Mark Del Franco - Undone Deeds

“You get a lot of moles in the Guild?” Murdock asked.

Keeva’s glance flashed with dismissiveness. “Why no, Detective. I’m shocked to hear it. How old did you say you were, by the way? I can’t tell if you’re wearing diapers under those pants.”

Murdock narrowed his eyes at me. “Did she imply she’s looking at my ass?”

“What’s with all the antagonism, Keeva? I mean, more than usual?” I asked.

The corners of her mouth turned down as she stared at the victim. “We’ve lost a lot of people, Connor. This guy may have been low-level stupid, but he was helping with disaster recovery. Every person lost is more work for everyone.”

“Well, maybe the Guild….” I began.

Keeva held her hand up. “Connor, I don’t want to hear one of your anti-Guild rants. Not today. People who were my friends are dead. People you knew are dead, so give it a break.”

I wasn’t going to go off on the Guild, but that Keeva thought that would be my first reaction under the circumstances was embarrassing. I guessed I had become a one-note ranter in her mind. “I was going to say maybe the Guild should beef up security. Donor Elfenkonig destroyed the Guildhouse, and now someone you need to manage the crisis is dead. That’s all I was going to say, to be careful.”

She nodded, peering down the street. “Good advice, considering you were there, too, when the Guildhouse came down. Leave, Connor. Now, before I do something we both regret.”

I took a deep breath. “How is Ryan?”

I tried to warn macGoren that Vize was up to something. I tried to stop what happened. MacGoren didn’t listen. He was arrogant, ambitious, and an ass. He had survived the destruction of the Guildhouse. He had also been injured—seriously, I had been told—but no one would give me any details.

Keeva fired up her hands with essence. “Alive, no thanks to you. Detective Murdock, explain to your friend that if he does not get out of here, I will incinerate him where he stands, and there is not a damned thing you and your badge can do about it.”

The police and firefighters nearby were listening. More than a few had smiles on their faces. Murdock tugged at my sleeve. “Come on, Connor. This isn’t going anywhere.”

I let him pull me away. I was more hurt than angry. Keeva and I had been partners. We might not have been the best of friends, but we got along, at least until she met macGoren. MacGoren’s injuries were his own damned fault, no matter what she had been told.

I slumped in the passenger seat of Murdock’s car. “That sucked.”

He started the engine and pulled away from the scene. “I think she was serious about incinerating you.”

“Nah. That’s Keeva’s way of saying she cares,” I said.

Murdock circled around the block and brought us back to Old Northern Avenue. “A lot of people seem to show their affection for you that way.”

That was an understatement. After a career as a Guild investigator, I had more than my share of enemies. The funny part was, all those old enemies left me alone now. I wasn’t a player anymore, so I didn’t factor into their plans. Instead, I seem to be making a career of turning friends against me. Keeva and I had always been competitive, but things had changed since she met Ryan macGoren. I used to think she was being a social climber, that she couldn’t possibly see anything in him. I wasn’t so sure anymore. She seemed genuinely attached to him and genuinely upset that he had almost died.

When people I considered friends started siding with people who wanted me dead, I had little hope things would get better.

After Murdock dropped me off, I returned to my room in the Tangle. I had a bed, a couple of armchairs, a bathroom, and a corner that pretended it was a kitchenette. What it lacked in amenities, it made up for in seclusion and security. I had been offered better accommodations from Ceridwen but turned them down. Accepting a nice, comfortable apartment in the Tangle would have been accepting that I lived in the Tangle. I wanted to pretend it was temporary, like my apartment in the Weird had been temporary, if three years and counting could be considered temporary.

After the fall of the Guildhouse, Ceridwen rescued me and provided me with a safe haven. She didn’t have anything to lose by associating with me. For one thing, no one knew she was in the city. For another, she was Dead, murdered by Bergin Vize and barred from TirNaNog when I had destroyed the gate to the fey afterlife. I might have destroyed the whole realm, but no one knew for sure, like no one knew if Faerie still existed.

After taking a quick shower, I joined Ceridwen for what had become a regular meeting for conversation. Her private rooms were as extravagant as one would expect of a fairy queen. Fine, sleek furniture filled the living room, lush draperies in orange florals hung from the windows, and hand-woven rugs in muted shades of green and blue covered the floors. Everything about them spoke of glamour and money except the view. We sat at a table beneath a brick arch, the top of the frame of a warehouse Palladian window. The Tangle spread below, ramshackle rooftops of water towers and chimneys, odd plumes of essence rising and falling in dark colors. It wasn’t beautiful, but it was fascinating to watch.

Ceridwen didn’t wear her red leather Hunter getup in her private quarters, but more casual, feminine outfits. Today she wore a light, sleeveless blouse and orange shorts. She tucked her shoeless feet up on the seat as she studied the chessboard between us. If it weren’t for her diaphanous wings moving with a languid ripple in the air-conditioning, she could have been mistaken for a young woman passing the time on a hot day. She moved a pawn across the board.

“Your move,” she said.

We had taken to playing chess, a game we both loved but rarely played because no one would play us. We were pleasantly surprised to find we were evenly matched. I moved a bishop into position. “I’ve heard the police aren’t coming into the Tangle at all anymore.”

Ceridwen’s eyes shifted back and forth as she surveyed the board. She took the bishop out with a knight. “Your move.”

I pursed my lips. I didn’t think she’d expose the knight, but I wasn’t going to let it slide. I moved my rook and took the knight off the board. “It’s funny, ’cause violent crime has actually gone down.”

Without pausing, she moved her bishop to protect her king. “Your move,” she said

The board was getting tight, but I saw a scenario that would gain me an advantage. I shifted a pawn one square. “Your move, Your Majesty.”

She captured the pawn with one of her own. She had something going, but I couldn’t see it. I took out the pawn. “Your move.”

She slid her queen along the side of the board, just shy of my men. Something was forming on the board, the lines of conflict crisscrossing.

I saw the opening I wanted and slipped another pawn off the board. “Your move.”

She leaned back in her chair. “I don’t need the police. Given enough latitude, people fall into acceptable behaviors. I need you to go to Ireland,” she said.

“Why me?” I asked.

“I trust you. I’m ready to move my people there, but I need someone on the ground for logistics,” she said.

“My passport’s probably flagged. I doubt I’d set one foot on the plane,” I said.

“Drive to Canada and fly from there. I’d prefer that. I don’t want anyone knowing you’re there except my contacts. They’ll get you what you need,” she said.

“Whom have you recruited to your cause against Maeve?” I asked.

“The Seelie Court is made up of many underKings and -Queens who do not love Maeve,” she said.