Tamani smiled casually and ran a hand down her cheek. It was too late for confessions. “Come inside first—you’ve got to be freezing.”
He could almost see her reach out and cling to the excuse to wait just a few more minutes before unveiling her secret. Tamani turned the knob and pushed it open, wondering what Shar had waiting for them inside. Would Yuki be dead before she drew her next breath? To kill a Winter, even a wild one, struck Tamani as a kind of sacrilege. He trusted Shar—trusted him with his life—but this was bigger than anything they had ever encountered and Tamani wasn’t ashamed to admit there was an icy pit of fear in his stomach.
He reached for the light switch and flipped it up.
Nothing happened.
“That’s weird,” Tamani said quietly, but loud enough for both Yuki and anyone who might be lurking in the dark room to hear. “Come on in,” Tamani said. “I’ll go grab the light in the kitchen, see if that one works.” He felt rather than saw Yuki pause, before crossing the threshold. As if she sensed the danger that was lurking.
Tamani felt his way to the kitchen, running his hand along the wall and reaching for the kitchen light switch. A warm hand—a human hand—covered the switch. He felt someone grab his shoulder and a hand cup around his ear. “Tell her to come over to you,” David whispered, as he carefully repositioned him a few steps to the right. “Tell her the electricity must be out.”
“Come this way,” Tamani said. “The electricity must be out.” She was still standing in the doorway, silhouetted by a dim streetlight that scarcely touched the murky blackness.
“I can’t see.” Her voice sounded strange, like a little girl’s. There was something inside her, telling her this was wrong.
“I’ll catch you if you fall,” Tamani said, making his voice purr.
Hesitantly, she took a few steps toward him.
“I’m right here,” Tamani said, as David nudged him just a little more to the right.
He heard a clang and Yuki let out a frightened yowl. There was a flurry of motion and David was gone from his side. He heard a couple of dull thuds, two sets of staccato clicks, then more shrieks from Yuki.
The light overhead burst to life, making Tamani cringe and screw his eyes shut against the onslaught. He blinked and surveyed the scene, his eyes searching for Shar.
But Shar wasn’t there.
It was David, pulling off a pair of night-vision goggles. Chelsea, too, standing at his side, a length of rope in her hands. Some kind of backup plan. It was strange to see them standing in their finery with tools of capture in their hands.
Yuki was gasping as she struggled to escape from a metal chair someone had bolted to the floor, her hands cuffed securely behind her, one set for each wrist, with the other end locked around the back of the chair. Enough slack to throw herself against them pretty hard, but not enough to lean forward more than about a foot.
Tamani’s jaw dropped. “What have you done? She’s going to kill us!” Tamani hissed. But David wasn’t talking. His face had gone white and he was staring at Yuki in horror. Tamani suspected he’d never tied someone up before.
But now was not the time for speculation. He threw himself in front of the humans, bracing himself for whatever was about to come.
Yuki stopped struggling for a moment to glare at him. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, then her head snapped back and she howled, not in anger this time, but pain. And then she was gaping at the floor around her.
It was the first time Tamani had noticed the circle of white powder that surrounded her chair. He took two steps forward and bent to examine it.
“Don’t touch that.” Shar’s breathless voice came floating in through the doorway.
“What is it?” he gasped, drawing his hand back.
Shar stood with his chest heaving—Tamani wondered where he had run from—and Tamani could see him hesitate for a second; something that frightened him even more than the trapped Winter faerie not inches from him. “It’s exactly what you think it is,” Shar finally whispered.
Tamani looked back to the circle, now recognizing the granular crystals as salt. “It’s too simple,” he said, his voice soft.
“It’s hardly foolproof, and difficult to invoke. A Winter faerie must walk into the circle willingly, or it won’t work. If you couldn’t get her to walk in on her own, I guess we’d all be dead.”
“Let me go!” Yuki screamed, her face tight, the sharp angle of her cheekbones standing out.
“I wouldn’t make so much noise if I were you,” Shar said, his voice deadly calm. “I have a roll of duct tape and I’m not afraid to use it. But I promise you, it hurts coming off. A lot.”
“That won’t matter when the cops come,” Yuki said, and she drew in a breath to scream.
“Oh, please,” Shar said, chuckling. The humor in his voice startled her enough to stop her scream before it began. “You mighty Benders always underestimate the power of Enticement. The cops wouldn’t get past the front door even if you were screaming your head off ten feet away. My request for you not to scream is to keep me from wasting memory elixirs on the entire population of this apartment complex, not out of any kind of fear of retribution.”
Yuki growled and glared at Shar, then her head snapped back again and she screamed through clenched teeth. Then she slumped forward and her body shook with sobs.
“Why is it hurting her, Shar?” Tamani said, feeling strangely desperate to stop her pain. “Make it stop!” Tamani was no stranger to pain; in fact, he’d spent a lot of his life learning how to inflict it—but never on another faerie, let alone a female faerie, and so young. He was shocked that he had to suppress an urge to run to her, to comfort her, even though he knew she could kill him with a glance.
