. Poor Russell and Clive. They really seemed to think they could get the nocturne to stop hating me. Good luck with that.

The drive to Colma was far quicker than it should have been. When Clive parked, it took all the courage I could muster to open the door and step out. I needed to be confident and controlled. Clive was worried enough for the both of us.

When we went through the gate, I heard low voices. Had The Wicche Glass opened again? Dang. Stepping through the mirror was going to be tricky now.

When we turned the corner into the courtyard, I stopped short. "What are you doing here?"