The Fae Book 3: Butcher and Raine

Chapter 12 (Raine): Red

I stomped up the  stairs to my apartment after I left Butcher in the alley with Steve. I was berating myself for not taking some shots at him, but I also knew that whatever I did to him would be nothing compared to what Butcher would do to him as a guest of Hotel Hell. I also didn't want to owe anything to Butcher for bringing me a gift.

That fucking bow on Steve's head almost made up for the shit he'd pulled over the last couple of years since he'd had me arrested. Seeing him on his knees, gagged, crying like the little bitch he was pretty much made my night it was so satisfactory. But that bow...seriously? At least some of the brothers in his MC had a sense of humor. Definitely warped but still, it was better than not having one at all, like some giant men I could name.

Rubbing my belly, I promised Alexandre he'd have a sense of humor, unlike the man who fathered him. I sighed, feeling my energy flagging, and got ready for bed after brewing a cup of tea. I turned out the lights and peeped out my front window. My Butcher-clone spy was there, parked across the street on his Harley, just looking up at my place. Why I was being watched, I had no clue. Was he watching to see if another man came up to my apartment? To see who went in and out? If so, he was bound to be disappointed -- it was either my mother or Daisy and Harmony.

Butcher had ignored me when I'd told him to call off his clones. No surprise there. The man did whatever he wanted, including kidnapping me. (I don't care what he said -- it was a damn kidnapping.)

I sat in bed, sipping my tea and reading one of the baby books my mother had bought for me. The Single Parent's Guide to Babies was my current reading selection, and it was both scaring the hell out of me and reassuring me. I have my mom, Melody, Nan, Harmony and Daisy I kept reminding myself. 

But the truth was, they wouldn't be living with me. They wouldn't be there to help me walk the floor at night if the baby was fussy. Just as I finished my tea, my phone rang, and I saw it was my mother.

"Maman?" I answered her call, immediately worried. She never called me this late.

"Raine," she said, and her normally even voice was shaky. "I just got home from...well, I was out, and when I got home, I saw a light on in my studio and the door was open. Someone broke into my studio and destroyed it, along with several pieces I was working on."

"Maman!" I said, throwing back my comforter and grabbing some sweats and a sweatshirt to put on as I put her on speakerphone. "Are you safe? Is someone with you? Please tell me you're in the house and all the doors are locked!"

"I'm fine, and the police are here, so calm yourself, Raine. I just wanted to let you know --"

I'd thrown on some socks and tennis shoes. "I'm coming over, Maman. I'm leaving now."

"No, Raine, I just didn't want you to hear about it tomorrow. You know how the Harbor's Edge grapevine is. Stay at home, Raine. I'm fine."

"You are not fine, Maman, I can hear it in your voice, and you are not staying there by yourself tonight. I'm on my way." I knew Maman wouldn't leave her home, feeling as if she needed to stay and stand guard.

Making my way carefully down the stairs, I burst out into the alley, not even pausing when I noticed another Butcher clone watching the back entrance. I took off, forcing myself to not speed so I didn't get pulled over and delay getting to Maman.

Who would have ruined her studio, her sculptures? Maman had no enemies, she'd had her place in Harbor's Edge for years and everyone knew her and loved her. In all the years we'd lived in our home, nothing bad had ever happened. It'd always been safe.

What must she be feeling right now? I just wanted to get to her and hug her. I also didn't want her to clean up the mess herself, knowing it would break her heart to see her works in progress in pieces and her studio reduced to nothing.

I wouldn't let  Maman face that.

Ten minutes later, I pulled up to my mom's behind the police cars, and threw the car into park and ran into Maman's house.

"Raine," she said and opened her arms to me. "I'm OK, Raine. You need to calm down and think of Alexandre. I don't want you upset."

"Maman," I said into her neck. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and started shaking as I realized that she could have come home and surprised the vandals. She could have been hurt or worse.

Her hand stroked my hair until I calmed. Here I'd come to comfort Maman and she was comforting me. No doubt about it, Calypso Caroline was an amazing woman.

I finally pushed back from her. "Maman, I'm staying with you tonight."

She smiled, "Of course. Let's talk to the police when they finish and then go to bed. Your room is ready. Alexandre needs his beauty sleep."

Half an hour later, three police officers came into the house and reported they hadn't found any evidence of who had committed the crime. They asked Maman a few more questions and said they'd be in touch. Once they left, we both secured the house, checking the locks on the doors and windows before we went to bed.

After two hours, I gave up trying to sleep. Sneaking out of the house, I went to Maman's studio, deciding to start cleaning up what I could, hoping that seeing it would quiet my mind and cleaning for a bit would tire me enough so I could find sleep.

The destruction that met me was beyond what I'd imagined, and what I'd imagined had been pretty bad. To me, it looked like pure violence and hatred. There wasn't anything still in one piece, her shelves were pushed over, all the windows were broken and her equipment was smashed.

I went to grab a broom to sweep the floor when a voice scared the hell out of me.

"Don't."

I jumped and shrieked before I recognized a Butcher clone.

"You scared me to death."

"Obviously not."

"Why are you here?"

"Watching you."

I was getting so sick of that answer. "Well, stop watching me. I need to get some of this cleaned up."

He took the broom from my hand. "Pregnant bitches don't need to be cleaning this shit up."

Oh, how I wished I was wearing my Doc Martens instead of my tennis shoes. I would have taken the shot I should have taken with Steve.

"I don't want my mother to do it, so give me back the damn broom."

He just stared at me.

Whipping out my phone, I called Butcher. 

"What do you want?"

"Your stupid clone won't let me clean up the mess. Call him off. Now."

"Done here."

Then he hung up on me.

"Go back inside," the clone told me. 

"I will after I look around. And just so we're clear, I'll go inside when I'm ready to, not when you tell me to."

The lights still worked in the studio -- apparently the vandals left those alone. I picked my way carefully through the debris, nothing jumping out at me until something caught my eye behind the door. It looked like just some more random bits of wreckage, but I realized there was a loose structure to the pieces. They were spelling out a word.

Dearg.

After taking a picture of the word, I realized I knew it from my fairy immersion sessions with Burr.

"What does aon dearg mean?" I asked.

"It means no red," Burr explained.

Burr had said those two words when he was working to save Butcher after his chest had split open and the blood and red-winged fairies had poured out from him in an endless stream.

And now, one of those words was spelled out in my mother's studio. I Google translated dearg.

Red.

Looking up from my phone, I felt a chill go down my spine. 

The bad fairies had been here.