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  I saw his gaze land on the redcap, and the massive goblin nodded, then started scanning the surrounding buildings with the air of a trained soldier. These were not the actions of a couple of random fairies who just happened to be in our path. I grabbed the redhead by his tunic and hauled him into a nearby alley. The rest of the team flowed in behind us and blocked the exit.

  “Who are you?” I demanded as I shoved the fairy up against a filthy wall.

  The redhead lost his panicked look as his face settled into stoic lines. He stood straighter, the guise of smarmy bookie gone; replaced by a firm resolve. He held out his hand, almost in challenge.

  “My name is Ned, Your Majesty. It's an honor to meet you,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you too, Ned.” I shook his hand.

  Ned looked shocked that I had gone through with the handshaking. Fairy royals weren't that big on casual introductions. Still, I never stopped being amused at people being shocked by a handshake.

  “Now, tell me what you came here to say,” I continued. “This is obviously not a chance meeting.”

  “Barra has spies everywhere,” Ned reported immediately. “I apologize for the subterfuge, but it was necessary.”

  “I'm beginning to see that.” I nodded. “Go on.”

  “We have no choice, Queen Seren,” he said. “This is our life now; we do what we must to survive. But as hard as it can be, it has never been as hellish as the fairy courts were.”

  “But now it is,” I concluded.

  “Now it's worse, Your Majesty,” he said sadly. “Men are attacking each other in the street, just to cut off a wing or a talon. There's a price on our bodies, and desperation is thick here. Please, we need your help.”

  “Why do you think we're here?” Conri asked. “We're trying to help.”

  “I know you're trying, but we need you to succeed.” Ned glanced past the wall of extinguishers and fairy knights, and into the street before he went on. “I wanted you to hear from one of those living here, just how horrible it is. There are those of us who have banded together, to try to fight Barra. We've placed spies in several of his outposts and have been slowly learning his plans. One of the secrets we discovered was a plot to take care of Council interference.”

  “Go on,” Killian urged.

  “He's been feeding you false information,” Ned explained. “Your informants are Barra's people. They have been pixie-leading the extinguishers about, keeping the chase going long enough to draw as many of you down here as possible, and now they're going to spring their traps.”

  “How many?” Edgar Sloane growled as he stepped forward. “How many traps has Barra set? There are three raids scheduled for today.”

  “They're all set-ups,” Ned spoke urgently. “Barra has men waiting at each location for your teams. We overheard the guards saying that they're going to kill the extinguishers and then blame their deaths on us. They've hired mercenaries to pose as common citizens.”

  “So, what you're saying is; he's about to make things even worse for you folks,” Killian noted.

  “That's right, Ambassador,” Ned said. “He's about to start a war between two forces who are on the same side.”

  “Damn it all,” Edgar growled as he tried to use his cell phone. “No service.”

  “No problem.” I pulled out my scry phone. “What's your head councilman's name?”

  “Councilman Jeremy Teagan,” Edgar said immediately. “What is that thing?”

  “Salvation, hopefully,” Killian muttered.

  It looked as if that the Boise Council House wasn't one of those who had ordered extra phones for their extinguishers. What bad luck; those phones would have made it possible for us to contact the other teams directly. As it was, I had to go through the Boise, Head Councilman.

  “Councilman Jeremy Teagan,” I said, and then handed the phone to Killian. “Tell him about the traps, Kill. I need to hear what else Ned has to say.”

  “On it, Twilight,” Killian said. Then the slice of quartz filled with a male face. Kill started speaking rapidly, “Councilman, you need to listen to me very carefully.”

  “What's waiting for us on Havers street?” I asked Ned.

  “At least fifty mercenaries,” Ned said. “I don't know who exactly, but I'm betting they'll be big and bad.”

  “And where are the real sorcerer shops?” Cyrus asked.

  “Trindel street has the only one in Meridian's Underground at the moment,” Ned said. “It's in the nice part of town, you know?”

  “Yeah; we know,” Cyrus muttered. “Barra keeps it close to his headquarters so that he can protect the sorcerers; both clients and supplier.”

