Under the Bridge (9 page)

Billy shook off the comment and focused on
her problem. “I need to see the murder scene. I need to know how
Carrie died.” This was her fault; she needed to do what she could
to bring the killer to justice.

No one spoke up right away. Finally, Eyrnie
offered, “There’s nothing you can do, hon. She’s gone. Besides, I
doubt there’s much you can learn from the crime scene; they’ve
moved the body, collected the evidence. There won’t be anything
there.”

She turned a look on him, knowing her eyes
glowed like twin stars. She could feel the cold power rise in her,
seeking an outlet.

He stiffened. “All right. I’ll drive.”

10. Smells Like Blood

Billy shifted uncomfortably. Crammed in
Eyrnie’s truck between him and the troll, she wanted to crawl out
the window and ride on the roof. Ash took up more than his share of
the seat, though he wasn’t touching her. She needed air, but he’d
picked up her bike and stuck it in the back of Eyrnie’s truck like
a child would lift a plastic toy. She’d wanted to ride, but had
been overruled.

It was probably for the best. The adrenaline
dump left her shaky; she was too distracted to be a safe
driver.

Maura’s sword had been carelessly tossed
behind the truck seat. In the closed cab, she smelled a noxious
poison on the blade and struggled to control her stomach. Maura
hadn’t been taking chances with her demise.

“You keep sighing,” Ash pointed out. “It
annoys me.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Eyrnie groused. “I
was against it.”

“But you think I’m a killer. Best to keep me
in sight,” Ash said with creeping menace. Eyrnie had made it was
clear that he didn’t trust him yet, but the possessive way the
pooka hovered around Billy made his motives suspect.

She didn’t want to think about it. Her head
was throbbing with a nasty headache, and guilt was gnawing her
bones. “Stop it!” Billy snapped. “I didn’t ask either of you to
come. At this point, I’d have been better off chancing the bike.”
She wanted action, and was willing to pick a fight to get it.

No one apologized, but the men proceed to
ignore each other.

It wasn’t a long drive to the lake. Maura
hadn’t said exactly where Carrie had been killed, but Eyrnie had
made some calls, and the fae grapevine knew. He pulled into the
parking lot and pocketed the keys. “She was found off to the right,
just past the playground.”

Ash stepped out of the truck and took a deep
breath. “Smells like blood,” he said appreciatively.

Billy sent him an aggrieved look and brushed
past, pretending he wasn’t giving her the willies. “Track it down,”
she muttered. A storm was blowing in and the lake was deserted. She
could see flashes of lightning a few miles out.

Eyrnie also had his nose to the wind, but he
let Ash lead the way. She didn’t blame him. Better not to let an
enemy guard your rear.

Ash led the way down past the trees and to
the water’s edge. There was nothing obvious at first glance; lots
of footprints and shovel marks.

“They dug up the bloodstained sand for
evidence,” Eyrnie guessed, looking around. “There’s still plenty of
death smell, though.”

“Show me where it’s strongest. I want to know
where the body lay.”

“Here,” Ash said, walking over to a spot
nearer the trees. He indicated a tree. “Look at the damage here;
they chipped off some of this bark, probably for evidence. She was
flung at this and fell. They shoveled up the earth for evidence,
too.” He smirked at Eyrnie’s suspicious look. “I’m the better
hunter.”

Billy sighed at their posturing and moved
closer. She studied the ground and the tree and knelt to grasp a
handful of dirt. Softly, she spoke in the Old Tongue. “Show me what
happened.” She flung the dirt into the air.

Everything stilled. The dirt hung in the air,
motionless and then separated into two parts. Some of it swirled
into the air, and the second half drifted down to form a thin
outline of Carrie’s remains.

Billy took a shuddering breath. She could
understand Maura’s mad grief better now. Carrie’s jaw had been
pried open and dangled, held on only by a strip of flesh. Her ribs
poked up where the chest cavity had been pried apart. Her hands
looked shredded, and one leg was bent in an unnatural angle.

Billy's gorge rose. If Maura had seen
this….

“Took the heart and tongue,” Ash observed
with interest. “Looks like the liver’s still there, so maybe they
weren’t just after the delicacies.”

There was a click as Eyrnie took a picture.
“At least we have proof she
had
a heart.”

