Here Be Monsters [2] Page 2

  "You mean like Changelings?"

  "Not like me—but before then. They used their blood to make small monsters. Humans that needed to feed on the blood of others."

  "Thom..are you insinuating that these Fallen…were vampires?"

  "Aye," Thom nodded. "They were the first." He gave a small smile. "Ironic isn't it? That the very race the vampires fear, is the race from where they were born?"

  - 3 -

  "How in the hell did she get out?"

  Siobhan ran a long fingered hand through her dark hair. It was late—an hour past midnight—and already things had gone from bad to worse. Really worse. She fixed Captain Mike Miller with the hardest stare she could muster. She was hungry—and now she was scared.

  And if there was one thing Siobhan hated—it was being one or both of those things.

  Captain Miller, the temporary replacement for the recently incarcerated Captain Oberon Geld, leaned back in his chair. It creaked beneath him in the small, cramped room he used as an office. Four walls of glass, cheap dark-painted pine, and used blinds. "Look—I'd say we did pretty good. You gave us ten names—all of them working with Oberon on his little blood-letting operation and we caught all of them."

  "All—but one got away," Siobhan held up her hands. "And that one is the worst of the bunch of them. She was Oberon's right-hand woman. Elf. Whatever."

  "Don't you think you're over reacting a little?" Captain Miller leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. He looked a bit run-down in Siobhan's opinion. She wondered when was the last time he'd had a good night's sleep. Catching the culprit responsible for killing elves had proven a huge feather in his cap—but convicting the former police Captain of the crime—well—

  Though a bit of a megalomanic, Geld had held things together and he'd been a damn find detective. Siobhan could vouch for that having worked with him several times. The only snag they might have is if Abyssinian changed his mind and decided not to testify against his brother.

  After the arrest, Aby stated he wouldn't. He would not look upon his brother's face again. The young elf still carried the scar of an iron shackle on his wrist where his own brother had imprisoned him. Iron was poison to Underhill inhabitants. Siobhan could only imagine what sort of pain her partner had endured in Oberon's dungeon—recently uncovered in the basement of his estate.

  It was Aby's own wicked charm that freed him, after he'd bribed one of his brother's mistresses to release him.

  The very Elf that had gotten away.

  Siobhan knew how hard it was to resist that charm—though she'd tried on several occasions. Aby always knew how to get her to do things his way. And I'm the vampire with the glamouring gaze. If only it worked on him. Just once.

  Eventually she had worn Aby down and he'd agreed to testify. But he wasn't happy about it. The court date was in two days. The escape of the last of Oberon's little murder gang was a low blow.

  The elf in question, known only as Silira, had somehow tricked her way out of custody, though the Precinct had assured everyone the wards to hold her magic had been in place. The guard on duty had no memory of her ever being in the cell. Yet, video records showed she'd been brought in along with the last three of Oberon's team.

  And now—nothing.

  "Look, I know you're worried about your boyfriend—"

  "He's not my boyfriend," she interjected. Though—Siobhan wasn't really sure that statement was accurate. Two months ago she'd heard him tell her he loved her, just before he forced her to drink his blood. At the time, with him bleeding to death of what appeared to be a fatal wound, trapped with her in a room open to the rising sun, she'd believed his motive for feeding her elven poison was so that she wouldn't have to suffer being burned to death.

  She'd expected to die.

  But when she'd drank from Aby—the opposite had happened. It had allowed her move in the sun to catch Oberon in the act of searching her mirror store on the Miracle Mile. And he'd made his confession, in a room full of hidden cameras.

  What an arrogant idiot.

  If there was one character flaw Oberon Geld wasn't lacking in, it was hubris.

  "Whatever," Captain Miller said. "If you'd just tell me what it was that the former captain was trying to do by draining UnSeleighe elves of blood—"

  She shook her head and held up a hand. "Look, I really don't know. And I don't know if we'll ever understand his motives. I chalked it up to a long-time rivalry between the two courts."

