“It might have come in off the astral,” I said. “Wherever its origin, we have to find it and send it back, or better yet, defeat it. Trouble is, we have no idea how strong it is, or what its vulnerabilities are.”
“Yeah, I thought about that.” Herne nodded to a fork in the road ahead. “We turn here, onto Fifty-seventh Street. From there, it’s a jog to the left and we pull into the parking lot at Groveland Beach Park.”
Mercer Island was a haven to the rich, mostly human, population. The houses were kept in pristine shape, and gated communities were standard. As we passed through the streets, there seemed to be an odd superficial feel to the place. Oh, it was pretty, but it felt very chrome and glass, almost stark even among all of the trees. The lawns were perfectly manicured, the hedges smooth and even, and nothing stood out of place as unique or different. All in all, it was a cookie-cutter community.
We pulled into the park, which was a little bigger than the one we’d been at before. Herne eased into a parking spot, and we set out on the trail, headed down to the beach.
The trail led through a small stand of trees, opening out onto the shoreline. Across the lake, we could see the hilly knoll of Seward Park, and to the northwest, the more distant shoreline of Seattle. Here, patchy grass offered a place to spread out a blanket for a picnic, and a compacted sand shore looked out into the water, complete with a walkway onto a pier. Ladders dipped into the water for swimmers to hold onto. There was a small bathhouse a few hundred yards away, as well as park benches every few hundred yards.
Near the bathhouse, a man in uniform was waiting. He looked like a cop.
“Don’t say anything when we meet him. Let me do the talking,” Herne warned us.
Viktor nodded, looking used to this.
We walked over to the man, who was leaning against the blue brick building. He straightened up when he saw us, and gave Herne a slow nod.
“Nice day,” Herne said. “Any news today?”
“Yeah. Found it on the body. Check your stash.” And with that, the cop cut through the trees to head up the trail.
Herne walked over to the trashcan and pushed back the flap, reaching in to pull out a small plastic bag. He waited until the cop was out of sight, then opened it. Inside, there was what looked like a computer jump drive. Slipping it into his pocket, he motioned to us.
I wanted to ask what had just happened, but Viktor wasn’t saying a word, and I decided to keep my mouth shut until I knew it was okay to speak. For all I knew, cops had the park bugged or something.
Once we reached the car, Herne pulled out a mini-computer and powered it up. He plugged in the jump drive and a document appeared, along with a number of files.
“Well, what do have we here?”
“What is it?” I asked craning my neck, trying to see.
“Our informant found this on the body, and it looks like some interesting information here.” He glanced up as Viktor leaned forward to look over the backseat. “By the way, our victim’s name is Kevin Mason. Was…Kevin. Poor kid. But it looks like he’s been doing some snooping around. There’s a file labeled ‘TirNaNog,’ and a file labeled ‘UnderLake,’ and several others. We need to take this back and have Yutani analyze it. I want to know what this kid got himself into. Unfortunately, I have the feeling whatever it was, also got him killed.”
YUTANI POCKETED THE jump drive when Herne handed it to him, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Always happy to help,” he said, heading off toward his office.
Angel was wrapped up reading through the office email, and Talia was nowhere to be seen. Viktor excused himself, leaving Herne and me in the reception room.
Herne glanced at me. “Come in my office and have a talk?”
I followed him back to his office, wondering what it would look like. I got a surprise when we entered the room. I had expected form and function, but this was nothing like what I had anticipated.
The room was fairly large, the walls pale sky blue, with a white ceiling. It was filled with plants, all of which looked healthy and lush, and a pair of massive antlers was mounted on the far wall. They were polished to a high sheen. A large case against one wall held a number of weapons behind locked glass doors. I saw at least four handheld cross bows, a regular bow, a number of blades—including a sword—and some various hand-to-hand combat weapons.
To one side sat a mini fridge, and next to it, a table holding a microwave. The desk was walnut, the dark wood shone under the light, and the accompanying leather chair was black. They both sat beneath the antlers. To the right, a cot was made up with two thick pillows and a microfiber blanket. To the left, a pair of wingback chairs sat kitty-corner next to a small end table. In front of the desk was another pair of wingback chairs.
“Nice digs.” I looked around, but saw no pictures of any kind other than a couple paintings on the wall that were autumn landscapes.
Herne moved around behind the desk, taking his seat. He motioned to one of the chairs opposite. “Sit down. Do you want something to drink? More coffee, or maybe some juice?”
“Water, if you have it.” I wanted more coffee but I knew my body could use some water, and I felt jarred. Maybe it was the interaction of the water elementals, or the knowledge that we were looking into a fourteen-year-old’s death. Whatever the case, my nerves felt on edge.
“Flavored or plain? I have lemon and berry flavors.” He moved to the small refrigerator.
“Berry is good.” I accepted the bottle of water and leaned back in the chair. The leather was so soft it reminded me of a baby’s butt. I let out a sigh as I opened the water and swigged it back.
“Feeling overwhelmed?” Herne returned to his seat, bringing his feet up to rest on his desk. I cringed when I saw his boots touched the pristine wood. He must have noticed because he slipped his feet back on the floor and sat up, dusting off the desk.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I suppose ‘overwhelmed’ is a good word for it. So much has happened the past couple of days that I think I’m still in mild shock.” I hesitated for a moment.
“What is it? I’d rather you come out and say it than hide any resentment or worry.”
“It’s not resentment. In fact, I think this is going to be a good gig. It sure beats scrounging up clients on my own, even though I do like working for myself.”
I tried to find the right words. Finally, I said, “I think that dealing with this much death is taking a toll on me. I’ll adapt, but I’m not used to dealing with murders. The last time I had to face anything so gruesome was when I found my parents. I’ve killed goblins and the like, but innocent victims, I haven’t dealt with very much. Usually the goblins are thieves or they’re causing a ruckus. They aren’t supposed to be here anyway.”
I wondered if he’d think I was weak and reconsider having taken me on. But he just gave me a long, considered look.
“It always takes time to adapt. I’d be worried if you didn’t feel some sort of reaction. Angel’s having a harder time of it, I can tell. She and I talked earlier on. She’s definitely not used to this sort of activity. I suspect the fact that we had to relocate her brother to safer territory is also eating at her. But there’s not much we can do about it. I’ll arrange for her to talk to him on the phone soon, and that should help ease her concerns.”
“I appreciate it. Angel’s my blood, even though we don’t have an actual family connection. And DJ’s a good kid. I guess looking into a teenager’s death hit home today. I keep thinking about DJ and how close he came to being killed.” I paused. “In the woods, how did you happen to be around when I was tracking DJ?”