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The heel on my boot was broken, so I limped over and yanked open the driver door, which was a mangled mess. My strength allowed me to pry it loose, thank the gods, and with growing relief, I saw that the only passenger in the car seemed to be the driver—a youngish woman. But she looked unconscious, and I could only pray that she wasn’t dead.
Chapter 2
I leaned in to feel for a pulse. The scent of blood hung lightly in the air and, right off, I could see the woman had sustained several cuts from broken glass, though none of them looked like they were bleeding out.
While the adrenaline rush of fear didn’t work on me the same way it did for someone who was alive, the psychological aspects were still there and they set me on edge. My thirst rose at the scent of blood, but I pushed it down, burying it as I took her hand in mine and felt for the beat of her pulse.
There… yes, strong, if a little fast. The emergency dispatcher had said a unit would be here in minutes, and I tried to gauge whether she needed help before then. But at that moment, the woman jerked back as she opened her eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
“You’re alive.” She stared at me.
“Yeah, I lucked out. How are you? Can you move? The cops are on the way, along with fire department and an ambulance.”
She frowned and began to shift, trying to get out from behind the steering wheel, which had been pushed toward her. “You’ve already called them then?”
I eased the seat back—luckily the controls still worked—and offered her my hand. “Yes, I figured I’d better. They’ll be here in a few minutes. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head and, ignoring my hand, slid out of the SUV, easing past the skewed metal frame. I stood to the side as she struggled away from the twisted auto.
When she had fully stepped away from the car, I realized she was Fae. Which probably accounted for her being more shaken than hurt.
She eyed me up and down. “Well, that was exciting. You’re sure you’re all right?” Her jacket hung oddly on her and she didn’t look terribly pulled together. The jeans and motorcycle boots beneath the soccer-mom camel coat didn’t jive.
Slowly, I edged back. “I’m fine. Shaken, but okay.”
“Good. Very good.”
As I glanced at her, rain pounded down, illuminated by the streetlights on the side of the road, and I could have sworn that she was scowling. Oh yeah. Alarm bells, for sure. But then again, could the alarms be ringing because I was already having a horrible week?
“Maybe we should move away from the cars, just in case there’s a gas leak.” I wanted to ask her what happened—why she’d been screeching out of the driveway so fast. But all the insurance agencies warned against saying anything about the actual accident, and I doubted if she was going to admit her fault.
She followed me, but stood a respectful distance as I put in a call to Bowman’s Towing. My Jag had a lot of what looked like superficial damage—a lot of scrapes and the passenger door looked dented where I’d slammed into her. It would take a complete inspection to figure out just what kind of a mess I was looking at. If she’d hit me at a slightly different angle, my car would have been totaled and I could have easily either gone up in flames, or been skewered by some piece of metal.
But the SUV… when she had glanced off my car, she’d spun and hit into the concrete retaining wall, which had caved in the driver’s side of her vehicle.
“Seems we’ve had quite the little adventure.” She sounded almost disappointed.
“Yeah. But I’d rather get my adventure from somewhere else.” I gave her the once-over. Something wasn’t tracking right. “I’m Menolly D’Artigo.”
She nodded. “Eisha te Kana.” After a pause, she added, “You sure you’re okay?”
Why did she keep asking that? It wasn’t like I could sustain any real internal injuries. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Good. You know, I have to be somewhere in a hurry. Let me give you my insurance information, and then, if I can still drive that hunk of metal, I’ll be off.” She headed back to her car.
I was about to protest—there was no way in hell that she could get the SUV going again, but paused, something nagging the back of my brain. Then it hit me—why wasn’t she running up to her house? She’d pulled out of a driveway. So either she lived there, or had been visiting a friend. Either way, wouldn’t she go up there to let someone know what had happened?
She was OW Fae for sure, her name told me that much. Back in Otherworld I was Menolly Rosabelle te Maria. But we were a long ways from home, and on this dark, rain-slicked road, Otherworld might as well be a million miles away.
As I said, back in Otherworld, I’m Menolly Rosabelle te Maria. The mother’s first name is always the child’s last name among our Fae kin. But when we came over here to Earthside, my sisters and I chose to use our mother’s last name for our surname, so here, I’m Menolly D’Artigo.
My sisters and I are half-human from our mother’s blood. And we’re half-Fae on our father’s side. Unfortunately, our mother died when we were small, and our father, Sephreh ob Tanu, is currently missing and presumed dead.
We work for the OIA—the Otherworld Intelligence Agency. At first we were ostensibly sent over Earthside due to our poor performance evaluations. In reality, Camille’s supervisor—Lathe—was out for retaliation since she wouldn’t blow him. He bided his time, plotting his revenge, until he was finally able to get rid of her—and us. However, sometimes there’s a silver lining. After a couple years here, and all too many battles, we now run the Earthside division. I’m not sure whatever happened to Lathe, but I have a feeling he’s dead. If we were lucky, maybe some pissed off agent killed him. Whatever the case, he was a prick. One better off out of the gene pool.
During the time Camille worked for him, we were with the YIA—the Y’Elestrial Intelligence Agency. Y’Elestrial being our home city-state. But then, when the OIA was formed and the portals ES opened, Lathe assigned her transfer. He finagled Delilah’s and my transfers, too. We spent a year training on the cultures, habits, and other features of our mother’s people.
So a little more about us. Camille is the oldest. She was born a witch, but thanks to her half-human heritage, her natural powers fritz out at all the wrong times. She’s also a priestess of the Moon Mother, and she’s married to three men: Smoky, a dragon; Morio, a youkai-kitsune who is teaching her death magic; and lastly, but not least, her third husband is Trillian, a Svartan—one of the dark and charming Fae. Camille studies with the Queen of Shadow and Night, out at the ES sovereign Fae nation.