  "About that," Miller leaned back. "That's something I've never understood. This two courts thing. How can you have two courts with Seleighe and UnSeleighe—and what's the difference? How can Captain Geld be Seleighe and his own brother is UnSeleighe?" He shrugged. "In all the bodies we found so far, how is it that he knew which were which? Is it a mark? Or eye color—though they all have those crazy eyes—or maybe even like hair color? I mean…Abyssinian's hair is a bit—"

  She nodded. "Anime. Yeah, I know. But its natural for him. To answer your question—I don't know. I've never figured that out myself." And she had asked both brothers—Oberon had been her lover a long time ago—as crazy as that sounded. Being in love with a man whose blood could kill you.

  Oberon and Aby had said the same thing. "It's complicated."

  Yeah well…so am I. And there wasn't really an answer she didn't think she couldn't find. But this one was a doozy.

  Was it the blood? She and Aby had talked about his blood's ability—and he'd admitted it didn't matter who drank it—if they were a vampire they'd be able to withstand the day for a short period of time. Usually the span of a normal day of daylight.

  "I'm not worried about Aby's safety—he can take care of himself. Quite accomplished at it as well. What I am worried about are all the other UnSeleighe who have no idea these wackos are after them—and by putting it out there on the news—"

  "I don't see your issue with that. It was a warning."

  "Yeah—and a warning to all the other nut jobs that'll see that and figure, 'oh, if I can get me some UnSeleighe blood, I can sell it for a price.' Obviously there's a run on it."

  Miller looked upset. "I didn't even consider that."

  "No, you didn't. But those are the kind of morons I had to deal with when I was a detective." Siobhan didn't like pulling out the former "Top Detective" card, but damn it, Miller needed to listen to her. "You knock one head off the snake, and in this day and age with magic, twelve more are going to pop up. It's a cosmic game of wac-a-mole."

  He smiled, but he still looked worried. "What do I do?"

  "You kill any more stories about it. One thing the populace can be counted on is having no memory. If it's out of sight, they'll forget about it. But you have to make sure your people keep a low profile on this."

  "Captain!" a uniformed man stepped up to the door. He looked at Siobhan and smiled before he pointed to the Captain's phone. "It's Rechert and Sivalis. They found another body. Elf. Drained of blood."

  Miller closed his eyes and moaned.

  Siobhan watched the uniform step out as the Captain picked up his blinking line. "Miller."

  She listened in on the conversation with her heightened hearing. Not that she was nosy. It just happened. Couldn't be helped.

  "Captain. It's Sivalis. Got a call on a body found in an alley behind Pete's Gourmet. Definitely elven, and it's been drained of blood. And…we got a little problem."

  "You mean other than the dead elf?" Miller avoided Siobhan's eyes.

  "There was a reporter here when we got here. Chicago Sun Tribune. And he's already photographed the body."

  Miller cursed. "Lemme guess. Keith Song."

  Siobhan had to stop herself from cursing aloud so Miller wouldn't know she was listening in. Keith Song. By far the worst of the sensationalist reporters in the city. His website and his affiliate's site were one of the top hits online. If he had the pictures, then he'd already made up his story. She needed to check the sites to see if something had gone up, and then she needed to have a
little talk with Mr. Song.

  But she needed to contact Aby first and have him look at the body. He'd be able to tell if the elf had been UnSeleighe.

  "Is the M.E. there?"

  Yes. So's the bus. Anything you want me to do?

  "Yeah, make sure you don't let any tall, leaf-eat'n red-headed freaks take a look—"

  "Captain—you talk'n about Geld? No. There's been no sign of him. Which is weird since he's showed up at all the other scenes."

  Siobhan turned quickly and looked at Miller. Abyssinian wasn't there? That was odd. The elf had a police scanner—he kept track of everything. And if an elf turned up drained of blood again—

  She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. No texts. No voicemail.

