The Shifting Price of Prey (39 page)

I’d asked her once what happened to her clothes when she was a dog; she’d shrugged, saying whatever she was wearing just went away, and then came back again, and wasn’t that
what happened with everyone?

I squashed a pang of envy. So what if she could change into a dog, and back again, complete with magically reappearing clothes, without breaking a sweat, despite the fact she was a faeling, not
a full-blood fae, with a mix of sidhe, fae, vamp and human blood. Much like myself, who couldn’t do anything with magic other than
crack
it,
absorb
it like some freaky
sponge, or use it ready-made, and who didn’t even get to keep the cool vamp powers. I wasn’t jealous of
her
, exactly, but maybe of her and everyone else’s abilities. And
I had to wonder why she, an eight-year-old kid who was sort of my niece, ended up with magic powers and I didn’t.

Freya clenched her hands into fists. ‘Granddad Max didn’t do the things you said! You’ve got to look for him! He’s in trouble!’

‘W
hat makes you think Granddad Max’s in trouble?’ Hugh asked, his gravelly voice matching his stony expression.

‘Because he was scared!’
So there!
She didn’t say it but she didn’t have to. It was in the jut of her chin.

‘Scared of what, Freya?’

‘The werewolves, of course.’

I leaned forwards. ‘Did Granddad Max tell you they were werewolves?’

She pulled a face. ‘No. I heard you all talking. Granddad Max couldn’t tell me what they were.’

‘You mean he didn’t tell you,’ I said.

‘No, Aunty. I mean he couldn’t.’ She huffed. ‘I asked him. That’s what he told me.’

‘Freya,’ I said gently, ‘just because he told you he couldn’t, doesn’t mean he didn’t know.’

‘It does! Granddad Max doesn’t tell lies. Or not much to me anyway. I can tell.’

Nice qualification!

Hugh leaned forward with interest ‘How can you tell?’

She sniffed in an attempt to play it cool, but her blue eyes sparked with excitement now she had our full attention. ‘I can smell when he lies, like I can smell when the girls at school
lie too. And when Mum does; lies smell like burned toast.’ She folded her arms, daring us to not believe her. ‘And I can smell when they’re scared.’ She wrinkled her nose.
‘That smells like dead fish.’

News to me. I wondered if her senses were better because of her dog shape, her vamp genes, or both. I patted the stone rim of the fountain next to me. Freya gave me a wary look, obviously
wondering if sitting would commit her to something she didn’t want, so I raised my brows. She glowered and plonked herself down.

‘Okay,’ I said, bumping her shoulder gently with mine. ‘I get that Granddad Max was scared, but if he didn’t know who was coming, how did he know to be frightened of
them?’

‘He had a dream about it. It woke him up.’

Dreams. Right. ‘What sort of dream?’

She shrugged. ‘He didn’t tell me. Just said he knew they were coming for you, and he had to warn you.’

‘Then why the h—eck didn’t he tell me that,’ I asked, feeling another urge to wring Granddad Max’s neck.

‘He didn’t know where you were, did he? That’s why he got me to phone you.’

‘Why didn’t he phone Genny himself?’ Hugh asked.

She gave him a scornful look. ‘Duh. He’s a dog. Dogs can’t use phones, can they?’

Duh indeed. ‘So why couldn’t you have told me that when I first asked you?’ I asked.

‘Granddad Max said I had to stay furry ’cos it’s easier to run away with four legs instead of two.’ She rolled her eyes to show what she thought of that idea. Not a lot.
‘And when I’m furry I don’t smell so much like you. He didn’t want them getting me by mistake.’

I frowned. ‘You smell like me?’

‘I drink your blood every day, don’t I?’

Duh again.

‘Granddad Max said the less we told you, the quicker you’d get here. And that he couldn’t guard you till you were here.’

‘Max wanted to guard me?’ Surprise sparked in me. Then I got it. The last text Malik had sent me. When the irritating vamp had dumped me. He’d said:
Maxim is tasked to put
your needs above all others, including himself
.

I looked at Hugh. ‘She’s right. He was trying to protect me.’

‘I told you he was,’ Freya grumbled.

I gave her a hug. ‘I know you did, thank you.’

‘So you’re gonna look for him, aren’t you?’ she said suspiciously. ‘Now I’ve told you everything?’

I nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Even though you said you wouldn’t?’