  “Exactly,” Ned agreed.

  “Ambassador, I suggest we raid the real shop, and do what we came here to do,” Cyrus said to me.

  “And just leave those mercenaries?” I asked.

  “They're doing a job; that's all,” Torquil said. “They're not going to come looking for us when we don't show up. But that sorcerer is going to continue paying fairies to kill other fairies. In my opinion, that's far worse than magic-for-hire. Not to mention; it's our mission.”

  “Yes; what he said.” Cyrus nodded at Torquil.

  “Okay; I see your point,” I gave in. “Trindel it is.”

  “Councilman Teagan is calling the other teams now,” Killian said. “He doesn't know if he'll be able to reach them, but if he doesn't, he's sending in reinforcements.”

  “Either way, we have proof of Barra's criminal behavior,” Lara said.

  “What proof?” Ned huffed. “You only have my... oh. No way; I'm not testifying against Barra. I don't really have a death wish; that was a joke.”

  “You had the courage to warn us,” I cajoled Ned. “I just need you to have a little more. I promise I will protect you.”

  “It's not me I'm worried about,” he muttered. “I got people here. Tekk out there; he's like family.”

  “Who else?” I asked.

  “I... uh.” He scrunched up his face in thought. “Roughly twenty fairies.”

  “Go get them,” I said. “Take them out of the Underground and meet us at Village Mall. There's a fountain in the parking lot; wait there.”

  “Seriously?” He gaped at me. “No offense, Your Majesty, but then what? I point my finger at Barra, and shit goes down. That's all good for you, but where do my people and I go from there?”

  “Wherever you want, Ned,” I said gently. “If you want to come home to Fairy; I can assure you that things are different now and you will be safe there. If you prefer to stay here; I will help you make a new life; a better one. I swear it.”

  “Well, fuck me,” Ned whispered. “You're exactly how they describe you.”

  “Are you with us or not?”

  “I'm with you, Your Majesty,” he said firmly. “I'll meet you above.” He waved us out of the alley. “Trindel is straight down that road.” He pointed it out. “Danu be with you.”

  “She can't,” I said matter-of-factly. “Not here. But Anu is, and maybe he'll look after his sister's children this one time. May he be with you as well, Ned.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ned said with deep sincerity. “Now, get the fuck out of here; I can't leave until after you do. Oh, and there's one other thing you should know...”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Trindel was in the heart of the Underground, just two doors down from Barra's headquarters. The Underground overlord didn't live in the Underground, or even in Meridian; his residence was above ground in Boise. But he had outposts in several locations. His headquarters in Meridian housed a barracks of brutes that kept the Underground in line for him. That was the “one more thing” that Ned had to tell us; there were thirty thugs in residence at any given time in the headquarters, and they were within shouting distance of the sorcerer and his shop of horrors.

  Ask me if I gave a shit.

  I strode angrily through the streets, the extinguishers matching my determined stride, while Killian and Cyrus s
earched the area anxiously. I probably should have been more careful, more like Killian, but I was furious. This bastard was on Earth by the grace of the Human Council, and he used his opportunity to not only hurt humans, but also his own people. He needed to be removed now; no trial, no evidence, just a straight-up extinguishment.

  My steps slowed as I remembered feeling this way before; during the months after my mother had been murdered. Ewan and I had taken every extinguishment contract we could get our hands on, and we had killed with fanatic glee. Every fairy was an outlet for the rage and heartbreak that had been heaped upon us. They were all responsible for Catriona's death, and we had intentions to make them pay.

  One of the jobs of an extinguisher was to serve as an executioner. In fact, that's where the name came from; they extinguish the immortal light within faeries. My parents and I had been an extinguisher family, which meant that we worked as a team; monitoring faeries on Earth and occasionally extinguishing them. But after my mother's murder, my father and I had considered all fairies guilty. The extinguishment contracts were just a way for us to kill legally. We didn't care what the charge was or whether there were suspicious circumstances; if the Council found them guilty, that was good enough for us.

