A mix of old buildings amidst gleaming new ones, the city was as diverse as a box of crayons. It was a high-tech magnet, and yet there was a startling level of poverty in the city. Rents were steep, and for every penthouse owned by some computer guru, there were two-bedroom apartments filled with families of eight or nine people, trying to make ends meet.
There was a sector of homeless transients, as well. Tent cities cropped up here and there, some by the freeways, some under the numerous overpasses that connected suburb to suburb. For a long time, people had protested their existence. But when the recession continued, the arguments faded and the transitory neighborhoods became just one more fact of life. The rich moved to the suburbs on the northern outskirts, or over to the Eastside, and the core of Seattle—its heart—was left to the lower classes.
I took Greenwood Avenue, southbound, until it turned into Phinney. Then I followed Phinney until we hit Thirty-fourth, where I turned left. From there it was an easy hop onto Fremont Avenue and over the bridge to the Queen Anne area. Another fifteen minutes of stop-and-go traffic saw us down to First Avenue, where I pulled into a parking garage across from the address Herne had given us.
The streets in downtown Seattle were wide, riddled with potholes, and notorious for their awkward placement. But the city felt like home, and the multitude of beautiful old brick buildings and tree-lined streets were in direct juxtaposition to how gritty the city could feel on bleak days in midwinter. As I eased into the parking garage, I grimaced when I saw the rates, but the skies opened and a hard spring rain began to pound down and I was grateful we weren’t parking on the street three or four blocks away.
“Well, at least we’re only across the street from the Wild Hunt. We won’t have far to walk in this mess.” I eased into a parking stall, and pulled out my credit card. “Let me pay for the afternoon and then let’s get going.”
Now that we were actually here, some of my excitement had worn off. I was more nervous than anything else. I kept telling myself that if it was really bad, we could nullify our agreement and take our chances.
Angel and I dashed through the rain, weaving through the pedestrian traffic that filled the sidewalks. A lot of the small boutiques that used to line the streets were gone, and now a profusion of neighborhood markets and delis took their place, along with the brothels that had become so popular. They catered to the fetish personality, each one offering a specialized service. I averted my eyes from one with the name of “Spank-o-Rama” as we passed by. I had my own kinks, but that wasn’t one of them.
The Wild Hunt Agency was in a five-story brick walk-up. There was an elevator, but an out of service sign was plastered across it.
“Wouldn’t you know it? He’s four flights up.”
“Of course.” Angel grinned. “Quit complaining and start climbing stairs. It’s good for you.”
The Wild Hunt Agency took the entire fourth floor.
As we got off the elevator, we found ourselves in the lobby of a spacious waiting room. There was a desk in the center, facing the elevator, and a seating area to the right, with a leather sofa and several upholstered chairs. A water cooler sat in the corner, along with a couple large plants in vivid blue porcelain urns.
There were two doors on the wall behind the desk, a window that overlooked the city streets to the left, and against the right wall, a hallway led further back into the agency. The brick walls were clean, and the lighting was bright, giving an airy feel to the reception room. It was a pleasant surprise, considering how old and grimy the building had looked outside.
We crossed to the desk, but there was no one behind it. Instead, a bell sat on the edge, with a sign propped next to it that read, please ring for service.
I glanced around. There was no one in sight, so I reached out and tapped the bell. A loud chime reverberated through the room, louder than I expected.
“I’m surprised there isn’t somebody waiting for us.” I craned my neck, trying to see around the corner down the hallway, but we were too far from it. I decided it wouldn’t be polite to go snooping just yet.
Just then, the door directly behind the desk opened, and Herne entered the waiting room. He shut the door behind him, and when he saw us he broke out into a smile.
He certainly didn’t look as messy as he had the night before. His hair was smoothed back into a ponytail, and though he still had the closely cropped beard, it looked like he had trimmed it. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a suit jacket with leather patches on the elbows. Beneath the jacket, he wore an olive green sweater with a V-neck, and he had a bronze necklace around his throat, but from this distance I couldn’t tell what the pendant was. He looked just as good as I remembered him looking last night.
He was carrying a file folder, and when he saw us he closed it. “Welcome to the Wild Hunt. I’m glad you actually showed up.” His eyes were twinkling as he said it, but there was a serious note to his voice.
“Has anybody actually not shown up who said they would?” Somehow, it had never occurred to me to stand up a god.
“Actually, yes. Several people. They were in similar situations as you, and unfortunately, they decided to bail on me.” He sat on the corner of the desk, dropping the file folder by the laptop.
“What happened to them?” Angel asked.
“They vanished. Unfortunately, people who make enemies of the Fae often do.” He shrugged, then stood and straightened his jacket. “So are you ready to get to work?”
I nodded. “I guess we’re as ready as we’ll ever be. But you haven’t told us what we’re going to be doing.”
“Well, as you can tell there’s nobody manning the reception desk. Our last receptionist left the agency to have a baby and she’s decided to stay home. Angel, I thought you would be best suited at being our new receptionist. Your ability to read people will be a great help.”
“How did you know that I’m able to read people?” Angel gave him a suspicious look.
He snickered. “Being the son of a god has its perks. I knew right away that you have precognitive abilities. I’m able to sense such things. But when I was doing research on Ember, you came up as her best friend.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “So of course, you researched my background?”
“Of course. And given what happened with your brother, I’m glad that I did. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to move so quickly on getting him into a sanctuary house. By the way, over the next few weeks, I need both of you to acquaint yourselves with all the sanctuary stops around the city. And that includes the Eastside as well. You’ll have to have that information at the tip of your fingers should the client need it—and that goes beyond the scope of our dealings with the Fae. But we can go into that a little later.”
I was beginning to realize that we weren’t just going to be poking our nose into the skirmishes between Light and Dark. It sounded like the Wild Hunt dealt with a number of life and death situations.
“So, Angel, this will be your station. Ember, I’ve decided to put you out on the front with us. You’ll be assisting us with cases. Your background as a freelance bounty hunter will fit right in for that. You already know how to research and track. You’ll have to learn our procedures, of course, but that’s just a matter of memorization. For now, come meet the rest of the team.”
He motioned for us to follow him.
I wasn’t sure why, but I hadn’t expected there to be a “team”—which seemed ridiculous, when I thought about it. He couldn’t work alone, not and run an agency like this. But for some reason I hadn’t gone so far as to wonder who else we’d be working with.
He led us around the corner, into the hallway that I had been curious about. It ran back about fifty feet to an end wall, with three doors on the right side, and one door at the end on the left, near the end. He led us to the first door on the right. The frosted glass pane in the upper half of the door was stenciled with the words break room on it. He turned the knob, and led us in.