Undone Deeds (27 page)

No one would bother Melusine and me—either the police or the locals—in the middle of the night. The tide rode high as I walked along the concrete head of the pier. In the near distance, the mist wall shimmered in the harbor, a cloud of soft light that shifted in shades of blue and gray. Helicopters circled above it, their searchlights scanning for a glimpse of what lay beneath. All sea traffic had been routed out of the inner harbor until someone could figure out whether the mist itself was dangerous or what it hid.

No one had taken credit for the mist, but given that similar oddities had appeared off the coast of Germany, everyone knew it was some kind of defensive measure by Maeve. Another two were in New York and Washington, but the Seelie Court had not responded to inquiries. Maeve liked to operate in secret, and keeping people off-balance—even her theoretical allies—was normal for her.

Down here,
Melusine sent.

A ramp led off the pier to a floating dock in much better condition than the one Murdock and I had had to deal with the other night. Two large fishing boats were tied up, their rise and fall in the slack tide barely perceptible. I checked over my shoulder. The floating docks were considered off-limits. Crossing the owner of a working boat happened once. They were not people to anger. I hopped over the thin chain barring the way. I liked it better down by the boats. I wasn’t visible from the pier, and unless either of the boats had guards, Melusine and I would have privacy.

“Melusine?”

End of the dock,
she sent.

“What’s with the sendings?” I asked.

From what I understand, something about the configuration of my vocal cords in the water only allows the sounds of my native language,
she sent.

I stopped short. If Melusine was in the water, she wasn’t in human
form. I had never seen her in her natural state. “I’m not a big fan of boats.”

A sound like laughter rippled across my mind.
Neither am I. We will need no boat.

I edged toward the water and peered into the darkness. Something moved beneath the surface, wellings of silvery flesh sliding by—and sliding by and sliding by. Melusine wasn’t a merrow. In polite conversation, she was referred to as a mermaid. In reality, in her natural form, she was a huge serpent with a bad temper.

A set of fins coasted by. Despite asking me to meet her, she was using her form to intimidate me. At least, that was what I thought, so maybe I was intimidated. Her silvered length sank deeper beneath the surface, and I lost track of her.

“Melusine?”

The soft slap of water against the boats answered me. A ripple trailed across the water, and Melusine’s head broke the surface. Her face hadn’t changed though it had grown in proportion to her body. At first, she appeared to be a nude woman rising from the water, straight into the air, her pale skin glittering with moisture in the darkness, deep gray aureoles marking almost vestigial breasts. Her hair shivered out in thick dark strands that stood out from her head and flowed down her back. She rose a few feet higher than her waist, revealing a thick swell of dark gray scales. She agitated the water around her, several yards of her tail writhing to keep her afloat.

I have made contact with someone within the mist wall,
she sent.

“How? No one can get in from what I’ve been told,” I said.

Look at me, Connor Grey. I am not “no one.” The wall does not recognize me,
she sent.

Essence barriers were keyed to prevent specific types of essence from passing through. Their level of sophistication depended on the skill and ability of the creator. If someone had never encountered a specific body signature, it wasn’t possible to
defend against it. Melusine took her name from the progenitor of her race. It was within the realm of possibility that she was the original Melusine, which would make her centuries old. In either case, it wasn’t likely that whoever created the mist wall had ever encountered someone like her.

“What does this have to do with the merrow’s death?”

Redemption. I made a mistake thinking Bastian was responsible for the murders. Eorla no longer trusts me, and I would find her trust again.

“It was a pretty big mistake,” I said.

I agree. I strove to uncover the truth, and I found something more. Someone in the mist wall is willing to trade information for gain,
she sent.

“So why tell me?” I asked.

She shifted in the water, her torso sinking so that we were eye to eye.
Eorla will listen to you. Will you help me?

I stared at her face, strangely beautiful in the midst of her ropy hair. I had believed her when she pointed me toward the Consortium because the conclusion had been plausible. Bastian would have killed his own men to save an operation. I moved to the edge of the dock. “Who’s out there, Melusine? I know that mist wall is the work of the Seelie Court. Who would betray Maeve at this late date?”

