Mirror, Mirror

mirror mirror

by

Phaedra Weldon

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Phaedra Weldon on Smashwords

Mirror Mirror

This story in its original form was first appeared in the Daw anthology, ENCHANTMENT PLACE, edited by Denise Little.

This story has been modified from its original form

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Chicago, Present Day

"Siobhan, there's a dead body on the floor of your shop."

She knitted her eyebrows together in concentration. It wasn't the best way to start a Saturday night—especially after just waking from the day.

Siobhan O'Donnell stood behind the counter of her mirror store, a specialty shop situated in Chicago's Enchantment Place center. Specialty because the mirrors didn't work the same way a conventional mirror did—these mirrors used built in cameras to project a vampire's image on a sheet of crystal.

"And it's drained of blood."

She pulled the right side of her mouth into a smirk.

"You got something you want to tell me?"

With a slow nod, she looked up into the exotic face of Captain Oberon Geld, one of Chicago's finest and the former King to the Elven Seleighe Court—as well as her ex-partner and one-time lover.

But not anymore. On both counts.

"Ron," she said, using the nickname he hated most, just because he hated it. "I'm going to have to agree with you. There's a dead body on the floor drained of blood."

The tall elf opened his mouth to speak. Siobhan held up her index finger. "But I didn't do it."

"You do realize how this looks, don't you?"

She arched her eyebrows at him, fixing him with a look that said, "Duh."

Her last job—and life change—had been on the other side of the law. As a detective for the Chicago police, she'd been one of the best at investigating unconventional conventional homicides—crimes involving non-humans. Vampires did make good cops, as did the older, Seleighe Court Elves like Oberon. Both races were formidable, strong, intelligent, and long-lived. Both were attractive and sensuous in their own right, and both races possessed an irresistible sex appeal for mortals.

And they could both kill—violently.

Their differences were less obvious. A vampire held brute strength and the ability to shift to a second form, but an elf could wield magic—if he or she were properly trained. A vampire and an elf were a perfect team.

The two races shared disadvantages as well. Vampires couldn't move around in the daylight, and the elves could. But an elf couldn't touch cold iron without suffering excruciating pain and burned flesh. Cold iron was the elf's sunlight, and vice versa.

Oberon crossed his arms and nodded toward her. He was impeccably dressed as always, in a suit with his tie loosened and his jacket unbuttoned. His white-blond hair was cut short in a modern style, so unlike the long braided locks he once wore as King of the Seleighe.

He didn't look any happier to see her now than the last time they'd met. Nor did she care for the angry glint in his bright amber eyes and their cat-like pupils. His skin was flawless, as was her own. And he was as beautiful now as he was the first time the two of them had touched.

"Siobhan…" he started in that old, familiar patronizing tone. He held up the slip of paper the officers had found on the dead body. "What does this mean?"

"Oberon, how can I tell you when I haven't even been allowed to see it? I told you, I came down here after rising to find a dead woman in the middle of my shop. I called the police right away—and your goons have kept me here for eight hours."

He handed the paper to her and Siobhan opened it. In black marker someone had written YOU ARE IN DANGER. She didn't recognize the handwriting.

"Who is this from? What are you in danger from?"

She gave Oberon a scathing look, hoping to hide her growing alarm at the note's message behind her terse manner. "How the hell am I supposed to know? And besides, is the message for me or for her?" She frowned at the body. "I'd say it was meant for her—albeit a bit late. I've been asleep all day."

"And the district attorney's going to say you got up and fed on some prostitute you found breaking into your shop."

"P'sshhh," Siobhan moved away from Oberon to the body sprawled on her floor. She knew who it was—Melissa Broden, bartender and part-time donor over at Chimeras , the local vamp bar. The victim being a donor was the reason for Oberon's prostitution comment; he'd always hated to see humans selling their blood as boxed lunches.

Siobhan knelt beside Melissa and noticed the marks on her neck. Very round and very visible. There was little blood. She leaned in closer, careful not to touch. She was no longer a cop, nor did she have any gloves on. "Oberon," she said in a firm voice. Several of the officers nearby ceased their conversations. "This wasn't a vampire killing."

He moved closer and knelt down to her right. "Not a vampire?"

"No," she nodded to the wound. "Too perfect. Too round. Vampire teeth were human once—" she looked at him with an arched brow. "No set of vampire bites are the same."

Oberon shook his head. "So how do you explain the blood loss?"

"Blood can be drained from a body in many ways," Siobhan sniffed. "I'd say this one was with magic. It's got that smell. The blood was completely removed from the body." She looked at Oberon. "Which, of course, would kill the human quickly."