Billy shot him an angry look.

Eyrnie raised the camera in apology. “Sorry.
Evidence.” He didn't apologize for the comment, but he did raise it
to take pictures of the dust form that hung in the air above
Carrie.

Billy tore her eyes away from the corpse long
enough to see what he was looking at. She drew a sharp breath. “A
banshee? Is that what that is?” She'd seen pictures, but had never
met one in the flesh.

The dust shrouded the outline of a woman who
hung in midair. Her clothes fluttered in rags around her
decomposing body, gaping to show where the occasional bone peeked
through rotting flesh. An unseen wind stirred her hair and rags as
her hands extended into claws...claws that gripped a human heart
and tongue.

* * *

Eyrnie glanced at her worriedly as they
pulled into her driveway. “You're not going to throw up again, are
you?”

Billy closed her eyes. She was light-headed
with guilt and stress, actually leaning against Ash, her head on
his shoulder. She didn't have much choice if she wanted to stay
upright. She hadn't cried, though, and she felt stronger than she
had when they'd packed her in the truck. “Nothing left,” she
assured him softly. The truck stopped, and she stared at the rain
snaking down the windshield. She had to get out, but didn't want to
move.

Eyrnie tapped a finger on the steering wheel.
“I could stay for a while. You don't have to be alone.”

She stirred to tell him she was fine, but Ash
made a scornful sound and opened the door. “Of course we stay. I'm
starved.”

She looked at him in annoyance, but slid out
of the truck. She had to save her poor, unsuspecting fridge.

Ash waited impatiently while she unlocked the
wards, somehow giving the impression that he could have done it
faster himself. She might have thought twice about letting a troll
into her home, but she doubted she could stop him if he were
determined.

It was probably best not to allow a hungry
troll to roam the town; no telling who would end up as lunch.

She felt crowded as she led the way into the
kitchen, and finally gestured to the fridge as she got out of his
way. “Help yourself,” she said with chilly sarcasm. He promptly
buried his head in the fridge.

Eyrnie stood in the kitchen, looking ill at
ease. “I haven't been here since your Gran...er, mom was here. You
never did tell me what happened to her.”

Busy watching Ash take a bowl of eggs and
assorted veggies from the fridge, Billy answered with an absent
frown. Was the troll actually going to
cook
? “She's napping
in a tree at the moment. I'm hoping she'll be in a better mood when
she wakes up.”

When he just stared at her, she said
defensively, “You weren't there.”

He snorted and took a seat at the table. “So
clue me in.”

She ran a hand through her hair and reached
for the teapot in reflex.

Ash nearly bit off her hand. “I'm cooking
here!”

She jerked her hand back defensively. “I need
the kettle! Besides, it's my kitchen.”

His eyes narrowed, glinting yellow. “Never
argue with a troll about food.”

It had been an awful day. Billy was feeling
mentally bruised, certainly not up to pushy company, but she knew
better than to challenge the hunger in his eyes. His movements
spoke of barely controlled violence, and his warning held real
menace.

He might be old, with control gained over
centuries, but he was still a troll. His natural food was human,
and he'd been exposed to blood and death. The frenzy he must be
fighting could boil over at any moment. Best to leave him be.

He relaxed a little when she averted her
eyes. After a moment, he added grudgingly, “I'll heat the
water.”

“Big of you,” she muttered, and yelped as his
egg-crusted wooden spoon whacked her bottom. It wasn't gentle,
either.

“Quit while you can,” he advised, and Eyrnie
choked on a laugh.

She snarled at both of them, then headed to
the pantry and plucked a jar of tea off the shelf. She ought to
poison the monsters.

Eyrnie eyed the tea as she spooned it into
the teapot. Maybe he knew something of her thoughts, for his tone
was respectful when he suggested, “You were telling me about your
mom.”

She sighed in aggravation, but accepted the
redirect. It was marginally better than dwelling on her
aggravation. “She tried to force me to hook up with a fae sperm
donor. I nearly killed him and locked her in a tree.” She shot him
a defensive look. “They didn't give me a choice.”

“He tried to rape you?” Eyrnie demanded,
aghast.

“He tried to stop me from leaving the Wood.
He was pretty clear about what would happen after,” she clarified,
carefully setting the pot on the table. She took a seat, feeling
tired.