‘I said we wouldn’t if he was helping the baddies.’ Which it didn’t seem he was.

‘We’ll make sure he’s looked for, don’t you worry.’ Hugh smiled at Freya. ‘So lies smell like burned toast, fear smells like dead fish, is there anything else
you’ve picked up that might help us?’

She gave him a look from under her lashes. ‘When people have sex it smells like coconuts.’

Hugh’s mouth opened, then closed again. His ruddy cheeks coloured with embarrassed heat.

‘Behave,’ I muttered. ‘Hugh was asking if you’d smelled anything today that might help us find Granddad Max, like if you caught any of the baddies’
scents?’

She looked out over the square, her nose twitching. ‘The bird that dropped the Snake spell smelled like Uncle Jack.’

‘Uncle Jack?’ Hugh asked, just as a woman’s voice shouted, ‘Freya!’

I jerked my head up. Ana was rushing towards us as fast as her huge baby-bump would let her. Despite her hurried waddle, she looked cool and elegant in a sleeveless dress, her pale blonde hair
falling in a sleek waterfall to her hips. Relief filled me at the sight of her, despite her elegance making me feel hot, dusty and in need of a shower. But then she hadn’t spent the morning
getting up close and personal with the floor at the zoo, followed by a tussle with a rose-wielding Werewolf Guy and a snake-spitting hawk.

‘Mum,’ Freya shouted loud enough for the whole square to hear, ‘Granddad Max’s been kidnapped.’

Of course, I’d rather do all that over again than have to deal with an obviously frantic, ready-to-pop-any-day-now, desperately angry Ana.

She sank into a crouch in front of Freya, pulling her daughter to her protectively. ‘Are you all right?’ she said, patting the squirming Freya.

‘She’s fine,’ I said soothingly.

Ana shot me a frightened, furious look. ‘Why was Maxim here, Genny? You know he’s not to come anywhere near Freya.’

As I opened my mouth to try and explain, Hugh said gently, ‘Ms Fossel, perhaps we could have a word?’ He rose to his feet.
Thanks, Hugh
, I thought, grateful.
‘I’m sure you could use a nice cup of tea,’ Hugh rumbled quietly, indicating the café. ‘Shall we?’

She looked as if she were going to object, then rose and clutched Freya’s hand. ‘If you insist, Inspector.’ She jabbed a shaking finger at me. ‘And you, keep Maxim away
from my daughter.’

‘Muuum?’ Freya wailed. ‘Granddad Max is in trouble!’

‘Maxim can look after himself.’ She pulled on Freya’s hand and turned.

I watched them walk to the café, understanding why Ana was angry – the vamps had tortured and killed her mother (my half-sister) and she was terrified they’d do the same to
her and Freya. Still, it hurt she blamed me instead of Mad Max, her vamp father; he was the one who’d got Freya involved.

Suddenly, Freya pulled free and ran back to me. ‘Mum smells of coconuts,’ she whispered. Then she was gone, disappearing into the café, along with a telling-off from her
mum.

Bemused, I propped my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands. Ana smelled of coconuts? Ana had been having sex?
That’s
why she hadn’t been here, and why she hadn’t
answered her phone. But why would Freya tell me? Did it have something to do with finding her Granddad Max, or was she just trying to embarrass her mother because she was angry with her. And who
was Ana having sex with anyway? Was sex even advisable in her hugely pregnant state?

Mary sat next to me. ‘So that’s Andrea, she’s your what? Second cousin or something?’

‘Niece is easier,’ I murmured. ‘And she’s decided she wants to be called Freya now. It’s her middle name.’

‘’K,’ Mary acknowledged. ‘She looks a nice kid. Nine, isn’t she?’

‘Not till September.’

‘Nearly the same age as my Emily. They’re all about pushing boundaries at that age.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, and telling you how their friends’ mothers do everything so
much better than you do. It makes life difficult.’

‘Yeah, I s’pect it does.’

She patted my shoulder. ‘Ana’s just scared, Genny, so she’s opted to kill the messenger.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ I said. ‘So at what point can’t you have sex if you’re pregnant?’

Her brown eyes widened. ‘Interesting change of subject.’ She cut a look to the café, then said, ‘Sex is possible right up to birth, if you’re careful, and if you
feel like it. Some even have sex as a way to start labour. Me, I ballooned to the size of an elephant as soon as I hit my third trimester, and Emily spent most of her time dancing pointe on my
bladder. Sexy, it was not.’ She shrugged. ‘But everyone’s different.’