"That's ridiculous," he stood. "There's no legal spell to remove blood from a human. That would be delving into dark magic, which is strictly forbidden, same as a vampire drinking from an elf."

"Well, that's just suicide," she stood up beside him. Elven blood was poison to vampires, causing them to burn up from the inside out. An elf could drink a vampire's blood with no other consequence than a trip to the hospital and a bad case of the runs.

She shook her head as she gazed down at the body. "I'd still look into magic. There's no instant punishment for using dark magic, Ron. Nor is there any way to prove the spell caster's identity. Magic is strictly autonomous."

"Siobhan," he sighed. "I'm afraid you're going to have to do better than this. The DA's not going to blame magic. If she did, she'd incite the wrath of witches, mages, magicians, elves and the Goddess knows who or what else living in this world."

"Political suppression?" Siobhan narrowed her eyes. "What's going on, Oberon? Why are you so quick to count me as a suspect? You know I'm right. This wasn't done by a vampire."

When he didn't speak but looked away, she had her answer. "This isn't the first death."

Oberon didn't respond.

She moved to stand in front of him and searched his beautiful face. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Whether you like it or not, Siobhan, you're not a cop. I don't report to you. Not anymore."

"What is wrong with you?"

But she knew that look. Had seen it many times. "You fought with Abyssinian again." The mention of Oberon's UnSeleighe brother caused the vein in his neck to pulse.

The two had never gotten along—though Siobhan found the elven king's brother… amusing . Actually, he was a lot of fun, where Oberon was stiff and unmoving.

"Damned vigilante." He turned a mask of calm toward her. "I made sure he stays out of trouble."

"You did what?" Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Abyssinian in nearly a week. Which wasn't like him—the UnSeleighe always stopped by. A few of her clientele tended to grab coffee at the local Starbucks and hang out, just to catch a glimpse of him. "What did you do to him?"

But Oberon wasn't going to tell her. "Don't worry about Aby. You're hungry. Maybe I can get you something at the station."

"No thanks. You know my stomach can't handle pre-packaged food."

The elf winced. "Siobhan…you have to drink. It seems I'm forever telling you that."

And it was true. Others of her kind had learned to take only what they needed from several people a night. And it suited them. But she'd never been able to do that because each drink gave a taste of her donor's life. And sometimes all the lives got jumbled up in her head if she drank from more than one a night.

Not to mention the drama to her stomach when she woke up the next evening. The banks were a fine substitute, all privately owned and operated for the sole purpose of keeping vampires docile. Each bank received its blood through well-paid donors. Then it was screened (even vampires get diseases) and sent out to distribution banks all over the city.

It was the anticoagulants they put in the blood these days. They made her retch for a week.

A siren blared, and the two of them glanced to their left to see the icebox arrive outside. In a few seconds several white-coated men would appear, give last rites over the body, and then sever the head to keep the victim from returning as a ghoul.

As they moved away from the body, Siobhan filled him in on what she knew about the victim. Female, in her late twenties, had come in to buy one of her mirrors. One of the higher end models with the AV options.

"AV option?"

She sighed. Oberon held no real desire to learn the technology of the present. When they were lovers, he still couldn't turn a computer on. "Audio visual option. They all have cameras in them that project onto the crystal surfaces." She was proud of her mirrors, a project she'd started nearly twenty years ago when she was finally tired of not knowing what she looked like. "Some actually save AMVs."

"Recordings?"

"Uh-huh. Oberon, I didn't kill that child. You all but admitted you know this is true when you noticed I hadn't drank tonight. And given a few days and a forensic examination of the body, I can prove it."

The white-coated men moved in through the front door. Everyone turned to watch, their conversations quieted. "Well, as for a forensic examination, that's not going to happen." Oberon watched the white suits usher non-essential personnel out.

"Well, that's convenient, isn't it?"

Siobhan and Oberon turned to their left.

Abyssinian lounged in the doorway. Dressed in his usual leather pants and jacket, his brilliant red hair in contrast to his pale skin, the UnSeleighe brought a bit of color to the room. Siobhan knew the rings on Aby's fingers cloaked a katana. She noticed a white bandage wrapped around his right wrist.

"How did you—" Oberon started, then glanced at Siobhan. "You stay the hell out of this, Aby."

But his brother only made tsk-tsk noises as he moved to join them. He'd cut his hair recently, ridding himself of his familiar long braid. Where Oberon's eyes were amber, Abyssinian's were indigo. She and Aby had become friends since she left the force. She didn't exactly support vigilantes, per se, but she did think Abyssinian was a just and fair man. "Why don't you tell her about the missing UnSeleighe, Ron ."

"Don't call me that."

