Starlight Summons, page 3
Now, twenty years later, there was only the blackened shell left, along with a barn that had managed to escape the fire. Rumors were rife that the mother and father were still there, haunting the charred rubble with the two children who had died.
While most of the walls had caved in, the basement was still intact, though charred, and the stairs leading down to it looked weathered, but still sturdy enough to use.
“This way,” I said. “He’s down there.”
I cautiously approached the stairs, carefully picking through the half-burnt timbers and debris scattered under the snow. Taking a deep breath, I put my foot on the first step. “Faron?” I called out. “It’s Elphyra.”
My boot slid a little, the steps were icy. I hesitated. I could easily break my neck if I stepped wrong. I eyed the rest of the steps, debating the wisdom of attempting the descent.
“Are you alone?” Faron’s voice echoed from the basement.
“Bran’s with me,” I called back.
“I’ll be up. Don’t try to come down here—it’s too dangerous. Hold on!”
I stepped back, standing beside Bran. A moment later, Faron emerged from the depths of the house. Beneath a puffy parka, he was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. His long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes—normally sparkling—looked bloodshot.
“Faron,” I said, taking a half-step toward him.
He crumbled, then, staring at the floor, a look of mingled pain and sorrow filling his face. “I didn’t hurt her,” he whispered. “I promise you.”
Right then, I knew he was telling the truth. “Of course you didn’t.” I glanced at Bran.
Bran let out a sigh. “Faron, come back to the house with us. Please, we want to make sure you’re safe.”
“I guess I have no choice. Last night, when I heard Lucretia was dead, I lost it. Given that I’m no longer the king of the Olympic Wolf Pack, and I’m expected to move, I was already stressed.”
“You have to leave the Pack?” Bran asked.
Faron nodded. “Like most Packs, the Olympic Wolf Pack doesn’t keep ex-kings around. Well, if the king decides to retire on his own, he’s welcome to stay. But the council called me last week. They ordered me to take a fertility test,” he said, staring straight ahead. “If the queen isn’t pregnant by the end of the first year on the throne, the council demands fertility testing from the king. Lucretia was already checked out before the marriage. There’s nothing wrong with her.”
“Talk about nosy,” Bran muttered.
“Right, but it’s our duty to provide an heir as soon as possible. The results came back. The council informed me I’m sterile. I can’t father a child, and that’s formal grounds to remove the king from the throne.” Faron grimaced. “I failed them.”
“You didn’t fail,” I said. “It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe not, but in the eyes of the Pack, I’m not perfect. Pack law doesn’t recognize weak rulers, and given I can’t produce an heir, that makes me weak.”
“What did Lucretia say?” I asked.
“She told me that—while she appreciated the way I treated her—she couldn’t stay with me. She wanted children, and I couldn’t give them to her. I took away her chance at being queen of the Pack. She’s—she was an alpha. She couldn’t stay with someone who lost the crown. She told me she was divorcing me. I wasn’t surprised. From the moment I learned they were taking the crown away, I knew my marriage was over. She’s a social mover—she’d never stay with someone who was so disgraced, even if she loved him. And she didn’t love me. We were fulfilling our duties. I didn’t argue. It wouldn’t be of any use.”
“Why did you come here?” Bran asked.
“I was running under a lot of adrenaline last night. I couldn’t handle any more stress. I grabbed my keys and left. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I just had to get away. So I drove around, trying to figure out what to do. I ended up here. I have no idea why, but I guess I thought I could just hide out while I regained my composure.” He shivered. “I didn’t even think about the weather.”
“You’re freezing,” I said. “Get in the car now.”
Faron seemed almost in a fog. I had never seen him look more broken, except when he was healing up from the injuries he had received helping Bree and me. That had been bad—very bad. I hoped to hell that the shock of what had just happened didn’t trigger some return to the amnesia he had had before.
He followed us to the truck, which had a back cab on it. As he hoisted himself into the backseat, it occurred to me that he looked like he had aged five years since I saw him a few months ago. Stress had a way of beating people down, and for Faron to say he was overwhelmed, well—it had to be bad.
Bran and I closed the doors, and Bran turned on the heat. I could hear Faron’s teeth chattering, and I looked around, then pointed to the other side of the bench seat.
“There should be a blanket beneath that seat. We keep one there in a plastic bag,” I said.
Faron found the blanket and shook it out, wrapping it around his shoulders.
“I’m so tired. I’ve been awake most of the night, just sitting down there in the basement watching the ghosts play.”
“So there are really ghosts there?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” Faron said. There are ghosts aplenty in that old burned-out shell of the house. Right now, I think I’d rather face them than my own ghosts and demons. I just can’t believe this has happened. My life hasn’t been perfect, but the past year has been good enough. Lucretia and I were finding our way to a mutual peace. I never expected a love match when I was told I had to marry for the crown. And while we didn’t love each other, we had a mutual respect and that made up for it. She wanted to be the queen, and she played her part as best she could. I did my best to treat her well, and make sure she was happy.”
“I know you did,” I said.
