Laurell Hamilton - Divine Misdemeanors

His sunglasses were gunmetal gray with darker gray lenses to hide the paler gray of his eyes, the most unremarkable part of him, really. He favored designer suits, but he was actually in one of the few pairs of blue jeans he owned, with a silk T-shirt and a suit jacket to hide his own weapons, all in grays. We actually had been planning on an outing to the beach, or I’d have never gotten Frost out of slacks and into jeans. His face might have been the more traditionally handsome of the two, but it wasn’t by much. They were as they had been for centuries, the light and dark of each other.

The policemen in their uniforms, suits, and more casual clothes seemed like shadows not as bright, not as alive as my two men, but maybe everyone in love thought the same thing. Maybe it was not being immortal warriors of the sidhe but simply love that made them stand out to my eye.

Lucy had gotten me through the police line because I’d worked with the police before, and I was actually a licensed private detective in this state. Doyle and Frost weren’t, and they had never worked with the police on a case, so they had to stay behind the line away from any would-be clues.

“If I find out anything for certain that seems pertinent about this kind of magic, I will let you know.” It wasn’t a lie, not the way I worded it. The fey, and especially the sidhe, are known for never lying, but we’ll deceive you until you’ll think the sky is green and the grass is blue. We won’t tell you the sky is green and the grass is blue, but we will leave you with that definite impression.

“You think there’ll be an earlier murder,” she said.

“If not, this guy, or girl, got very lucky.”

Lucy motioned at the bodies. “I’m not sure I’d call this lucky.”

“No murderer is this good the first time, or did you get a new flavor of killer while I was away in faerie?”

“Nope. Most murders are pretty standard. Violence level and victim differs but you’re about eighty to ninety percent more likely to be killed by your nearest and dearest than by a stranger, and most killing is depressingly ordinary.”

“This one’s depressing,” I said, “but it’s not ordinary.”

“No, it’s not ordinary. I’m hoping this one perfect scene kind of got it out of the killer’s system.”

“You think it will?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “No, I don’t.”

“Can I alert the local demi-fey to be careful, or are you trying to withhold the victim profile from the media?”

“Warn them, because if we don’t and it happens again, we’ll get accused of being racists, or is that speciesist?” She shook her head, walking back toward the police line. I followed her, glad to be leaving the bodies behind.

“Humans can interbreed with the demi-fey, so I don’t think speciesist applies.”

“I couldn’t breed with something the size of a doll. That’s just wrong.”

“Some of them have two forms, one small and one not much shorter than me.”

“Five feet? Really, from eight inches tall to five feet?”

“Yes, really. It’s a rare ability, but it happens, and the babies are fertile, so I don’t think it’s quite a different species.”

“I didn’t mean any offense,” she said.

“None taken, I’m just explaining.”

We were almost to the police line and my visibly anxious boyfriends. “Enjoy your Saturday,” she said.

“I’d say you too, but I know you’ll be here for hours.”

“Yeah, I think your Saturday will be a lot more fun than mine.” She looked at Doyle and Frost as the police finally let them move forward. Lucy was giving them an admiring look behind her sunglasses. I didn’t blame her.

I slipped the gloves off even though I hadn’t touched a thing. I dropped them onto the mass of other discarded gloves that was on this side of the tape. Lucy held the tape up for me and I didn’t even have to stoop. Sometimes short is good.

“Oh, check out the flowers, florists,” I said.

“Already on it,” she said.

“Sorry, sometimes I get carried away with you letting me help.”

“No, all ideas are welcome, Merry, you know that. It’s why I called you down here.” She waved at me and went back to her murder scene. We couldn’t shake because she was still wearing gloves and carrying evidence.

Doyle and Frost were almost to me, but we weren’t going to get to the beach right away either. I had to warn the local demi-fey, and try to figure out a way to see if the mortality had spread to them, or if there was magic here in Los Angeles that could steal their immortality. There were things that would kill us eventually, but there wasn’t much that would allow you to slit the throat of the winged-kin. They were the essence of faerie, more so even than the high court nobles. If I found out anything certain I’d tell Lucy, but until I had something that was useful I’d keep my secrets. I was only part human; most of me was pure fey, and we know how to keep a secret. The trick was how to warn the local demi-fey without causing a panic. Then I realized that there wasn’t a way. The fey are just like humans—they understand fear. Some magic, a little near-immortality, doesn’t make you unafraid; it just gives you a different list of fears.

Frost tried to hug me, but I put a hand on his stomach, too short to really touch his chest. Doyle said, “She’s trying to appear strong in front of the policemen.”

“We shouldn’t have let you come see this now,” Frost said.

“Jeremy could have given a fey’s opinion.”

“Jeremy is the boss and he’s allowed to turn his phone off on a Saturday,” I said.

“Then Jordan or Julian Kane. They are psychics and practicing wizards.”

“They’re only human, Frost. Lucy wanted a fey to see this crime scene.”

“You shouldn’t have to see this in your condition.”

I leaned in and spoke low. “I am a detective. It’s my job, and it’s our people up there dead on the hillside. I may never be queen, but I’m the closest they have here in L.A. Where else should a ruler be when her people are threatened?”

Frost started to say something else, but Doyle touched his arm. “Let it go, my friend. Let us just get her back to the vehicle and be-gone.”

I put my arm through Doyle’s leather-clad arm, though I thought it was too hot for the leather. Frost trailed us, and a glance showed that he was doing his job of searching the area for threats. Unlike a human bodyguard, Frost looked from sky to ground, because when faerie is your potential enemy, danger can come from nearly anywhere.

Doyle was keeping an eye out too, but his attention was divided by trying to keep me from twisting an ankle in the sandals that looked great with the dress but sucked for uneven ground. They didn’t have too tall a heel, they were just very open and not supportive. I wondered what I’d wear when I got really pregnant. Did I have any practical shoes except for jogging ones?

The major danger had passed when I’d killed my main rival for the throne and given up the crown. I’d done everything I could to make myself both too dangerous to tempt anyone and harmless to the nobles and their way of life. I was in voluntary exile, and I’d made it clear that it was a permanent move. I didn’t want the throne; I just wanted to be left alone. But since some of the nobles had spent the last thousand years plotting to get closer to the throne, they found my decision a little hard to believe.

So far no one had tried to kill me, or anyone close to me, but Doyle was the Queen’s Darkness, and Frost was the Killing Frost. They had earned their names, and now that we were all in love and I was carrying their children, it would be a shame to let something go wrong. This was the end of our fairy tale, and maybe we had no enemies left, but old habits aren’t always a bad thing. I felt safe with them, except that while I loved them more than life itself, if they died trying to protect me I’d never recover from it. There are all sorts of ways to die without dying.