Chapter 23

Ch. 23: Dane

"That was fast," Halloran says, glancing between me, Julian, and Coleridge. "I didn't realize you'd called them already."

"I didn't. Walker issued a press release."

Coleridge hands him her phone with the news article on the screen. His eyebrows climb his forehead as he scans it, and Vasquez swears as she reads over his shoulder.

"Can he do that?" she asks.

"Can or can't, he did. Now time is at a premium. He'll want the scene cleared and the body removed before the circus arrives. That's probably what he's on about over there."

She nods back toward the parking area, where Walker stands in front of a large, shiny fire engine addressing the mishmash of personnel. He's either giving a detailed briefing or an impassioned speech, judging from all the wild gesturing.

"You're going to, er... 'read' the scene, then, are you?" Halloran asks, turning his attention to Julian.

Julian frowns at the black plastic screen and the two deputies guarding it. "I'd like to try."

"Good luck," Vasquez snorts. "Those bozos won't let us within six feet of the body."

Halloran looks towards the parking area and frowns. "If it would help, perhaps I might cause a small distraction."

"A distraction?" Coleridge eyes him doubtfully.

He nods. "If you think it's worthwhile, then it's worth a bit of risk to give Julian the chance."

Coleridge rests her hands on her hips and stares out over the calm waters of the lake. The day is warming up already, little flies buzz around our heads, and the slightly fishy scent of lake water flavors the cool air.

After thinking for a moment, Coleridge nods. "What did you have in mind? No, wait—don't tell me. I think I'd rather not know."

Halloran winks. "Just leave it to me."

He saunters away along the shore toward the parking area and joins the crowd listening to Walker. As I watch, a fly lands on my face. I brush it off, and in that blink of an eye, Halloran is gone.

Julian's whispered curse tells me I'm not the only one who lost track of him.

"Where the fuck did he go?" Vasquez murmurs.

I scan the crowd, and after about half a minute, I spot him easily, as if he'd never moved. "There he is," I murmur. "Next to the guy in the blue cap."

Julian and I share a glance, and I make a mental note of the fact Halloran shares Julian's ability to go 'unseen.'

"What's he up to?" Coleridge asks as Halloran raises his hand to ask a question. Walker's annoyance at the interruption is clear even from this distance, but he appears to listen and address Halloran's concern.

While he speaks, a strange sensation creeps across my scalp as, behind the Sheriff, the huge fire truck begins to move.

There's no one at the wheel.

A ripple of alarm passes through the crowd as those closer to the behemoth vehicle detect its shift from stationary to a moving object, and Coleridge swears under her breath, hands pressed to either side of her head.

Seconds later, chaos erupts, and the crowd scatters as some leap to safety and some dash towards the truck, leaping onto its sides and trying to reach the cabin to regain control. The huge engine quickly picks up speed, aided by gravity and the slope of the boat ramp, and no one is quick enough to apply the parking brake in time.

With a great SPLOOSH, the engine hits the water, the impact throwing off some of those clinging to its sides. Fortunately, the water slows its progress, and someone manages to get behind the wheel and stop it before the water reaches the front windshield. Unfortunately, the ignition splutters, vehicle fails to start, and a great deal of shouting ensues.

Meanwhile, the two deputies 'guarding' the body have run to help—or at least to join those getting in the way—leaving the body unattended.

Coleridge swears fluently even as she takes action.

"Vasquez, you're with me," she says. "Julian, do your thing. That son of a bitch is clearly insane, and I'll be happy to see him board a plane back to Ireland, but in the meantime let's not waste the chance he's given us."

She strides off towards the chaos with Vasquez in tow; and with all attention elsewhere, Julian and I turn ours to what lies behind the screen.

"Hang on." I hold him back as I take the first look. Thankfully, the body is covered by a sheet of the same black plastic that forms the screen: sturdy and thick, it conceals the shape of what lies beneath. I signal the all-clear, and Julian joins me.

Part of me wishes for some excuse to delay, to shield him from the unpleasant experience that lies in store, but the determined set of his mouth tells me my concern would not be well-received. I can't help checking in one last time, anyway.

"You sure you're ready for this? Don't you need to, uh, 'ground yourself,' first?"

"I did that on the way here," he murmurs, attention fixed on the indistinct shape at our feet. "I'll be fine."

He kneels carefully on the piled fragments of broken slate that form the shore and takes a deep breath before lifting one edge of the sheet, pulling it back just enough to expose an arm and a pale, motionless hand. The nails are painted a bright, cherry red, though the enamel is chipped and the ends appear jagged and torn.

Julian covers his mouth and rocks back on his heels, and then the smell hits me, too.

From experience, I know it's not nearly as bad as it could be, but even a whiff of decay is unpleasant. I've seen the toughest stomachs turned by less.

Julian, though, merely takes a moment to regain his composure before returning to his task.

Gingerly, he reaches for the hand and shudders as his slim fingers close around the wrist, chilled by the touch of dead flesh.

He takes a deep breath and goes still, his head bowed and his shoulders hunched as he prepares to receive whatever impressions Stephanie's last moments have left behind.

When it happens, it's not subtle; it scared the shit out of me the first time I saw it. He gasps and goes rigid, back arched, face blank, and wide eyes reflecting a violet sky.

His breath grows shallow and rapid, the quick little pants of an animal in shock, and his facial muscles twitch with fleeting, tortured expressions.

Shivers arc across his shoulders and down his arms, and then, with a single, deep gasp, he releases his hold on the body as his own begins to seize. Worried he'll injure himself on the sharp rocks, I hold him against me as he thrashes, caught in the vicarious throes of someone else's death.

