Page 69 of Wake the Dream

He and Illaria stoodin the witch’s living room, with Caryss looking disgruntled and put-upon. Not a far stretch for her, as she seemed to be in the same mindset each time he saw her. This time her ire felt next-level.

Iron teeth snapped together. “Didn’t I just get rid of you?”

“You did. I realize I’m compounding my debt,” Kieran explained, clasping his hands together behind his back.

Caryss shook her head slowly. Then came the laughter. Slow and low. Undulating. “You don’t know when to quit, Detective Kieran Shanahan of the Hedgehill Marsh PD. You don’t know the price you have already agreed to pay. Now you want more. Always more.”

Illaria paced the tiny space with her hands in her pockets, clearly restless. “Do you think I like this any more than you do? I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t think you were our best chance.”

“I already told you once, fairy girl. I can’t help you. There are some paths meant for certain people and not for others. When will you learn? You should not have survived the night and wouldn’t have if I hadn’t cheated death for you. Count your blessings.”

“Count my blessings,” Illaria repeated with a scoff. “You’re a riot, you are. Passing yourself off as a big powerhouse in this town. The crazy thing is, the other little monsters with only half a brain believe you!Theysent us here because they said you had theoomphto find my sister.”

Caryss focused her attention on Illaria, taking a step closer. “And I already told you no. I’m not sure what more you want from me.”

“Scrying,” Kieran interjected in an attempt to play mediator. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he and Illaria had seamlessly slipped into the roles of good cop, bad cop. They each had their part to play and knew it well.

He only hoped Caryss didn’t see through their posturing.

“I know you can do it,” he continued. “I’m told you do it for tourists on the street.”

“And what if I do?” Caryss turned her attention toward a fluttering of movement from her bottles. A butterfly trapped in a glass container. She tapped a fingernail against the side and sighed. “A girl has to eat.”

“The blood of children, sure,” Illaria replied.

“Look, I know you said you can’t, but I also know what you did for me last night. Or this morning, rather,” Kieran said placatingly. He glanced between the women again. So alike and yet different in a thousand different ways. “You have the power. We’re asking for a spell. And if you really believe you can’t do it, then point us in the direction of someone who can, because we aren’t playing games.”

“There is a price for my magic,” Caryss insisted. She grabbed the jar with the butterfly and crossed to a scarred wooden workbench.

“I’ll double what you get on the street.”

“I’d rather have a favor.”

“Always with the favors,” Illaria growled, stalking the room and staring at different displays.

“Whatever it takes,” Kieran insisted. “Name your price.”

Caryss jerked her nose toward Illaria, then opened the jar. The butterfly fluttered toward the opening before she caught it between two withered fingers. “Send that one home to grab something of her sister’s. We will talk in her absence.”

“Are you serious?”

Let the fireworks begin. “Illaria...” he began.

She threw her hands in the air. “Fine. Whatever. Yelena is the most important thing to think about right now.”

“I’m so—”

She didn’t want to listen to him. With a backwards glance toward the witch and a warning scowl at Kieran, Illaria hustled back down the stairs after he tossed his car keys at her. Not wanting the older Fae witch to know Illaria couldn’t fly on her own.

He waited until the door slammed, reverberating, and silence reigned before opening his mouth to speak again.

“What do you want from me, Caryss?” he finally asked. “Be truthful. I give you the same consideration.”

The old woman stared at him, the butterfly trying frantically to free itself from her grasp. She dropped it down into a bowl with a sigh. Then ground it into a fine powder with a marble pestle. “Answer me, first. Why are you doing this for her?”

Kieran wanted to tell the truth, that he’d started to fall head over heels in love with the girl, but he didn’t think Caryss was entitled to the information. “Because she is worth it,” he told her at last.

Caryss shook her head before returning her attention back to her work. “Fae are flighty. They are not from here. They don’t belong here. Are you sure she is someone you can trust?”

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