Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Roc Books by Jacqueline Carey
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Forty-five
- Forty-six
- Forty-seven
- Forty-eight
I thought about that, and about the warning I’d given Tuggle the hobgoblin, and the myriad other instances where members of the eldritch community had violated mundane laws. Sure, there were reports in the X-Files, but that wasn’t exactly what I needed. “You know what I should do?” I said, thinking aloud. “I should create a central database with information on the entire eldritch population of Pemkowet, or at least as much as I can gather.” Lurine sipped her Bellini without comment and I began to second-guess myself. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“No.” She took off her sunglasses. “I do, actually. It’s just a measure of how quickly the world is changing, and how much it has changed in the past century.” She smiled again, but it was a wistful smile. “I’ve been the subject of myths, legends, and poems. I’ve never been an entry in a database.”
“I didn’t mean you!” I said quickly.
Lurine cocked her head at me, and I fell silent. Of course it would have to contain an entry on Lurine, and Cody, too, and all the rest of his clan, including his two rambunctious nephews. Stefan and all his ghouls. And Mrs. Browne from the bakery, and Gus the ogre, and any other members of the eldritch community I considered friends. Me, too, for that matter.
“Maybe it’s a bad idea,” I said.
“No,” Lurine said quietly. “It’s not. It’s an idea of its time, that’s all. It would help you do the job Hel appointed you to. And that’s important, Daisy. All of this . . .” She made a gesture that somehow included not only the mansion and the surrounding trees, the satyr skimming the pool, and Lake Michigan in the distance, but all of Pemkowet. “It’s a lot more fragile than it looks.”
“I know,” I murmured. Things had gotten ugly with the Vanderhei case earlier this summer, reminding me just how delicate a balance existed between the eldritch and the mundane, and how the latter far, far outnumbered the former.
“So!” Lurine tilted her champagne glass and drained the remainder of her Bellini. “Problem solved. No more unplanned rutting satyr orgies. Henceforth, they will be anticipated, and appropriate safety precautions will be taken to protect the mundanes.” A mischievous sparkle returned to her blue eyes. “Now I’m going for a swim, and you’re going to tell me what’s really bothering you.”
I made a noncommittal noise. Ignoring me, Lurine rose and stripped off her bikini before diving into the pool.