But Abyssinian wasn't going to stop. He turned his bright, intense gaze on Siobhan. "Didn't mention the fourteen or so missing UnSeleighe, did he? Vanished. Gone," he snapped his fingers as if he'd just remembered something. "Oh, he's concerned for the dead humans, as well as for the vampires or Seleighe—but not for the UnSeleighe people."

"You're not my concern."

Abyssinian looked down at the body. He glanced at Siobhan. "He thinks you did this?"

"It's what it looks like." Oberon balled his hands into fists.

"Like I said," Abyssinian folded his arms over his chest. "Convenient."

"Nobody asked you." Oberon rounded on his brother again.

"You really think I'm stupid enough to leave my food wrapper in my own business?" It was a crass statement, and her voice had risen some with her frustration. She especially detested the look of tolerance on Oberon's face. His mask of superiority really chapped her ass sometimes.

"No, Siobhan. I don't. But my boss is going to come down on me if I don't make an arrest in twenty-four hours." He glanced back to the store where they were shuttling uniformed policemen out of the shop.

Siobhan could understand their caution. Sometimes the victims of a vampire's bite could go quietly. And sometimes it could get messy. But this wasn't a vampire bite. "I need some time. Come on. Professional courtesy."

"Sio, I can give you twenty-four hours before they're beating down my door for justice. But you'll have to leave the shop. It's a crime scene." He pointed at Abyssinian. "And you stay out of this."

Aby backed up, his hands in the air.

"Twenty-four hours? Oberon, I can't do any amount of investigating in that amount of time. Christ, I can't go out in the sun for nearly thirteen of those hours." She glanced at her watch. "And it's nearly three in the morning now."

"That's what you have me for." Aby smiled.

Oberon moved Siobhan out of the way with a shove as he rounded on his brother. "So help me, Abyssinian Geld, if I hear you've had anything to do with this case, I'll slap cold iron manacles on you and throw you into a dark room."

But Abyssinian only smiled. "Thanks bro. I'll tell Mom and Dad you said hi."

"Hey Captain," the burly officer stepped in close but knew better than to get involved in a family tiff. "The Last Rites team is ready."

Oberon glared at his brother before looking down at Siobhan. "Twenty-four hours, Siobhan. My own detectives will be working as well."

Yeah. Right. She took in a deep breath—dispelling the idea that vampires didn't breathe—turned and left the shop through the back door with Abyssinian right behind her.

<><><>

"Would he really put you in manacles?" Siobhan asked as they walked down the Miracle Mile sidewalk, the store lights illuminating the entire strip before morning came.

"He already did." Abyssinian stopped and pulled up the left sleeve of his jacket, revealing the white bandage. He peeled back the wrapping to reveal a nasty, puckered band of burned flesh around his wrist. "It only takes one manacle of cold iron to pretty much disable an UnSeleighe."

"My God," she touched the damaged flesh. "That's where you've been."

She caught the sideways grin he flashed her. "You miss me?"

Siobhan reached up and thumped the side of his head and turned her attention back to the wound. "I guess that hurt."

"Ever stepped into sunlight?" he asked as he re-wrapped it and pulled his sleeve back down. When she nodded, he nodded. "Then you pretty much know what it feels like. Only you can't get the manacle off."

"Why did he do that?"

"Because he's a sadistic creep who has always hated me. I keep telling you that. I told you that while you were dating him." He turned to walk and gestured for her to follow. "And you finally came to your senses."

"How did you get it off?"

"My brother has a very interesting set of friends. All girls." He beamed. "So I flirted. And nothing melts a woman's heart more than a wounded man in pain, am I right?"

She glared at him, and decided if she ever saw Aby in pain, she'd ignore him.

He glanced back at her again. "You got your gun?"

Siobhan reached behind her, beneath her pea-coat and pulled out her weapon. As a vampire she never felt cold or heat—the coat purely there to hide the gun. "Where are we going?"

"To Sacred Harvest."

"The blood bank?" She reached out and pulled at his coat. He stopped and looked at her. "Aby, what's going on? And don't say you don't know, 'cause you're a terrible liar."

"Melissa Broden bought a mirror from you."

"Yes. You overheard me tell Oberon that."

Abyssinian shook his head. "I already knew that because I asked her to buy it. Melissa was a friend of mine. And now she's dead, and the killer is trying to frame you."

"Wait," she shook her head. "Why did you ask her to buy a mirror?"

"Because I wanted to know what was really happening in Sacred Harvest. I've been watching it for weeks. A lot of vans go in and out of the back alley, and the other night I got a call from a friend, UnSeleighe. Said she met a really nice vampire and was rendezvousing with him over at Chimeras . Well, then she vanished. Nothing. No body. No remains.

