Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions (Wicked Lovely 5.50)

“Just relax and sit still—this’ll only take a few minutes.”

“What are we doing here? I should never have let you come with me!” she barked through clenched teeth.

“Now you’re learning. . . .” I reached for the door handle, but her hand closed around my arm.

“What is this place—really?”

I considered not answering, but Emma was stubborn enough that if she thought she was alone and didn’t understand the danger, she might actually get out of the car, just to spite me.

“There are a few places where the barrier between our world and the Netherworld is very thin. Thin enough to be an easy pass-through for some things that normally can’t cross over on their own.” She started to interrupt, but I cut her off. “And before you ask, I don’t know why. That’s just the way it is.”

“Niederwald is one of those places?” Emma crossed her arms over her chest, and I could actually see the goose bumps forming. “So, hellions can . . . ?”

“No,” I said. “Hellions can’t cross over, barrier or no barrier. But a lot of other things can.” I nodded toward the small group now forming in front of the store. “They’re here to keep us on this side, and everyone else on the other side.”

“Like border patrol,” Em said.

“Yeah. I guess.” I twisted the small silver hoop in the cartilage of my right ear. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay in the car. And in case you’re tempted to do something stupid, take a look.” I nodded over her shoulder at the locals.

Tall, thin, and angular, they’d probably pass as human at a glance. Or at a distance. But up close, they were disproportionate enough to terrify someone like Emma, whose knowledge of the supernatural world included only the censored bits her bean sidhe best friend deemed psychologically safe.

The eyes watching us were too small and round. A woman sitting on the hood of her car—Nea—tapped fingers that were too long and pointy. Almost like claws. Her shoulders were too broad and her neck too thin. Humanity was a thin disguise on her, and one she wouldn’t mind shedding, should the need arise.

“What are they?” Emma whispered, and I had to respect the curiosity that ran almost as thick in her voice as the appetizing tremor of her fear. Some humans freak out when they realize they’re not alone in the world, but so far, she’d shown some pretty decent backbone.

“Harpies,” I said, but her blank look spoke volumes and added to my frustration. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you like Kaylee does, so pay attention. Niederwald is the largest harpy settlement in the western hemisphere. They’ve been guarding this thin spot in the barrier for a couple hundred years, and for the most part, people leave them alone, ’cause they’re creepy as hell even if you don’t know they’re not human.”

“No shit.” Emma frowned, openly staring at them now. “What do they . . . do—harpies?” she asked, sneaking another peek at them.

“Not as much as you’d think. They can cross into the Netherworld at will and they have an unfortunate affinity for raw foods.” And I wasn’t talking almonds and broccoli. “Other than that, they like to snatch things.”

Her pale brows rose in what may have been amusement. Or skepticism. “Like, kleptomania?”

“Kinda. Only they don’t hit stores. See how they’re all wearing jackets, even though it’s seventy-five degrees?” I didn’t bother trying to watch them subtly. Our stares were both open and mutual. “That’s to hide their wings.”

She studied the backs of the two girls facing away from us, but with the bulky cut of their jackets, she wouldn’t find any noticeable lumps. “Actual wings? Like, angel or butterfly?”

“Like harpy,” I snapped. “Think giant bats.”

“What do they snatch?”

“Whatever catches their interest,” I said, pushing back the urge to take just a taste of her fear. “Jewelry, coins, clothes, dolls, pewter Lord of the Rings figurines.” Dismembered body parts . . . “But they don’t mess with humans.” Usually. “That would draw too much attention. You should stay in the car, just in case, though.”

“I’m not staying here alone!”

“I’ll be back, and you’ll be fine. Just stay put and try not to freak out on me, okay?”

“No promises,” she whispered, as I got out of the car. When I closed the door, she leaned over the driver’s seat and slapped the lock, then sat with her purse in her lap while I rounded the front of her car toward the flock of harpies watching my approach.

“Sabine Campbell,” Nea said, stepping to the front of the group.

“Yeah. My name hasn’t changed.”

“Neither has anything else. . . .” Nea’s brother, Troy, eyed me up and down, like he’d just invented the whole visual invasion thing. Troy hadn’t changed either.

“Including my standards.” I flipped him off with both hands, then turned back to Nea. “I’m here to see Syrie. I need to ask her something.”

“You still looking for that guy? That bean sidhe?” Troy said, but his grin was more malicious than amused. “Don’t give up easy, do you?”