“A woman’s dead. That feels like an extreme form of being taking advantage of to me,” Murdock said.
His annoyance didn’t bother her. She reached over and collected more shellfish. “Don’t mistake my pragmatism with callousness, Detective. I’m not indifferent. An investigation will be done. The difference is that neither of us will be privy to it. Now, that might bother you, but it does not bother me. Who does the job is irrelevant to me. You sure you won’t have something to eat? These oysters are from Wellfleet.”
At that point, I couldn’t resist. Wellfleet oysters were among the best in the world. Living near the clam beds on the cape was one of the advantages of life in Boston. I put a dash of hot sauce on the nearest shucked one and ate it. I held the bottle out to Murdock, but he shook his head.
I tossed the empty shell into a bowl provided for discards. “Does Eorla have anything to do with your lack of interest?”
“Why would she?” she asked.
“Well, she’s moved into your territory. Solitaries are looking to her for leadership,” I said.
Melusine watched the other patrons splashing in the pool. “Anyone who protects us is an ally, Connor. I do my part, and Eorla does hers. We’re not competitors.”
I wiped my hands on a cloth napkin. “Sorry. I had to ask.”
She smiled as we stood. “No offense taken. Say hello to Bastian for me.”
I laughed and shook her hand. “I’m glad we met.”
Outside, full dark had come down on the Tangle. Murdock and I didn’t speak until we were a block away. “That is one smart lady,” I said.
“Well, talking to Bastian Frye is our next logical step,” he said.
“‘Our’?” I asked.
“It’s my case until it’s not,” he said. He withdrew his phone from his pocket and read the screen. Smiling, he put it away. “That didn’t take long. Janey texted me that the Consortium picked up the merrow’s body.”
“And that makes you smile?” I couldn’t resist.
“She made a joke,” he said.
“So…. you and Janey,” I said.
“Yep,” he said.
“You didn’t say anything,” I said.
We reached his car, and he opened the door. “Nope.”
“Aaand, I’m not going to get anything out of you now,” I said.
“Nope.”
I let it pass. It wasn’t any of my business, but it did surprise me, considering Janey was as fey as they come. I wasn’t sure how well received she was going to be at Sunday dinner in Southie.
“I’m still curious about the merrow. You?” he asked.
“I have a few other questions for Bastian myself,” I said.
“I can’t believe you ate that oyster,” he said.
“Come on, Leo. She gave us information. I was being polite,” I said.
He shuddered and grimaced. “No, I mean ick, man. Raw ick.”
19
The boat sliced through the water without a sound. I wasn’t fond of water travel, but visiting Eorla had become complicated. Old Northern Avenue had become a shooting gallery, and I had become the big prize. A little nausea was better than a lot of bullets. Melusine had offered the services of a merrow to tow me across the channel. He kept underwater, his white skin a ripple beneath the surface. As bodyguards went, I couldn’t ask for someone tougher and scarier.
In the bow, a kobold hunched, his flat, suspicious face intent on the dock behind the Rowes Wharf Hotel. Apparently, everybody thought I needed some bad-ass protection. Kobolds were another species of fey it wasn’t a good idea to get on the wrong side of. Prone to anger and poor impulse control, they liked to make their points physically more often than verbally. The kobold didn’t offer his name. I’d probably never see him again.
I couldn’t walk across the Old Northern Avenue bridge without official sanction at the moment. Too much hysteria—a lot of it promoted through the Guild by Ryan macGoren—made anything as controversial as walking the street difficult for me. When Eorla sent word that she needed to see me, she made the clandestine arrangements.
I clutched the gunwales. Boats were not my favorite mode of transportation. I crouched on the little seat and stared into the damp bottom of the boat. I kept my hood pulled far down over my eyes, as much to avoid seeing the bobbing dock ahead as to hide my face.
Midway through the channel, my stomach calmed enough for me to lift my head. The inner harbor was quiet at that time of night, ships rising and falling in place like they were dozing. A few smaller boats moved among them, but nothing like the frenzied activity of daytime.
Toward the middle of the harbor, a thick, muddy haze wavered, green with essence. It resonated like a druid fog, a protection barrier meant to confuse and subdue anyone who ventured near. I suspected it was intended to keep Eorla hemmed in—the National Guard and the Consortium holding the front of the hotel while the Guild controlled harbor access. As far as I knew, Eorla didn’t have enough water fey to consider a naval force, so the barrier seemed a bit of overkill. But then, Maeve liked to use the threat of overwhelming force to intimidate her enemies.
We reached the dock. The merrow rose far enough out of the water to reveal the top half of his head. Dark eyes peered from either side of a hatchetlike nose, his black hair plastered to his bulbous gray forehead. As I stepped onto the dock, he slipped beneath the surface, a faint swirling wake trailing away through the pilings.
“Use the service entrance beyond the gazebo like you do it all the time. Someone will meet you inside,” the kobold said. Gazebo was an understatement. The hotel’s most popular function room stood like a giant cupcake detached from the main building on the dock overlooking the marina.
The kobold secured the boat, then busied himself among some crates on the dock, keeping his back to me and head down. His business with me was done, though I assumed he would jump in and help if anything happened to me. I hoped.
I understood my role. We all were acting out a scene designed to look inconsequential, another boat pulling up with supplies or workers. No one shot me as I walked away, so that was nice. Rand waited for me inside the door.
“You look a little green around the gills,” he said as he led me down an empty corridor.
“Yeah, boats,” I said.
We waited for a service elevator. “We might not have that option left for long,” he said.
“I noticed some kind of barrier going up in the harbor,” I said.
“We’re looking into it. So far, no one’s claiming it as their own, but it’s probably the Guild,” he said.
The elevator opened on a residential floor. Rand led me through more empty corridors to a private suite. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
Inside the modest suite, Eorla stared out the window, thick protection shields blurring the view of the harbor to random smears of red and gold lights. She held her hands out at the waist as she crossed the room. We clasped hands, and I kissed her offered cheek. Her skin glowed a pale green. “How fares my fellow fugitive?” she asked.
“I don’t mind using the back entrance, but I prefer walking,”
“The channel has been the safest way for people to come and go. I’ve been thinking of moving operations into the Weird to ease things,” she said.
“I can’t picture you living in the Weird,” I said.
She tilted her head, amused and proud. “No? Would it surprise you to know I lived in a forest camp for years?”
I helped myself to bottled water from the minibar. “Nothing about you surprises me. Why the change in location?”
“The National Guard has guns and tanks out front. The Guild has snipers on nearby buildings, and the Consortium has set up a command center on the elevated highway outside the conference-room level,” she said.
I slouched into a chair. “And that’s a problem because?”
“I don’t like the view.” Few knew that in private, Eorla Elvendottir had a sense of humor. She wasn’t going to be doing stand-up anytime soon, but she appreciated sarcasm and a good joke.