Fae MisFortunes Read online




  T.K. Eldridge

  Fae MisFortunes

  Sid & Sin #2

  First published by Graffridge Publishing 2020

  Copyright © 2020 by T.K. Eldridge

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  T.K. Eldridge asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  T.K. Eldridge has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  Cover by Lizzie Dunlap of pixiecovers.com

  Editing by Donna A. Martz of martzproofing.com

  First edition

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  To my family, blood, chosen, and global.

  Love is more powerful than loss, stronger than hate, and more beautiful than a thousand sunsets.

  “In every conceivable manner, the family is a link to our past, bridge to our future.”

  - Alex Haley

  Chapter One

  Belle Cove, 1883

  Lissa hid behind the woven sacks stuffed full of herbs. Her cloak hood was pulled up over her hair and wrapped around her body, the dark wool helping her to blend into the shadows. She could hear the men searching the outbuildings and the storage barns, but this was her home. She knew how to hide well. Papa was out in the fields and Ma had sent her to hide before she had run to get Papa.

  The strangers were growing angry. She could hear their voices and the crack of a crate tossed to the ground. The overwhelming scent of crushed sage filled the room from the broken crate that had been packed with bottles of infusion oils.

  Lissa buried her head in her arms and hugged her knees tight. She hoped and prayed that Ma could find Papa and come back soon.

  It wasn’t soon enough.

  A hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her to her feet.

  “Found the girl,” the man called out.

  Lissa screamed and struggled, but her long skirts tangled around her legs and her soft leather shoes did no damage to the man as he wound an arm around her waist and carried her like a small animal.

  “Papa! Mama! Help!” Lissa screamed and the man who carried her didn’t hesitate in his strides. He joined two other men near a wagon. One pulled down the back and Lissa saw three others tied up and lying in the back of it. They were all children, two older and one younger than she. She knew them from the town. All but one of the older ones cried, but there were gags in their mouths.

  The man grabbed her from under his arm and thumped her butt down on the end of the wagon. One of the other men handed him some rope and he pulled both of her wrists into one hand and started to tie them together. Fear choked her throat and Lissa whimpered as her whole body shivered.

  She could smell the tobacco, body odor, and grease soaked into the man’s clothes. The smell, combined with the fear, made her vomit all over his front. He jumped back and pulled a rag out of his pocket, wiping at his front. “Disgusting little animal,” he snarled and lifted his hand to strike her. Lissa cringed, but it was the man in front of her who looked surprised as he dropped to his knees, then fell forward, an arrow sunk in the back of his throat.

  Behind him, Lissa saw her parents, her father with a sword and her mother with a bow and quiver. One of the other two men had run into the woods. The remaining man knelt on the ground, fingers clutching his bloody arm.

  Lissa’s mother slung the bow over her shoulder and ran toward the wagon. She wrapped Lissa up in a hug and kissed her head, then stilled as she saw the other children.

  “All will be well, children. You’re safe now,” Maggie Fortin said as she untied her daughter’s wrists. “Marcel, bind that man. They were stealing the children.”

  Lissa’s father took some rope from the wagon and bound the kidnapper, then jerked him to his feet and pushed him toward the wagon. Maggie had pulled the other children out of the wagon and unbound them, then led them all to the house.

  Marcel hog-tied the man in the back of his own wagon, then led the wagon into the barn and settled the horse in an empty stall. “You stay put,” he said to the captive. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Before he left, he whispered a spell that would put the man to sleep and ward him in case someone tried to release him. Then he warded the barn. Only after it was all secured, did he join his wife at the house.

  Inside, Maggie had settled the children at the table with meat, cheese, and bread. They had drank two pitchers of water already and were finally sated enough to eat. The eldest, John, was about twelve, with the youngest, Thomas, a couple of years younger than Lissa. The boys talked quietly while the other girl, Patience, flinched at any sudden movement or sound.

  Maggie took Marcel aside. “They were all taken this morning from their farms around Belle Cove. Patience is frightened the most. I think she’s been exceedingly sheltered. Perhaps you can get some information out of the man in the barn before you take him to the constable? I think it’s best we leave the children here and have the constable contact the parents to come pick them up. Dragging them around town in the wagon they were captured in, with one of their attackers in the back, will not do them any good.”

  “I’ll take John with me and he can share his story to back up what I say,” Marcel said. “Keep the children inside and your bow close to hand. The one that ran into the woods may come back.”

  Maggie nodded and then put together a basket with flasks of tea, ale, and water, as well as more bread, cheese, and meat. Marcel went out to see what the bound man would say, then called for John to come bring the basket so they could go.

  Maggie cast a small spell to ease the children’s fear and remove some of their memories so they would not live with the terror of the day forever. Now, she had to watch and wait.