Freya was telling the truth about her mum, not that I’d doubted her, but she could’ve been mistaken. ‘Thanks,’ I said.

‘Think it’s important?’

‘To do with the werewolves and them taking Mad Max? Doubt it, but you never know.’

‘Well, I know something that is important.’ Excitement laced Mary’s voice and she showed me her phone. The screen had a shot of a gold coin.

I held my own gold coin in its plastic evidence bag to the screen. The coins could’ve been twins. ‘Snap.’

She laughed. ‘So, you want to guess, or shall I tell you?’

I sat straighter, heart pounding. Hugh’s comment about the gold coin being thrown at Mad Max as payment of some kind came back to me. ‘The Bangladeshi ambassador sent it to
you,’ I said slowly. ‘It was given to him by the werewolves the other night at the mosque in some sort of exchange for his wife and kid.’

‘Yes. He’s just come through with the info. Knew you’d get it!’ Mary shot a finger at where Dessa was leaning against her cop car, mouthing, ‘You owe me.’
Dessa pulled a face. Mary turned back to me. ‘The ambassador hasn’t opened up about anything else, though, like whether he knew they were werewolves, or what the coin means. But with
your gold coin, at least we have corroborating evidence that the two cases are connected, and that his wife and kid, and the zoo employee, were taken by werewolves, presumably the Emperor’s.
And here’s the other interesting thing’ – her expression said she was on a roll – ‘guess what else the square here has in common with the crime scene at the
zoo?’

‘Easy,’ I said, smiling. ‘It’s been cleaned of magic in exactly the same way.’

‘Spoilsport.’ She gave Dessa a half-hearted thumbs-down making the cornrowed WPC grin happily. Mary huffed and whipped out her notebook. ‘C’mon then, how do you
know?’

‘The hawk did it,’ I said. ‘In the square. With the magical green ribbon snake.’

‘Ha ha. Very funny.’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, and it’s a Booted Eagle not a hawk. The square’s bird warden ID’d it.’

An eagle? Well, it went with the whole Roman imperial theme.

Mary waved her notebook under my nose. ‘Specifics, please.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Well, Freya said that the bird smelled like her Uncle Jack. Jack is one of the Morrígan’s ravens. He’s also a changeling. Ergo, the eagle is
also changeling. Changelings are human babies raised by the sidhe in the Fair Lands and given sidhe magic. So the eagle changeling used sidhe spells in the kidnaps, and that’s why the zoo,
and here, look like a sidhe’s cleaned up all the magic.’

Mary fingers whitened where she gripped her pen then she gave me a not so friendly look. ‘You know,’ she said quietly, ‘that’s the one thing all us witches fear about our
babies, that we’ll wake up to find them stolen. Taken to be a changeling. And all we’re left with is a stupid
ùmaidh
.’

Stupid was right, since
ùmaidh
means dolt or dim-witted. But then most
ùmaidhs
were made from something inanimate like a fresh cut log, or the longer lived ones
from animals – I’d heard piglets were a favourite – so anything more than basic sentience wasn’t part of the spell.

I touched Mary’s arm. ‘Won’t happen. For one to make an
ùmaidh
, the sidhe would have to offer up a chunk of flesh and sever part of their soul. It’s a big
sacrifice to make for something that’s only going to live for a couple of weeks at the most.’

Mary’s mouth twisted. ‘Yes, I know, but they’d get the stolen baby in exchange.’

True. Only if a sidhe really wanted to steal a baby they’d be more likely to leave a Glamoured sprite behind than an
ùmaidh
. Way easier. But I didn’t tell Mary that.
And really she didn’t need to worry anyway. I did tell her that.

‘Reason being,’ I carried on, ‘the sidhe have agreed not to steal any kids from London. They can only take them with the mother’s agreement.’ Grianne, my faerie
dogmother, had told me that little gem, back when I’d accused my sidhe queen grandmother, Clíona (through Grianne), of stealing Freya’s Uncle Jack when
he’d
been a
baby. ‘Well’ – I added the proviso Grianne had also told me – ‘they can’t so long as there’s a queen on the British throne. Which there is now. It’s
an old agreement going back to Boadicea.’