She leaned closer.
He does not want his name known until you speak. If you do not go, he fears you will reveal him,
she sent.

I knew how these things went. Espionage and counterespionage were delicate games of feints and promises built more on trust than hope. Someone highly placed couldn’t let it be known that he had decided to betray his queen. He would operate through a chain, each link in that chain depending on the strength of the next, risking all yet protecting the whole.

Connor? Time grows short,
Melusine sent.

I nodded. “He’s out there in the mist?”

Melusine leaned down, the scent of the sea washing over me.
He will show you what Maeve is planning.

I didn’t like it. Melusine had been wrong about Bastian. Regaining Eorla’s favor was in her interest, but helping her didn’t seem to be in mine. Going into the mist wall was like entering the lair of the lion, but this lion wouldn’t be sleeping.

“I said I don’t like boats.”

She reached out her hand, the fingers long and tipped with sharp gray talons.
I will bring you personally. My essence will mask your passage.

I decided to believe her. The tides of war always turned on fortune. Maeve had enough enemies in the States. It wasn’t beyond comprehension that she had enemies at Tara—maybe even Ceridwen’s underground opposition.

I took Melusine’s moist hand, hard muscle like wet marble beneath the skin pressing against my palm. Melusine twisted, presenting her back to me. I coiled her hair in my other hand, its texture like bulbous seaweed. Something splashed out in the water, and I paused. “What was that?”

Melusine turned, her head winding on her neck farther than natural.
We must hurry before we are discovered.

I loved her eyes, the glitter in their depths like a promise of home. Their phosphorescent glow assured me that she understood the water like no one else. “I thought I heard something.”

I pulled myself onto her back, my feet finding loose purchase among the strands of hair and fins.

Use your knees to steady yourself,
she sent.

Another noise caught my attention as I adjusted my position. My sensing ability kicked in, and the area glowed with essence, the silky pale green of the water, the blue-white of barnacles and crustaceans embedded in the pilings and dock, and deep emerald streaks coursing under the water—the large streaks of several body signatures. Startled, my grip slipped, my hand slick on her skin. “Melusine!” I said.

She drifted from the dock as my legs lost their purchase.
They are my protectors. Remain calm.

As the gap of water between us and the pier grew, panic and fear
of the water overcame me. I flung myself off her and caught the edge of the floating dock, my fingers clawing at the rough wood as my feet kicked water. The splashing of Melusine recoiling her body filled the air. I was soaked as I pulled myself onto the dock. Down at the other end, a merrow hauled himself half-out of the water, propping himself up with massive hands, his hatchet-shaped face arcing over the dock. I spun back to Melusine. “We’ve got trouble.”

She undulated forward, settling part of her bulk on the dock, her arms held out in supplication.
’Tis nothing, m’love, but the sea and me. Come now, the hour grows late.

My head grew heavy and clouded with a feeling like sleepiness. Melusine smiled down at me, gesturing me forward with her hands. She was so beautiful in the light, her eyes so deep, her voice so sweet. Her fingers curled with a mesmerizing slowness, beckoning me with longing and desire. Her essence wafted over me, a sweet mix of salt and water. I wanted to hold her, wanted her to hold me. Her essence slipped into mine, touching my body essence, and I shivered.

The stone in my mind flared like a punch inside my skull. I hunched forward in pain, falling out of Melusine’s embrace. I stumbled to the dock. It rocked beneath me as Melusine shifted closer.
What’s wrong, m’love? Come to me. I will soothe your cares.

Nausea rippled through me, and I wretched as her true scent reached my nose in a pungent stew of decay. As I lifted my head, I saw another merrow had joined the first, their wild black hair lank around their shoulders. I shook my head, trying to make sense of things. The stone flared again, flushing Melusine’s essence away. Confused, I rolled on my back.

Melusine towered over me, her serpentine body sliding across the deck. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

She didn’t answer but swiped at me with a taloned hand. My body shield activated as I scrambled to my feet. A wave of her
essence enveloped me.
Come, m’love, I will love you forever.

