“Either an incubus or a succubus. Could be either one, but I can't seem to track the killer down,” Sasha said. “I’ve had to start over after every victim, a week apart like clockwork. It’s just been so many now. It has to stop.”
Nathan set his now empty beer mug down on the tabletop. “Sounds like a plausible enough reason for you being in that apartment today,” he said, “but you'll understand why we might be a little hesitant to believe anything coming from a seal.”
"I do," Sasha said, not denying the label Nathan had given him. "I really do. Changelings are hunted by seals more than any normal fae, and there aren’t many changelings around, so I’ve heard the name James Grier quite a few times. And you don’t know me, so you have no reason to trust me. But remember, you're the ones coming to me for help here, and I still don't know what it is exactly you expect me to do for you."
Nathan and Jim looked at each other. That was another problem; they didn't really know. Wade had pointed them in a direction and they had gone, having only a name and the promise that ‘Sasha’ could help them. They didn't actually knowhowSasha was supposed to help them.
"Just give me the short version," Sasha said when the brothers did little more than cast glances at each other. "I'm guessing thefriend who told you I’d be at that apartment today is a seer. So what did they see? What do you need my help for?"
"Well…it goes back a couple weeks ago," Nathan began, and continued to explain what had happened to them up until the Messenger marking him before she died. “Our friend, Wade, yeah, she's a psychic. She did a reading for me, and it said that you might be able to help us remove the mark."
Sasha's bright blue eyes were wide. "I'd say you must be joking if that wasn't one hell of a story,” he said. “Okay, so…which of the dark fae lords did the Messenger work for?"
“Lords?” Nathan practically choked. “What are you talking about?”
Sasha was naturally pale, like maybe he spent a little too much time hunting fae and not quite enough out in the sunlight. The remaining color drained from his face. “Nathan, Messengers might be sidhe, but they are the lowest of the low. Each of them serves a higher ranking master, usually a lord of the upper court. That means a dark faelordowns your mark. Whoever tries to claim the bounty would turn you over to him.”
Nathan felt the color drain from his face too. He had assumed the mark would belong to another Messenger, not a sidhe of the upper court. They were the oldest and most powerful dark fae in existence. Risking a glance at Walter, Nathan saw that his resident ghost looked more disappointed than surprised.
“Messengers are just…well,that,” Sasha went on, “messengers, couriers. If you’re going to have any chance of getting rid of that mark then you’re going to have to find out who the Messenger worked for first.”
"The book you used," Jim said. "It had to have said which Messenger you would be summoning, and at least something about its master.”
“It didn’t say anything,” Nathan said. “Trust me. I read through that thing a million times. Memorized it. I figured I wasjust summoning the closest Messenger, not a specific one. I don’t know who she worked for.”
“Then we have to find out,” Sasha said. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…helping people is what I do. I'm not your average seal. Not like you're thinking. I don't chase down every fae I see just because of what they are. Changelings included. Plenty of innocent people get caught up in fae business and need saving. You say this friend of yours told you where to find me because you need my help getting rid of your mark. Fine. I'll help however I can. But I could use some help in return."
"Hang on," Nathan tried to interrupt.
"Please,” Sasha implored them. “I didn’t tell you about the hunt I'm on for conversation. The next victim is supposed to dietomorrow night. I can't work with other seals. Most of them don't agree with my methods. And I can't count on the police. You're...pretty much all I got for backup right now.” His eyes were down-turned like Jim's same pleading look that Nathan always had trouble resisting, just in a slightly different shade of blue. "You're obviously armed and you know how to handle yourselves. I'm not trying to blackmail you, I just...need you. And if you need me, why not help each other?"
“That…sounds like a sensible argument,” Jim said, glancing sideways at Nathan for corroboration.
Nathan resisted glaring at his brother in reply. "Maybe you are what you say," he said to Sasha, "but we're not trained for this kind of thing. We know how to defend ourselves, sure, but we've never actively hunted anything before. That’s why we came to you for help."
The smile that widened on Sasha's face was playful, like it had been when he first introduced himself at the apartment. "Then it's a good thing you'll be working with a professional," he said. "I won't refuse to help you if you say no, but I have to finish this case. So either you help me," he crossed his arms, entirely casualdespite the weight of his words, "or you might have a long way to wait. Any questions?"
Nathan considered that, but since they had few options, he decided on a smirk. “Just one. Where did you find the box that stuff came in, anyway?" he asked, indicating Sasha's red hair. "Your head looks like a frickin’ fire engine.”
Even Jim snorted at the comment.
Sasha didn’t laugh, but his grin was wide. “What box? This is my natural color.”
Nathan and Jim both chuckled.
“Nice trick with the eyebrows, man, but you’re not fooling anyone,” Nathan said.
“Oh really?”
There was something predatory in Sasha’s eyes as he stood and leaned over the table, but since Nathan didn't really know Sasha yet, he wasn't sure whether or not to take it seriously.
“Well, Mr. Grier, I could prove it to you,” Sasha said, giving Nathan a playful once over, “but I don’t think that would be appropriate in public.” He finished with a wink before turning toward the bar. "I'll go get us another round."
As soon as Sasha was gone, Jim busted out laughing.
"Oh shut up," Nathan grumbled.
Chapter 6