“Triple-shot mocha?” Herne asked as I entered the kitchen. While I showered and dressed, he had grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and was now pulling shots of espresso.
“Quint shot, please. I need more caffeine than that to make it through the day. All-nighters aren’t that easy, even for the Fae. We don’t all have the constitution of a god.” I stuck out my tongue at him.
He playfully returned the gesture. “Fine. Five shots. Seriously, though, if you need a nap, you can come in late.” He didn’t even look winded.
“No, that wouldn’t be fair to the others. I’ll manage, though I may grab a few winks this afternoon, if we’re not run ragged.” I paused, sniffing. I could still smell his musky scent from where I was standing. “Um, not to be indelicate, but don’t you need a shower before we go? I love your scent, but…”
“But I’m a little funky for the office?”
“I was going to use the word ‘rank’ but yeah, that works,” I said, grinning.
He laughed and handed me my drink. “You eat and I’ll have a quick rinse.” He headed for the bedroom.
I slid onto a tall stool at the kitchen island, taking a long sip of the iced mocha before devouring my breakfast. I was still hungry when I finished, so I poked through the cupboards and found a box of doughnuts. Herne kept plenty of snacks around for me. The gods didn’t need to eat nearly as much as the Fae or even humans, but he liked food and made sure his fridge was well stocked. I had finished my second one and was on my third when he re-entered the room, clean-shaven, tidy, and smelling like fresh rain.
“Yum, the new bath wash you bought does the trick.” I polished off the rest of the doughnut. “I left your sandwich alone.”
“How generous,” he said, catching me by the waist and pulling me in for a long kiss. He swatted my ass. “All right, love, let’s get this show on the road.”
As we gathered our things and headed out to the car, I paused, staring at the sky. It was a clear morning and the sun was shining, but there seemed to be a pall over the city. With a sinking feeling, I realized it wasn’t smog. It was an energetic cloud, hanging low and ponderous. I could sense when a storm was about to break, and right now, I could sense a dark one on the horizon. Suddenly pensive, I kept my thoughts to myself as we headed downtown.
Chapter Two
Downtown Seattle was bustling. The Seattle area only got about sixty-five cloud-free days a year, and full sunshine was so rare that almost everybody was out and about, taking advantage of the good weather. The streets were packed with early shoppers and people on their way to work. Most of the big corporations, especially the high-tech industry, allowed flextime, so the early morning crowd was sizable.
Seattle was a vibrant city, and its nickname—the Emerald City—was well deserved. The tree-lined streets were wide and spacious, although riddled with potholes. The city grew upward rather than out, due to the limited confines of the shoreline, so skyscrapers dominated the skyline, and a dizzying array of sleek new office buildings interwove with the old red brick walkups and the concrete behemoths.
Down on the docks, the ferries chugged in from across Puget Sound, ferrying in commuters. Only a block or so away from the harbor, the Viaduct Market—once known as Pike Place Market—held sway over the downtown area. Like an enclosed bazaar, hundreds of vendors set up their daily markets selling everything from flowers to food to clothing to services.
The Wild Hunt was in Old Town, which had originally been known as the Pioneer Square area. The five-story brick walkup was on First Avenue, a wide, tree-lined street that was home to a number of the streeps, the ever-present street people who chose, either unwillingly or willingly, to make the city itself their home. They slept in homeless shelters or crashed at the flophouses or hunkered down in the back alleys, and during the day they panhandled, offering music or dancing or other talents for their money. We knew a number of the locals by name, and they were mostly good sorts, though a few were lost in a fog, and even fewer were dangerous.
Across the street from the five-story walkup that housed the agency was an array of fetish brothels, all legal, offering all sorts of kink for a price. They were kept busy, but we never had any trouble from the sex workers or their clients. Tattoo shops, delis, and small restaurants were interspersed among the sex-for-hire shops, and a pot shop had recently joined the lineup. MJ’s House brought in a lot of business for everybody, given the combinations of pot and sex, and pot and food, were irresistible.
We jogged up the concrete stairs leading to the main floor of the building. Recently the owner of the building had, by order of the city, began installing a handicapped access ramp to the side. When done, it would curve around to the left like a backward “C,” starting right of the stairs. The landlord had also agreed to do more than a jury-rig fix on the elevator, which was constantly breaking down.
The first floor of the building housed an urgent care clinic focused on treating the SubCult, though humans were welcome to come in if they needed help. The second floor was home to a daycare and preschool for low-income mothers, the third floor belonged to a yoga and dance studio, and we had the fourth floor. The fifth floor had long remained empty, but someone had finally rented it out and now we had an alternative-care clinic overhead. With a chiropractor, three massage therapists, two acupuncturists, and a nutritionist, the Stone & Needle had brought in a steady stream of clients in the month since it had opened in mid-March.
Herne and I took the elevator to the fourth floor. The car opened right into our waiting room. At night we locked it to prevent anyone from accessing our floor. Only the janitor and building owner had keys to it besides us.
Angel looked up as we entered the building. She was frowning, and before we could even say good morning, she motioned for us to stop at her desk. “The deputy mayor booked an appointment this morning. She’ll be here at ten and she wants the entire agency at the meeting. I told her Charlie couldn’t be there, but he’s going to Skype in to hear what she has to say.”
Herne frowned. “Any time Maria asks to see us, it usually means trouble.”
“She sounded tense. I could tell something’s seriously wrong and it’s going to get dumped in our laps.” Angel was extremely good at reading people, just by their voice. She had never really utilized her empathic nature before, but now she was working on expanding her abilities, and she had made some remarkable strides, especially during the past month.
“All right. You say she’ll be here at ten?” Herne asked.
Angel nodded. “That’s what she said. I ordered some pastries and sparkling water.”
“I’ll be in my office, getting ready.” He gave me a quick kiss before disappearing into his office.
I sat down in the chair opposite Angel’s side of the desk. “I’m so tired. We didn’t get home till almost dawn.”
“Did you find anything?”
I shook my head. “Not exactly, but the water elementals in the park say that the spirits are waking up—spirits that should be long gone.”
“Not good. But we’re probably going to be in for this a lot. I assume we’re going to hand the cases off to Raven?”