  Technically, that was how an extinguisher should behave—trusting the Human Council and following its orders—but in actuality, the Council expected its soldiers to use their common sense. If an extinguisher found proof that the contract was unjust, they had the authority to suspend the extinguishment and contact the Human Council for a review. But Ewan and I were beyond fairness for awhile. It wasn't until we were tasked with extinguishing Aideen—my dryad friend—that I realized how far Dad and I had gone. I surfaced from my rage haze and faced the monster in my mirror, coming to terms with the evil inside me... as well as that inside Ewan. He took much longer to recover, and seeing what I had been like—through watching him—had made me swear to myself to never sink to such maliciousness again.

  And there I was; sinking.

  “Shit,” I whispered as I took a deep breath and calmed myself. “Hold up,” I called to the extinguishers.

  Cyrus, Killian, and the Star's Guard had stopped with me, but the extinguishers had to circle back. They didn't say anything, just looked at me expectantly.

  “We're all angry, and we can't go in there like this,” I said to the extinguishers. “Our job requires integrity and intelligence. I need everyone to take a deep breath.”

  “Why? That motherfucker isn't doing anything with integrity,” Edgar growled.

  “And that's why we should,” I said slowly. “We cannot become what we fight against. Extinguishers do not fear the darkness, but they do not create it either. We don't feed it or feed on it.”

  “She's right,” Extinguisher Sullivan said. “We need to do this by the book, if for no other reason than so we can get this bastard.”

  “And not just the one sorcerer,” I added. “We need to take this guy alive so we can question him, and hopefully, he'll lead us to his fellow assholes.”

  “Thank Danu,” Cyrus breathed the words out. “I was dreading a repeat of the last raid.”

  “He attacked,” Edgar muttered, “I didn't have a choice.”

  “That's the shop, right there,” Cleary stepped in. “And Barra's place is just beyond. Looks like a few of his men are on guard, but they don't appear too concerned about the shop.”

  “They know that the raid has been directed to Havers,” Conri huffed. “Which means that they won't be worried about guarding the shop. We should be able to approach without trouble. How do you want to handle this, Your Highness?”

  “Your Highness;” use of that title was a clear indication that a fairy was twilight. I was Queen of Seelie and Unseelie, but only Princess of Twilight, and while my father lived, calling me “Your Majesty”—a title reserved for kings and queens—was akin to high treason.

  “You're the hunter, Cyrus,” I said. “We'll follow your lead.”

  Cyrus blinked in surprise, and the extinguishers stiffened.

  “Now, hold on,” Sullivan said. “This is our raid.”

  “Yes; to apprehend any law-breaking fairies. But humans who break the truce are a hunter's responsibility, and those sorcerers are humans,” I clarified. “We're raiding the shop, and backing him up, but the arrest will belong to Cyrus. You wouldn't appreciate him stepping in and arresting a fairy, would you?”

  Sullivan grimaced and shook his head.

  “Anyone else have a problem with that?” Killian asked roughly.

  The rest of the extinguishers shook their heads. The Star's Guard smiled.

  “Cyrus?” I looked at the hunter.

  Cyrus was staring at the sorcerer shop pensively; looking over the red brick walls and the wooden shutters. Finally, he nodded.

  “There may be a back entrance there.” Cyrus pointed down a cross street that ran behind the shop. “We need a group at the back, one soldier at the side street to watch the building as well as the street, and the rest of us will go in the front. Be wary of wards, everyone.”

  The group looked at each other and quickly divided. Two extinguishers went with four of my Guard toward the back of the shop. I sent Extinguisher Murdock to watch from the side street, while the rest of us headed toward the shop entrance. Once we were on the shop's side of the street—the same as Barra's building—we weren't in the guards' line of sight. We simply walked up the cement steps and went through the shop's front door. A little bell jingled merrily, announcing our arrival, and a man in a tweed coat turned to face us with a greedy grin. He had a comb-over and tortoiseshell glasses. He looked as if he belonged in a library, not a fairy underground.

  His beady eyes widened behind his glasses when he spotted all of us—going from the extinguisher's helmeted heads to Cyrus's sword—and he opened his mouth to scream. Cyrus' hand was already lifted, and a stream of pale blue light burst from his fingertips. The sorcerer turned blue; frozen in place.