  Belle Cove, Present Day

  Sin

  We sat in the conference room of the Supernatural Police Department building in Belle Cove, a little town on the east coast of the United States. Belle Cove was special in that most of the residents were members of the supernatural community. The SPD was created by both of my great-grandfathers after the Species War to help deal with supernatural crimes.

  My twin sister, Sid, sat beside me. On my other side, my aunt, Cosette “Sett” Fortin, and next to her, Liam Walsh, mine and Sid’s great-grandfather. We were also joined by Ian Tieman, Tasha Campbell and remotely by her brother, Tino Morales. We were the Special Ops team. Sett was our handler and Liam Walsh, the Commander, ran the SPD and the Belle Cove Academy where the SPD officers were trained. To call us special was kind of pushing it a bit. The case we were about to discuss was our first case. Until today, half of us were not even officially part of the SPD. It took killing the last Director
and a hard reset on the management of the SPD for this team to happen.

  “Five children have been taken. Two in Sorsyville, three in Belle Cove, over the last few days. Amber alerts have gone out, but there has been no sign of any of them,” Sett said.

  “We’ve been asked to help as all of the children are supernaturals,” the Commander said.

  “What kinds of supernaturals?” Ian asked. “Not that it matters for our involvement, of course, but if they’re all shifters or all witches, then we have a better idea of what kind of unsub we’re looking for.”

  Tino piped up from the video feed, “What’s an unsub?”

  “Unknown Subject,” Sett said. “It’s what we call the perpetrator, or perpetrators, of a crime. It sounds more professional and less slang than calling them a ‘perp’.”

  “I thought that’s what he meant, but I have learned not to assume,” Tino said.

  “Anyway, back to the question. What kind of supers are these kids?” Sid asked.

  Sett looked at the Commander and he nodded. “They’re all Fae, and all have been living as known witches.”

  “So, someone knew they were lying,” I said. “Is this punishment for lying? Is Margot somehow involved in this?”

  Margot Sullivan was a Fae that Sid and I had captured. She was half Siren, half Lamia and all of her was, or so we were told, imprisoned in Galliol, the supernatural jail.

  “No, Margot isn’t part of this. She has had no communication with the outside world and she’s still locked up,” the Commander said.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions too soon,” Sett said. “Margot Sullivan could still have been involved before she was taken down. When was the first child taken?”

  “It was reported three days ago. Samantha Landis didn’t come down for breakfast before school. Her mother went up to her room at seven in the morning and Samantha’s bed was made but her school uniform lay on the chair and her backpack hung on the back of the chair. According to her mother, all that is missing from Samantha’s room is one pair of jeans, a t-shirt, sweatshirt, socks, undergarments, and a pair of bright pink Converse sneakers. Her pajamas were found in the laundry hamper,” Tino said.

  “Well, that means either she knew the person or had plans to sneak out and got grabbed while out,” Ian said.

  “How old is this child?” Tasha asked.

  “Thirteen. She turns fourteen in about six weeks,” Sett said.

  Sid looked like she was deep in thought.

  “What’s on your mind, Sid?”

  “Well, we only got Margot locked up about five days ago. If Samantha disappeared just two days after Margot was removed from the picture, someone else could still have been acting on her orders. We all know Margot didn’t get her own hands dirty,” Sid said.

  “Good point,” the Commander said. “I’ll get her questioned again regarding the disappearances.”

  “You know, I still believe there was someone pulling Margot’s strings when she got involved with James Boudreau,” I said. “Whomever that person is, they may be the one that is moving this abduction ring along.”

  “Abduction ring? That implies multiple unsubs, and I’m not sure if we’re looking at multiples or an individual. Let’s not say there’s more until we know one way or the other for sure,” Sett said. “It’s important not to lock ourselves into a certain way of thinking until we have facts to guide us that way.”

  That made sense, so I nodded. “Kind of like when the media named Gary Ridgway the “Green River Killer” and the cops didn’t look away from the river until later to find the other bodies he’d dumped.”

  “Exactly. That’s a textbook case on why we don’t give serials catchy names,” Sett said.

  “Okay, so what’s next? Are the Sorsyville PD giving up the case to us or are we liaisons?” Sid said.

  “Liaisons for now. Kids need all hands on deck. We’re leads on the case though,” the Commander said. “Sid, Sin, you two head to Sorsyville with Tasha. Talk to the parents, examine the scenes. Sett? You and Ian do the same here in Belle Cove. Tino? I need you to go over every scrap of data in the case files and town reports and see what you can find,” the Commander said. “Everyone, dismissed.”

  We all rose, gathered up our notebooks and files, and headed out on our assignments.

  The Commander called out to me as I was the last one to go. “Sin, one moment.”

  I stopped and turned back to face my great-grandfather and smiled. “Yes, sir?”