Hating every second, I ride it out with him, hoping the sound of my voice will help draw him back to me. It seems to go on forever, though I know barely three minutes have passed since he first touched the body.

Finally, with an awful, choking gargle, he goes still.

Too still.

My initial relief converts to fear as I see that, just like he did after reading the rune in Stephanie's shop, Julian has stopped breathing. Similarly, after a round of shouting and shaking does nothing to rouse him and his lips turn an unhealthy grayish blue, I panic.

Lifting him in my arms, I dash from behind the screen and across the rough stones toward the staging area, where a fight has broken out among the fire crew over who is responsible for the failed parking brake.

The parking lot is packed with first responders, but they're not the ones I'm calling for. I don't like or trust him, but it's Halloran I'm after.

Several paramedics sprint to my aid, nonetheless, helping me lay Julian on the ground and asking what happened. I can't tell them he just experienced someone's death and seems to be in some kind of psychic shock, so I'm forced to say I don't know. As they check him over, searching for signs of injury and—more importantly—of life, Halloran arrives.

With a few quick words, he takes the paramedics' place. Surprisingly, they yield without protest, and wander off as if nothing happened—the effect of some Fae charm, no doubt.

Halloran checks Julian over quickly, then stands up again.

"Let's find a more private spot, shall we?" he says, and walks off towards the trees.

Adrenaline spiking, I shout at his back. "Hey! Hey, where the fuck do you—"

He turns and glares at me, pressing a finger to his lips, and I find myself struck dumb.

"Your mate isn't dead, and he's not in immediate danger," he hisses. "So, calm down. Meanwhile, I can't figure out what's wrong with him while maintaining this." He gestures at his face, and I take it he means his glamour. "Now stop wasting time and come on!"

He turns and marches away again. With no other choice, I scoop Julian into my arms and follow him.

He leads me to a picnic table partially shielded by a screen of shrubs, waits as I lay Julian on it, and immediately sets to work.

"What happened?" He feels Julian's brow and the sides of his throat, unbuttons his outer shirt and leans to press his ear against his chest.

"He collapsed after reading the body," I say, literally biting my nails.

"This isn't usual?"

"Shouldn't you know?" I hear the fear edging towards aggression in my tone and tamp my emotions down hard.

Halloran answers calmly. "No. As I told Julian himself, his gift is quite rare. I've no idea what's 'normal' and what's not."

"This isn't normal," I snap. "He's not fucking breathing."

"He's breathing," Halloran says evenly, "just very slowly. It seems he's fallen into a state of... extreme systemic depression; hibernation is a close synonym. Self-protective, most likely."

"Speak English."

Halloran twists to look up at me, and I barely contain my surprise. His glamour is gone, and I see him as he is really is—stunningly handsome and, as Julian put it, almost unnervingly perfect.

"That was English," he says, the first trace of annoyance creeping into his tone. "Now, clearly, I can't maintain this—" he gestures at his face, "—while dealing with this." He points at Julian. "Do something useful and block the view, will you?"

Glowering, I obey; while Halloran has done nothing to make me like him any better, his air of control and lack of alarm calms my fears.

"Has this happened before?" he asks, leaning over Julian again.

"He always has a rough time reading bodies, but the passing out is new."

Quickly, I tell him about the incident with the rune in Stephanie's shop.

"It sounds as if it's not the rune itself that triggered it," he says, "but the intensity of the reading, rather. He probably just needs to rest while he processes things, but I don't know enough to say this condition isn't dangerous. Here—I'll try to rouse him but be ready in case he's confused or disoriented. It's probably best if you're the first person he sees."

He gestures for me to stand close, then leans over and speaks a stream of words in the soft, musical language of the Fae.

Julian stirs, and relief quenches my fear as his eyelids flicker and open, and he draws a deep, full breath as if just awakening from a restful sleep.

Halloran steps back a pace as he comes around, and I look for recognition in his eyes.

"Hey, Jules. Talk to me."

"Dane? What the..."

He blinks and winces, and I help him sit up as he holds his head and groans.

"You passed out again, that's what," I say, sitting beside him and rubbing his back between his shoulder blades. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

"That good, huh?"

He groans again and leans into me, burying his face against my shoulder. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah. We can go home as soon as I'm sure you're okay."

"M'okay," he mumbles.

"I'll be the judge of that," Halloran says and presses a hand to the side of Julian's throat.

Julian startles at his touch and shoots him a dark look before leaning into me again.

"What d'you want?"

Ignoring the question, Halloran consults his watch as he measures Julian's pulse. "Your heart rate's back to normal. That's an improvement. What do you remember?"

Julian shakes his head and sighs. "She drowned."

"In the lake?"

He lifts his head just enough to give me a look.

"Right. Obviously, in the lake. And, uh, is it really Stephanie?"

A shiver runs through him, and he nods, answering in a whisper. "Yeah. She thought she'd found the way out. She thought she'd escaped. But it was too deep, and..."

Another shiver shakes him, and his whole body vibrates.

"What do you mean she'd 'found a way out?'" I ask. "Where was she escaping from?"

Julian lifts his head a little, and a haunted look shadows his eyes.

"The Shadowlands," he says. "That's where he'd taken her. She found a way out, but she thought it would take her back through the cavern beneath the shops. Instead, it came out..."

"Somewhere near the bottom of the reservoir," Halloran finishes, and I share Julian's next shiver of horror.