During the times that Bran and I had gone out to dinner with Faron and Lucretia, it was obvious that they respected one another. I could tell there wasn’t love behind match, but there was an affection that was hard to miss. They were both doing their best to make the pack happy, and to lead it as best as they could. But now, that was shot to hell. The Pack Master had to have an heir, it was tradition.
“What did she say when you told her what the Council told you?” Bran asked.
Faron let out a long sigh. “That’s the thing—they didn’t tell me first. They told the both of us together. I don’t know what happened. Somehow, fate decided to throw me under a bus.”
“Isn’t there anything they can do? Medically?” Bran asked.
Faron shook his head. “Even if there was, it wouldn’t be allowed. Much like many of the Celtic kings of old, any disfigurement, disability, or imperfection is seen as a sign to cast out the leader. At least they didn’t kill me. That was common among some of the older tribes. In some of the high northern packs, a king who’s found wanting is driven into the snows and left to die.”
“Can’t they just evict him from the pack and let him go? And can’t they fallen kings just turn into their wolf selves and run off into the woods?” Bran asked.
Faron shook his head as we drove down the road toward our house.
“No. In fact, their shapeshifting powers are taken away, and they’re forced to trek through the snow without any protection from the weather. It’s just another way to insure they don’t come back to exact revenge. And it absolves the Pack. They can say, “We didn’t actually kill him.” The ousted leaders freeze to death if it’s winter, and during summer, they seldom make it far before being attacked by a bear or other such creature.”
“Pack life isn’t easy, is it?” I asked.
“It’s definitely not for the faint of heart. I don’t think I’ve ever entertained what it would be like to be on the outs, but truth is, plenty of shifters are considered rogue or pariah. I’m just the latest victim.” Faron seemed to be taking the blow awfully well.
“Will you ever be able to go back to them?” I asked.
“No,” Faron said. “Once you’re in exile, that’s for life. There may be a rare exception, but they’re so rare that I can’t even give you an example.”
Bran made a quick stop at the corner market nearest our house. “I’ll be right back. Both of you stay here.”
As he ran inside, I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned around so I was facing Faron, kneeling in my seat. “You can stay with us until you can figure out what to do.”
“Are you sure Bran won’t mind? I know we’ve been friendly at our couples’ dinners, and he seems to be happy to see me. But given our history…” Faron’s voice drifted off, and he turned to face the window.
“It was his suggestion.”
Faron glanced back at me, holding my gaze. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”
“You know I wouldn’t lie to you about something Bran said.” I nodded. “It’s settled. You’re staying with us. I’ll call Daisy and see what I can find out about the accident. I won’t tell her you’re staying with us, if you don’t want me to,” I added.
Faron debated for a moment, then said, “No, you can tell her. I haven’t done anything wrong. I would never hurt Lucretia. Even when she told me she wanted to leave, I understood.”
We sat in silence until Bran returned, carrying two bags of groceries filled with pastries and chips and what looked like several sixpacks of beer. As he started up the car again, I wondered what the hell was going to happen next. Everything had shifted in such a big way.
CHAPTER FOUR
As we entered the house, Fancypants flew out to greet us. He fluttered down to rest on the coffee table. “Faron, hello,” he said, beaming. He had formed an attachment to the wolf shifter when we were seeing each other.
“Hey Fancypants, it’s been awhile.” Faron sounded exhausted.
I could tell he just wanted to rest. “Faron’s tired right now. Maybe we can let him rest before—” I started to say.
“It’s okay,” Faron interrupted. “I’m happy to see FP again. But you’re right. If I could take a shower and get some sleep, I’d really appreciate it.”
“You can have the guest room,” I said, “although I haven’t had a chance to put fresh sheets on the bed.”
My house—or rather, Bran’s and my house now that we were married—had three bedrooms. The largest, we slept in. The second largest was my office and ritual room. And the third was the guest room. The latter had seen a lot of use since my Grams first came over from Scotland, but for the past six months, it had been empty. Fancypants slept in it, curling up on the bed like a cat.
“Come on,” I said. “I’ll get you some towels.” I turned to Bran. “Make him some food?”
Bran nodded. “Will do,” he said, heading for the kitchen. “Hey, what about your brownies?”
“Oh hell! I forgot. They’re ruined now. Can you call…whoever it is that’s in charge and tell them we can’t make it after all? I can order a couple dozen brownies from some bakery to be sent there, if they need.”
“I’ll give them a call,” Bran said.
Faron followed me to the guest room. I stopped at the linen closet to get him a couple towels, a wash cloth, and a hand towel. I also pulled out a second blanket since the one on the bed was thin, and it was chilly. Then, I ducked into our bedroom and dug out one of Bran’s old robes, and a pair of pajamas he hadn’t used yet.
Returning to the guest room, I found Faron had taken off his shirt. I handed him the robe, pjs, and towels. “Go shower. I’ll get the bed ready for you. Bran’s making some breakfast and, after you eat, you can get some rest.”
“Will you call Daisy and ask her if they know anything about Lucretia? I want to know…I guess I just want to know what they found out.” He ducked his head, but I caught sight of the tears that were slowly trickling down his cheek.
“Faron, you really did love her, didn’t you?” I said. Faron was good at hiding his emotions and it seemed like he might have developed more than an appreciation for the woman chosen to be his wife.