"Melissa got a job there and planted the mirror. My guess is that whoever is responsible for her death discovered the mirror—" he held up a finger. "And noticed it wasn't a normal mirror."

Nodding slowly, Siobhan was catching on. "So we need to check out and see if the mirror is still there."

Abyssinian nodded. "The question I can't answer is why would the ones doing this try and frame you?"

Siobhan shrugged. "Maybe they're carrying a grudge? Someone I put behind bars before?"

Abyssinian's expression hardened. "I don't know. And I don't like things I can't puzzle out." He grabbed her hand. "Let's go. We've got about an hour and a half till sunrise."

<><><>

Sacred Harvest was two blocks down from Miracle Mile near Enchantment Place shopping center. The closer they got, the fewer people they came in contact with.

Abyssinian paused at the door. A small sign to the right read "Sacred Harvest Hours" and there were times posted below. "Do you hear anyone inside?"

Siobhan shook her head. There was no other heartbeat. "No."

He opened his right hand, splaying his long fingers wide, and held it over the knob. A soft red glow surrounded the door, and then a familiar click echoed in the alley.

"Neat trick," Siobhan followed him inside.

The place looked like any other doctor's office, with industrial stainless steel sinks, sterile white counter tops, and aged vinyl couches where donors rested and made money while giving their life's blood to sustain the docile life of a vampire. Apparently elves could move easily in the dark as Abyssinian moved with a grace she'd only noticed once or twice with Oberon.

"Why did you break up with him?"

The question was totally unexpected in the dark. Siobhan paused. "What?"

Her companion stopped and looked at her. "Why did you leave him? What—what did he do?"

"Oberon? What did he do?" She gave him a stilted laugh as she held her gun down low. It was easy to laugh now, but two years ago when she and the elven king were partners in not only fighting crime but in the bedroom, she had —for the first time—feared another living creature. "In truth, Aby, I didn't love him. It's hard to love a man—a mortal, vampire or elf—when they're so in love with themselves."

"I like you, Siobhan O'Donnell. You see the truth in most people, and you acknowledge it, no matter how ugly it is. That's rare these days—no matter who or what you are."

He glanced at the front window before leading her into another room. This one was much smaller and filled with shelves of cabinets. The elf had his right hand out, and a small ball of light formed. It grew to the size of a baseball before he tossed it into the air. Sparkling light filled the room's tall ceiling and cast a glow over the two of them. "That'll give us light to see, but it won't alert any sensors."

But Siobhan caught the smell of something else. Something…

Citric.

She had smelled it before—an hour or so earlier. And now she recognized it.

Elven blood.

She put a hand on his shoulder.

He paused. "What's wrong?"

"I smell blood. A lot of it."

"This is a blood bank."

"Well, duh. No, I smell elven blood." She spied a door on the opposite side of the room. Without a glance at her partner, Siobhan moved to the door. It was locked. Two powerful jerks and the mechanism broke under her strength.

The lemony smell of the blood assaulted her when she opened the door. The ball of light started to follow them inside but hesitated and moved away. She could still see with her preternatural sight. In the center of the room lay an examination table, complete with restraining straps. It was smeared with blood. Buckets of it sat in the far corner. Thick, coagulated, black dead blood. Elven blood died quickly once it left the body and became a thick, unpalatable porridge.

"What the hell is this?" Siobhan took a step inside. "Is this someone draining elves? What the hell for?"

"Siobhan," Abyssinian said behind her. She turned to see him kneeling down over a pile of broken glass. He looked up at her. "I think we need to get out of here. Whoever it is found the mirror, and they probably took the recording."

"No," she moved to stand beside him. "The AV transmits packets directly to my FTP. But they're encrypted with a code set by the sender. That way the information is safe."

"Does Oberon know that?"

Siobhan threw him a hard stare. "What has Oberon got to do with this?"

"Nothing. Do you have a way of accessing the packet?"

"Yeah, from the computer in my shop. But I'd need to know what Melissa's code might be."

Abyssinian swallowed. "Try the note—the one Oberon found on the body."

She stared at him. "The danger note?"

"It was for me." Abyssinian said. "Melissa called me a week ago. She was sure she was being followed. And she was certain the people doing this knew I was watching them—"

"Why are you in danger?"

"Because I already know what that recording is going to show, Siobhan. Like I said—I've been looking into this for a while. And let's just say I've pissed off the wrong people. I probably shouldn't have shown up at Mirror, Mirror, but I needed to draw my suspect out. Right now we need to get to your shop and get that packet to a safer place before the murderer does. He's not going to want this kind of evidence out."

Abyssinian turned abruptly as he stood, his eyes narrowing, his sword suddenly in his hand.

Siobhan listened as well, "Someone's coming."

