"I'm going to put aside my parents' appeal for today and clear a few others," I said. "First up, Monty Miller. I'm stalled at--"
My phone chirped with a text. When I made no movement to answer, Gabriel fished the phone from my pocket and checked. The possibility that might be considered rude never occurs to him.
"Ricky," he said as he passed it over.
Ricky Gallagher is my ex. I don't call him that, though. An ex is someone you've left behind, usually with the associated nastiness and pain of a breakup. I won't pretend there wasn't pain in ours. No nastiness, though. Ricky had decided we should step back, for very good and very selfless reasons, and I'd had to agree. Which doesn't mean it was easy. Or that I don't light up, seeing his name on my cell-phone screen, before I remember that things have changed. The fact we texted about twenty times a day meant there were a lot of those little stabs of grief. But that constant contact also meant we were navigating the transition from lovers to friends better than I had dared hope.
He'd texted: I thought hurricane season was over.
I chuckled and replied: No hurricanes here.
Him: Rub it in.
Me: Florida's a bit windy, I take it?
He was in Miami doing work for his father. I had no idea exactly what kind of work. That's for the best, considering I work for his family lawyer...and Ricky's family business is running a biker gang.
We texted for a few minutes. Gabriel read over my shoulder, presuming if it was private, I'd have moved away. After a few back-and-forths, Ricky said: Got a favor to ask. You busy?
When I hesitated, Gabriel leaned over and typed: No.
Ricky: It's Lloe. Ioan says she isn't eating.
Lloe was short for Lloergan, Ricky's hound. A fae hound. "Cwn Annwn" literally translates to "Hounds of the Otherworld." Lloergan was a badly damaged cwn Ricky had rescued. She lived with his grandfather, Ioan, who was the leader of the local Cwn Annwn. Yes, Ricky was descended from the Wild Hunt. He wasn't just any human descendant, either. He was the living embodiment of Arawn, legendary lord of the Otherworld. Which meant Lloergan was absolutely devoted to him. But, being a biker and part-time MBA student, there was no place in his life for a dog right now, so she stayed with Ioan, and Ricky took her when he could.
It had been three days since Ricky left for Miami, and we'd hoped Lloergan would be fine. Obviously not.
Ricky texted: Can u stop by? Take her 4 a run? That might help. Or if u could dog-sit...
Of course, I had no problem looking after Lloe. Given the circumstances with this Seanna impostor, though...
Gabriel took my phone. He typed: That's fine. Then he erased and rephrased it in Olivia-speak: Sure, no problem.
"Otherwise, you'll worry about her," Gabriel said as he sent the message. "And with this woman coming around, I'm not averse to the idea of you having a supernatural guard dog right now."
Thx! Ricky texted back. I owe u.
I signed off with Ricky, and I was putting away my phone when TC slunk past, heading for his spot in the front window.
"Hey, cat," I said. "We're bringing home a friend for you. A doggie big enough to devour you in a single gulp. Is that okay?"
He turned a baleful stare on me, as if he understood. I'm convinced TC isn't just a cat, no more than Lloergan is just a dog. Maybe someday, when I'm moments from perishing at the hands of an intruder, TC will save me in a sudden and awe-inspiring display of supernatural power. Or maybe he'll decide I haven't given him enough tuna that week and leave me to my fate. He's a cat, so I figure my chances are about fifty-fifty.
When footsteps sounded on the porch, TC hissed. I glanced out the window, saw Ida, and groaned. TC hissed again.
"Excellent instincts," I said to the cat. "Now can you make her disappear?"
He tore off up the stairs.
"That's not what I meant!" I called after him.
Like the other Cainsville elders, Ida is fae. As for why she was on my doorstep...Well, it begins with Welsh lore. The story of Mallt-y-Nos. Matilda of the Night. Matilda of the Hunt.
According to the myth, on the eve of her marriage to a fae prince, Matilda begged her betrothed to let her ride with the Cwn Annwn one last time. He said that if she did, the world of the fae would close to her forever. She still couldn't resist and ran to her old friend, leader of the Cwn Annwn, and there she was trapped, forced to lead the Wild Hunt for eternity.
The truth was a little more complex. That story starts with two boys and a girl. A Tylwyth Teg prince: Gwynn ap Nudd. A Cwn Annwn prince: Arawn. And Matilda, a dynes hysbys girl, half fae and half Hunt. The three grew up as best friends, and the boys agreed that to preserve their friendship--and peace between their people--they would never court Matilda. Of course, they forgot to tell her that. She fell for Gwynn, who promptly abandoned his promise. When Arawn found out, he was furious and the two young men made another pact: if Matilda went to Arawn the night before her wedding, she was his.
Again they didn't inform Matilda because, you know, she might have told them they were idiots. The big night came. When Matilda ran off for one last Hunt with Arawn, the world of the Tylwyth Teg closed in a ring of fire.