  She was done with the Captain and vanished before he could register he was alone in the office. She moved with an uncanny speed that made her invisible to the human eye. Once she reached her Ducati parked below, Siobhan checked the Tribune's website on her phone—no story up yet—only the promise of a breaking event. She checked Song's website. Nothing there as well—just the same promise.

  After hitting Aby's speed dial, she left him a message to call her. It'd gone straight to voicemail—which either meant he was out of range of her signal, or his phone was off. Or—he was still in Underhill where no cell phone reached.

  Surely he couldn't still be there. Two hours had passed since he'd left her in the park, and returning the child couldn't have taken that long either.

  She adored that elf in so many ways, except for this part of him. This impulsive, self-serving part of him that believed he had to take care of everything himself. And if he knew about Song there a possibility he was already hunting him to retrieve whatever it was the reporter had—

  She donned her helmet, checked traffic and took off in the direction of where she believed Keith Song would be.

  - 4 -

  This was the first Abyssinian had ever heard of this. And he didn't believe it. Assuming this was some fable spun by Thom, he sighed and leaned back against a row of tombs. "Thom—"

  But the changeling held up a hand without looking at Abyssinian. "Listen to me, Son of Calder. This Dark Court worked powerful magic that the elves of what was called the Higher Court couldn't battle, and when the elven King sealed the cairns to the human realm to prevent them from taking any more humans, the Fallen cast this world into a winter of snow and ice.

  "Many of the elves died from illnesses they had never had. Their magicians worked night and day to end the spell over the world. Magic clashed everywhere. It was a year of darkness. A year of suffering. Until finally, a young changeling named Merlin was able to counter the spells by cursing the Dark Court themselves."

  "Merlin?" Abyssinian laughed softly. "You want me to believe that the Merlin was a changeling?"

  "I want you to listen to me, Aby," Thom turned angry eyes to the young prince. "His name was Merlin. That's what the records say. The spell he cast prevented the Dark Court from walking under the light of Underhill without suffering devastating burns and weakness. So they made a truce—they would remove the spell and escape into another realm to claim as their own."

  "Not walk in the sun…" Aby felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Like Vampires. "Thom, what are you saying?"

  "I'm saying the Dark Court did two things underhanded," he turned to Abyssinian. "The realm they escaped to was none other than the human realm—the one realm the King, your father, had forbidden them to enter. The cairns were locked, but somehow they broke the magics. And two…" he sighed. "They were able to cast a secret spell when they lifted the snow."

  "A secret spell?"

  "All of those born in that decade of Winter were…different. It was their eyes at first. Their color became something not in nature as the elves knew it. And they all possessed an uncanny ability with magic. Even in their cribs they changed the shape of things, and many wounded their parents and siblings without knowing what they were doing. The King gathered all these children at the insistence of his advisors and placed them into the abandoned palaces where the Dark Court had lived.

  "The Black Guard was created to make sure these other cursed elven children didn't attack the High Court. Humans were brought in to care for them. Some humans died from the children's wild magic."

  Aby straightened up and stared at Thom.

  "Unfortunately—the king's solution wasn't enough. There were those that believed those children should be destroyed. They were the seeds of the Fallen. This split the Higher Court in two. And they fought amongst themselves." He fixed his gaze on Abyssinian. "The side that wanted the children destroyed called themselves the blessed, or the Seleighe, and they dubbed those that believed otherwise, the UnSeleighe."

  "Thom, this is ridiculous."

  Thom held up his hand. "Listen to me, Aby. Even though the Fallen were gone, the strife and war they instigated in Underhill remained and lasted for nearly a century. In the end, those that defended the children joined them in the fallen cities. The division was made—and has remained till this day."

  "And those original children?"

  "They were called the Winterbourne. Born in the Winter of Underhill. Their children also possessed these powers."

  "And the Fallen? The ones that escaped into the human realm."