"We tripped an alarm," he moved back out of the secret room. "And I'd say there are a lots of someones."

She followed him out, and the two of them made their way to the back door. Only now three humans blocked it. Two brandished swords, the other one a large book.

"Magicians," Abyssinian hissed, indicating the man with the book, and held his sword at the ready in front of him. He leaned back toward her. "That gun's going to be useless. Can you shift?"

"With pleasure."

In an instant Siobhan slipped into her wolven form, a beast with gray fur and bright silver eyes. Her clothing fell away in pieces as she snarled at the men. They attacked—one sword after Abyssinian, the other after her. It was easy to dodge the sharpened blade in such a small space and as the attacker tried to recover, she twisted around and sank her teeth into his left thigh. He screamed as he fell and tried to twist around to hack at the wolf with his sword.

Another lunge back and Siobhan was able to duck beneath the sword again and sink her fangs into the man's soft side. He lurched and was still.

The clang of swords told her Abyssinian was also engaged in a fight. The air buzzed around her as she felt the tingle of a spell and realized the magician was bringing the dead swordsman back to life beside her.

She moved away from the soon-to-be zombie and charged at the magician, but something kicked her back, slamming her into the wall. Dazed, she reverted back to her human form and sat blinking. Abyssinian parried several moves by his attacker and thrust up, then down, before bringing the sword up in a stroke that cut through the man from his left thigh to his right shoulder.

The new zombie charged the elf, but Aby twisted and cleanly sliced off the monster's head.

The magician began to ,chant again, and the two attackers came back to life again, completely whole.

"That is not sanctioned magic," Siobhan mumbled as Abyssinian bent down to help her. He removed his jacket and handed it to her. It barely covered her enough to avoid public decency laws. She saw he was bleeding along his neck where the attacker's sword had struck. It wasn't fatal, but it could cost him strength if he lost too much blood.

"Are you surprised?" he muttered as he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the opposite direction.

But there were two more swordsmen and another magician at the front and another set in the filing room. With a curse, Siobhan took off toward the only unguarded room.

It was a back office, with an uncovered window facing the eastern sky. The dark was nearly gone, the dawn's colors quickly pushing aside the night's shade. There was no sign of a door or anything else save a single desk and chair. No closet.

"We're trapped."

Siobhan shook her head. "I am, you aren't." She nodded to the window. "In a few minutes I'm going to be a little less than toast. You can break that window and get away."

But Abyssinian was locking the door. "I'm not leaving you."

"Why not?"

"Because you have to know a secret. You have to know what it is these people are trying to do." He went to the window and braced himself against the pane. "If the murderer finds the files, if he destroys them, he'll come after you. You're vulnerable during the day, and he's a powerful mage in his own right. " He looked out the window. "There aren't any attackers out there."

"Because they know I won't make it past sunrise."

"But I will." He lowered his sword and leaned against the window. He looked pale in the rising sunlight. "Unless they know I was wounded."

She saw the second hit—a wound in his lower left side. "Abyssinian…" she moved to him, careful not to get her hands in the direct light from the window. He moved closer to her, staggering just a bit. She could only assume the adrenaline that had been pushing him was wearing off, and now his body was reacting to the damage.

The cut on his shoulder was deep, and it looked as if it had nicked the collarbone. Her hand sought out the wound in his side and she gasped when she realized how deep the attacker's sword had cut. He was going to need serious elven medical attention and quickly—and he was going to need to rest. "You're right—once I'm ash, you'll be at their mercy."

"I'm sorry," he said and pressed his back against the far wall. The sword fell to the ground with a clash as he lowered himself down against the wall. "I'm not strong enough. I was manacled…for too long."

"Abyssinian…" she touched his face. His indigo eyes focused on her. "I’m sorry I'm not much help either. Vampires are always painted as invincible and powerful. I wasn't those things even when I was a detective."

He leaned his head back against the wall. The light from the sun—now beginning to stream into the room on their right—illuminated his features. Oberon was beautiful—she would admit that. But it was stagnant beauty, with no character or emotion.

But not his brother. Abyssinian's features were much harsher. Rougher, and yet, kinder. Abyssinian wasn't just beautiful, he was exquisite. He touched her face with his hand. "Do you trust me?"

"Trust you?" She shrugged. "Yes, I trust you."

"Then kiss me."

She blinked at him, aware of the heat radiating from the quickly encroaching sun. “ What? “

"Kiss me, Siobhan." He smiled. "Please."

She wanted to kiss him. Had wanted to since she first met him, years ago, a victim of a drug bust gone bad. He'd come from the shadows and cut down her attackers. She'd seen his hair like flame, his eyes the color of amethyst, and he'd introduced himself as the King's nuisance.

