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At least we had that in common.
EIGHTEEN
We were offered bottles of water and checks from EMTs, which we declined. Instead, we sent messages to the people who’d probably seen us on video—or would eventually—to let them know we were fine.
“You’ll want more patrols here,” Theo said to the CPD officer who questioned us. “They’ll probably come back.”
“Great,” the man said. “Just what we freakin’ need right now.” His voice was coated in a thick Chicago accent, and the familiarity made me feel a little better.
“We’ll go to the office,” Theo said, when they’d left us alone.
“Fine by me,” I said, and we walked back to his car.
Theo unlocked the doors, looked at me over the roof. “Are you aware that you can be scary?” He said it with a smile, so I took it as a compliment.
“I’m a vampire,” I said, with the most casual shrug I could manage. “It’s our thing.”
• • •
Mr. Pettiway looked up from a large paperback as we entered, but his expression stayed somber.
“Fairies,” he said, the single word holding a wealth of concern.
“Fairies,” Theo agreed. “Is he here?”
“Oh, he’s here.” And he didn’t sound thrilled about it. “And he isn’t very happy.”
“I appreciate the warning.” Theo glanced at the book. “You finished upThe Odyssey?”
“It was my third time,” he said with a smile. “I breezed through it.” He showed us the cover of his current read, which featured an enormous golden crown. “Thought I’d lose myself in a little fantasy for a few days.”
“Any fairies in that one?” Theo asked.
“Plenty. Your high fae, your low fae, and everything in between.”
“If it gives you any ideas about dealing with them, let us know.”
Mr. Pettiway grinned. “You know I will.”
• • •
“Who is ‘he’?” I asked, as we walked through the main building. “Dearborn?”
“Yeah. Mr. Pettiway isn’t a fan. I believe he compares everyone to your great-grandfather. He wanted Yuen to get the job, but Dearborn has better connections.” He pressed his hand to a sensor beside a door and a “Briefing Room” sign.
The door slid open, revealing a long and narrow room with several rows of tables and chairs in a neat grid facing a large glass screen in the front of the room. Yuen stood in front of the screen, arms crossed as he watched Petra rearrange electronic images with a wave of her hand. Petra, like Yuen, wore a tidy suit and shiny shoes, which was quite a contrast to Theo’s shirt, now dotted with blood from the faint scrape of the fairy’s knife against his neck.
“Hey,” she said, glancing back.
“Hey, Petra.” I reached out to shake the bare hand she offered, and a bright blue spark jumped between our fingers, sending a literal shock of pain through me.
I yelped and yanked my hand back, rubbed the needlelike sting from my skin.
“Damn it. Sorry about that,” she said, and rubbed her ownpalm. “I forgot I wasn’t wearing gloves. I can’t use them when I use the damn screen. And the static doesn’t help,” she said, casting a sour glance at the carpet.
“We’re getting a humidifier,” Yuen said with a smile. “As soon as the budget’s approved.”
“Can’t be soon enough,” she said. “I’m a walking occupational hazard.”