  "Most are dead." Thom swept his hand around the room. "And in here are the soldiers sent by your father to kill them. In here he had those who lost their lives fighting them in the human realm. This is how your father died—killing the Fallen."

  "What?"

  "Your brother was his right hand, and continued his work. He built this mausoleum in their memory."

  "My brother?" Aby looked around at the tombs. Was this why this mausoleum had always remained sealed? Because those whose bodies were interned inside had fought their own holy war against the Fallen? "Why—why did my father send elves out to destroy the Fallen? They were gone from Underhill, weren't they? Why pursue them?"

  "Other than the fact they were cruel and wicked and brought corruption on the humans?" Thom looked skeptical. "Because they hurt him, Aby. They hurt your father. Twice. The first was they killed your mother."

  Aby felt his shoulder sag. "W-what?"

  "They dragged her into the Mortal Realm and fed on her."

  "Fed—they drank from her."

  "Drained her."

  "But vampires can't feed on elves—it's poison."

  "The descendants can't. But the Fallen can."

  Aby ran a hand through his hair. "This is madness."

  Thom said. "The Fallen learned they could stave off the pain of their long lives by feeding off of human blood—which of course contains life. And they experimented—making creatures in their own image."

  "Only they're not," Aby guessed. "The vampires we see now—"

  "Are diluted. Weak. Only shadows of the strength and power the Fallen once possessed. When it appeared to Oberon as if they would breed their kind to excessive numbers," he shrugged. "He had them destroyed."

  Abyssinian didn't know what to believe—was this true? Was it really possible vampires descended from elves? "But the vampires have their own lineage—their own history."

  "Of course they do. Created by the Fallen. They had no idea that their elders were actually elves. But the Fallen could drink from the Winterbourne, and did so in order to walk in the day." He took a step forward. "That's why the Winterbourne, the UnSeleighe, vanished. The great exodus? It was orchestrated by the Fallen. They lured them into the Mortal Realm and kept them as cattle—vials of elixir that gave them dominion over the day. That's why Oberon hunted them down. He went after them for the same reason your father did."

  "You said they hurt my father—twice. My mother and—"

  "And you. She had you that year. You were banished to the Dark Court by his own command."

  Aby stared hard at Thom. "Are you saying…I'm a Winterbourne?"

  "You are. In fact, Abyssinian," Thom turned
and faced him. "Your brother found you and killed the ones that took you into the Mortal Realm. You were half dead, but he brought you back here."

  Aby had stood up, no longer leaning against the wall. He took a step toward Thom who didn't flinch or move. "Thom…this is bullshit. I'm not a Winterbourne. I'm not what you think I am."

  But Thom shook his head. "Your eyes give you away. Your very stature and your bearing. Your strong, wild magic. They speak of royalty—because even though you were relegated to the UnSeleighe realm—you were still the King's son. And you were protected."

  "Because supposedly my blood will allow a Fallen to walk in the sun." Aby laughed. He hoped it came out as a confident laugh, and that it conveyed a sense of how ridiculous the idea was. Though he knew part of it was true. Siobhan had walked in the day.

  If Thom even suspected that Abyssinian was aware of his blood's power—

  "Aye," Thom said as he moved closer, his shoulders down, his expression said. "And because we suspect that not just the Fallen, but all of their kith could benefit from your blood. Merlin suspected the Fallen set the spell in motion early on so that it would some how create a cure for the curse he put on them. The Winterbourne were to be their salvation."

  "No. This is ridiculous."

  "Aby—" Thom stepped out. "When Oberon learned some of the Fallen had survived, he sent out the Black Guard to assassinate them. This was years ago. He learned they were searching for UnSeleighe to feed from. They were looking for Winterbourne."

  But Aby was shaking his head. "No—Oberon never told me all of this."

  "He was trying to protect you."

  He moved away from Thom toward the door of the tomb. "I have other matters that I need to see to in the mortal realm. Or has no one told you that someone is killing elves again—even with my brother behind bars?"