Even now as he lost blood, she wanted to kiss him. And before she died…it would be nice to hold him. To be held.

Just once.

But as she came closer to him, she felt his right hand caress the back of her head, and then as she neared his face, he forced her head down, shoving her open mouth onto the wound at his neck and shoulder. "Drink!"

No! She struggled against him, pushing herself away. But he was strong—stronger than he appeared and she felt her stomach growl as her lips and tongue tasted his life's precious nectar.

I can't drink! An elf's blood is poison! He's trying to kill me like this—to save me from a burning death! No!

The thick liquid filled her mouth, and she drank deeply, filling her belly even as the first morning's rays touched her bare hands, and then her arms, warming them. She drank…and drank…

"I loved…you…"

Too late she realized what she was doing—

Abyssinian!

She wrenched her thirst away from his neck. He was bone white, his eyes closed, dark circles beneath them. Siobhan pressed her fingers to his neck. There was no pulse. She yelled out to him, shook him, but his head lolled to one side, his life…gone…

Backing away, she left him on the floor and stood in the full sunlight.

And froze.

Slapping her hands to her face, she waited for the burning to begin as she stood in the light. Instead, it was warm against her skin. Tingling. Siobhan closed her eyes.

Laughter welled from deep inside her chest as she spread her arms wide and drank in a different power. The sun.

Abyssinian…he'd known. He'd known this would happen! How was this possible? Everyone knew that an elf's blood was poison…but was that a lie? Was this the thing that would happen if a vampire drank from an elf?

What a dark and dangerous secret.

Aby had given her a gift—but how long would it last? She had to use it well. She had to discover Melissa and Abyssinian's killer.

And she could do it in the daylight.

<><><>

Walking the Mile in the daylight was different from the night. Darkness hid so many ugly things. Trash, cracks in the pavement, even the ugliness of neon signs with no light.

But to Siobhan, it was all so incredibly beautiful. She stopped in each of the shops along the way, admiring the colors, some faded and washed out, some vibrant in the sun. Early morning risers noticed the half-dressed brunette with the bloodied katana and moved quickly away, or avoided her direction all together.

It was close to eight before she reached her own shop. A yellow and black line of tape blocked the entrance, but she didn't detect anyone inside. Snatching the tape away, she opened the front door with a swift kick.

The body was long gone, as was any remnant of what happened the day before. It wasn't until she ascended her stairs that she saw the destruction wrought on her place. She had been invaded; her possessions tossed aside as the killer looked for what Melissa had stolen.

But they hadn't found the secret room, hidden behind the mirror in her bedroom—though the mirror now lay in a thousand pieces. She tried to sieve through the wall but bumped into it instead. Had she lost her powers? She tried to shift into a wolf.

Nothing happened.

Siobhan ran to the bathroom and looked into the AV mirror.

She looked different. Her skin tanned, her eyes no longer held the sheen of death. How long will this last? Is it permanent? And even if it is—I would give it all back to have Abyssinian with me.

Picking up one of the statues scattered about the floor, she smashed into the thin wall and tore a hole so she could get to her computer. Once through, she logged in and downloaded the packet from Melissa.

She typed in YOU ARE IN DANGER and sat back and watched as three Seleighe—known by their light colored hair—held an UnSeleighe—dark haired and darker skinned—to the table she'd seen in the room and strapped her down. Then a tall, familiar elf entered and began to chant a ritual as the others shoved needles into the restrained elf's arms and neck and drained away her blood.

She'd been wrong. They hadn't used magic.

"It's old magic," came a familiar voice behind her.

She'd been expecting him. The instant she saw his face on the recording. Siobhan stopped the playback and with two clicks sent the packet to a safer place.

She stood and turned inside the small room and stepped through.

Oberon sat on her bed, his hands folded in his lap. His eyes widened when she stood in the streaming sunlight and he moved quickly to his feet. "I see…my brother finally unraveled it."

"Were you trying to create day walking vampires, Oberon?" She was trying to understand everything now.

"I was attempting to create an elixir to allow them to walk in the daylight." He stood and took a step closer to her. "Sell it to the highest bidder. Something even The Prince couldn't resist. Think of the money to be made, Siobhan. No more working as a Chicago cop. No more skimping by—not if I had that kind of power in my hands."

Yep. A demoted king through and through. Can't just live like the rest of us. "Abyssinian figured out what you were doing."

"And he also discovered how to make it work." Oberon swallowed. "Pity. I tried to take that information from him."

"You tortured him. I saw the mark on his wrist."

"Stubborn fool. He'd rather die than help me. His brother." He snarled as he put a hand to his chest. "The king!"

Siobhan couldn't stop the smirk that crossed her face.

