The Orange Cat and Other Cainsville Tales (Cainsville 3.5)

Nothing.

He kept going, and as he moved, he monitored his senses the way he would monitor his bike's performance as he rode. Yep, another of his shitty metaphors. But the gist of it was there. He checked sight and sound, like he'd test the wind direction and road surface, making sure nothing surprised him. But he also kept his attention on his extrasensory perception, as he would on his bike's motor, trying to sense anything not quite right.

He detected nothing, though. Now that Liv had vanished, the shadows no longer gave him that sense of urgent dread, like they had been connected to her and her alone. In fact, as he drew closer to the wall, the shadows retreated, and it felt not so much as if they scurried out of his way but rather parted in respect. As they did, he noticed something pale amongst them, and he remembered Liv looking over here before he insisted they leave.

Maybe, if they were separated, she'd return to see what she'd spotted. He veered. As the shadows retreated, he could see pale stripes against black. He reached out and found himself not touching a stripe, but a strip, hard and cool to the touch. His fingers wrapped around--

Bone. It was a rib cage propped against the wall, shadows weaving through it, enshrouding it.

Shroud.

Yes!

Shroud. Dead. Death. That's the connection his brain had been trying to make.

He heard Liv's voice again, talking about what Arawn was afraid of, losing Matilda to the shadows.

Not losing her to the fire. Losing her to death.

Liv had been saying something about holes and Glooscap's Cave.

Fairy holes. The passage to the underworld, to the afterlife.

He peered down the seemingly endless passage to that shrouded glow at the end. Where Liv had seen a fae castle.

The bells. She said they sounded like something else, and he heard it now. Not bells but music. Music and laughter. He recalled stories of fairy circles, luring the unwary with music and laughter. Except not actively luring them. That's the last thing real fae would want. Inadvertently enticing humans with the sounds of the fae world. Sounds and sights, music and castles.

A shadow slipped past, and again he caught a whisper.

The whispers of shadows. The whispers of . . .

His gaze moved to the skeleton.

Whispers of death.

Whispers of the dead.

He saw again the shadows wrapping around Liv's leg, and he jerked around with, "Liv!"

Something moved in the shadows, jumping as if startled. Something pale and alive. Ricky lunged and grabbed, and he felt his fingers wrap around flesh. When he yanked, he caught a glimpse of something not quite human. The size of a small woman, with pale hair and humanoid features, but claws and sharp teeth, snapping as he yanked its leg. When his grip only tightened, the figure flickered, glamour falling into place, and he had his finger wrapped around the leg of a woman about Liv's age, with flowing blond hair and wide, frightened green eyes. Liv's eyes, and he knew that was no coincidence.

"Yeah, no," he said. "The scared kitten look isn't going to work. Nor is taking on my girlfriend's eyes. Now where is she?"

"I-I don't know--"

"Cut the bullshit. I just saw you. The real you. The fact that I'm not running, screaming, should suggest I know what you are, so don't pull the innocent act. I came here with someone. I want her back. Now."

The fae eased around, not trying to slip from his grasp, but moving closer, brushing her small breasts against him.

"Yeah, also no. You've seen my girlfriend. Another naked girl is not going to tempt me."

She arched her back, and her breasts grew, and Ricky let out a laugh. "Uh, no. That wasn't what I meant. At all. You can turn into a supermodel. It's not gonna tempt me. Now I'm being nice, giving you a ch

ance to tell me where Liv is before I get a little less nice."

The fae slid her fingers across his thigh, heading for a very obvious goal.

"What part of no isn't clear?" he said as he grabbed her hand.