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“True, but most humans don’t know the difference between a fairy and other low fae. I wouldn’t put it past a troll to snatch kids. ”
“A troll wouldn’t have the finesse or presence of mind to send body parts to the cops. And I’ve never seen a troll, let alone one in Manhattan. I doubt there’s one lurking under the Bow Bridge, smacking his chops for tourists in rowboats. ”
Holden frowned. “Have you considered the obvious?”
“That it’s a human?”
“Yes. ”
“It’s the most sensible answer, actually. My biggest question is how a human could get the stockings into a busy newspaper office or drop one on a desk in the middle of a police station. ”
“A witch, perhaps?”
“Maybe. I’d nee
d to see the stockings to know if there was any lingering magic smells on them. And after so long, even that wouldn’t guarantee a solid answer. I only know what Grandmere has shown me, and she doesn’t use black magic. I don’t know if I’d recognize it. ”
“So, if we don’t know what we’re looking for, what are we hunting for?”
“Answers. ”
He snorted. “Good luck finding any of those in this city. ”
I slipped my boots back on. When I stood we were almost eye level and he was closer than I remembered him being before. My breath stuck in my lungs. He caught the sides of my jacket at my waist, and with aching slowness did the zipper up one metal tooth at a time. When he reached my breasts, his upwards journey came to an abrupt end. I placed a hand over his, and we stood staring at each other.
“I’ve got it,” I said, hating how breathy my voice sounded.
For a minute he refused to let go of the zipper, until I pried his fingers loose. His hand hovered before he dropped it and took a step backwards.
“It’s cold outside,” he said.
“I think maybe that’s a good thing. ”
He looked up, perhaps searching for something to say, and laid eyes on the dangling cluster of mistletoe Desmond had hung in the entrance. Before Holden could get any wise ideas, I grabbed his wrist and hauled him out of the apartment. Maybe the mistletoe wasn’t such a great decorating touch after all.
Chapter Six
Holden and I walked south from Hell’s Kitchen, through Chelsea, until we were in the West Village. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I’d called Nolan, and he was searching through Keaty’s computer files for me. Now I had nothing to do but search my memory and wander aimlessly until something became clear.
I hated having no plan.
That was what brought us—after a long stroll—to Battery Park and the southernmost tip of Manhattan. The trees were bare, giving the space a ghostly, skeletal-limbed eeriness. We walked through the park to the riverside path, and I leaned against the railing. The city lights turned the sky a bruised purple color.
“Now what?” Holden asked.
Turning, I propped my elbows on the railing and met his questioning gaze. He’d been politely silent while we’d walked, giving me time to mull over my thoughts, but now that we’d stopped moving he was expecting me to have reached some mental conclusion as well.
I guess my contemplation had drawn on too long, because he persisted with a, “Well?”
“Okay, well, we know it’s not a vampire because there didn’t appear to be any blood taken. We know it’s not a shifter, because none of them would be stupid enough to make such a public display. ”
Holden gave me a tight-lipped frown as if to doubt my certainty. “That leaves us where?”
“Human, fae or other. ”
“Other?”
“I don’t know. That’s the point. Alien? Poltergeist?” When I said this, he rolled his eyes, so in spite of my sincere desire to hunt our monster of unknown origin down, I added, “Wookie?”
