Those Words I Dread

Chapter 1

The rain was more of a hindrance to Julien than the fairy's glamours. He weaved through people on the street, shouldering his way between couples and upsetting more than a few umbrellas, but he always kept the creature's back in sight. It was slow; the wound in its gut made it limp down the sidewalk, perhaps unseen by anyone but Julien himself. He would need to chase it until he could force it into a less public location. His boot sunk into a puddle as he was forced off the curb by a cluster of people, soaking his sock, and he cursed as he wiped the plastered hair from his forehead.

Ahead of him, the fairy ducked into a building, and Julien picked up speed, taking the front steps two at a time and flinging the glass door open to keep the creature in view. He moved to follow it through the lobby and was stopped by a quick shout and a hand on his chest.

"Afternoon, sir," the doorman said in a tone less friendly than his words. "Can I help you?"

Julien looked past him to the fairy in the corner, clutching its stomach and watching him with a wicked grin. The guard couldn't see it. As big as a man and standing two feet from him, laughing—and he couldn't see it.

"I'm here to see someone," Julien said as calmly as he could, glancing briefly at the man in front of him. He couldn't exactly tell him the truth.

The doorman looked over his shoulder a moment to follow Julien's gaze, but he only saw the elevator doors and the tall potted fern in the corner of the lobby. "And who's that?" he asked, turning back to the taller man with a more skeptical eye.

Julien grit his teeth as the fairy snickered at him. The creature looked up as the elevator beside it let out a soft ding, and it slipped inside, wiggling its fingers at Julien in a taunting wave as the doors slid shut between them.

"Sorry," he ground out. "Wrong building." He watched the numbered lights above the elevator go up and up, but he had to turn and leave before he saw them stop.

Julien let out a curse as he stepped back out into the rain, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead as he craned his neck to look up at the building. He hadn't anticipated the fairy having a home. Maybe only a hideout. He took a look up and down the street, as well as he could see through the pouring rain. Nothing but housing. He would just have to wait, try again in the morning with a different doorman.

He hunkered under some scaffolding and dug in his pocket, retrieving his small brass compass and clicking it open. The makeshift screen inside still lit up green, confirming that a magic creature was still nearby instead of directing him north. The fairy had been killing women around Vancouver for months, and now that Julien finally had it in his sights, he didn't plan on letting it slip away from him. He shut the compass and dropped it back into his pocket, then settled under the scaffolding and lit a cigarette. He could wait.

Ciaran leaned his head against the back of the elevator and took a few long, slow breaths before looking down to check the seeping wound under his hand. Black blood had smeared across his palm and soaked his shirt where the hunter had cut him, and the open gash burned from the iron blade's touch. He felt lightheaded. Damn that man. Who did he think he was?

The elevator rose up to the top floor of the building, as he had requested, but a sick turning in his stomach made him punch the button marked '19' and stop it one floor early. He needed somewhere to hide, and that tugging feeling in his gut told him this was it. The door was locked, of course, but it only took a turn of the knob to click it open. He put his hand back to his stomach as he entered, leaving a coating of pitch-colored blood on the door knob.

The apartment was spacious and sparsely decorated, with cool stone floors and tall windows. There was hardly any color anywhere—only a black leather sofa and the cold stainless steel of the kitchen fixtures. Ciaran spotted the source of his unrest in the octagonal mirror on the wall, the round convex mirror surrounded by black, red, and yellow markings. He couldn't read them, but he knew a talisman meant to keep evil spirits away when he saw it. Luckily for him, he wasn't an evil spirit. At least, he didn't mean this particular resident any harm just now. He peered at his distorted reflection, one green eye growing large as he leaned close to the polished surface. He looked as pale as he felt. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, only smearing the gathered sweat. He could barely breathe.