Courting Trouble (Chapter 2) (Patreon)

Index
Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

The elf stepped into my apartment and shut the door behind her. I flicked on the light and beckoned her to follow.

My apartment wasn’t something to boast about. A single bedroom and bath, a dining area, front hall and kitchen alcove. I set the fiber shopping back down on the kitchen island and started to unpack groceries with methodical pace. “So what is your name?”

She fidgeted. Her fingers were inhumanly long and in the full light of the apartment I could see her proportions were...different, inhuman. Her limbs were longer, her body waifish and compact, giving her sort of gangly, malnourished look.

“Nemue,” she said, finally. 

Unlike in the hall her voice was clearer, almost melodic. It made me think of ringing bells and bird song, revealing an inner grace that was hidden by her otherwise alien appearance. Her words were marked with a strange accent, like a blend of something Scottish and Nordic.

“Okay, Nemue.” I gestured to a stool by the island and pulled out my own, sitting down. “Why did you come to me?”

She sat and I noted that her movements were efficient and subtle. She moved in such a way that it was hard to tell where specific actions started and ended, blending together seamlessly. In one motion she had began to move toward the stool, sit upon it and rest her hands in her lap.

“Somebody is killing the Dokkalfar,” she murmured, those long fingers fidgeting again.

I furrowed my brows and rested an elbow on the island. “Dokkalfar?” While I was aware of the supernatural there was clearly a lot of things I didn’t know.

Nemue seemed to cast around a bit for the words. “It means ‘dark elf’ to your folk,” she finally said, looking at her hands. “To my kin it means lower sidhe.”

I disliked being so ignorant of a situation and tried to remedy it. “So there are different kinds of elves? And what does sidhe mean?”

“Yes, many. As many as there are different kinds of human. And sidhe is what we call ourselves. ‘Elf’ is your word.” As she spoke, Nemue seemed to relax slightly, her body releasing some of the tension. I recognized the signs, similar to a cat now content that it wasn’t in immediate danger.

Nodding slowly I queried further. “So somebody is killing dark elves. Why haven’t you gone to your authorities? Why come to me?”

“Because,” she whispered, looking up from her hands and directly at me, “they want me for the murders.”

Of course. I probably should’ve seen trouble coming from the moment I let her into my apartment. Trouble seems to delight in finding me, like a black cat following me home.

I stared into those huge, dark eyes. It became uncomfortable after a few moments but we didn’t look away from one another. “Are you guilty?” I asked with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.

“No,” she answered quietly. As she said it, something flickered behind those eyes, something hard, and her posture shifted slightly. No longer a frightened animal, she took on the look of a creature ready to defend itself. The momentary shift made her infinitely nobler, though still inhuman. I couldn’t detect a lie in those eyes.

“Why would your authorities be after you?” I pressed, breaking our mutual gaze by standing up.

Nemue’s eyes followed me as I made my way to the fridge, wary but not hostile. “Several were my friends, my kin. And they found evidence in my home; clothes, the murder weapon. Planted there, but no one cared. My folk demanded retribution.”

I poured two glasses of water and set one on the island. “So you were framed? Do you know why?”

She shook her head and in another graceful movement, picked up the glass and drank it all. She set the empty glass aside and her  eyes changed again, becoming softer and less suspicious. “I need to hire you. Somebody outside the sidhe court to find evidence of my innocence.” She hesitated again, then added, “and a place to stay.”

“I can do that. My price is fifty dollars an hour, plus a thousand retainer, plus expenses. You can stay here, fifty dollars a day on top of it all.” Glancing over the woman’s shabby clothes, I felt a pang of concern. “Can you afford that?”

Insult flickered across her face but it was smoothed over in an instant. She pulled out a money clip and started peeling off bills, putting a thousand dollars in cash on the island.

I didn’t know why it surprised me she was using modern currency, but it did. Part of me was expecting gold or gems, but the rational part of my brain chided me for making assumptions. Of course bills and coin would be used. Trying to pay people in solid gold would attract attention.

Officially, Nemue was now my guest and client. I took her money, pocketed it and smiled at her. “Are you hungry?”