  “Tasha has good experience interviewing victims. I know you and Sid have trained in this, but let Tasha take the lead. Watch the nuances of body language and how she reacts to them. She’s an excellent interviewer and you’ll both learn a lot.”

  “Understood, sir. I’ll let Sid know.” I almost saluted but he didn’t want that kind of formality from us, so I nodded respectfully and left the room.

  * * *

  We loaded up in one of the SUVs. I was driving and Tasha was in the front with Sid in the back. In Sid’s lap lay a binder with scanned pages from the ancient grimoire our mother had recently passed down to us. Sid, specifically. It was passed from mother to daughter, or granddaughter, over centuries. While the grimoire was spelled to be resilient and resist aging, neither Sid nor I were comfortable with carrying the actual book around. Yet, we needed to learn everything we could from it, so the scanned pages and binder were our compromise. It didn’t stop me from wondering why Sid was buried in the pages right now, though.

  “Uh, sis? Why the deep dive right now?” I asked.

  “I read something recently that I think might be relevant. I just have to remember where or when.”

  “Okay, well, perhaps we should be asking Tasha what we need to do to back her up with these interviews?”

  “You do that, I’ll listen,” Sid said and I grumbled. I kept getting the feeling that Sid didn’t want to be in the SPD but she insisted she had joined up for her own reasons as well as our joint reasons. Didn’t make me any more convinced. Actions speak louder than words, and I didn’t like what I had been seeing.

  Tasha took out her notebook. “We’re going to speak to Mira Langlois, mother of four year old Ethan, and then we’re to meet with David and Karen Simmons, parents of ten year old Daren.”

  “Did you know Sorsyville’s name comes from a name given to the place in the early 1700’s? Sorcière villa, or town of the witches,” Sid said. Guess she wasn’t going to just listen after all.

  “I thought Belle Cove was where the witches came to hide,” I said.

  “They did, in the late 1600’s, but this is a bit after that. Those who came to Belle Cove were not just witches, but also shifters. Many of the French trappers that settled the area first were loup garou, or French shifters who escaped France and Europe to come find some peace and prosperity in the new lands. But in the early days of Sorsyville, they only allowed witches to settle there,” Sid said.

  “How long did that go on for?” Tasha asked.

  “Until the early 1800’s when industry started to spread out and the quarry on the line of Sorsyville and Belle Cove meant that the company that owned the quarry would bring in people from outside and house them in the company buildings. That opened up both towns to non-supers for the first time,” Sid said.

  “That must’ve pissed off a few people,” Tasha said.

  “They tried to restrict who could stay, but without being able to specify why they wanted to restrict, there was no way to do it,” Sid said.

  “I’m kind of surprised Sorsyville wasn’t absorbed into Belle Cove over the years. It’s a tiny little spot on the map. What’s it got, maybe five thousand residents?” I said.

  “It almost was, until the Species War. Then it became a safe haven for witches while Belle Cove was predominantly shifters. That’s why Quarry Road is still pretty much a no-man’s land. It divides the two towns from the cliffs to the quarry and there are a few shops and warehouses, but not one residence on either side of that stretch,” Tasha sa
id.

  I pulled the car to a stop in front of the tidy cottage where Mira Langlois lived with her missing son. One story, clearly well cared for. Fresh paint, trim yard, some potted flowers and a couple of comfortable chairs on the porch showed the pride taken in the home. A curtain fluttered at a window, then the front door opened and I froze with my hand on the car door.

  “Sin, let’s go,” Sid said as she and Tasha headed up the walkway towards the porch.

  I shut the car door and only when Mira had turned did I follow Sid and Tasha up the walk. You ever read those stories where the hero sees a woman across a crowded room and knows she’s ‘the one’? Yeah, I always thought it was cheesy and stupid too. Until now. Hair the color of milk chocolate, skin a light tan, and eyes the color of a turquoise sea, with a grace to her movements that spoke of otherworldly origins. I shook my head to clear it and stepped into the house as Sid and Tasha introduced us. I felt the ward as I passed over the threshold and looked at Sid to see if she’d noticed it too. A faint nod from her said she did.

  “Nicely warded,” Sid said to Mira.

  Mira froze in the middle of taking a pot of coffee off the maker. “Wards?” Her hands trembled as she put the pot on the counter.

  Tasha frowned as she looked from me to Sid. “I didn’t feel any wards.”

  “Ah, I get it,” I said, and turned to look at Mira. “Are you full Fae or partial? Forgive me for asking, I realize it is completely rude, but it helps us to know how much and what type.”

  Mira let out a breath, then turned to gather mugs. “I am full Fae.” The mugs clattered onto the counter and she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I never thought I’d say that out loud. Not on this side of the veil anyway.”

  “It won’t leave our team, I swear to you,” Sid said.

  “How is this going to help you get Ethan? How does knowing if I’m Fae or not, or that I’m a Sidhe of the court of light, help?” Mira asked.