The Keeper Ch. 35-37

Chapter Thirty-Five

Quinn sat quietly in an ornate chair that looked like it might have graced some French noble's estate during the reign of Louis XIV. As he waited for the Vampire who was Oldtown's mayor to awaken, he looked around. The room matched the chair. In his mind, he had expected a vampire's place to be more baroque-- maybe with blood-red walls with a gold leaf trim. Instead, the room was white--blinding white. Heavy white swag curtains blocked the daylight. The bed was a huge California king canopied with gossamer panels of white silk.

The sleeping vampire, Luciana Marinus, provided the contrast. From what he could see, her silken pajamas were scarlet, her long hair midnight black against white satin pillows.

Quinn watched her awaken with amusement. She awoke and stiffened when she registered that there was an intruder in her bedroom--then made a production of blinking herself awake. Her hand casually reached for the knife under the pillow on the other side of the bed.

"Easy vampire," he said. "I'm not here to hurt you--unless you want to commit suicide and go for the knife under your pillow."

She sat up in bed. Her scarlet silk pajama top fell open, revealing a perfectly shaped alabaster breast.

"Who the hell are you?"

Quinn tossed her a robe. "Cover yourself and get up. We need to talk. Please don't alert the amazons sitting outside. They have done nothing to me, I have no desire to cause them any hurt."

He thought the vampire was a very impressive woman. Her luminous hazel eyes had held no panic, just a hint of surprise that was rapidly being replaced with curiosity. He guessed you learned a thing or two about adapting quickly to new circumstances when you've been alive for a thousand years or so.

He reached down and lifted the bag that held the Leprechaun's head and set it on the bedside table.

"Before we start, look in the bag."

She sat up and gathered the robe around her shoulders. Her eyes widened and her mouth made a moue of disgust as she saw what the bag held.

"Is that loathsome thing supposed to scare me?

Quinn smiled, "I'd bet good money that you don't allow anything to scare you. I'm hoping to get your attention--and I'm hoping that you're smarter than the idiot in the bag."

"Well, you have my attention, what do you want?"

"I'm not sure what you would call the political system that runs this city, maybe a kleptocracy or oligarchy. I was more interested in my tutor's fly-fishing lessons than his civics classes. Doesn't matter. I know you are one of the Three that run the city. The others--well, one of the partner's head is in the bag on your table and the other is a being, known as the Druid.

He's next on my list.

You all have an issue in your town that needs fixing. Child-Slavers. What I'm trying to figure out is how deep a problem it is. What do you know about it?"

"Not much. I assume it goes on, but since I'm not involved, I pay no attention to it."

Quinn thought that she was a pretty good liar--excellent, even. She'd had centuries to practice, after all.

"I first found out about it a couple of years ago," Quinn continued, "I was propositioned, a couple of blocks from here, by the way, by a twelve-year-old mundane girl named Lark. She was a skinny little thing, desperate and scared. Funny thing, she had a Sidhe slave collar around her neck. I took it upon myself to have a chat with your partner--the guy whose head currently resides in that bag. I warned him then about enslaving babies, but the warning didn't take. Now, I know that the fact it continued is partially my fault--I should have ended him then, but at the time, I was trying to turn over a new leaf and quit killing beings who offended me."

"I'm going to send for some coffee, would you like some?"

"If you promise not to poison me, sure."

Luciana smiled. "I promise, but how do you know I won't?"

"Not a problem. I can tell when you're lying. My compliments though, you are an awesomely good liar."

She stared at him with narrowed eyes, then shrugged and walked to a pull rope and signaled for her wait staff.

Two tall amazon women entered the room, one carrying a carafe and a cup. Quinn thought them typical of the tribe. Almost as tall as him, with slender dancers' bodies. All muscle and bone. Faintly oriental dark brown eyes. They were definitely sisters, almost twins.

They stopped in shocked surprise when they saw him.

Before they could gather themselves. He stood and thumped his right hand and arm on his chest.

"I see you, sister warriors," he said in ancient Scythian. "Peace."

"I see you, brother warrior," they replied automatically. Then they turned shocked faces to the Vampire for direction.

She was looking at Quinn with her mouth open. "Who the fuck are you? How do you speak their language? As far as I know, nobody but the tribe has spoken it for two thousand years."