He moved even closer. "Tell me what he did. How did he do this?" He reached out and put a hand on Siobhan's long dark hair. "Was it a spell? Did he use an herb? Some amulet?"

She paused as she watched him, saw the greed in his eyes. The self-absorbed man she'd believed she'd loved once. Should she tell him the truth? That it was the elven blood itself? Could she take Oberon here? Now? Drain him to the point of death…and leave him to die? Perhaps put iron manacles on him?

Something told her…no. Stop. He is death .

Maybe it was something in her eyes, but Oberon took a step back. For the first time she saw fear in his eyes. "Where is Abyssinian?"

She watched him. And smiled, allowing her fangs to slide down below her lip. "He gave me his life—so that I could defeat you."

She turned and took up Abyssinian's katana where she'd left it by the bathroom door.

"You…you drank Aby's blood? Is that it? Is that the secret? Elven blood is poison—was it just his blood? We might not have to kill another UnSeleighe again. We can use your blood to make the serum…whatever he did I can reverse engineer it."

"That's where you're wrong," she said as she held the sword high. Oberon started to stand, but he stumbled against a piece of wood and fell to the ground. Just one swing…one thrust through his cold black heart and Aby's torturer would die.

"Stop!"

Siobhan froze and turned to see a very pale and shaking Abyssinian standing in the doorway to her bedroom. She stepped back, nearly dropping the katana. "You—you're alive!"

Abyssinian held out a shaking, pale hand. "Killing him—isn't the answer. He has to pay…for what he'd done. He should be punished."

"Punished? Me? Never!" Oberon muttered as he started up from where he'd fallen.

Siobhan turned in slow motion to see Oberon pull his gun from inside his suit jacket. He brought it up and aimed it at Abyssinian.

But she reacted with vampiric reflexes, brought the katana up and cleanly cut him off at the knees.

Literally…cut off his knees.

Oberon screamed and dropped the gun as his body collapsed like a falling tower. Abyssinian collapsed near the door and Siobhan grabbed the gun as she backed up to where Aby was. She checked his pulse. Steady but faint. Why hadn't he had one before?

She gazed down at Aby, and moved strands of his bright hair from his face. "I love you too, Abyssinian Geld," she said softly.

Confident Oberon was no longer a threat, she called 911 to report a burglary in her home.

<><><>

"You know," Siobhan said as she and Abyssinian walked along the Miracle Mile. "I kind of miss the daylight."

"Yeah," he said. "Too bad it didn't last."

"You died."

"Oh, just for an instant. Then I woke up with the worst damned headache." He put his hands behind his back. "It takes a lot more than two wounds to kill an elf. Though I probably should have told you that our bodies shut down like that."

"Yeah, you could have spared me some untold grief, Aby."

He turned his head to the side and looked at her. "You love me."

"I didn't say that."

He grinned. "But you at least like me."

She pursed her lips but said nothing. She knew in her heart she loved him. But this incident also showed her how vulnerable her affection for him could make her. Logically she should stay away from him—but now that she knew she could walk in the day with a taste of his blood— "Can all elves—can any vampire drink from an elf and day walk?" She'd held off asking that question because the thought of what would happen to the elves if vampires suddenly knew the pointy-ear's blood wasn't poison—but life giving.

No elf would be safe from them.

Abyssinian narrowed his indigo eyes, still watching her. "No. If you'd have drank from Oberon—you would have died."

"What makes your blood different?"

He looked straight ahead as the breeze from Lake Michigan ruffled the red hair on his forehead. "Have you ever wondered why my brother is Seleighe and I am UnSeleighe? Have you ever wondered what the difference was? Other than our appearance?"

Siobhan was aware of the looks the elf gathered from passers by. Women and men both watched him, many with lust in their eyes. He was beautiful…and that hair. "You're the only red-headed elf I've ever met."

He nodded. "Legend says the Seleighe are the elves of light, and the UnSeleighe? Well, we're considered the bad guys. In truth, the UnSeleighe aren't considered pure." He stopped walking. Siobhan stopped and moved to stand face to face with him, looking up into his indigo eyes. "Siobhan, my father was human. Oberon and I share the same mother. She took a pet—a changeling you call them—and she fell in love with him."

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. It made sense now. The darker skin, the darker hues of hair, and their eyes—she just noticed that Abyssinian's eyes didn’t have the slitted pupils like Oberon did. The UnSeleighe, though elven, also possessed more human traits than the Seleighe. "The UnSeleighe, the Dark Court, was created by gathering all the half-breeds."