My shield shimmered, deadening the effect of her spell. “Stop it.”

Please, m’love. The conflict to come has one conclusion,
she sent.

“What have you done, Melusine? Who’s out there?” I asked.

She swayed in the water, her undulating motions mesmerizing.
Strength always wins in the end, m’love. Save yourself and come with me.

As she shifted farther onto the dock, shards of her skin flaked off and fluttered to the surface of the water, floating like thin translucent petals. My memory sparked, my druidic recall flashing with the image of Janey Likesmith holding a small plastic bag to the light. She hadn’t recognized the skin cell from beneath the dead merrow’s fingernail. None of us had. We had never seen Melusine in her serpent form. Realization dawned. “You’re working for Maeve.”

I work for my people, m’love. I work for my life. Come, save yourself, m’love. The High Queen can have a forgiving nature for those who lose their way.

Desire welled up within me, desire to make Melusine happy. I wanted to hold her in my arms, feel her lips against mine. I pushed more body essence into my shield, and the desire faded away. “Give it up, Melusine. I’m not buying.”

She must have sensed the collapse of her spell. With a feral screech, she lunged forward. I swung over the railing to the gangway. The metal walkway shuddered and rattled beneath my feet as Melusine grabbed the lower end. She tore it from its moorings as I reached the top and leaped onto the pier.

Cars started up and raced away at the commotion. Melusine was breaking the local noise rules. I waved my arms for the last car, but the driver reversed, squealing its tires against the pavement before it spun in a tight turn and drove off. The parking area was empty.

Melusine screeched again, her head lifting over the edge of the pier. She was too large for the foot ramp and was pulling herself up the pilings. On the opposite end, three merrows climbed over the pier, their pale blue-gray bodies writhing as they fell to the ground. Their heavy tails whipped and coiled, then split. Before their legs had fully formed, they were standing. I didn’t stay to watch the final transition.

I ran for the pier’s processing building. I needed witnesses—lots of them. On the other side, streetwalkers huddled on the long stretch of loading docks. They weren’t likely to help. I made for Old Northern Avenue, the slap of wet feet coming up behind me. I hesitated on the sidewalk. I wasn’t picky about where I would find protection. The Rowes Wharf Hotel and the Tangle were equally distant.

A loud hissing drew my attention. Melusine, in her full serpentine glory, slithered down the Fish Pier. The hotel was less than a mile away. I could do a five-minute mile, faster if I put a burst of essence into it. The last place I wanted to be with a mad fey beast was in the desolate stretch of road between me and the Tangle.

I ran the center line of Old Northern Avenue, cars wailing their horns at me. I tapped my body essence, pushing myself harder. My head sang with pain, the darkness resisting the use of my ability. A glance over my shoulder revealed Melusine gaining on me. I was halfway to the bridge. I wasn’t going to make it.

I ducked down an alley. Yggy’s bar had been a safe haven for the fey for over a century. Heydan, who ran the place, had one main rule of the place: leave animosities and conflicts outside. I doubted a crazed shape-changing serpent would respect the rules under the circumstances, but I hoped at least to find help. I reached the old steel door, dented and scratched with a large Y painted on it. I grabbed the handle and pulled so hard I almost yanked my arm from its socket. The door didn’t budge.

I stared, amazed. Yggy’s was never closed. Ever. Day or night, people knew that one place existed where they could go and take a break from the world. And now it was closed.

I banged on the door. “Heydan!”

A shiver ran over me, like a blanket of cool air. A deep and subtle essence filled the air, and Heydan appeared beside me as if he had been there all along. I didn’t understand how he did that. He was a giant of a man, a unique fey with no peers that I knew of. Bony ridges beneath his skin curled from his temples and around his ears to the back of his bald head. A light glimmered in his deep-set eyes.

“I need help, Heydan. Melusine’s gone crazy,” I said.

“I am Heydan. I watch and wait,” he said.

I had no idea what that meant. “Listen to me, Heydan, Melusine….”

The rip of metal filled the air, and a car tumbled across the end of the alley. People ran screaming along the street.