That flash of dismay again. He saw avoiding Pamela as weakness. He cleared his throat and said, "We need to talk. I..." Another throat clearing, then he looked out the car window to see the sun was finally up and said, with some relief, "You wanted to see Ms. Madole's apartment. We'll do that now."
--
Gabriel picked the building's rear-door lock. We made sure no one was inside, and then hunted for the apartment access. I found it easily enough--a set of stairs behind what seemed like a closet door.
"This is more likely to have a security system," Gabriel said.
He picked the lock. As he pulled back, his bare wrist touched the metal, and he jumped as a red welt rose on his wrist.
"It's electrified," he said. "I don't believe I've ever encountered that."
"Mmm, maybe not." I took off my glove and touched the knob with the back of my knuckle. Then said, "Try again. Carefully."
He did, and his lips curved in an unspoken curse as he got another jolt.
"Cold-forged iron," I said. "I feel it as a weird tingling, but it affects you more since you're at least half--" I caught myself. "I mean, fae runs strongly in the Walsh side."
"I can't imagine I have more fae blood than you."
"Todd's line is Cwn Annwn. It's different," I said quickly. "The point is that cold-forged iron affects you. So once we're inside, avoid anything metal."
He slipped inside to check for alarms. After a few moments he returned and said, "It's disarmed."
"That was fast," I said, joining him.
"I mean it was already disarmed. Aunika must not have come back after that night."
I didn't like the sound of that but told myself that her pursuer hadn't wanted her harmed. After our plunge off the bridge, she probably wisely decided to hole up and stay safe, which didn't include making a trip back for her toothbrush.
Aunika's apartment looked like a generic hotel suite--basic and cheaply furnished. It was the decorations that turned it into a home, yet they weren't so much decorations as keepsakes. Homemade knickknacks. Faded greeting cards. Thank you Aunika, for making a difference.
Photos of girls covered the walls. Portraits, like the ones downstairs, plus a stack of photographs on an end table. These were the stories she wanted to remember. Memories of girls who grew up. Girls who weren't the lamiae, who had a future if they could get their lives on track.
I looked for girls in snakeskin belts. Dark-haired girls with ancient eyes. I didn't see them until I went into her bedroom, where I found a collage on the wall. They were smiling here, caught off guard and tossing Aunika a genuine smile--girlish and innocent.
I took pictures of that wall. Intrusive, yes, but putting faces to the local lamiae would help.
When I heard a beep in the front room, I went in to see Gabriel standing over an answering machine.
"Hey, Aunika," a male voice said. "Wow, you really do have an answering machine. Very old-school. But I guess you have to, if you don't carry a cell phone." A nervous laugh. "Anyway, it's Rob. From last week? I know things didn't go too well, but I'd like a, uh, second chance. I promise I won't talk about my ex. Okay? Call me back?"
The next message was from a neighbor complaining about two men who were asking after Aunika and could Aunika please tell her friends not to pester her neighbors?
"Those 'friends' were stalkers, lady," I said.
The next message was an appointment reminder. The next was a returned call from a service company. And then,
"Hey, Ani. It's Erin. I opened up today, which isn't a problem. But you aren't answering your door or your cell, so I'm getting a little freaked. Can you call me back?"
"That's the girl who works downstairs with her," I said. "And apparently Aunika does have a cell phone. She just doesn't give the number on first dates."
Another couple of non-important calls followed. Then, "Ani?" A girl's voice paused and then gave a low chuckle. "Answering machine, right? I remember those. It's Melanie. Where are you? Erin says you're taking time off, but I can't reach you on your cell, and we were supposed to meet up for coffee, and it's not like you to forget. You know how to get in touch with me. Just let us know you're okay, all right?"
The next one was the same girl. "Ani? I'm getting worried now. It's been three days. The others are freaking out. After Lucy and Rina and Steph, well, they're really freaking out. Please tell us you didn't go after this guy yourself. Get back to me. I've got a number you can use." She rattled it off and I jotted it down.
--
The number provided by the lamia--Melanie--was answered by a guy who grunted that he'd take a message. Gabriel dropped me off at the office, where the nurse met me for a checkup while he headed to meet a client. Gabriel's admin assistant--Lydia--and I were chatting when my phone blipped with an incoming text from Pamela.