Seanan McGuire - Ashes of Honor

“You’ll have to sign for them,” said the officer, frowning at me.

“I’ve been signing my name since I was six,” I said. “I think I can manage.”

The desk officer rolled his eyes as he got up and vanished into the back, leaving me alone with Officer Thornton. We stood in silence for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and said, “You have an interesting file.”

That was probably an understatement. “Yeah?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“You were the subject of a missing persons case that remains unsolved, since you never told us where you’d been. Your teenage daughter was abducted last fall—”

“Are you implying something?” I interrupted. I didn’t care if that looked suspicious. I didn’t want him saying anything else about Gillian.

I disappeared because Simon Torquill turned me into a goldfish for fourteen years. My little girl grew up believing I’d abandoned her. My only comfort had been knowing that Gillian was free of Faerie and its dangers…a solace shattered by Simon’s niece, Rayseline, when she abducted my now-teenage daughter. Raysel wanted to hurt me. She succeeded. I lost both my daughter and my lover thanks to her. Gillian was still alive. Connor wasn’t. It had been almost a year, and I hadn’t had a good day’s sleep since that night. The dreams were too much for me.

“Not at all,” said Officer Thornton, clearly sensing my distress. “I just thought it was interesting. That’s all.”

“Try living with it,” I said. Living with the things in my file wasn’t that hard. It was living with the things that weren’t there that was threatening to kill me.

Officer Thornton was saved from replying by the return of the desk officer with my confiscated belongings. Leather jacket, package of tissues, wallet, belt; it was all there and, thankfully, all still covered by the illusion I had spun. Suddenly appearing bloodstains and bullet holes wouldn’t have gone over well with the police. I signed the form and slipped my jacket on, relaxing a little as the weight of it settled on my shoulders.

I looked up once everything was back where it belonged. “Is that all?”

“That’s all,” confirmed Officer Thornton. “You’re free to leave.”

“Great.” That seemed insufficient, so I added, “It was nice to see you again. Despite, you know. The circumstances.”

“I apologize that we had to keep you past midnight,” said Officer Thornton.

“It’s all right. I’m a bit of a night owl.” It being after midnight just meant I was fully awake. Fae are nocturnal, and I’m fae enough to be at my best after the sun goes down.

“Get home safely, all right?”

“I’ll try.” I forced myself to smile before turning to walk through the door to the public receiving area. The sweet air of freedom hit me as soon as I was out of the working part of the station. My smile turned honest. I started for the nearest exit…and stopped, blinking.

When Officer Thornton said “my friend” was waiting for me, I’d been half-hoping he meant May. She’s legally my twin sister, thanks to some clever paperwork created by Countess April O’Leary of Tamed Lightning; she would have been the logical person for the police to call, if they were going to call anyone.

It wasn’t May.

Tybalt was standing near the center of the room with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and an uneasy expression on his face, as though he wasn’t sure what he was doing there, either. He was wearing a human disguise that turned his tabby-striped brown hair solidly black and painted round pupils in his eyes. I caught myself smiling and hastily swallowed the expression. I didn’t want to be glad to see him. I couldn’t help myself.

“Hi, Tybalt,” I said and started for the door. “Did everything get taken care of?”

His anxiety vanished in a flash, replaced by a more customary air of mild hauteur. “Once I realized you intended to spend the evening in the company of the police, I saw to it the job was properly completed. Those children will no longer be peddling poison on these streets.” He fell into step beside me. “You may show your gratitude later, in whatever way you deem fit.”

“And meeting me at the police station?”

“I thought it might prove entertaining.” He sighed. “Sadly, I am again disappointed.”

“Sorry I let you down. Maybe if you’d brought popcorn, the cops would have felt the need to step up their game.” I reached for the door leading out to the street. Tybalt slipped past me, opening it before I could. I kept walking. “I’m fine, really.”

“October…”

It was late enough that the stretch of Valencia Street outside the police station was virtually deserted. The lights were on at the local bars—last call was more than an hour away—and a few homeless people huddled in doorways or panhandled around the ATMs, but for the most part, we were alone. I still glanced around to be sure that there were no officers on the sidewalk before I said, “I’m a little dizzy, but it’s nothing some orange juice and new jeans won’t fix. How did you know I was here?”

“I saw the police take you. I couldn’t prevent it. So I dropped by your house to see whether anyone was intending to collect you.” Tybalt shrugged. “You know what they say about curiosity and cats. Your lady Fetch said she would appreciate it if I would bring you home. As I try never to argue with death omens, here I am.”

“What, May couldn’t come herself?” May is my former Fetch and current housemate. Not a normal living arrangement, even in Faerie, but she’s willing to do at least one thing I’m not: the dishes. Her girlfriend, Jazz, is a raven in her spare time.

“She was otherwise occupied.”

“Doing what?”

Tybalt ignored my question. “I offered. She accepted. I felt we could stand to spend some time actually conversing. We’ve both been rather occupied of late.”

“No, Tybalt, we haven’t been. I’ve been avoiding you. Which is a change from the way things normally go, but change is good, right?” I buried my hands in my jacket pockets. “I needed some time.”

“I know,” said Tybalt, tone suddenly sober. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. So am I.”

Our relationship—it was too rocky to call it a friendship, although I didn’t have a better word—has always been punctuated by long periods of absence. It’s just that usually Tybalt was the absent one, while I was the one trying to find him. This time…after Connor died, I didn’t want to deal with anyone, especially not anyone complicated. Tybalt can be a lot of things, but if there’s one thing he’s never been, it’s simple.

“About earlier…” I began, then stopped, unsure how to finish the sentence. The fae prohibition against something as simple as saying “thank you” can be clumsy sometimes. Like now. The gang of changelings would have stuck around to finish me off if Tybalt hadn’t stepped in. It was as if my ability to be careful had died with Connor, and I hadn’t figured out a way to resurrect it yet.

“The house seems nice,” Tybalt said, tone neutral.

I recognized the conversational save and grabbed it with both hands. “We’re almost unpacked. I’m getting used to it. It’s nice to have everyone in their own room, so I don’t trip over Quentin every time I go to get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m glad Sylvester was able to arrange the move.”

“Me, too.” My liege, Sylvester Torquill, had been trying to get me to move out of my apartment for years. When I gave up Goldengreen—the knowe that was briefly in my possession—Sylvester put his foot down, insisting that if I wasn’t willing to move into Shadowed Hills, I was at least going to move into a place where I wasn’t sharing walls with humans. I’d responded by saying I wouldn’t move out of San Francisco. It was the Queen’s territory, and it was a long way from Shadowed Hills, but it was home. After some arguing, he acquiesced, and I took possession of one of the many houses he and his wife owned the title to.