He let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe? I don’t think so, but I was fond of her. I cared about her and I wanted her to be happy. I wanted life to work out the way it was supposed to. But that never happens, does it? Does anybody ever get the chance to live the life they dream of?”
I couldn’t answer.
I was happy, yes, but my life had been nearly destroyed a few years back. Anything seemed better compared to that. But, after I’d walked out of the darkest shadow of my life, I realized that I had no idea what I wanted. I only knew I wanted to feel safe. And with Bran, I felt exactly that… Well, as much as I could ever feel safe. But I couldn’t answer Faron. I couldn’t say anything that would help at this time.
“Faron, take your shower. Eat and get some rest. I’ll talk to Daisy.” I spread the blanket on the bed, then turned and left him, ignoring the gorgeous bare chest that I all too easily remembered being pressed up against me.
While Faron showered and Bran finished making eggs, sausages, and toast, I called the sheriff.
Daisy Parker was a tall, lithe puma-shifter, and she was excellent at her job. She was all business, but beneath the badge, she had a heart. And, unlike some authority figures, she wasn’t arrogant. In fact, she was so unassuming that others underestimated her, which often gave her an edge.
“Hey Daisy,” I said as she answered her phone. “I need to talk to you about Faron’s wife.”
“I assume Bree told you,” she said. “Yes, she’s dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Lucretia was a good-hearted person. But, I have some questions that I need to ask you.”
Daisy sighed. “You’ve talked to Faron? And he’s scared, I assume.”
“You assume correctly. He’s here, staying with us. In the past forty-eight hours his entire world has come crashing down. I promised him I’d check with you. He’s afraid that you might suspect him in Lucretia’s death. I think he’s had such an adrenaline rush that he’s hypervigilant.”
“Well, I can tell you this: he’s not a suspect in her death, so ease his mind on that. But Elphyra, I’d like to ask for your help.” Daisy hesitated, then added, “I have a few questions and I think you might be able to help sort them out.”
“Me?”
“You’re good at communicating with ghosts. I want to know if she killed herself on purpose. I want to know if Lucretia committed suicide. And if so, did something drive her to it?”
“You mean like another car? Surely there would be skid marks?”
“No, I’m not talking about that. I think…I think there might have been some creature in the car with her. When we got to the scene of the accident, the passenger door was open. I spotted a few tracks in the snow before they just stopped.”
I froze. “Tracks? Human?”
“Not any human I’ve ever met. These tracks showed a small, round foot, with three long toes. I don’t think it was very big.” She paused, then said, “Maybe the size of your dragonette.”
People knew about Fancypants, even though I did my best to keep him secret. “Dragonettes don’t bond with shifters,” I said.
“I didn’t say that. You asked what size and I told you.” She paused again, then asked, “What kind of feet does your dragonette have?”
“You can come look or I can send you a photo, but he has more than three toes, and his front feet are more like arms, with fingers. Five of them. He’s got his own form of thumbs. You aren’t insinuating anything, are you?” I was probably feeling touchy, but Daisy was starting to irritate me.
“Elphyra, I am not saying I think your dragonette—or you—had anything to do with this. I’m trying to establish size, and some semblance of what it might have looked like.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “But I need your help. Would you be willing to come out to the scene and see what you can find out? You’re the only person I can think to ask.”
I shook off the mood. “All right. I can come out this afternoon. Text me when and where to meet you. Do you need to talk to Faron?”
“I’d like to, but only to ask him some things about Lucretia and her life. Maybe if we can find out who or what she’s been hanging out with, we can get a better feel for who might have wanted her dead.”
“I’ll talk to him, and see if he can meet with you later. He desperately needs sleep. He spent last night huddling out at the Carlton farmstead, hiding in the basement. I don’t think he even knew what he was doing there.” I agreed to meet her at around one-thirty.
Bran and Faron were sitting in the kitchen, eating. I sat down at the table, grabbing a piece of toast to nibble on.
“I talked to Daisy,” I said.
Faron glanced at me. “And?”
“She’d like to talk to you, but not because you’re a suspect. In fact, I’m headed out to the crash scene this afternoon to see if I can help out. Apparently, something crawled out of the passenger seat of her car after she crashed, struggled through the snow a little ways, and then just seems to have vanished. Whatever it was had small feet and three long toes.”
Faron blinked. “Three toes?”
“Right. Daisy wants to talk to you about what Lucretia might have been up to. I told her that you might be able to talk to her this afternoon. She can follow me back, after I’m finished helping her.” I crossed to the espresso machine to make myself a second latte—this time a triple. By now, the morning one felt like it had worn off. “That should give you a chance to sleep for three or four hours.”
“I’ll stay home today,” Bran said. “My mother can handle the immediate chores, and we have help now so the animals are covered.”
As a small town farm, Brambleberry Farm boasted several cows, goats, a lot of chickens, some sheep, and bee hives. May sold honey, preserves, eggs, and meat, along with some charms and other magical goodies. Bran had finally hired help so that May wouldn’t have to work so hard, and he usually put in long days helping the men. He was about as physically fit as you could get.