"Oh, I didn't introduce myself, did I. I'm Lachlan Quinn. I live over on the other side in Ballard. I had an opportunity to visit the tribe once."

Luciana poured herself a cup of coffee. And sipped it while one of the bodyguards left to fetch a cup for Quinn.

"I'm a bit confused, Mr. Quinn. Did you break into my bedroom to apply for the Leprechaun's position?"

"No way, I'm a pretty fair finish carpenter. In fact, you have some doors that were hung by an idiot. If you decide to fix 'em, I'm your man, but I'd be a bust as a criminal mastermind."

That drew a disbelieving look from the vampire and an involuntary laugh from her bodyguard.

"Now, let me finish my story. The same thing happened today as soon as I passed into Oldtown if you can believe it. Except this time, it was two little mundane girls and they were each wearing Sidhe slave torcs. So, I put it to you, Luciana Marinus, what do you know about slavers enabled by the Sidhe operating in your city. I ask you because after meeting you, I'm positive it's your city."

The other Amazon returned with a cup. Quinn thanked her politely and poured himself a cup of coffee. As he poured, his sleeve pulled up revealing the tiny rune tattoo and start of the silvery symbiote.

"Shadow-walker," the bodyguard hissed. Her sister stiffened.

The vampire absently waved them off. She continued to eye Quinn speculatively.

"So now things come a little clearer, Mr. Quinn. You're the new Keeper I've been hearing about. My world is shifting in front of my eyes."

He scowled at the Keeper title but nodded.

"Up until now, Oldtown has had three beings running things. I have been the public face of The Three. My partners and I worked out an agreement to share power by delineating three separate areas of control where we rule absolute. Up until recently, that partnership has been effective." She looked up at Quinn to see if he was following what she said.

He nodded and waved her to continue.

"For some reason, the Leprechaun got greedy and stupid and starting playing games with the Sidhe. I don't know any more than that and that's been my problem. I'm not stupid--I know the business of child slaving is self-destructive. But before I could act, I needed to understand just what was going on. Because when the Sidhe are involved, things are murky, to say the least."

"Fair enough," Quinn said. "I figure Niamh Harpe can help me with the being they call the Druid. So, I came looking for her. The Leprechaun said he sent her to Alfheim. How would his men have traveled there?

"Probably north toward one of the portals close to Opari."

"One more question and I'll leave you in peace. There's a Hag running around Emory, she's got to be pretty far gone. I'm convinced somebody from Oldtown is pulling her strings. Who do you think is running her?

"I'd bet on the Druid. He's a master manipulator and ever since I've known him, he's been oddly obsessed with Emory and especially all things to do with the old Keeper."

"How long have you known him?"

"Not that long, maybe fifty years or so."

"Thanks, Ms. Marinus, I'll see myself out. I enjoyed our talk and thanks for offering me coffee. It was delicious. Let me know about those doors."

As Quinn left, his hyper-sensitive hearing picked up the bodyguard's question.

"You think he's as good as they say?"

"Better, I'd bet," said the Vampire. "Interesting and frightening is our Mr. Quinn. One doesn't often meet a violent man who has learned that violence is the last refuge of the incompetent. You two need to spend some time and figure out how the hell he got into my bedroom without you noticing."

Quinn came away from the meeting with the vampire, feeling a bit better about his situation. He had a target. He remained nonplussed about other things. Somehow, sometime, he had gone all-in on the situation in Emory and all-in was the last thing he had wanted.

He shook his doubts off. Now to see if he could get Niamh out of whatever jam she was in so she could help him with this Druid.

After checking to see if the two girls were okay at Edie's. Quinn stopped at a stable on the north side of the city and rented a horse. He was saddling a tall buckskin gelding when he heard cursing behind him.

"Settle down, you miserable fucking excuse for a horse."

Quinn turned to find Kirk Falstad, the big Ursa-shifter he'd met earlier, trying to saddle a horse that kept sidling away as he lifted the saddle to its back.

"Hey, Kirk, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello Lachlan, I thought I'd take a little ride up north. Clear my head of all the stress of living in the big city."

"Huh, well isn't that a coincidence? I was doing the same. The Vampire must have you on some sort of instant call, I just left her."

The big man didn't respond to that, just smiled and said, "Well, Niamh is my friend, after all, I thought I'd ride along."

Quinn laughed and climbed on his horse and laughed again as Kirk's horse seemed to groan as the big man climbed aboard.