  A crash alerted us to another presence, and we all swiveled about to see one more sorcerer staring at us in shock. His hand was hovering in the air before him as if he were still holding the troll skull he'd just dropped. Suddenly, he dove behind a shelf, rustled in his coat, and came up on the other side with a glass bottle in his hand. It was full of a glittering liquid.

  “Stop!” He squeaked as we started for him. “This took me a month to make, but I'll use it; I swear I will.”

  “What the fuck is it?” Edgar growled. “Looks like you raided the mini-bar.”

  The sorcerer—a fortyish black man with Morgan Freeman freckles—gaped at us before stuttering an answer. “It's Liquid Chaos. I thought you people were magical?”

  “We are,” Cyrus growled as he froze the idiot. “That's why we don't need to know what Liquid Chaos is.”

  Edgar strode over to the sorcerer and carefully took the bottle out of his hand. He went to Cyrus and handed it to him.

  “Looks like we have more evidence,” Edgar said. “Maybe this will help the Councils make some laws regarding sorcerers.”

  “It just might.” Cyrus nodded as he slipped the bottle into his pocket. “But it's is only the beginning.” Cyrus nodded to the shop in general.

  I finally took a good look around me, and I wished that I hadn't. Wings of all sorts hung from ceiling beams on butcher's hooks. For those who couldn't afford a full wing, there were vases of single feathers on display beneath. A line of skulls was laid out in military precision down one shelf, and the shelf below it contained jars of preserved heads. Those were just the large items, the things I recognized right away. After a moment, my mind started to adjust to the shock, and I began to read the labels on bottles: spriggan blood, puka testicles, mermaid scales. There was the hoof of a glastig set beside a kitsune tail, keelut teeth filled a wooden bowl, and in a glass case behind the counter, there were preserved pixes—their tiny bodies suspended in fluid; eyes and mouths open in silent screams.

  The breath stuttered in my thr
oat; fighting with the bile that was rising.

  I turned around slowly, my eyes jumping from item to item; ground sylph wings, selkie fur, and a whole riksha hide. There were long, slender vanara tails covered in sleek, brown fur, and tanned goblin hides in multiple colors. A kappa's head bowl sat beside a tengu claw, and a full set of baobhan sith teeth was on display like a dentistry aid. I was surrounded by a graveyard's worth of body parts.

  Then my gaze landed on something that stopped my breath. I stumbled forward, my hands reaching for a bundle of branches. They were a soft brown, with delicate, pastel-green leaves, and were thin, almost to the point where you could mistake them for vines. There should have been delicate, fluted flowers on the branches; slightly paler in color than the leaves and with the most beautiful fragrance. They had fallen off from obvious abuse, but I'd know those branches anywhere.

  “Aideen!” I sobbed.

  Everyone went still.

  “No,” I moaned. “Danu, please, not her.”

  My hands fluttered over the velvety branches, up to the top of the bunch, where there was a piece of flesh still attached. Wisps of pale green hair hung from the scalp.

  The scream strangled me as I collapsed to my knees.

  “Shh,” Killian cradled me. “Easy now, sweetheart. We don't know that it's Aideen's.”

  “The hair, Killian,” I cried. “That's the same shade as hers.”

  “Your Majesty,” Cyrus said gently. “That shade is common in dryads.”

  “And are night queens common too, Cyrus?” I wailed. “These are night blooming jasmine branches.”

  He inhaled sharply. The members of my Guard, who all knew Aideen, went tense, their eyes focused on that horrifying bundle of branches that had once been attached to a dryad's head... possibly my friend's head.

  “Ambassador, pull it together!” Sloane snapped. “I get it; you think that's a piece of your friend. But right now, it's only speculation and it's beside the point. We gotta get these prisoners and this evidence out of the Underground, and get ourselves to safety.”

  “He's right, Your Highness,” Gradh said gently. “Surely someone would have told us if Aideen was missing or hurt. Your father is dating her mother, remember? We would know.”