"Yes," he looked down at her. "They call us the Winterborne. And because my mother is the Queen, I am their leader." Abyssinian reached out, moved a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "We discovered what could happen if a vampire drank our blood—by accident. I made the decision to feed the rumor of our blood being the same as the Seleighe. Death. Poison. But some how a twisted version of the truth made it to Oberon's ears after the High Court corrupted."

The twinkle in Aby's eyes made her think that twist in the truth was one of his own doing. "Oberon wanted to create this elixir and you noticed your people disappearing."

"Yeah. I did. So I watched and waited. And I noticed Sacred Harvest, and that Oberon had invested into its creation—with dummy companies. But I'm pretty good at business." He grinned and tapped the side of his head. "I'm not just a pretty face…"

Siobhan couldn't help but smile as she reached out and lightly punched his stomach, careful to avoid the bandaged side where the enemy's blade had sliced. The wound at his neck was also healing, the bandage just visible at his shirt collar. "You asked Melissa to help. And that's when Oberon held you?"

"Yes. She found out that he suspected me. She was going to warn me. But," his smile faded. "I was caught and questioned. And she was killed." He refocused on her. "I regret her death, Sio. Others deaths. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him earlier, but with you—" he shrugged. "You're better off when you find out the truth on your own."

"Even about your blood?"

"Would you have believed me if I'd have told you?"

True. She turned and started their walk again. He closed the distance with his long legs. With a sigh she looped her arm in his and he squeezed it close to his side. "So all UnSeleighe have this ability? I could drink from any of them and day walk?"

"No."

She tilted her head up. "No? What does that mean. You just said—"

But he stopped and turned. Faster than she could react, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her against him. "Sio—you don't understand what Oberon's done. There are so few UnSeleighe left. He didn't just kill a few. He killed over a hundred of us. Before this—we barely numbered twenty more than that. He killed them because he was jealous. Of me."

She became aware of his heart beating strong against her. Of the blood…the nectar rushing through his veins. His scent…his glorious lemony scent. "Because he lost his kingdom. His people no longer followed in him. But you…are still a King."

"You know him so well," Abyssinian smiled. "I'm one of a handful of elves who know about this. The vampires and the humans don't need to know. No one does, or they'll be breeding half-breeds to produce the blood for vampires. The balance between our kinds must stay in check. We have magic, you shape shift. We walk in the sun, you revel in the night. We are felled by cold iron, you are weakest with sunlight."

She looked into his eyes and saw passion there. Passion to save his people, and passion to do what was right. She understood what he was asking—that she only share with him. That this is their secret. "Oberon knows I walked in the day."

"Oberon is no longer a problem," Abyssinian said.

But Siobhan wasn't ready to dismiss her old lover. Not that quickly. But for now, he was incarcerated on ten counts of murder. Breaking and entering. And kidnapping—Aby would always wear the scar on his wrist from the cold iron.

She heard his stomach growl and laughed, alleviating the seriousness of their conversation. "Pizza?"

He nodded quickly and released her, but Siobhan kept her arm looped in his. And for now, they both seemed to be content with that.

"You keeping the store open?"

"Uh-hm. You going to keep fighting the evildoers? Even if they turn out to be family?"

Aby gave her a wide smile. "Always. Oh, I heard from my bro's lawyer. They're using an insanity plea. I mean," he held out his hands to his sides, his red hair flashing in the city lights. "Who ever heard of a walking in the daylight by drinking an elf's blood? Sheesh." He shook his head.

She laughed at him. "It is crazy. But," she paused and he paused with her. "I just keep thinking you're not telling me the truth. Not all of it. There's something more—about the blood."

Abyssinian lowered his shoulders. "It amazes me how well you know me, Sio." He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. She opened her mouth to say something, but he pressed a finger to her lips. "Never drink from another UnSeleighe, Siobhan. Only from me."

A scream from a nearby alley stopped the two of them. Within seconds Siobhan had her gun drawn, and Abyssinian's katana was in his hand. They glanced at each other and grinned.

"Shall we dance?" Abyssinian said.

"After you," she answered and the two of them took off into the alley.

About the Author…

Phaedra Weldon is the author of the Urban Fantasy series, Zoë Martinique Investigation, published by Berkley, available for Kindle. She is also the author of many stories written for Daw Anthologies, such as Enchantment Place and Wizards Inc. She most recently completed the soon-to-be released Eureka novel, Brain Box Blues. Look for it in stores Winter 2010 under the name Cris Ramsay.

This work and everything in it is the sole property of Phaedra M. Weldon. Any copying or reprinting will be prosecuted to the furthest extent of the law. This is a revised edition.

For more information about the author please her visit her website at www.phaedraweldon.com

If you liked this story, and would enjoy reading more about Siobhan and Abyssinian, drop the author a note at ZAM007@comcast.net

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