"You're gonna have to carry that poor horseback to town, I bet."

The two men rode out.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Niamh Harpe leaned against a wagon wheel in the darkening night and cursed the fates. She bitterly regretted her decision not to lead the group into the Opari. Jeffery moaned, a dream or nightmare, so she put her arm around him and cuddled him close and he settled down. The little guy seemed to have adopted her, he hadn't left her side. She didn't want to think about the ramifications of that.

The previous evening, she had managed to round up four of the runaway horses and get them back to camp, but the horses had been ridden all day, so they needed rest. It was mid-morning by the time they managed to get two of the biggest horses hitched to the wagon, get the children fed, and started moving back to town.

Far too late to escape their pursuers.

The riders caught up with them at suppertime. Six men and two Dökkálfar lordlings loomed out of the darkness and surprised them.

The subsequent hum of torcs activating stopped any thought she might have had of resistance to the arrogant beings. Niamh hated the Sidhe, probably because she always felt helpless in the face of their powerful magic and she despised feeling helpless. It went against everything she had worked for in her life.

The good news was this group of men was disciplined. The two Sidhe lordlings were cold, but not cruel. It was clear they regarded the kids and herself the same way a human might look at a herd of cows--valuable livestock to be cared for and fed.

They allowed Niamh and the slave woman to feed the children and get them bedded down underneath the wagon. They were all piled under the wagon like fourteen puppies squirming and muttering complaints while they tried to get comfortable.

A big hand covered her mouth and a whisper sounded so close to her ear that it tickled the hair on the back of her neck.

"Hiya Nim."

Fucking Lachlan Quinn. Her first reaction was to punch him for sneaking up behind her and scaring her. The second was to bite his hand because she knew she'd never hear the end of this. The third was to kiss him for being there.

What she did was whisper, "What took you so long?"

She felt him shake with soundless laughter as his hands were busy with the torc.

It fell away.

"Hang tight for a minute. Kirk Falstad is right behind me. Wait for my signal. I am going to try to end this, so nobody has to die."

One minute he was there, the next he was gone.

She felt Kirk move up beside her.

"Fucking social worker," his deep voice whisper growled. "We should just kill 'em all and let The Mother sort 'em out."

She agreed wholeheartedly, but obeyed Quinn's directive and silently watched to see what would happen.

So suddenly that it surprised even her. He was standing by the fire reaching down to pour himself a cup of coffee that simmered there.

"Evening all." Quinn smacked his lips as he tasted the coffee. "I do like me a cup of cowboy coffee. I like a few eggshells in the pot while brewing, it makes the coffee less bitter."

As he talked, Niamh quickly stripped and shifted.

The six men, stunned, stared at Quinn--then cursed and started to get to their feet.

"If I was you and thanks to the Mother I'm not. I'd sit right back down. Behind you are a couple of shifters, a big pissed-off grizzly and a panther that I'm sure feels the need to tear out a throat or two. Just look over your shoulder there. See her? Now notice that tail twitching, that's not a sign of nervousness. Nope, that's eagerness. So again, if I were you, I'd sit back down and not even twitch. But you do what you want."

He turned to the elves and sang:

"You are a long way from your clan's hall, O Elves, I assume you are Erendriel's vassals. Why are you this close to Oldtown? It is forbidden."

"This livestock was promised to us. We take what is ours."

"Well, that is not going to happen today, O Elf, not today."

To the watching Niamh, Quinn seemed to change before her eyes. His joking persona morphed into something dangerous and sudden. She noticed that the elves' lazy arrogance disappeared.

"There is no need for your true death on this day. Go back to your clan's hall."

Oh, Sweet Mother of All, Lan. You're gonna get yourself killed. No human could stand against a single Sidhe, let alone a pair.

The two lordlings looked at each other and as one drew their black blades and moved, their attacks came so fast they blurred even to Niamh's keen eyes.

But Quinn was no longer there. Impossibly, he was three feet to one side wielding a shrieking silvery ribbon. There was a blurred flash and the bodies of two Sidhe lordlings lay headless by the fire.

"Fuck me!" Kirk whispered behind her.

Niamh nodded. It was less a fight than an execution--shockingly quick and suddenly dead.

Lachlan walked over to the six humans sitting open-mouthed by the fire.