Eyrnie seemed stunned. “Your mom was okay
with that?”

She put her hands behind her neck and arched
to relieve the tension the memories brought. What she wanted to do
was smash something. “It was her idea. I wasn't cooperating.
Children are
treasures
,” she said, baring her teeth. “She
wanted more with king's blood.”

Eyrnie was silent as he digested that.
Ignoring them both, Ash poured hot water into the teapot, letting
it steep.

“Well, good for you,” Eyrnie finally offered.
Carefully, he added, “I imagine she'll be ticked when she
eventually gets out of there, though; that kind of magic doesn't
last forever. What are you going to do when she comes back?”

She'd been trying not to think about that.
She wasn’t going to give up her freedom, but it might cost her.
“Depends on what she does. I won't let her take me back. If she
brings another “suitor” with her, if they try to force the issue
again...I will kill him. If she lets me, I'll try to lock her up
again.” She'd managed it the last time only because she'd surprised
her mom. She might not be so lucky the next time.

Eyrnie watched her gravely. “You need to keep
your friends close, then. It would be better if one of us takes
care of this.”

She looked away, out the window, and waved
her hand at the kitchen. “You're already invading my house.” The
smells from the stove were becoming mouth-watering. Despite
herself, she glanced in the troll’s direction. He'd ignored their
conversation, seemly intent on the food.

It hit her at odd moments, the beauty of his
glamour. He was quite a specimen as a human, and she wondered idly
if other trolls thought he was hot. Of course, such things were
rather fluid with a fae. He could stay in human form for a hundred
years and no one would guess what he truly was. Save for his
unnatural strength, he would be all man to a woman's senses.

Grimacing at the direction of her thoughts,
she looked away. “We should set the table.”

“I'll get it.” Eyrnie had been here many
times and knew where everything was stored. Robbed of something to
do, she sat and stared at her empty teacup until Ash put a plate of
food in front of her.

“I'm not really—” she broke off at the look
on his face. Grudgingly, she picked up her fork. The troll was a
tyrant in the kitchen, but his food surprised her. “Oh. Hey! What
is this?” She couldn't believe he'd coaxed so many flavors out of
the ingredients in her cupboards.

“Mm. Good,” Eyrnie said, shoveling in his own
food. As an afterthought, he poured everyone a cup of tea.
Apparently, Ash was okay this that much involvement in the food
prep.

“Just eat,” Ash said, devouring his own giant
helping with an almost savage focus. If it had been a live steer,
it would have been torn to shreds and gulped, still mooing.

Billy was still feeling angry, unsettled, and
she felt like needling him. Watching him out of the corner of her
eye, she said to Eyrnie, “Don't pester him when he's eating. A
troll's hunger is his curse; they're mean until they're sated.”

Ash lifted his head. His eyes were glazed,
more monster than man. There was a chilling heartbeat when he
looked at her and she could swear all he saw was meat. The short
hairs on her arms rose, and she tensed to move fast.

He blinked and refocused on his plate. After
a moment he shoved a bite in his mouth. He seemed okay again.

Billy released a quiet breath, trying not to
draw his attention. A glance at Eyrnie showed the same release of
tension. She was going to have to be careful about whom she
teased.

She managed a few more bites, but her heart
wasn't in it. The tension had returned, reminding her of why they
were here. At least now she knew what had killed Carrie. What she
wondered was, “Why did the banshee choose Carrie?”

“Could have been coincidence.” Ash looked
over and confiscated her plate, finishing that, too.

“No way,” Eyrnie said flatly. “Two
heavy-hitting fae show up within days of each other? Trolls and
banshees aren't known to cross lightly into the human realm. It's
uncomfortable in this world of iron.”

“Your sire and dam managed it,” Ash said
coolly. He didn't seem too offended. He was eating from the pan
now, hopefully filling the corners.

“They were motivated. Besides, they escape to
the dream realm every night.” His dam had been promised to another
stallion, but once Eyrnie's sire had laid eyes on her, there had
been no other for them. He'd battled for her and won, but the
defeated suitor’s powerful family had forced them from the fae
realm. They never complained, but there were definitely
difficulties for those who were born Underhill in coping with the
human world. Like Billy, Eyrnie was much more adapted to this world
than theirs.