Storm Born. Richelle Mead
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Storm Born - Richelle Mead страница 5
![Storm Born - Richelle Mead Storm Born - Richelle Mead Dark Swan](/cover_pre719554.jpg)
“It’s not that I don’t believe what you’re describing, but there are a lot more mundane explanations. A girl alone in the woods could have been abducted by any number of things—or people.”
“They said you were the best,” he told me, like it was some kind of argument. “They said you kick paranormal ass all the time. You’re the real deal.”
“What I can or can’t do isn’t relevant. I need to make sure we’re on the right track. You’re asking me to cross physically into the Otherworld. I almost never do that. It’s dangerous.”
Wil sat back down, face desperate. “Look, I’ll do anything at all. I can’t let her stay there with those—with those things. Name your price. I can pay anything you want.”
I glanced around curiously, taking in the books on UFOs and Bigfoot. “Uh…what exactly do you do for a living?”
“I run a blog.”
I waited for more, but apparently that was it. Somehow I suspected that generated less money than even Tim made. Hmphf. Bloggers. I didn’t get why everyone and their brother thought the world wanted to read their thoughts on…well, nothing. If I wanted to be subjected to meaningless blather, I’d watch reality television.
He was still looking at me pleadingly, with big blue puppy dog eyes. I nearly groaned. When had I grown so soft? Didn’t I want people to think of me as some cold and calculating shamanic mercenary? I’d vanquished a keres yesterday. Why was this sob story getting to me?
It was actually because of the keres, I realized. That stupid sexual suggestion had been so revolting to me that I just couldn’t erase the image of little Jasmine Delaney being some gentry’s plaything. Because that’s what she would be, though I’d never tell Wil that. The gentry liked human women. A lot.
“Can you take me to the park she disappeared from?” I asked at last. “I’ll get a better sense if fairies really were involved.”
Of course, it actually turned out that I took him because I quickly decided I wasn’t going to let him drive me anywhere. Having him as a passenger taxed me enough. He spent the first half of the ride slathering some really thick sunscreen all over him. I guess you had to take precautions when you lived in a cave and finally emerged into the light.
“Skin cancer’s on the rise,” he explained. “Especially with the depletion of the ozone layer. Tanning salons are killing people. No one should go outside without some kind of protection—especially here.”
That I actually agreed with. “Yeah. I wear sunscreen too.”
He eyed my light tan askance. “Are you sure?”
“Well, hey, it’s Arizona. Hard not to get some sun. I mean, sometimes I walk to the mailbox without sunscreen, but most of the time I try to put it on.”
“‘Try,’” he scoffed. “Does it protect against UVB rays?”
“Um, I don’t know. I mean, I guess. I never burn. It smells pretty good too.”
“Not good enough. Most sunscreens will protect from UVA rays only. But even if you don’t burn, the UVB rays will still get through. Those are the real killers. Without adequate protection, you can probably expect an early death from melanoma or some other form of skin cancer.”
“Oh.” I hoped we got to the park soon.
When we’d almost reached it, a traffic light stopped us under an overpass. I didn’t think anything of it, but Wil shifted nervously.
“I always hate being stopped under these. You never know what could happen in an earthquake.”
I again schooled myself to neutrality. “Well…it’s been awhile since our last earthquake around here.” Yeah. Like, never.
“You just never know,” he warned ominously.
Our arrival couldn’t have come a moment too soon. The park was green and woodsy, someone’s idiotic attempt to defy the laws of southern Arizona’s climate. It probably cost the city a fortune in water. He led me along the trail that went to Jasmine’s abduction spot. As we approached it, I saw something that suddenly made me put more credence in his story. The trail intersected another one at a perfect cross. A crossroads, often a gate to the Otherworld. No circle of flowers grew here now, but as I approached that junction, I could feel a slight thinness between this world and the other one.
“Who knew?” I murmured, mentally testing the walls. It wasn’t a very strong spot, truthfully. I doubted much could pass here from either world right now. But on a sabbat like Samhain…well, this place could very well be an open doorway. I’d have to let Roland know so we could check it when the next sabbat rolled around.
“Well?” Wil asked.
“This is a hot spot,” I admitted, trying to figure out how to proceed. It appeared I was zero for two in gauging the credibility of these last two clients, but when 90 percent of my queries were false leads, I tended to keep a healthy dose of skepticism on hand.
“Will you help me then?”
“Like I said, this really isn’t my thing. And even if we decide she was taken to the Otherworld, I have no idea where to look for her. It’s as big as ours.”
“She’s being held by a king named Aeson.”
I spun around from where I’d been staring at the crossroads. “How the hell do you know that?”
“A sprite told me.”
“A sprite.”
“Yeah. He used to work for this guy Aeson. He ran away and wanted revenge. So he sold the information to me.”
“Sold it?”
“He needed money to put down a deposit on an apartment in Scottsdale.”
It sounded ludicrous, but it wasn’t the first time I’d heard of Otherworldly creatures trying to set up shop in the human world. Or of crazy people who wanted to live in Scottsdale.
“When did this happen?”
“Oh, a few days ago.” He made it sound like a visit from the UPS guy.
“So. You were seriously approached by a sprite and only now thought to mention it?”
Wil shrugged. Some of the sunscreen he’d missed rubbing in showed on his chin. It kind of reminded me of kindergarten paste. “Well, I’d already known she was taken by fairies. This just sort of confirmed it. He was actually the one who mentioned you. Said you killed one of his cousins. Then I found some locals that backed up the story.”
I studied Wil. If he hadn’t seemed so hapless, I almost wouldn’t have believed any of this. But it smacked too much of truth for him to be making it up. “What did he call me?”
“Huh?”
“When he told you about me. What name did he give you?”