“Don’t worry,” she said to Liam. “He’s probably kidding.”
“Right,” Liam said, not looking reassured. He put his beer down with a sigh and turned his chair a little so he was facing Baba. “You know, part of me is almost getting used to all this weird stuff. The other part of me still thinks I’m hallucinating, and should seek out medical help and some form of heavy medication.”
Baba sighed too, more quietly, so he wouldn’t hear. It’s not as though she really thought he was going to be okay with witches and dragons and magical doorways. But a girl could dream.
“I’d stick with beer if I were you,” she made herself say in a bright tone. “Fewer side effects, and less likely to get you locked up in a room with padded walls.” She shrugged. “Besides, the weird stuff is only temporary. We’ll solve the Maya problem, get your missing kids back, and I’ll hit the road to chase down the next Baba Yaga call. Everything will go back to normal.” Liam winced, no doubt in response to her weak attempt at a smile.
“Normal,” he said flatly. “I’m not sure I’d even recognize it anymore.”
He gazed at her for a moment and asked, in the tones of a man who wasn’t sure he really wanted an answer, “So, was that actually you last night? The little old lady who called herself Babushka?”
Chudo-Yudo snorted, spraying beer foam over Liam’s shoes. “It’s traditional.”
“Traditional?”
“The Baba Yaga usually appears as an old crone,” Baba explained. “The tales got a little exaggerated over the years, and gave her iron teeth and a long nose that bent down to meet her equally long chin, which curved up.” She felt her own nose a little self-consciously; really it wasn’t that long. Just a bit, um, regal. “I still use the old woman guise on occasion, but it is just a glamour. Illusion.”
“An impressive one,” Liam said. “You had me fooled for quite a while, and I’m pretty sure that my deputies still think they met someone’s not-very-sweet grandmother.”
He thought about it for a moment. “So, Maya’s dramatic bruises and colorful black eye—was that all a glamour too?”
Baba nodded. “A glamour on top of her already existing illusion of a beautiful Human woman.” She grimaced. “If she’s really a Rusalka, I assure you, her true form isn’t nearly that attractive. Unless you like deathly-pale green skin, stringy hair that looks like seaweed, and long sharp pointy teeth.”
Liam made a face. “No thanks, not my type.” His eyes strayed to Baba’s wild hair for a moment, and she tried to smooth it down before giving up with an annoyed mental shake. As if she cared what his type was, and that she clearly wasn’t it. Bah. Humans. Way too complicated.
“I’m sure Maya will lie low for a couple of days, then reappear, miraculously healed except for a few tiny, tasteful bruises to get her sympathy,” Baba growled. “And in the meanwhile, people will still be giving me dirty looks, no matter what lengths the Ivanovs and Belinda went to in order to clear my name.”
“I think she’s definitely lying low,” Liam said, looking thoughtful. “Today was remarkably quiet; no irate calls from farmers whose machinery had been sabotaged overnight, or neighbors wanting to blame each other for something crazy. I even managed to get some work done in the office.” He reached down and picked up the folder he’d brought.
“Is that the information we got from Peter Callahan’s office?” Baba perked up. Finally, something concrete to focus on. Besides the sheriff’s flat abs and strong arms, that is. And his own particular masculine scent, which seemed to winnow its way straight to her core. “Were you able to come up with anything helpful?”
Even Chudo-Yudo sat up and paid attention as Liam opened the folder and tilted his notes so he could see them better in the arcing white light from the trailer behind them.
“I think so,” Liam said, scooting his chair closer to Baba’s, the dragon-dog circling around to sit at their feet. His tail inadvertently hung into the fire for a moment before he twitched it away, but the heat didn’t seem to bother him.
“I double-checked the three missing kids against the list of families in the green files, and they’re all in there,” Liam said.
His hands clenched on the folder until the papers inside crunched like dry bones in an abandoned graveyard.
“Ah,” Baba said, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. The best cure for both of their frustration and anger would be to concentrate on catching Maya and getting the children back. If that was even still possible. She wasn’t about to mention that it might be too late.
“Were you able to figure out how many of the people in those files have children who might be at risk?”