“That doesn’t give us much time for socializing,” said Simon. “I was hoping to visit a bit with the nymphs.”
“Control your base instincts, faerie,” declared Cassandra, an edge to her voice. “There’s a proper time and place for all things, but tonight is definitely not the night for carnal pleasures.”
“I can’t help being true to my nature,” said Simon. “Like my friend Willy once said, ‘The fault, dear Cassandra, lies not in the stars, but in ourselves.’ It’s as true for supernatural as it is for humans. More so, actually.”
“You constantly refer to Shakespeare,” said Jack, seeking to stop the two from arguing. “You really knew him? In the flesh?”
“Certainly,” said Simon, sounding quite smug. “We Goodfellows were very close with the Bard of Avon.”
He raised a fist with his first and second fingers upright and pressed tightly together, “Willy and me,” he declared. “Friends forever. I taught him everything he knew about the fey folk.”
“Everything?” repeated Sylvester unexpectedly. The cat reared up on all four legs and looked Simon directly in the eyes. “That’s not what I heard.”
“Well, perhaps I exaggerated a mite,” said the changeling hastily. “Puck was on slightly better terms with Mr. Shakespeare than I.”
“Oh,” said Cassandra, chuckling. “How quickly the tune changes. Now, it’s Mr. Shakespeare. Did you really meet him, Simon? Truthfully.”
“I swear it,” said Simon. “My cousin, Robin, provided the playwright with information for several of his productions. You know the ones. Anyway, Puck took me along several times to the shows. Afterward, Shakespeare always asked us our honest opinion of the work. A true craftsman, he valued a straightforward answer. Which is what we gave him.”
“Hazel liked Shakespeare, too,” said Sylvester. “The old girl loved Macbeth. She quoted the three witches’ lines for weeks. ‘Double double, toil and trouble,’ and so on, endlessly repeated, until I started going crazy.” He rolled his green eyes. “And it takes a lot to undermine a cat’s patience.”
“Wait a minute,” said Jack. “In all the fantasy novels I read, the supernatural characters try extremely hard to stay out of the limelight. They shun famous people and never, ever interfere with human affairs. The last thing any of them want to do is attract attention. That’s not what I’m hearing from you guys.”
“That’s because we’re real and not made up,” said Simon. “Don’t make the mistake and think we hobnob with every celebrity who comes along. Or that we reveal our true nature other than to a few trustworthy souls like yourself. That would be stupid. But we enjoy mingling with the best and brightest. Your race created us with those desires. It’s in our blood. If we wanted to hide in the woods out of sight, we wouldn’t have worked so hard learning how to blend in with mankind.”
“Don’t forget that over the centuries, we’ve become experts at masquerading as normal humans,” said Cassandra. “I’ve taught six different movie stars self-defense. Simon’s studied with three Pulitzer Prize winners. None of them guessed our secret. Combine our talent with modern man’s skepticism of anything he can’t taste, touch or feel, and we’re home free. The world is filled with magic, Jack. You humans just refuse to admit it.”
“Watch the Grammy awards now that you’re able to spot auras,” said Simon. “You might be surprised.”
“Better yet,” said Sylvester, “turn on MTV.”
“Enough chatter,” said Cassandra, a hard edge back in her voice. “There’s the mall up ahead. Jack, you and Simon get ready. I’ll drop you off at the same door as yesterday. From what you told me, it’s the closest one to the nymphs’ oasis. When you’ve finished talking to Jan, return there and I’ll pick you up. If there’s any sign of trouble, I’ll send Sylvester into the mall with a warning. Got it?”
“Got it,” said Jack. He peered out the car window. “It looks pretty quiet out there.”
“The exact same words King Priam uttered while his people pulled the wooden horse into Troy,” said Cassandra.
“How cheering,” said Jack, and then they were there.
Doors opened, and he and Simon headed for the entrance to the mall. As the Buick disappeared into the darkness, Jack’s hands unconsciously clenched into fists. A premonition of impending danger raced through his mind. He had a feeling that things were not going to proceed as planned tonight. Which, on a moment’s reflection, seemed to be the story of his life lately.
30
January’s long tangled hair was white as snow, and her deep eyes were an icy blue. Tall and busty, she looked more like a Norse goddess than a Greek nymph. But she was anything but frigid in her greeting, insisting on a very long, lingering kiss with both Simon and Jack.
“Humans express their desires so much better than the fey folk,” she explained, reluctantly releasing Jack from her embrace. “Kissing you is a tremendously rewarding experience.”
“Glad to oblige,” said Jack, trying to catch his breath. “The feeling is mutual.”
Fortunately for his presence of mind, all of the mall nymphs were fully dressed tonight, though their skin-tight skirts and stretch knit tops left little to the imagination. Jack wasn’t sure if the girls looked sexier with clothes or without them.
“Cassandra’s waiting at the car, Jack,” declared Simon impatiently, catching Jack completely by surprise. Simon was the last one he expected to be in a hurry. Then he realized the changeling was only being true to his nature. Closing his mind to temptation, Jack concentrated on their reason for seeing the nymphs.
“May thought you heard von Bern drop a hint where his hideout is located,” said Jack. “I need to find the place. Fast. Can you help?”
January nodded. “The girls told me the whole story. I’m glad to cooperate. Human sacrifice is so… uncivilized.”
She paused for a second, drawing in a deep breath and setting Jack’s pulse racing. “Dietrich was bragging how powerful he was going to become once the ceremony took place. According to him, the Old One promised that he would have complete control over Chicago and all the Midwest.
“I remember thinking to myself that that would make life here in the mall insufferable when he launched into this long tirade about how incredibly stupid you humans were. Since that’s one of his favorite themes, I tuned out most of what he was saying. However, one line stayed with me. The Huntsman was mocking the police. I remember his exact words. He said, ‘The fools hunt desperately throughout the city for my captives, while all along the ones they seek are right beneath their feet.’ Then, he changed the subject and never mentioned the women again. Does it make any sense to you?”
Jack frowned. “Not instantly. His headquarters can’t be located in the subway system. All of the tunnels are in use. None of them have been abandoned. Maybe he’s using the basement of an old warehouse?”
A stray thought about tunnels tickled his consciousness. Jack recalled his conversation with the taxi driver a few centuries ago. The cabbie mentioned that all of the women who vanished had disappeared from the buildings in the Loop. Again, the notion touched a strand of memory. Anxiously, he tried to wrestle the notion to the surface.
“Underground tunnels,” he muttered, eyes closed tightly shut as he concentrated. “Tunnels. Passageways. Corridors. Beneath the Loop corridors. Old railway tunnels …”