He could almost see her reach out and cling to the excuse to wait just a few more minutes before unveiling her secret. Tamani turned the knob and pushed it open, wondering what Shar had waiting for them inside. Would Yuki be dead before she drew her next breath? To kill a Winter, even a wild one, struck Tamani as a kind of sacrilege. He trusted Shar—trusted him with his life—but this was bigger than anything they had ever encountered and Tamani wasn’t ashamed to admit there was an icy pit of fear in his stomach.
He reached for the light switch and flipped it up.
Nothing happened.
“That’s weird,” Tamani said quietly, but loud enough for both Yuki and anyone who might be lurking in the dark room to hear. “Come on in,” Tamani said. “I’ll go grab the light in the kitchen, see if that one works.” He felt rather than saw Yuki pause, before crossing the threshold. As if she sensed the danger that was lurking.
Tamani felt his way to the kitchen, running his hand along the wall and reaching for the kitchen light switch. A warm hand—a human hand—covered the switch. He felt someone grab his shoulder and a hand cup around his ear. “Tell her to come over to you,” David whispered, as he carefully repositioned him a few steps to the right. “Tell her the electricity must be out.”
“Come this way,” Tamani said. “The electricity must be out.” She was still standing in the doorway, silhouetted by a dim streetlight that scarcely touched the murky blackness.
“I can’t see.” Her voice sounded strange, like a little girl’s. There was something inside her, telling her this was wrong.
“I’ll catch you if you fall,” Tamani said, making his voice purr.
Hesitantly, she took a few steps toward him.
“I’m right here,” Tamani said, as David nudged him just a little more to the right.
He heard a clang and Yuki let out a frightened yowl. There was a flurry of motion and David was gone from his side. He heard a couple of dull thuds, two sets of staccato clicks, then more shrieks from Yuki.
The light overhead burst to life, making Tamani cringe and screw his eyes shut against the onslaught. He blinked and surveyed the scene, his eyes searching for Shar.
But Shar wasn’t there.
It was David, pulling off a pair of night-vision goggles. Chelsea, too, standing at his side, a length of rope in her hands. Some kind of backup plan. It was strange to see them standing in their finery with tools of capture in their hands.
Yuki was gasping as she struggled to escape from a metal chair someone had bolted to the floor, her hands cuffed securely behind her, one set for each wrist, with the other end locked around the back of the chair. Enough slack to throw herself against them pretty hard, but not enough to lean forward more than about a foot.
Tamani’s jaw dropped. “What have you done? She’s going to kill us!” Tamani hissed. But David wasn’t talking. His face had gone white and he was staring at Yuki in horror. Tamani suspected he’d never tied someone up before.
But now was not the time for speculation. He threw himself in front of the humans, bracing himself for whatever was about to come.
Yuki stopped struggling for a moment to glare at him. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, then her head snapped back and she howled, not in anger this time, but pain. And then she was gaping at the floor around her.
It was the first time Tamani had noticed the circle of white powder that surrounded her chair. He took two steps forward and bent to examine it.
“Don’t touch that.” Shar’s breathless voice came floating in through the doorway.
“What is it?” he gasped, drawing his hand back.
Shar stood with his chest heaving—Tamani wondered where he had run from—and Tamani could see him hesitate for a second; something that frightened him even more than the trapped Winter faerie not inches from him. “It’s exactly what you think it is,” Shar finally whispered.
Tamani looked back to the circle, now recognizing the granular crystals as salt. “It’s too simple,” he said, his voice soft.
“It’s hardly foolproof, and difficult to invoke. A Winter faerie must walk into the circle willingly, or it won’t work. If you couldn’t get her to walk in on her own, I guess we’d all be dead.”
“Let me go!” Yuki screamed, her face tight, the sharp angle of her cheekbones standing out.
“I wouldn’t make so much noise if I were you,” Shar said, his voice deadly calm. “I have a roll of duct tape and I’m not afraid to use it. But I promise you, it hurts coming off. A lot.”
“That won’t matter when the cops come,” Yuki said, and she drew in a breath to scream.
“Oh, please,” Shar said, chuckling. The humor in his voice startled her enough to stop her scream before it began. “You mighty Benders always underestimate the power of Enticement. The cops wouldn’t get past the front door even if you were screaming your head off ten feet away. My request for you not to scream is to keep me from wasting memory elixirs on the entire population of this apartment complex, not out of any kind of fear of retribution.”
Yuki growled and glared at Shar, then her head snapped back again and she screamed through clenched teeth. Then she slumped forward and her body shook with sobs.
“Why is it hurting her, Shar?” Tamani said, feeling strangely desperate to stop her pain. “Make it stop!” Tamani was no stranger to pain; in fact, he’d spent a lot of his life learning how to inflict it—but never on another faerie, let alone a female faerie, and so young. He was shocked that he had to suppress an urge to run to her, to comfort her, even though he knew she could kill him with a glance.