"Guys, it's time for you to move on out of here, don't you think?"

Pale-faced, they stood as one and watching him fearfully, walked out into the night. One started to walk faster, then run--soon they all were running pell-mell out into the dark.

"You stupid bastards. You didn't have to die." Quinn was looking down at the two Sidhe lordlings, his face a mixture of regret and anger. "I am so sick of this fucking shit."

Lachlan walked away from the group as soon as they got the kids back to Oldtown. He'd been quiet and withdrawn the whole way back.

"What's wrong, Lan? You saved the kids, not to mention me from an unpleasant lifetime of slavery."

Kirk nodded his agreement. He'd been quiet as well. Probably, Niamh thought, trying to figure out what to tell the vampire.

"Fucking Erendriel," Quinn swore viciously "The elves have an incredibly low birthrate. Maybe one or two babies are born a decade. The whole race celebrates a birth. Those two were just kids, Nim. They looked like adults, but they probably were not even a hundred--barely out of puberty. I killed the elven equivalent of a couple of fourteen-year-olds. Those two were so dumb they didn't even know they were dumb. Erendriel stuffed them full of cultural superiority and sent them here. Even though there was a chance they'd run into me."

He scrubbed his face with his hands.

"I will see you two later. I have a couple of kids I need to get situated." Quinn gave them both a nod and walked away.

***

Niamh and Kirk decided it was only justice that the Leprechaun's dinner club feed the kids they'd rescued. The place was in full swing getting ready for the night's business. Apparently, the demise of the owner was not enough to close down even for an hour.

The supercilious half-blood air-sprite who was the Maître D' looked aghast when the group filled the front end of the restaurant. One look at Kirk and he swallowed his attitude.

The children were standing wide-eyed, except for Jeffery who hadn't left her side.

"Put up the closed sign," Niamh ordered. "Get these kids seated and take care of them like your life depends on it--because it does.

"Go ahead kids, grab a table and we'll get you some dinner.

The kitchen slaves were prepping food and chattering a mile a minute. When she walked in the chatter abruptly stopped.

"Where's the chef?'

A rotund, mundane human walked out from a cooler in the corner.

"Hey, you, get the hell out of my fucking kitchen. You're interrupting my dinner prep."

"Your regular dinner rush is not going to happen, chef. I have some kids that need to be fed. I'm thinking something light, like chicken soup and maybe some fresh bread. These kids haven't seen many meals. And it would be a good idea to get a lot of coffee ready for the horde of council cops that are going to descend on this place. By the way, take a more respectful tone with me or I'm going to slice and dice you like one of those chickens this being is working on.

The chef looked at her doubtfully, "I'll have to check with Mr. McGuire, of course."

"Just do what I say. You haven't heard, but the Leprechaun pissed off the wrong guy and won't be objecting to anything anymore."

Niamh walked out of the kitchen and found her boss, Harlan pacing back-and-forth bellowing orders to a bunch of council cops. He stopped when he saw her approach.

"I was just about to get out and call you. Why are you here?"

"I came down this morning. I haven't heard from you for a couple of days, so I thought I better get down here and check things out. Somebody took out the Leprechaun. One of the watchers I placed saw you herding kids into the restaurant."

He looked at her with a disapproving expression.

"Niamh, you really are a bull in a china shop. I asked you to do some detecting, you know, like a fucking detective. I asked you to report in regularly too. I don't remember giving you permission to go around cutting off the heads of prominent citizens and their aides."

"That was all Lachlan Quinn. All I managed to do was get myself captured. The Leprechaun was in business with the Dökkálfar. He's been trading children for drugs. I stumbled in here like a rookie and got myself torc-ed for my trouble.

"Well, now that's fucking embarrassing, isn't it? Maybe that's a good lesson for you. You been getting too big for your britches lately."

"You're right," she growled. "Just remember one thing, boss. The reason I got captured so easily was that you told me that the Leprechaun was your CI. I took your word for it. Talk about fucking embarrassing. Turns out he's the bad guy and he played you."

"Yeah," he said grudgingly, "guess there have been enough screw-ups to cover us all in shit. At any rate, he wasn't smart enough to be the mastermind behind this. I'll take care of the kids here. You get your butt up to Emory and nose around. And for fuck's sake be careful. Maybe we can still rescue some good from all this bad. Don't forget to keep me informed."